The Cowboy's Autumn Fall

by Shanna Hatfield

  “Certainly,” Bailey said, walking over to where a couple of the girls were untangling one particularly bunched up string of lights and lent a hand.

  While Brice and Ben cut and pounded wood into a stage, the rest of the group got all the lights strung around the barn following Tess’ direction. As the last string was plugged in, they all stood back and looked around, admiring the way the lights lit up the interior and made it seem not so much like a barn and more like a fun place for a celebration.

  Bailey was quiet most of the afternoon, her thoughts continuing to mull over her relationship with Brice. Unlike most girls, Bailey had never dreamed of her own wedding. Caught up in the romantic, festive atmosphere, Bailey found herself planning an outdoor wedding in spring when everything was blooming and fresh. As much as she enjoyed the autumn season, she would definitely want a spring wedding with soft pastel colors and apple blossoms, baskets of tulips and fluffy white bows. Someone would play a harp and Brice would wear a tux and…

  Giving herself a mental scolding at letting her thoughts turn so fanciful, Bailey felt the beginnings of a headache and realized she didn’t bring her purse along with her migraine medication.

  Deciding to ignore the dull pounding in her head, Bailey was helping sweep the barn floor when she smelled Brice’s scent about the same time his hand settled on her waist.

  “Close your eyes and open your mouth,” Brice said, his breath tickling her ear, making a shiver work its way from her head to her toes.

  Bailey stood completely still and followed Brice’s orders, opening her mouth. She felt something cool on her tongue and tasted something sweet, like white chocolate. Biting down, the flavors of pumpkin and spices filled her mouth and she popped her eyes open in delighted surprise.

  Kissing her cheek, Brice watched her face fill with pleasure.

  “Like it?” he asked, holding her hand in his as she finished eating the candy.

  “That was one of the best things I’ve ever eaten,” Bailey said, pleased that Brice remembered she liked pumpkin. “Where did you get it?”

  “There’s a shop in The Dalles that sells truffles. When Trav and I went into town the other night we ran by and I picked up a few pumpkin flavored ones,” Brice said, handing her a small box. Bailey opened the lid to see five more truffles nestled inside. Two looked to be milk chocolate, two dark chocolate, and another white chocolate.

  “That is so very thoughtful, Brice. Thank you,” Bailey said, stretching up to give him a kiss on the cheek. He turned his head at the last minute so the kiss instead landed on his lips.

  Bailey gave him an exasperated look. “You are completely in…” Brice cut her off with a finger to her lips, causing her to wonder if they might explode from the tingling sensation his touch produced.

  “Need of more of your kisses, I know. But we’ve got more work to finish up before we can think about that. If you’re a good little girl, I might even take you out for dinner later,” Brice said, giving Bailey a wink as he walked back to where he and Ben were cleaning up the stage construction project.

  The next thing Bailey knew, Brice and Ben had music blaring and the kids were making sure there was plenty of room for dancing in front of the stage. Bailey found herself swept into Brice’s arms before she realized what was happening.

  Grateful for Sierra’s insistence she learn how to dance, Bailey could hold her own on the dance floor. Staying on the outer fringe of the teens, Brice put her through the paces of a fast two-step.

  As he spun her around for the third time, she felt dizzy as the pain of her headache hit with full force. Bursts of pain blazed behind her eyes, skewing her vision, and she suddenly felt clammy and hot.

  Fighting to keep upright, Bailey stopped in mid-step and reached out blindly as her face lost all color.

  “Sugar, you okay?” Brice asked, alarmed at how fast she’d gone from dancing to staring unseeing at him with pain-glazed eyes.

  “I’m not…” Bailey said before her legs gave out and she started to sink to the floor. Brice caught her before she hit the concrete on the barn floor and swept her into his arms.

  Carrying her out of the barn into the fresh air, Brice sat down on a bale of straw and held Bailey. No one had noticed them leave the barn so Brice sat quietly, waiting for her to tell him what was wrong.

