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The Christmas Room

Page 18

by Catherine Anderson


  “Good.” He touched the brim of his hat and turned to leave. “If Miguel and I find a few bunches of cows, we’ll have to make several hauls back here and won’t call it a day until after dark. We’ve got a section of fence in the east pasture to fix first. Getting a late start.”

  Kirstin knew it would be a long and trying day for the two men. Pushing cattle out of gulches and thick copses was a slow process for only two people. She wished she could go along and help, but someone had to remain behind to care for the animals already at the ranch.

  “Be safe,” she called.

  The delicious smell of frying bacon drifted from the range vent to tantalize her. She hurried inside to join Cam in the kitchen for breakfast, wishing she could kiss the daylights out of him, because he’d been so right about her father. Sam was accepting Cam’s presence, not only in her life, but also on the ranch.

  She burst into the kitchen and grinned at him. “You are so lucky that you have a split lip. Otherwise I’d drag you to the bedroom and make love to you all day.”

  “Other parts of me are in fine working order.” He quirked a golden eyebrow at her. “What’s the occasion?”

  “Dad is behaving himself!”

  • • •

  After a quick meal, Kirstin and Cam saddled up two horses. Kirstin chose to ride her gelding, Moses. She selected Major, another excellent cattle horse, for Cam. It was a perfect morning for a ride, and she wished that she and Cam could spend the whole day playing. Sunlight warmed her shoulders. The rippling sound of the river drifted to her on the air like a symphony played by woodland fairies. Unfortunately, as was the case most of the time, she had work to do.

  As they approached the cow pasture, Cam asked how she wanted to handle Satan.

  “I’m more familiar with the shenanigans that he pulls, so I’ll have Moses cut him from the herd. You can stand ready to help if Satan gets nasty. Otherwise, be prepared to open the gate for me to run him out, and then follow me, closing the gate behind us.” She pointed to another pasture about a quarter of a mile away. “That’s the bull pasture.”

  “Boy, that fence looks stout,” Cam remarked.

  “It has to be. Otherwise he’ll break out and get back in with the cows.”

  At the gate, Cam remained in the saddle and leaned down to disengage the latch. As he drew the panel open, Kirstin rode her horse into the enclosure. Cam followed, pulling the barrier closed behind him.

  As Kirstin walked Moses into the clutch of cattle, Cam knew he was watching a master. She moved fluidly with the horse, her slender body relaxed, legs lightly hugging the animal’s barrel. He’d done enough cutting to know that going in slowly was critical. The cattle lowed, but none of them got spooked. Satan seemed to know Kirstin was coming in specifically for him, however. He swung his head from side to side and pawed the ground; then he began to dart one way and then another. Kirstin kept Moses pointed at the bull, which required the gelding to go down on its haunches and swing his front legs back and forth to remain hooked on.

  Suddenly Satan panicked, lunged right, and made an incredibly quick U-turn. Kirstin, caught off guard, now had her mount broadside to the bull. Moses was fast, but as he tried to execute a lightning-quick shift, he wasn’t quite fast enough. Full force and head down, the bull plowed into him. Moses, normally solid on his feet, took the blow at his center of balance. He screamed, craning his neck as he plunged to the ground.

  Cam saw Kirstin struggling to get up, but her left leg appeared to be pinned under the saddle. The bull wheeled to charge again, and Cam thought, No! Dear God, no!

  • • •

  Kirstin saw Satan coming at her. Moses had struggled for an instant to get up and then stopped. Though she pushed against the saddle with all her strength, she couldn’t pull her leg free. With a flash of icy terror, she knew that her foot was tangled in the stirrup. Everything went into slow motion. The bull lowered its head, pawed the earth, and dug in with his rear hooves to lunge. She could have sworn her whole life passed before her eyes. This was it. She would be trampled to death.

  But then, seemingly from out of nowhere, Cam rode in, pushing his mount between Kirstin and the bull, deliberately letting Major take the full impact of the charge broadside. Crazy, so crazy, she thought. But it was all Cam could do to protect her.

