She lay still, not having the energy to attempt bravery. Her whole body throbbed. “Jared…”
“I’m here, Taryn.” Careful of the serious cuts on her wrists, he unwound the straps, grimacing at the sight of her torn flesh. “You’ll be all right.” He hoped his voice didn’t betray his alarm. Her face and arms held deep cuts, and blood spattered her gown promising injuries beneath. Dirt covered her from head to foot. All he could detect were the superficial wounds. He couldn’t be sure she hadn’t broken any bones or had other internal injuries.
The stable boy and Brad Thompson reached them.
“Get to the house and inform them what happened.” Ignoring Thompson, Jared instructed the stable boy. “Tell them to get a doctor here as fast as they can.”
The stable boy mounted Jared’s horse, racing toward the main house.
“I’m going to see to it those horses are shot!”
Jared glared at Thompson. “There’s nothing wrong with the team of horses. If anyone should be shot, it should be you for your stupid arrogance.”
Brad flushed livid red. “Who are you to speak to me in such a manner? I’ll see to it you are discharged.”
“Before or after you explain how you caused this accident?” Jared ground out, silencing Thompson.
Taryn’s father returned in a buckboard with the stable boy.
“Taryn!” Dennis Ashford dropped to his knees by her side. “How did this happen?”
Brad spoke up. “Those beasts went wild. It’s a wonder we weren’t both killed.”
Jared clenched his teeth together. Thompson was an idiot!
Dennis ran his hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. “We should get her to the house. Jonathan’s gone for the doctor. Gwen and Maddie are still in town.” Dennis lifted her in his arms. She cried out at the movement. Dennis blanched at the sound of his daughter’s pained moan, his balance thrown with the knowledge she was in agony.
Jared stepped forward, taking her from her father’s arms, and headed to the buckboard.
Brad strode forward. “Take your hands from her! If anyone’s going to carry her, it will be me.”
Holding her lightly in his arms, Jared turned to Thompson, his gaze spewing shards of steel. “You touch her and they’ll be calling the undertaker for you.”
Brad dropped his arms to his side, making no attempt to take her from King.
Dennis stood still in a moment’s confusion. He glanced from Jared King to Brad. Collecting himself, Dennis went to the buckboard climbing into the driver’s position, anxious to get her to the house. “Get in, Brad.”
In seething fury, Brad took a place beside Dennis, while Jared sat in the back with Taryn.
When they arrived home, Gwen and Maddie were alighting from their carriage. Dennis explained what happened.
“I’ll get some salve.” Gwen went inside without delay.
“Is Taryn going to be all right?” Madeline grabbed Dennis’ arm. “Has the doctor been sent for?”
Dennis put an arm around his wife’s shoulders as they followed Jared up the stairs. “Jonathan should be back with the doctor soon.”
“How did this happen?”
Despite the fear in her voice, Jared found himself impressed with Madeline’s ability to remain calm with the state of her daughter’s present condition.
Taryn’s father didn’t evade the hard truth. “She was dragged by a team of horses.”
Thompson caught up to the group ascending the steps. “There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t even believe it was happening.”
“Which room is Taryn’s?” Jared longed to kick Thompson back down the stairs. The man’s insipid words of justification grated on Jared’s nerves. Even now, the dolt made every effort to retain his standing with her parents.
Madeline sidled around him and led the way toward the end of the hall.
Entering the room, he walked to the large four-poster mahogany bed, waiting while Madeline Ashford smoothed back the white comforter. As he laid her down on the bed, he realized she had lost consciousness. With a shaking hand, he felt for her pulse to assure himself she was still alive. It was faint, but detectable. He stood back, powerless to do anything but remain frozen in place. The battered picture she presented made his heart lurch in apprehension. Where was Jonathan with the doctor? His thoughts were wild, regardless that logic dared to tell him Jonathan could not have made it to the doctor’s residence and returned so soon.
Gwen came into the room stepping around Brad, who stood in the doorway. She went to the bed, setting the tray down with a pitcher of water and assorted ointments on the nightstand. “You men leave Maddie and I to attend to her now until Dr. Hennessey arrives.”
