Bridie brushed Ethan’s lips with hers. “Just three throws, I promise. Then I’m all yours.”
She tossed the lopsided ball across the yard. Milo scampered away to fetch it. Rocket came to Ethan’s side and Ethan sat on the top step to pat the older Australian Shepherd.
Milo returned the ball and waited for Bridie to toss it again. This time she threw it to the back of the yard. Milo followed. When he reached the ball he tried to grasp it but his nose propelled it further and it rolled beneath a bush. Milo whined and looked back at her.
“Okay, you poor possum. I’ll get it for you.”
She walked over and bent to look at the ball wedged toward the back of the bush. She reached into the thick leaves. Too late she registered the small round wasps’ nest in line with her lowered shoulder. She pulled back her hand but not before a pair of angry brown wasps buzzed and swooped. Pain shot through her upper arm.
She clutched at the bite and slowly sank to the ground, trying to keep her breathing even. Soon she’d be fighting for her every breath. Milo’s wet nose nuzzled her leg.
Ethan was beside her in an instant. “EpiPen?” he said hoarsely, even as he lifted her into his arms and turned toward the house.
“Purse.”
Eyes closed, she waited for the pain of the sting to be replaced by a telltale tightness in her chest.
“Hang in there, honey,” Ethan breathed as he maneuvered open the kitchen door and raced inside.
She felt herself laid down on something cold and smooth. She opened her eyes to see Ethan pulling the EpiPen out of her purse that Henry held. She took a deep breath ... and then another. Just when Ethan was about to jab the EpiPen into her thigh, she grabbed his forearm.
“Hang on.”
“Bridie?” Ethan’s tone was tortured. She knew he understood that he had to administer the epinephrine as soon as possible to prevent her body from going into anaphylactic shock.
She sat up and breathed again. Easily. “I ... think ... I’m okay.”
She looked at Ethan. Strain etched his face in sharp, haggard lines.
“The bite hurts but with a bee sting usually I can’t breathe by now. I mightn’t be allergic to wasps. No one knew for sure if I’d react the same way as I do to bees.”
“Henry...” Ethan spoke without looking at his father.
“Calling Marietta Hospital now.”
Henry headed for the kitchen.
Ethan placed the EpiPen on the sofa arm and bent close. “Can I take a look?”
She lifted her hand. They both examined the swollen bite. While it was red and angry, no hives had broken out over her skin and her arm remained the normal size.
“See, everything looks ... fine.” She placed a hand on Ethan’s chest to reassure him she was okay.
Ethan’s only reply was to press a long kiss to her forehead. Beneath her palm she could feel the pounding of his heart and the ripples of his tension.
The shuffle of Henry’s footsteps sounded and he stood in the doorway, expression grim but grip on the phone relaxed.
“Okay. A reaction may still happen half an hour later but apparently bee and wasp venom are different and yes, having a reaction to one, doesn’t guarantee you will react the same way to the other. I’m calling your mother now to let her know what has happened.”
“Thanks, Henry. Please tell her not to worry.”
He nodded and disappeared.
Bridie smiled and swung her legs from off the sofa. “There you go. I’m not allergic to wasps. I’m fine. Crisis over.”
But Ethan didn’t return her smile.
Grave-faced and solemn, he stared at her.
Bridie swallowed. She knew such a look. It was the same one she’d glimpsed on her face in the hospital windows as she’d sat first with her mother and then with her father during rounds of chemotherapy and radiation.
It was a look of abject fear, of powerlessness, of desperation. It was a look that she’d never wanted to see again or to have reflected back at her in the mirror.
Ethan cared for her. If he even felt half of what she did for him, then he cared a great deal. Everything she’d ever wanted, love, a family and a home, the man standing before her could give her. But seeing his anguish that he might lose her reminded her of life’s uncertainty, fragility and unfairness.
She’d almost lost her mother and then she did lose her father, could she now open herself up to more pain? Could she take the risk and live the dream with the man she loved knowing he could be taken from her at any moment? She trembled. Even for a risk-taker such a risk seemed overwhelming.
