Gillian shook, the cold, wet rain already soaking into her clothing. “I’m so sorry about this.”
“Not your fault. If I’d’ve made sure the gate was closed all the way… If anything I owe you an apology.
“You’re gonna have to hold this again.” Quint handed her the rope and she took it with little hesitation. He shucked off his work gloves then removed his heavy denim shirt. “Squeeze in.” He held the shirt over their heads. “You’re gonna have to get in closer if you wanna stay outta the rain.”
Gillian hesitated for moment. Another lightning strike zigzagged overhead and she edged her head up under his chin, got as close as humanly possible without actually touching him—which, despite his overwhelming need to touch her, was for the best.
Quint made the mistake of glancing down. Gillian’s transparent shirt rose and fell with every breath. Dark, tight peaks poked at the thin fabric.
“You need to stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Breathing.”
Gillian started to laugh, but as a shudder ran through Quint she sobered quickly. “I thought you didn’t like me much. You’re always teasing.”
“Darlin’, I like you just fine. Too much, in fact.”
Their eyes met as lightning slashed through the sky.
“Oh, hell.” Quint ducked his head and captured Gillian’s mouth. Rain soaked the pair as he lowered his arms around her to pull her tight up against him, his shirt falling to the ground.
She settled one hand on his bare chest; the other gripped the rope harder, digging it into her palm. Quint’s heart beat steadily. The sandy hairs tickled her fingers.
His hands tightened around her, trapping her hand between them. Even as the water pelted her face and neck, she could think of little else but the kiss. Being stuck out in the middle of freaking nowhere with the sexy-as-hell guy made all her anxiety flee. All replaced by heat and a passion she didn’t know she was capable of feeling.
Quint’s hand slid up her back and into her hair. He slanted her head and delved his tongue in, deepening the kiss when she sighed.
He tasted of coffee and something sweet.
A sharp tingle ran up Gillian’s spine. She wanted so badly to lean back and look into his eyes, but was too afraid to break the kiss. Afraid she might not ever feel this heat again. Because once she stopped there would not be a repeat.
Quint’s lips left her mouth far too soon. She wasn’t expecting him to then lave her earlobe. Nibble on her neck. A shudder ran through her and she fought to free her hands. Once she could, she slid them around Quint’s back—all the while hanging onto the rope. Her nipples rubbed against her cotton top. Sensations, too many to count, flooded her system, threatened to weaken her knees, but his powerful arms kept her upright and pressed to him as if life depended on it.
A tear came loose and ran down her cheek. Gillian wasn’t sure if it was from the tender way Quint ran his hand over her hip—something she had yet to ever feel before— or the knowledge that she was pretty damn sure she’d never find a man who’d make her feel this way again, even if she looked for the rest of her damn life. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. The thrill and the pain comingled in her heart, made it ready to burst. Thank God for the rain hiding her confusion.
Lightning slashed through the air, hit not too far off from where they stood. The pair pulled apart.
Quint wiped a hand through his hair and pushed the wet locks off his face. “Jesus H. Christ. I have heard of bells, but not explosions.”
Gillian tried to smile, but was still a little too overwhelmed to do much more than run her fingers over her swollen lips.
“We can’t stay out here. We’re better off hoofing it back to the ranch. Do you think you can?”
She nodded.
“Are you okay?” Quint cupped her face, ran his thumb down her wet check.
Again she nodded, not willing to risk her voice, couldn’t take the chance it might quaver and Quint would know for sure what he did to her.
“Okay. It may be a little tricky up ahead. The rain will have washed away part of the culvert.” He snagged his wet shirt off the ground and slid his arms into it then took hold of the rope. He held out his other hand to her. “Do not let go, okay?”
“Okay.”
Quint gave her a quick, but sensuous kiss before he dragged her behind him.
“You still doing okay?” he yelled over the roar of the rain. He had to give her credit. She kept pace with him and didn’t complain once.
“Yes.”