  Major was knocked off his feet, but Cam was ready for that and leaped off the horse instead of going down with it. While Satan circled to regroup for another onslaught, Cam grabbed Kirstin by the shoulders and tried to pull her out from under the horse. Panicked cows, bunched up in a corner of the enclosure, were bawling, the noise deafening. Cam’s mount, still regaining its feet, protected her and Cam, but only for a moment. As soon as the horse got up, it galloped away to get out of the line of fire.

  “My boot’s twisted in the stirrup!” Kirstin cried. And then she yelled, “Watch out, Cam! He’s coming at you from behind!”

  Cam whirled, waved his arms, and roared like a bear to get the bull’s attention. When Satan focused on him, he ran. Kirstin knew he was trying to draw the dangerous animal away from her. But at what cost? That bull might kill him.

  • • •

  Sam had left Miguel to work on the fence while he returned to the ranch to get a fence stretcher they’d forgotten to take. As he rode into the ranch proper, he’d seen everything that happened in the pasture from start to finish. The young man he’d called worthless had deliberately put himself in danger to save Kirstin, and now the bull, hot on his heels as he tried to escape, rammed McLendon so hard in the back that he was thrown at least twenty feet.

  “Goddamn it!” Sam yelled.

  He dug his heels into his sorrel’s flanks. Barron exploded into a run toward the pasture. Over the gelding’s head, Sam saw Cam roll to his feet, turn to face the bull, and take another head butt to his upper abdomen that threw him backward so hard against the fence that two boards snapped under his weight.

  Sam felt as if he were riding against a headwind. He jumped his gelding over the pasture rails and headed into the fray, swinging a coiled rope at the bull while yelling at the top of his lungs. Once he got the beast away from Cam and his daughter, he raced toward the gate, threw the latch, and pushed the panel wide open.

  “Ha! Ha!” he shouted as he circled Barron behind Satan.

  Slapping the bull’s ass with the rope, he drove the bovine from the enclosure. When he got the gate closed again, he raced back toward Cam, knowing he had to be badly hurt. McLendon had regained his feet and was now holding his ribs as Sam closed the distance between them. Blood trickled from the corners of the younger man’s mouth. His blue eyes were unfocused and looked blank.

  Sam leaped off his horse. “How bad are you hurt, son?”

  Cam crashed to his knees. By the time Sam reached him, he lay prostrate on the grass and was out cold. Sam jerked his cell phone from his belt and called for an ambulance before doing anything else. When he knew help was on the way, he knelt over his daughter’s lover. This is bad, really bad, Sam thought. He was afraid to move Cam. He might do more harm than good. Sam suspected that McLendon had fractured ribs and a punctured lung, at the very least. A spinal injury couldn’t be ruled out, either. Sam had built that rail fence to stand sturdy for years against bovine abuse, and Cam had hit those thick planks with such force that they had snapped like toothpicks.

  “Is he all right?” Kirstin called.

  Sam could barely hear her over the bawling of the cows. “He’s out cold, but he’s still got a pulse and he’s breathing,” he hollered back. “An ambulance is on the way.”

  Sam could do nothing for McLendon without rolling him over, and his gut told him that would be a mistake. Instead he went to help Kirstin get out from under her horse. Moses had stopped trying to get up, but he didn’t appear to be injured. Sam’s throat went tight when he realized the horse knew Kirstin’s foot was tangled in the stirrup and th
at she might be injured or dragged if he stood up.

  Sam crouched facing the horse’s belly, where his daughter’s trapped leg was visible. “Well, your boot went through the stirrup, honey,” he told her. “Does your ankle feel broken?”

  “No,” Kirstin said. “It got twisted, and it hurts to have so much weight on my leg, but I don’t think anything’s broken.”

  Sam gently straightened her foot, and with some careful maneuvering, he worked her boot back through the stirrup to free her leg. He patted Moses’s shoulder. “You’re a damned fine horse, Mose.”

  He circled the gelding to grab Kirstin under the arms. As Moses rolled to get his hooves under him, Kirstin cried out. Sam tensed to pull her clear the moment the horse got up. The instant she was free, Kirstin scrambled to her feet and hopped on her uninjured leg to reach Cam. She dropped to her knees beside him.

  “Oh, God. Oh, God,” she cried.