Ethan leaned forward to take hold of her hands. “You’ve gone white.” He squeezed her fingers. “And you’re shaking.”
“I’m okay.” But her words lacked her earlier bravado and conviction.
“No, you’re not. You’re going into shock.”
He carefully gathered her into his arms. “You need to rest and are going to see the inside of Henry’s guest room, after all.”
“How is she?” Henry asked as Ethan returned from checking on Bridie.
“Hard to say. She always puts on a brave face but she doesn’t feel like dinner so that’s not a good sign.”
Ethan dragged a still unsteady hand through his hair. When he’d researched how to use an EpiPen, he’d been left in no doubt about the life-threatening nature of Bridie’s bee allergy. When she’d sunk to the ground holding her arm, it was as though his heart had stopped. And it now had only just resumed beating. While Bridie still hadn’t shown any reaction to the wasp sting, he was taking no chances and would keep a close watch over her.
He spoke again. “She had a bag packed in case she stayed at Payton’s so I’ve taken it to her. There’s no way she’s going anywhere tonight.”
Henry grunted. “Good luck with that. She’s an Ashton. Her great-grandfather rode a whole cattle drive with a shattered elbow. They’re almost as stubborn as us Watsons.”
“So that gives me the edge then?”
“Nope.” A smile shaped Henry’s mouth. “She also has her grandmother Daisy’s blood running through her veins. Your grandmother, Violet, was the sweetest woman to ever live. You don’t stand a chance against Bridie when she sets her mind to something.” Henry’s eyes twinkled. “Unless of course, she’s foolish enough to have feelings for you, in which case that makes you both even.”
“Foolish enough? I am your son remember? You’re supposed to say nice things about me.”
Henry chuckled. “I am. One look at Cordell will tell you what you’re dealing with and to think twice before crossing him. But you, my quietly-spoken son, are far more dangerous. People underestimate and misjudge you. A woman sure would be foolish to care for you without knowing the real you.”
Ethan searched his father’s face. Was he trying to tell him that Bridie did or didn’t know the real him?
Henry squeezed his shoulder as he shuffled past. “But lucky for you, from the first day she met you, Bridie has always seen who you are.”
Henry’s words stayed with Ethan as he prepared a tray for Bridie. He’d take her some toast and juice and see if he could encourage her to eat. He hadn’t missed the earlier rumble of her stomach.
Bridie did see the real him. She knew that beneath his composure he could be as wild and as unbridled as his brother; it was just that life had shaped him a different way. She wasn’t shocked, or dismayed, at the contrast between how he presented to the world and who he really was. Instead the energetic, restless part of Bridie understood his deepest, hidden depths. Just like he now saw that for all her spontaneity and risk taking, a part of Bridie was also sensible, rational and cautious. She’d held onto her grief to mourn in private to spare her mother worry. She also hadn’t rushed into sleeping with him on their first trip away. She’d said they weren’t so different and she’d been right.
He picked up the dinner tray. Yesterday he’d shown her through touch how much he loved her but it wasn’t yet time to put his feelings in
to words. His conscience still whispered that he had to go slow, no matter that Bridie disagreed. She still needed a chance to heal. At least now they had the summer, and time, to allow what was between them to develop.
He quietly pushed open her door. The bedroom light was on but Bridie could be asleep. As the door widened, he discovered she was far from sleepy. Instead, she paced the width of the guest room, her ponytail loose and her hair tousled.
He stepped into the room and she swung around. Still pale and her eyes wide, she seemed to be having no trouble breathing.
“Hungry?” He placed the tray on a table that overlooked the window.
“No, but thanks.” She didn’t look at the tray. Instead her chin lifted as though harnessing some inner strength.
“Ethan ...”
“Yes.” He folded his arms. Something was wrong. Her energy levels were too high. Her eyes too over-bright. Her agitation didn’t have anything to do with her wasp sting that she earlier handled with both calm and composure.