They only had one obstacle to tackle before they were home free. They needed to get to the end of the culvert soon or they’d be stuck out here for a while. If they could reach it before any more of the trail washed away they’d be fine. He wouldn’t tell her he was scared shitless about actually reaching it in time.
He probably should have waited for someone to come looking for them, but with the storm worsening, they wouldn’t be able to get the trucks out this far. And no way would Jacob risk taking the horses out during this downpour.
They made it around the worst part, but still had to follow the edge of the culvert for a bit before they could reach the trail to the ranch. “Not far now.”
“You said that already.” A wan smile tilted up the corners of her mouth. “Now I know how Heidi…” Her hand slipped from his.
Quint turned expecting to find her at his feet, tripped by the rocky terrain, but she was gone. Just vanished.
“What the… Gillian?”
With the foal pulling tight against the rope, he took a step forward. The rocks underfoot gave way. It was all he could do to keep from going over the edge himself. Once steadied, he dropped down on all fours. The stiff woven fibers bit into his palm as he leaned forward and looked over the edge of the lip of dirt. “Gillian?”
She moaned. He was about to slide down after her when he saw a pale hand waving at him.
“Here. I’m here.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No, just had the bejesus scared outta me.”
“You and me both. Can you climb back up here?” Quint saw a flash of clothing in the darkness.
She cursed. “Yeah, no. I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Too short.” She waved up at him, her fingertips barely cresting the edge. “I don’t think I can pull myself up.”
“Are you shitting me?”
Her laughter rose over the roar of the rain. “I would not shit you.”
“I’m coming down.”
“Wait.” Gillian yelled up at him.
“What for?”
“I hear something.”
Quint laughed. “How can you hear anything over this rain?” He stilled and tried to catch whatever it was that made her pause. Finally, a low rumble echoed through the culvert. “Gillian, give me your hand. Now.” Fear skittered up his spine. “Hurry.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Water’s coming.” Quint flattened to the ground and stretched his hand out to her. “Reach.”
Water dripped into his eyes as the edge of the culvert gave way in little increments. Gillian stretched her hand toward Quint.
He snagged her wrist with one hand and twisted the rope around the other hand so as not to lose hold of the colt. He snagged Gillian’s other wrist with the rope wrapped around his hand. The rumble grew louder. With his elbows, he shifted to a crouching position. He’d more than likely leave deep bruises on her pale skin, but the alternative… He couldn’t even think about it. “I’m sorry.”
“For?”
Quint yanked her as hard as he could and dragged her up over the edge of the culvert. The momentum sent him onto his back and plopped Gillian down on top of him, her right arm wedged between them.
She released a low, guttural moan before her eyes slid closed and her head went limp onto his chest.
“God, Gillian.” He set his head back to hold them both as still as possi
ble. Water pelted his face. He’d imagined himself wrapped her in his arms, but not like this. “Hey? Can you hear me?”
She didn’t answer. He rolled her off of him and examined her wrist—it puffed up pretty quickly. He slipped his shirt back off and wrapped up her wrist. As he finished tying it, Gillian stirred.
“You know, if you wanted me to carry you, you could have just asked rather than fainting on me.”
“Very funny, cowboy.” Gillian tried to crook the corner of her mouth up in a smile.
Quint helped her sit. “Can you stand?”
“In a second. My head’s still spinning.” She pushed the wet hair off her face. “I’ve heard people can pass out from pain, but I always thought it as hokey. Who knew?”
“Anyone who’s ever busted themselves up by not staying put.” Quint helped her to her feet. “You doing okay?”
“I think so.” The world still spun slightly and she wobbled a bit but she wasn’t about to let on how incredibly her wrist throbbed. Knowing him, he actually would scoop her up and carry her back the rest of the way. “Thanks for not saying I told you so or anything.”
They walked in silence the last stretch of the way. When they got within eye sight of the corral Jacob headed toward them. “What happened?”
Quint handed him the rope still tethered to the horse’s neck. “I left the gate open and had to hunt him down.” He motioned toward the foal.