  Sam went to crouch beside her. Just then he heard a siren. “There’s the ambulance, honey. You stay with Cam, but don’t touch him. Okay? I’ve got to get Satan in the bull pasture so he doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

  “What about all the cows?” Kirstin cried.

  “They’re bunched in the corner. I doubt they’ll move from there unless they’re pushed.”

  Sam mounted his gelding, left the enclosure, and found the bull in the barn, munching on alfalfa hay. Satan offered no resistance as Sam herded him from the building and got him relocated. “Stupid beast,” Sam said as he fastened the gate. “I should’ve shot you the first time you caused trouble.”

  Just then he heard the ambulance pulling in. He nudged his sorrel into a trot so he could guide the paramedics to where Cam lay. Upon seeing Sam, the driver slowed down to follow the horse. Seconds later, three paramedics spilled from the vehicle. Sam dismounted and tied Barron to a fence rail. Kirstin still knelt over Cam. Even at a distance, Sam could tell that she was sobbing. He went to get her out of the way so the attendants had access to their patient.

  As Sam drew Kirstin back, he noticed that she still couldn’t put weight on her injured leg. A female EMT hurried over. Sam gently lowered his daughter to the ground so the woman could examine her.

  “He distracted the bull to save me!” Kirstin cried over and over.

  In Sam’s mind an answering refrain rang loudly. I know. I know. I know. He had seen the whole thing, and he knew how bravely McLendon had acted to save Kirstin’s life.

  When the EMT tried to ask questions about the injury to Kirstin’s leg, the only answer she got was “It’s my fault, all my fault. He put himself in danger to save me!”

  Sam finally intervened and explained what happened. “Unless you feel that she needs to be transported by ambulance, I can take her in.”

  The woman nodded. “That would be great.” She gestured toward her teammates, who had strapped Cam onto a spinal board and were carefully moving him onto a stretcher. “They’ll be busy in the back.” To Kirstin, she said, “You can follow us in. I know you’re very worried.”

  Sam saw Miguel ride into the ranch proper. His horse sidestepped, unnerved by all the commotion. Sam left Kirstin to meet the ranch manager at the fence. He quickly explained what had happened, asked Miguel to unsaddle Barron and tend to the other horses, and then returned to his daughter. The female EMT was giving Kirstin an injection. She finished and glanced up.

  “A little something to calm her down and lessen her discomfort,” she said.

  Sam crouched by his daughter, scooped her into his arms, and carried her to his truck.

  Chapter Nine

  By the time Sam got Kirstin to the Missoula hospital, fondly called St. Pat’s by the locals, he felt fairly certain her leg wasn’t fractured. The injection given to her by the EMT had calmed her nerves, and although she still kept saying that Cam had put his own life at risk to save hers, she no longer trembled and wept. Sam parked under the wide portico and helped her into the ER. Apparently the ambulance attendants had called ahead that another patient was coming, because two nurses met them with a wheelchair and swept Kirstin away before Sam could even say he was her father.

  He went to admissions to fill out all the paperwork. Afterward, he wanted to check on his daughter, but instead he drove clear back home, kicking himself every mile of the way because he didn’t have Madeline McLendon’s cell phone number. You idiot, he berated himself. He should have been a better neighbor from the start, giving Madeline his number and asking for hers, just in case of an emergency. But, oh, no, he’d been a world-class asshole instead.

  As Sam drove onto the McLendon land, he saw two cement trucks on-site and realized the builder was finally pouring the construction footings. After parking his truck behind Maddie’s gray SUV, he tried to think how in the hell he should handle this. Worst-case scenario, she might think he had put her son in the hospital and try to tear his eyes out. He opened the gate to her yard. Three black-tri Australian shepherds awakened from their naps behind a table and charged out at him with their hackles up. Sam crouched down to meet them.

  “Go ahead. Rip my throat out. Save your mistress the trouble.”

  He gave the oldest dog a couple of extra pats. They’d met the night Sam had driven in to check out the glowing toilet, which was still a light feature in the neighborhood.

  Sighing, Sam stood and climbed the steps to knock on the trailer door. He heard movement inside, but it took Maddie a second to open up. She wore jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt the same shade of blue as her eyes. Her reddish brown hair glinted bronze in the morning sunlight. Her face, bare of makeup, looked a little pale.