Reluctant, Dennis turned from the foot of the bed, walked to the door, and followed Brad downstairs. Jared hesitated.
Gwen noted the worry etched across Jared’s face. “You may return once we’ve cleaned off the dirt and changed her clothing.”
He backed away to the door, joining the others in the small drawing room to await the doctor’s arrival.
Twenty minutes later, Jonathan rushed into the house with Doctor Samuel Hennessey at his heels.
Dennis collided with Jonathan in the foyer when he dashed out of the drawing room at the sound of their arrival. “Gwen and Maddie are upstairs with Taryn.” He turned to the doctor. “It’s the third door on your right.”
“She’s unconscious,” Dennis said to Jonathan as they returned to the drawing room.
Jonathan patted Dennis on the back in reassurance. “Sam’s a good doctor. He’ll see she gets well.” Entering the drawing room, the men waited in unmasked concern.
After a long silence, Dennis spoke his thoughts aloud. “How could this have happened?” He searched Brad’s face. “What caused the team to drag her?”
Brad walked up to his future father-in-law. “I was connecting the rigging to the carriage, and the horses went wild.”
Jared pushed away from the mantel. “Excuse me.” If he remained in the room, he’d go over to Thompson to rip his lying tongue out of his mouth.
Jared headed for the upper floor. Reaching Taryn’s bedroom door, he tapped on it.
Gwen answered the knock opening the door wide. “The doctor’s finished examining her.”
Madeline Ashford stood clasping her hands together waiting for the doctor’s diagnosis. Overwrought by her daughter’s condition, she didn’t even question why Jared stood in the room instead of Brad.
Doctor Samuel Hennessey faced the three. “I don’t think I need to tell you she’s suffered a severe beating from the accident. The worst is she has a concussion and a broken rib. With the exception of a few deep cuts on her body, the rest of the scrapes you see appear worse than they are. On a whole, I’d say she was enormously fortunate. Over the next few days, she’ll be in a deal of pain. I’ve given her something to take the edge off the pain, but a mild dose. With the concussion, I don’t want to risk the possibility of her slipping into too deep a sleep. For the next full day, it’s important she’s monitored. I want her awakened every two hours.”
Gwen grasped the bedpost. “Why?”
“Some concussions can cause a person to slip into a sleep from which they can’t be awakened. By waking her every few hours, it will prevent her from succumbing.”
Madeline dropped into a chair at the side of the bed. Her voice shook when she spoke. “What if we can’t wake her?”
Samuel patted her hand. “I didn’t mean to cause undue alarm by what I’ve said. When someone has a concussion, it is a precautionary measure. Any time there is injury to the head, it is always best to take special safeguards.”
Madeline sighed, eased by his words.
Throughout the remainder of the day, each of them took turns by Taryn’s bedside, waking her as required, sighing in relief when she opened glazed and unknowing eyes for a fraction of a second before closing them again. Jared had refused to leave her side.
It was near supper. Jonathan sat wit
h Jared by Taryn’s bedside. It was time to wake her. Jonathan leaned over her. “Taryn, honey, wake up.” No response. “Taryn, come on now, wake up.” Nothing.
“Taryn?” Jared bolted to his feet from the chair. He traded places with Jonathan leaning over her. “Taryn, wake up!” Still no response. Terror crawled up his spine. Had she gone into the deep sleep the doctor had spoken of where she would not awaken? His voice hard, he tried again. “Taryn, open your eyes. Look at me now!”
Her eyes fluttered open. She started closing them again.
“No, Taryn. Keep your eyes open. Look at me.”
“Tired…”
He sat on the edge of the bed, brushing a wisp of hair back from her face. “I know you are, sweetheart, but I need you to stay awake for a minute.” He wanted to make sure she was completely awake before he allowed her to drift back to sleep. She struggled to keep her eyes open. She wasn’t aware of what was happening. Satisfied, he caressed her cheek. “You can go back to sleep now.” She was asleep a moment later.
Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck to relieve the tension of the past few minutes. “This is awful.”
Jared nodded in emphatic agreement, dropping into the chair.
Jonathan stood. “Supper should be ready. Come down and join us.”
“I’m not hungry. I’d like to stay here if you don’t mind.”
Jonathan pressed his hand to Jared’s shoulder in empathy. “Of course.”
She woke on the fifth morning following her accident still aching with every movement, but the pain was bearable instead of the piercing sharpness ripping through her for the past days. The bedroom door opened. She saw her father enter.
Dennis Ashford walked in carrying a tray, a bright smile of relief on his face when he noticed she was awake. He set the tray down on the nightstand, kissing her cheek. “It’s good to see you back with us. How are you feeling this morning?”
A glimmer of a smile formed on her face. “I’m all right.”
Dennis sat on the edge of the bed, holding her hand. “Now tell me how you truly feel.”
Her smile widened though it caused her to wince from the bruise on her cheek. Her fingers reached up to tentatively touch the sensitive area. “I’ve felt better.”
Dennis sighed feeling the weight of the past few days of anxiety lifting somewhat. “You’ve been in and out of consciousness all week.” He helped her to a sitting position, fluffing the pillows behind her for support. “The doctor says you were very lucky. Once the cuts and bruises heal, you’ll be fine. There is no permanent injury. I hate to think of what might have been if it hadn’t been for Jared’s quick thinking.”
“Then I didn’t dream Jared stopped the team of horses.” She leaned back against the pillows.
“Taryn, what’s between you and Jared King?” Dennis studied his daughter’s face, waiting to assess her reaction.
A shrug accompanied her hesitant response. “Nothing.”
Dennis was not convinced. “The man wouldn’t leave your side from the moment the accident occurred. He’d be here now if Luke hadn’t forced him from the room to get some sleep late last night. It doesn’t sound like nothing to me.”
She couldn’t meet her father’s gaze. She wasn’t sure what she felt. Jared’s tender concern confused her even more. “I don’t know what’s between us.”
A tap at the door prevented Dennis from pursuing the conversation. Her attention shifted past his shoulder to the doorway. Dennis excused himself, nodding to Jared as he exited the room.
Jared’s smile caused her to forget the discomfort she felt from the accident. He sat on the bed, taking her hands in his. “Taryn, I…” A strangled lump in his throat prevented him from saying more. The sight of her sitting up, alert for the first time in days overwhelmed him.
She placed her hands on his shoulders, expressing her feelings with an embrace.
Careful not to hurt her, he held her close. He never wanted to know a day in his life without her in it. She had become a necessity to his peace of mind, to his very existence. He pulled back, brushing his thumb against her lower lip, his face still close. “Have you eaten something yet?”
“I’m not hungry.”
He reached for the tray, placing it between them. “You’ve already lost weight,” he said, noting the pronounced contours.
“If I’ve lost weight, then so have you.” She touched the palm of her hand to his cheek. “When was the last time you ate?”
He shrugged. Nothing had mattered except her well-being since the moment of her accident. Food had not been a priority.
She glanced down at the tray, a hand brushing aside the glisten of tears on her cheeks. “My father put enough food on this tray for the whole family. Will you share it with me?”
He nodded with a grin. He picked up a slice of buttered toast, handed it to her, then took a slice for himself. Taking a bite, he found himself ravenous. “Does this remind you of anything?”
She smiled in recollection. “The train. If Etta interrupted us, the memory would be complete.”
Brad Thompson entered the room. He cleared his throat in reproach.
“And someone else not interrupting us,” Jared whispered, popping the last bit of toast into his mouth. “I should get back to work.”
“Yes, you should,” Brad insisted. “You…
Jared passed Brad on his way out, a piercing glare daring Thompson to say another word.
Brad remained silent until King left the room. He walked over to the bed. “My darling, I’ve been desperate over your fate.” He sat in the same spot Jared had vacated. “I know I’ve aged ten years over the last few days.”