Jacob narrowed his eyes at his wife’s nephew but didn’t say anything. His gazed turned to Gillian. “You?”
“I followed to help. And fell.” She held her wrapped arm aloft. Her teeth chattered but she bit down hard so neither man could see.
Quint detailed to Jacob what had happened—all but the kiss. He conveniently left that part out.
Waves of dizziness washed over her. “I think I need to sit down.” She started to sit right out there on the wet ground, but two strong arms went around her and scooped her up.
“We need to get you up to Dr Hambert’s.” Quint shifted his hold.
He wasn’t even breathing hard when he settled her into the front seat of the truck even though he’d trekked from the corral to the side of the house where the truck was parked, all the while carrying her. This after schlepping however far they’d gone with the horse.
Gillian leaned her head back against the seat and fought to keep the shivers at bay. “Thanks.”
Quint didn’t look at her. “Nothing to thank me for. You should be spitting mad you got tangled up in this.”
The rocking motion of the truck and her waning adrenaline lulled her.
In her world, before she and Heidi had taken off, it was every man for himself. Someone falls and your biggest challenge is how quickly can you step over them and get the hell away. But Quint had done everything he could to keep her safe. It wasn’t his fault the earth had eroded and she’d fallen. If anything he should be spitting mad she’d mucked up everything he’d had to deal with.
Her eyelids slid shut. The pain in her wrist had subsided—or maybe just numbed. “Thanks for not leaving me.”
Chapter Five
“I hope you’re not right-handed.”
“No, left.” It took a moment for Gillian’s brain to connect. “It’s broken?” Her stomach lurched much like it had when she’d fallen.
“Yes, ma’am.” Dr. Hambert made a note in a file and turned off the X-ray lightbox as his nurse dug in a cabinet. “We’ll get that set in no time. Luckily, no surgery is needed.”
You have no idea how lucky.
“We have red, white, green or hot pink.” The nurse held up a package of cast wrap. A sweet smile crooked the corner of her mouth. “What color would you like for your cast?”
Gillian blew out a heavy breath. “Why not hot pink? Make it fun.”
“Super.” Her smile grew. “I need to go grab a couple more rolls. I’ll be right back.”
“Is she always that cheerful?”
“’Fraid so.” The doctor nodded. “Best thirty-eight years of my life.”
Great, she’d just insulted the doctor’s wife. First the fire, then getting stuck out in a storm with Quint. One more complication and she might just cry—which was why she hesitated to ask the most obvious question. Though, in her line of work, she pretty much knew the answer, but she still had to ask. “How long will I have to wear the cast?”
“Six to eight weeks.”
She groaned and dropped her chin to her chest. Tears filled the corners of her eyes.
“Okey-dokey.” Mrs. Hambert returned with two extra packets of hot pink cast wrap. “This won’t hurt a bit, I swear.”
Gillian looked up and the woman’s smile faltered. “Aw now, hon. It’s not as bad as all that.” She rubbed Gillian’s knee. “You’ll feel better in no time.”
If only that were true. Gillian sucked in a huge sob and pasted on a watery smile for the older woman.
Half an hour later, Gillian had a set cast, a sample of pain killers and a promise to check in with a doctor as soon as she and Heidi got settled in Billings.
She doubted she’d still have the job as a masseuse once she made the call to her potential boss. Waiting a couple of days for a car repair was one thing, waiting a couple of months—which would hit right as the season started—was surely out of the question.
Mrs. Hambert helped Gillian to the waiting room.
“Mom. Ohmygawd. It’s broken?”
“Um, uh, yeah.” She held her casted arm aloft then groaned as a throbbing pain radiated up her arm.
Mrs. Hambert snagged her elbow and brought it down to her side. “Enough of that. You need to keep it still.” The woman fashioned a sling around Gillian’s shoulder and helped her settle the cast snug inside.
“Thank you. How much do I owe you?” She rooted around in her bag. Between the medical bill and the work done on her car, she’d be lucky if they had enough money to last out the week.