“Ethan ... you take such care of me and are always so thoughtful and considerate. You’re such a good man.”
His eyes narrowed. There was a ‘but’ coming.
“But ...”
He stiffened. There it was.
“But ... I think you were right. We need to take ... us ... a little slower. I don’t think I’m ready ... after all.”
He nodded, forcing his expression to remain unchanging and his pain to remain buried. “We can take as much time as you need.”
Her hand speared through her hair. “The thing is I’m not sure I can do this ... at all.”
His heart fell. He moved to touch her, to soothe her anxiety but she backed away, chin still angled.
His arm slowly lowered. “Bridie, I can understand that things have moved too quickly between us, and I’m sorry I didn’t do what I should have yesterday, and not let us rush into anything.”
This time she moved. She touched his cheek. “Yesterday was perfect.” The warmth of her fingertips seeped into his skin but couldn’t warm the chill engulfing him. “This has everything to do with me and nothing to do with anything you’ve done. It feels like I’ve been waiting forever to find you and now ... now I’m worried that we won’t have forever together.”
“Nothing’s certain, my childhood taught me that, but you can’t let the ‘what ifs’ stop you from living your life.” He caught her fingers and kissed them. “I’d wait a thousand forevers to find you. I’m not going anywhere.”
She blinked and stepped into his arms. He held her close like he’d never let her go. His hand slid into her hair. “Try and sleep. Everything will seem different in the morning. We’ll talk then.”
“You slept in.”
Ethan frowned and rubbed a hand across his bare chest. Henry’s gruff voice seemed overly loud in the kitchen that didn’t usually smell of coffee until after breakfast.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. You needed to be out of bed an hour ago.”
Ethan struggled to understand through the fog of little sleep. “What do you mean?”
Henry handed him a steaming mug. He took a quick sip and spluttered at the strength. “And Bridie thinks I make strong coffee?”
“You’ll need it.”
Henry then handed him a note. Ethan came fully awake. The feminine handwriting on the folded paper had to be Bridie’s.
“What’s in this? Have you read it?”
Henry scowled. “You know I can’t read without my glasses; they’re over near my crossword book.”
Ethan prised open the note and his mouth dried.
Bridie’s message was simple but it was what it didn’t say that was ominous.
Dear Ethan
I’ve gone to the mountains for the day. I feel fine and I’ve taken bear spray and my EpiPen.
Hope it’s okay, Henry, I’ve taken Molly. And Henry, that missing crossword answer is anemone.
Bridie
Ethan slowly lowered the note. What Bridie hadn’t said was why she’d felt the sudden need to go away alone and also that they’d talk when she’d got back. He thought they’d had the summer to slow things down and for him to tell her that he loved her. But if the concerns she felt last night remained, if she’d woken and nothing looked different, he might already be out of time. His hands shook. He could only hope that her trip didn’t signal that the woman he loved could now be beyond his reach.
“What are you waiting for?” Henry glowered. “She’s got over an hour’s head start. I don’t care if she says she feels fine, she can’t be if she’s gone up there without you.”
Ethan sighed. “I thought you said you can’t read without your glasses?”
“I can’t. But Bridie left the note over there by my glasses.” Henry turned toward the stove top. “Have a shower and I’ll cook you a hot breakfast. You’ll need it.”
Ethan didn’t move. Bridie wouldn’t appreciate him racing off after her. He was the reason she’d gone into the backcountry; he owed it to her to give her the space she needed.
He stared out the oversize kitchen window at the high country that remained draped in cloud. The sun might have risen but the sky remained a gloomy grey. The weather was closing in and storms were predicted.
Then there were the poachers. Cordell had confirmed that the man they’d seen at Bear Paw Falls was no photographer. Cordell had removed several animal traps and passed on their locations and details to the Sheriff’s department. It also had to have been a poacher who’d watched them through binoculars the afternoon they’d ridden back from the log cabin meadow.