  Opening her eyes, the bright afternoon sunshine sent a wave of nausea crashing over Bailey. Squeezing her eyes closed, she blocked out the light. Swallowing hard, she tried not to move, not to blink, and just focus on taking one breath then another.

  Her head felt like someone was trying to split it in two by driving a stake behind her right eye. It had been years since she’d had a migraine this bad and, of course, she wasn’t anywhere close to her prescription. Once the nausea set in, she was going to have to ride it out.

  “Home, please,” Bailey managed to whisper as Brice leaned over her, fanning her face with his hand. She was cold and clammy, yet beads of perspiration dotted her forehead and upper lip.

  “Ben!” Brice bellowed back into the barn. “Get my truck!” Some of the kids near the open door, ran outside to see what was wrong, concerned to see Bailey looking so pale.

  Ben ran by them, grabbing the keys Brice tossed and quickly returned with Brice’s pickup.

  “You want me to drive?” Ben asked as Brice nodded, still holding Bailey in his arms. Ben opened the passenger door and Brice somehow managed to climb in without letting her go. Ben floored the pickup and they headed toward the Triple T.

  “Is she diabetic or something?” Ben asked, watching Bailey turn an even more startling shade of white.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Brice said, trying to remember if Bailey had mentioned having any ailments. As far as he knew she was about as healthy as a girl could be. Digging his phone out of his pocket, he called Sierra.

  She answered on the second ring and started to chat, but Brice cut her off, asking if Bailey had any medical issues they needed to know about.

  When Sierra told him no, he described what happened.

  “That’s a migraine,” Sierra said, concerned for Bailey. The headaches didn’t come with any regularity and Bailey had even gone a year and a half once without having one. “She has some medication she takes for it. If it’s a really bad one, she’ll be a little out of it for a day or two. Keep the room dark and quiet. Sometimes it makes her throw up, so be warned. And they always make her grumpy.”

  “Thanks, Sierra. I’ll call later and let you know how she’s doing,” Brice said, glad that he and Sierra had struck up a friendship in their mutual desire to see him together with Bailey.

  Looking down at Bailey, he could see her pain in the way she held her lips rolled together and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Brushing the hair off her damp forehead, he bent down and kissed her nose.

  Opening one eye, Bailey glanced up at Brice. She wanted to smile at him, wanted to thank him for his caring touch and tender care. But she couldn’t. If she moved at all, she was going to start throwing up and that was something she could not even contemplate as Ben turned off the highway and started up the Triple T Ranch’s long driveway. When he hit a bump in the road that jostled them, Bailey whimpered and held onto her head with both hands.

  “Careful, bro,” Brice cautioned Ben, casting a warning look at his brother. As much as he loved Bailey he really didn’t want to think about what would happen if she threw up right then. Instead, he lightly rubbed her jean-clad leg and offered words of encouragement. “We’re almost there, sugar. Hang on for just a few more minutes.”

  Ben pulled up at the door to the mud room and ran around the pickup, opening the door for Brice then hurried to hold open the door to the house. Brice carefully slid off the seat cradling Bailey to his chest then hustled up the steps, through the mud room, and into the kitchen.

  Calling for Cady, Ben remembered her saying she was going over to the Drexel house to see how the guys were doing before coming home. She probably hadn’t gotten back yet.
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br />   Brice walked down the hall to the room where Bailey had been staying since she returned to the ranch. Gently placing her on the bed, she sank back and lay perfectly still.

  “What do you need, sugar?” Brice asked, watching Bailey swallow a couple of times.

  “Water,” she managed to say between clenched teeth.

  Brice left the room and went to the kitchen where Ben was waiting.

  “Why don’t you go back home?” Brice said as he got Bailey a glass of cold water. “I’ll stay with her until Cady comes back.”

  “Are you sure?” Ben asked, knowing Brice had never once in his life taken care of a sick human. He ran away from anyone with the sniffles and Ben knew if someone threw up in front of Brice, he was likely to repeat the action himself. Sick animals he dealt with just fine. Sick people were a whole different story.