“Don’t worry about that right now, hon.” Mrs. Hambert snagged Gillian’s bag and handed it to Heidi. “You just get back to your room and rest up a bit. Call on me in the morning and let me know how you’re doing.”
“Really? Are you sure?” Small towns were a different breed all together.
“Um, Mom.” Heidi shifted from one foot to the other. “Since your arm is all messed up…”
Here it came. Heidi was going to ask about how she’d be able to work, how she’d be able to support them, feed them. Fear trickled down her spine. “Yes?”
“Mr. Manny delivered the car while you were in with the doctor. Can I drive back to the motel?” Heidi held her clasped hands in front of her. She poked out her lip as she had back when she was three and asked for another cookie. “Pretty please?”
Driving. Leave it to a teen to see the Small Picture. Gillian tried to smack her forehead and nearly pulverized her face with the cast. If it weren’t for the sling, she might have made contact. When she settled her arm at her waist, she nearly tipped herself over. “Room’s spinning a bit.”
Mrs. Hambert patted her shoulder and wrapped her arm around her waist. “Pain killer’s kicking in.” She gave Heidi a long look. “You do know how to drive, don’t you?”
The teen beamed. “Yes, ma’am. Mom taught me all spring and I got my license last month.”
Gillian wasn’t sure if the meds were making her ears tingle or if Mrs. Hambert clucked her tongue. She leaned in to Gillian. “There’s not much traffic this time of the day. But just say the word and I’ll find someone to get y’all home.”
Not much traffic? Gillian snorted which turned into a giggle. There weren’t more than three cars going down the main street at any given time—and that was during lunch. “I think Heidi’ll do fine.”
A foggy blanket engulfed Gillian’s thoughts. She had to concentrate to form a coherent sentence. “I think we can make it. Thanks though.”
“Okey-dokey. Make sure you call me tomorrow.”
“Abso-toodly-lutely.” Gillian tried to salute, but again
the cast and sling slowed her.
Heidi giggled a little too loud when she jingled the keys. “Let’s go, Mom.”
“We’re home in one piece. We’re home in one piece.” Chalking the harrowing ride the few blocks from the doctor’s office back to the motel up to the meds, Gillian repeated her new mantra even an hour after they’d gotten back to their room.
“What’d you say?” Heidi plopped down on the bed.
“Nothing.” The pair watched TV for a while. Gillian dozed off in the middle of one of her favorite movies. She woke with gritty eyes and an awful taste in her mouth. The remnants of the smoke still lingered in the room, permeating everything. “Strange, that fire, huh?”
Heidi set down the magazine in her hands. “I think Quint wanted to blame me.”
“That’s just crazy. He doesn’t know you well enough to know how wrong he is.” Gillian thought back to the awful day when she’d nearly lost her entire world. Her sister had been killed, the house set ablaze with Heidi still inside. It was a miracle the four-year-old had survived, physically unscathed. Mentally, it took years of therapy before she could be in the vicinity of a fire without quaking in fear. There was no way in hell she’d go near open flames, much less deliberately set fire to something.
Gillian was so sure Heidi had nothing to do with the fire it hadn’t even crossed her mind to question the teen. Unfortunately, telling Quint the hows and whys would lead to more questions and she didn’t know when or if she’d be ready to share that information with anyone.
“No worries.” Gillian, one armed, pushed herself up to a sitting position. “Will you mute the TV, please? I need to call Mrs. Taylor.”
Heidi shut off the set and turned to her mother, but didn’t say a word.
“So, when can we expect you?” the woman asked after Gillian identified herself.
“I have a little problem.”
“Is the car still not fixed?”
“The car is fine.” Gillian took a deep breath. “I, uh…” Just spit it out, she chastised herself. “I had an accident and broke my wrist this morning. The doctor said it’ll be six to eight weeks to heal.”
Wrong Turn, Right Cowboy: Paintbrush, Book 2 Page 5