Taryn reacted with an obligatory smile. Brad had on fresh attire, the picture of health and vigor. “It would seem I’ve caused everyone to worry.”
“I should never have insisted on a carriage ride.”
“It was an accident, Brad.” She touched his arm.
Brad took her hand in his. “Next time, we’ll go horseback riding as you wanted.” Brad removed the tray from her lap. “Why don’t I set up a chair for you out in the garden? You can sit in the sun for a little while. I’ll even let you beat me at a chess game.”
“I always beat you at chess.”
“Yes, but in light of your condition,” Brad continued, “I’ll see to it your victory occurs sooner.”
Taryn laughed, wincing at the strain it caused her injured rib. “Maybe we’ll even play two games?”
“Maybe I’ll win the second game,” Brad challenged.
“Maybe.” This side of Brad she liked. When he allowed the relaxed part of his personality to come out, he was so much more endearing.
Chapter Twelve
Sunday dawned with the promise of relaxation. A day of complete leisure, the one day of the week where work was set aside. Sunday services began the day, followed by socializing on the steps of the church with neighbors. Taryn looked forward to her first day away from the ranch since the accident three weeks earlier. A shadow of a bruise discernible along her cheek the only visible reminder of the incident.
While Jonathan and Gwen stood talking with Reverend Flaherty, she and Brad stood on the steps waiting. Luke and Anita called out to them from the doorway of the church.
“Don’t make any plans with Anita for today, Taryn,” Brad whispered. “I want to discuss some things with you and your family this afternoon.”
She nodded. Brad had been hinting at their wedding plans, and she ascertained whatever he wanted to discuss dealt with the occasion.
“Reverend Flaherty certainly felt his oats today, didn’t he?” Luke commented, as he and Anita reached them.
Anita gave him an admonishing slap on his arm. “Luke.”
“I don’t mean any harm by it. I anticipated the devil himself to make an appearance in those balls of hellfire Reverend Flaherty kept referring to throughout the service. After his speech, I’m tempted to wear a clergyman’s collar myself.”
“Taryn,” Anita sai
d, ignoring Luke’s joke, “it’s nice to see you out again.”
“I’m anxious to resume a normal schedule.”
“I’m glad. Perhaps both of you might like to join Luke and me for dinner this evening? You could come by early so we can have an afternoon ride if you feel well enough.”
The idea sounded ideal to Taryn, but reminded of Brad’s words, she politely declined. “Unfortunately, we have other plans this afternoon.”
“Oh, too bad. Another time then.”
“Anytime,” she agreed. She glanced up at Brad, who seemed distracted. Brad didn’t care for Luke and Anita. She couldn’t understand why. They were two of the most carefree people she’d ever met, but it may have been reason enough for Brad. He considered his business a profession while he felt ranching a lifestyle he charitably tolerated. Her hope was to make Brad see there was room for both business and pleasure in their lives together.
Luke and Anita continued onto their carriage while she and Brad walked with her family to her uncle’s carriage.
“Reverend Flaherty is such a pleasant man,” Madeline commented to Gwen as they walked to the carriage. “He reminds me of our minister back home.”
Dennis grinned. “They’re all cut from the same cloth, Maddie.”
Jonathan erupted in a bald-faced laugh slapping Dennis on the back. “The cloth is always deficient in the pocket area.”
“Well, you two are full of vigor this morning,” Gwen said as Dennis and Jonathan couldn’t seem to curb their laughter. “Not two minutes after the conclusion of the service, and you’re carrying on like a couple of school children who have a week before they have to act repentant again. Perhaps you two should attend a second service since neither of you heard a thing Reverend Flaherty said this morning.”
Jonathan was not penitent. “How could you help but hear him. His bellow woke me up and near knocked me out of my seat!”
Laughter erupted from Dennis. He and Jonathan were beside themselves with their joking.
Gwen turned to Maddie, both eyeing their husbands. “Maddie, I believe we’ve married heathens.”
“Yes, a shame isn’t it. It’s to hell in a hand basket for them.”
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