  “We’ll be fine. Go on,” Brice said, turning back toward the hallway. “Thanks for driving.”

  “Anytime, bro. Good luck,” Ben said as he went out the back door, hoping for Brice’s sake that Bailey wouldn’t get any sicker than she was now.

  Unfortunately by the time Brice returned to the bedroom, Bailey was in the bathroom with the door closed. The sounds Brice could hear let him know that Bailey was feeling much worse instead of better. It made his own stomach flutter and he took a deep breath to steady himself.

  “Sugar, you need some help?” Brice asked, hoping she’d say no.

  Bailey held back the need to throw up until she could send Brice from the room. Knowing him, he had some gallant idea about taking care of her in her hour of need. The last thing she was going to let happen was to have Brice sit there and watch her throw up. She might not know a lot about guys and relationships, but she was quite certain that was probably a deal-breaker right there.

  Hurrying into the bathroom and emptying her stomach, Bailey now felt so dizzy and sick she was convinced there was no way she could make it back to the bed short of crawling there.

  Sinking down to the floor, she leaned against the wall, holding her head in her hands and crying at the sheer pain that washed over her in excruciating waves.

  Maybe if she sat still long enough, her headache would go away, Brice would go away, and she could go to sleep.

  When Brice tapped on the door and asked if she needed help, it took every ounce of strength she had to raise her voice enough to respond with a “no.”

  All was quiet for a few minutes until she felt the nausea hit her again. Leaning against the sink after rinsing out her mouth, she stood clutching the counter to remain upright when the bathroom door opened and Brice walked in. He took one look at her, picked her up and carried her to the bed. Tears leaked from her closed eyes and she hid her face against his chest, embarrassed.

  “Bailey,” Brice said, laying her on the bed as carefully as he could. She was hot and flushed and looked even worse than she had when he went to get her a drink. He held the glass of water to her lips and she took a few sips before turning her head away. “How can I help you, sugar?”

  “Go home,” she whispered, mortified Brice was seeing her weak and sick as she was. She would die, absolutely die, if she threw up in front of him, which was a strong possibility.

  “Not happening,” Brice said, walking across the room and drawing the drapes closed on the windows, cloaking the room in a muted darkness.

  Going back to the kitchen then out to the mud room, Brice found an old dish pan that would serve the purpose for which he intended and returned to Bailey’s room.

  Despite the fact he knew she would protest, he took off her shoes, removed the denim jacket and cotton shirt she was wearing, leaving her in a tank top and her jeans. He knew the jeans couldn’t be comfortable feeling as awful as she did and informed her either she was taking them off or he would.

  She opened one eye long enough to shoot him a scathing glare then pointed toward a drawer. It took him three tries to find the one she meant and pull out a pair of soft knit pajama bottoms. Handing them to her, he turned his back. The sound of a zipper sliding down had never resonated so loud. He could picture her easing the jeans down her hips and along those long legs.

  Calling himself ten kinds of a fool, he tried to focus on the matter at hand, which was making Bailey more comfortable. He waited another minute before turning around to see her perfectly still on the bed, the jeans in a wad at her feet, the pajamas in place.

  “Better?” he asked, not really expecting a response.

  To his surprise she fluttered one eye at him in what could have been interpreted as a wink.

  Picking up the jeans, he tossed them in the corner with her jacket and shirt before going into the bathroom and running a washcloth under a stream of warm water. He wiped her forehead, then her cheeks and along her lip. He could visibly see her relax so he rinsed out the cloth and repeated the process.

  Bailey’s breathing finally evened out and deepened so Brice knew she was asleep.

  He pulled up a side chair next to the bed and sat watching her.

  Smiling to himself, he thought about what he discovered in the second dresser drawer he’d opened.

  Not even in his wildest dreams would he have imagined Bailey Lorinda Bishop, uptight paleontologist, would own a collection of beautiful lacy lingerie that could put a Victoria’s Secret model to shame.