  “To what do I owe this honor?” she asked. And then she apparently noted Sam’s grim expression. The slight color in her cheeks drained away. “What happened? What have you done to my son?”

  Sam winced, but he couldn’t blame her for thinking the worst. “I didn’t do it, but your boy is hurt. I’ll give you the details on the way to the hospital. The ambulance took him to St. Pat’s. I needed to come back and tell you, so I couldn’t hang around long enough to get any details about his condition.”

  • • •

  A curious numbness had overtaken Maddie’s body. If they had transported Cam by ambulance, she knew he must have been badly hurt. She wanted to ask a dozen questions, but her desire to reach her son as soon as possible forestalled her from voicing them.

  “I need my purse.”

  She left the door standing open. Sam stepped inside as she rifled through her bedroom closet. “A light jacket, too,” he suggested. “If you get home after dark, it’ll be chilly.”

  Maddie tugged a heavy corduroy shirt from a hanger. In the evening, she wore it around camp. Then she grabbed her purse. When she returned to the kitchen, she felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the trailer. Little bright flashes dotted her vision. A big, firm hand grasped her arm.

  “Don’t faint on me,” Sam said.

  “Don’t be absurd. I don’t faint.” But for the first time in her life, she felt as if she might. “How badly is he hurt?”

  Sam’s deep voice curled around her. “St. Pat’s has fabulous trauma care, and Cam is a strong young man. I’m betting that he’ll be fine.”

  Maddie noted that he hadn’t answered her question, which meant that Sam didn’t know the extent of Cam’s injuries—or that he believed they were severe and didn’t want to upset her by saying so. She blinked and drew in a bracing breath. Then she fished in her bag for her car keys.

  “I don’t think it’d be smart for you to drive yourself. You’re upset. You’re also new to the area, and traffic in Missoula can be heavy.” He released his hold on her arm. “I’ll be happy to take you. And, please, don’t be stubborn about it. Cam will need you. I don’t want to tell him you were involved in a car accident trying to reach him.”

  The last person on earth from whom Maddie wanted to accept a favor was Sa
m Conacher. But her hands were shaking and her knees felt wobbly. “I suppose you’re right,” she conceded.

  He glanced at her office area. “Do you want to turn off the lights and shut your computer down?”

  Maddie cared about nothing but her son. “No. Just leave it.”

  She stepped out onto the porch. Sam followed her out. She didn’t bother to lock the door. There was nothing in the trailer she cared about.

  She felt as if she were moving through a fog. Dimly she registered that Sam checked to be sure the three dogs had food and water before he enclosed them in the yard. Then, holding her arm, he escorted her to his pickup, helped her onto the passenger seat, and slammed the door. When he climbed in on the driver’s side, Maddie was still struggling with the seat belt hasp. The mechanism refused to cooperate with her numb fingers.

  “Here.” Sam pushed her hands away and buckled her up. Then he did the same for himself before he started the diesel engine. “Just so you know,” he said over the rumble, “I’ll be driving fast. My daughter’s hurt, too, and I didn’t stay long enough to find out if her leg’s broken.”

  “Oh, dear God.” Maddie glanced over at him. “What happened?”

  Sam shifted into reverse and backed out; then he floored the accelerator, peeling out on the pasture grass to reach the private drive. Once he turned onto Fox Hollow Road, he began telling her the story.

  “That bull is huge and one mean son of a bitch. I don’t know what Kirstin was thinking when she tried to move him without me being there.”

  Maddie had a picture in her mind of Cam being thrown by the animal with such force that his flying body broke sturdy fence railings. She couldn’t think beyond that.

  “Anyway, I’m damned grateful that Cam was with her. He saved her life. There’s no question in my mind about that.”

  Maddie finally found her voice. “How badly do you think Cam is hurt?”

  Sam took a moment to reply. “I’m no doctor, but my guess is that he’s got broken ribs, a punctured lung, and possibly a spinal injury.” He glanced over at her. “I’m sorry for not prettying it up, but you strike me as a woman who wants it straight.”

 

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