His conscience overrode his caution. He couldn’t leave Bridie up there by herself. His emotions overrode his logic. He’d taken a huge risk going into the mountains alone with her on their first trip. Now he had to take an even bigger risk. No longer did he have time on his side to go slow, he had to do what he never did and rush in. He had to find her and tell her how he felt. If she knew he loved her perhaps she’d feel more confident that forever was within their grasp. Cordell was right. Bridie was worth taking every risk in the book for. He had to risk everything for ... love.
His hands fisted as he scanned the brooding and rugged peaks. “Henry, she could be anywhere.”
His father came and stood beside him.
“Son, trust your instincts. You of all people will know where she’ll go.”
Chapter Ten
Warm breath blew on Bridie’s cheek and soft velvet rubbed her skin. She awoke to the smell of damp earth and Molly nuzzling her. She uncurled from her cramped position on the saddle blanket and pushed off the rain slicker she’d slept under. The cave hadn’t proved any warmer on her second visit.
She rubbed the mustang’s buckskin nose. “Morning, how long did I sleep?”
The grey light beyond the rock shelter’s entrance confirmed it was past daybreak. She stretched and Molly ambled out of the cave to graze on the nearby grass. Bridie rolled her stiff shoulders. She had no idea what time she’d slipped out of the ranch house to saddle Molly but it had been pitch dark. After her talk with Ethan, she’d tried to sleep. What he’d said would be true. In the morning things would look different. The cold fear that she’d one day lose him wouldn’t continue to eclipse her deep love and need to be with him.
But sleep had been elusive and the more she tossed and turned the more her thoughts had raced and her fear had grown. In the end, she’d thrown off the covers and dragged on her jeans. She’d needed to go somewhere that would provide solace. Except she hadn’t made it to the high elevation lake where she’d found such happiness with Ethan. Somewhere on the ride through the north meadow her lids had drifted shut and she’d fallen asleep in the saddle, only waking when Molly had brought her to the cave.
Bridie pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them. She’d wake up a little more and then continue to the lake. She was certain Ethan wouldn’t follow. He’d know she’d need time alone. Wind rustled through the pine trees beyond the c
ave. The weather wouldn’t be great, but she’d grabbed a rain slicker from the mudroom, knowing Henry wouldn’t mind.
She watched as Molly grazed. Once wild and free, the mustang was now content to stay close. The instincts that once had kept her safe and told her to flee from humans now told her she had nothing to fear. Bridie swallowed. Could the same happen for her? Could her flight instincts that told her not to take a risk when the odds were stacked against her be appeased? Knowing that life could change in an instant with only a phone call or a single doctor’s visit, could she find the courage to let go of her fears and love?
She rested her chin on her knees. Wind again whistled through the pine trees and carried the scent of rain into the cave. She closed her eyes but instead of pain and loss, she remembered the happiness connected with such a smell. Riding her pony with her father through an overflowing stream. Hearing the joy in his laughter as rain drummed on the roof after a summer of no rain. The ache to see him and talk to him would always be there but now so too was the beauty of her memories.
Her eyes opened. Ethan had reassured her that it was okay to let go of her grief. And it had been. If she wanted to soothe her flight instinct she needed to now do the same with her fears. She needed to let them go or lose the one man who made her feel complete, who understood and accepted her for who she was.
She came to her feet. If she and Ethan didn’t have forever, that had to be okay. She’d make the most of each day. She’d laugh, live and love and have the family and home she’d always dreamed of and she’d do so without ... fear.
She whistled to Molly.
“Time to saddle up. We’re not going to the lake ... we’ve got a cowboy to talk to.”
Bridie hung the rain slicker in the mudroom, removed her boots and made her way into the kitchen. Heart in her throat, she looked around for Ethan but all she saw was Henry seated in his usual chair. His glasses might be on, but no pen filled his hand and the crossword book before him lay shut.
“I expected you back hours ago.”
Bridie ignored his gruff tone and slid into the seat in front of him. Henry’s heart was as tender as his strong son’s.
His Outback Cowgirl (Wildflower Ranch Book 4) Page 11