  Dreaming about seeing her wear some of what he glimpsed made the room seem unbearably warm. Brice was just getting ready to go find something cold to drink when he felt a soft touch on his shoulder and looked up to see Cady.

  She nodded her head toward the door and he followed her back to the kitchen.

  “Tess called,” Cady said as she handed Brice a cold pop from the fridge along with a glass of ice. “How’s she doing?”

  “Better. For a while there, I wasn’t sure what to do but once she quit throwing up she seemed to improve.”

  Cady raised both eyebrows and stared at him. “You mean to tell me you took care of a sick woman? All by yourself?”

  “Well, she wouldn’t let me in the bathroom, but I put her to bed, shut the drapes, got a barf bucket, found her pjs and behaved like a gentleman while she changed, then sponged off her face. That’s about the time she fell asleep, so I’ve just been sitting with her.”

  “Brice, I’m so proud of you,” Cady beamed at him, patting him on the back like she would Cass when she accomplished something new. “After the way you lit out of here a few months ago when Cass threw up all over the kitchen floor, and the way you tend to stay far away from sobbing, hysterical, or upset women, I’m thoroughly impressed. Good for you.”

  Nodding his head, Brice grinned as he and Cady walked back toward Bailey’s room.

  “I guess being crazy in love with someone makes all the difference, doesn’t it?” Cady asked with a sassy grin.

  “Maybe,” Brice said, knowing she was teasing. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to sit with her.”

  “Go ahead. You’re pretty much stranded for a while anyway, so you might as well stay for dinner. Someone can run you home later if Tess doesn’t show up before you’re ready to leave.”

  “Sounds good,” Brice said, walking down the hall to Bailey’s room. Brice, who was hardly ever still, sat quietly in the chair next to the bed, watching Bailey. He loved the way her lips curled up in a smile while she slept, the way her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, the way her honey-colored curls swept around her face in disarray. Her fresh scent filled his nose and he breathed deeply.

  How he loved this strong, independent, frustrating, alluring woman. If someone had asked him a few months ago about love, he would have pointed to the Thompson brothers and laughed. Brice would have said it was crazy and silly and the stuff of fairy tales. Now, he would proclaim it from the rooftops that love was a wondrous, magical, painfully exciting experience. It made you care so deeply for another that it felt like part of your soul had been ripped out and given into that person’s care.

  Bailey, always so strong, confid
ent and precise, appeared so young and sweet as she slept, Brice wondered if she looked like that as a child. Laughing to himself, he thought she most likely only looked like that when she was sleeping since her inquisitive mind seemed to run on overdrive.

  Wanting to touch her, to feel the soft smoothness of her skin against his, he gingerly picked up her hand and kissed the back of it before carefully cradling it in his own.

  “I love you, Bailey,” Brice said, feeling his heart soften at the sight of the sick girl on the bed.

  “I love you, Brice,” Bailey whispered, so quietly, the sound barely made it past her lips but it was loud enough for Brice to hear. He straightened in his chair, waiting for her to open her eyes, to substantiate that most welcome declaration with something more.

  Instead she didn’t rouse from her slumber, snuggling deeper against the pillows of the bed.

  Sighing, Brice swiped his hand over his face and sat back in the chair, wondering if Bailey meant what she said, even though she was asleep. He knew Bailey cared for him, more than she was willing to admit even to herself, but he was starting to wonder if that would be enough. Would she ever allow herself to fall in love with him completely, to be part of an amazing relationship, to share in the passion that he felt for her.

  Knowing he needed to be patient, Brice resigned himself to waiting for however long it took Bailey to return his love and affection. Given enough time, he would wear down her resistance and she’d finally fall in love.

  One hug, one kiss, one moment at a time.

  Chapter Twelve

  “If you're gonna fall apart,

  do it in your own bedroom.”

  Margot Kidder

  “I love you, Brice,” Bailey heard herself say. How had the words escaped her lips? Then she realized she was dreaming, and in her dreams she could say and do all the things she was afraid of facing in reality.