Both Emily and Anna watched in stunned horror as Miguel threw himself between the baby and the vicious horse. With his back to the stallion, he scooped Harlan protectively against his chest.
Then everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The animal reared on his hind legs, then brought down both front hooves against Miguel’s upper back. The force of the horse’s blow staggered Miguel. He went to his knees, but somehow managed to hold on to the baby.
By the time the two women clambered to the ground inside the pen, the stallion had reared and struck Miguel a second time, then trotted away to one corner where he nervously pranced, snorted and tossed his head.
Emily snatched her son into her arms and quickly inspected him for injuries. Anna grabbed Miguel’s arm as he lurched forward like a drunk man.
“Miguel! You’re hurt!”
“The baby—”
Anna glanced at Emily who was nodding with relief. “He’s fine, Miguel. But you’re not!”
“Can’t...breathe. I...”
If Anna hadn’t been holding on to him he would have fallen in the dirt rather than into the circle of her arms. As she tried to support his sagging weight, she looked frantically at Emily.
“Go call 911!”
With Harlan clutched safely in her arms, Emily raced off toward the house.
“The stallion...” Miguel wheezed through clenched teeth.
“I’ll take care of him,” she said firmly.
He shook his head as his fingers bit into the flesh of her arm. “Get out...before he hurts you!”
She couldn’t believe he was concerned about her safety when it was all he could do to keep from collapsing. “Can you make it to the fence?”
“Try,” he gasped.
The pallor on his face and his struggle for breath terrified Anna, but for the moment she tried not to think about how badly he might be injured. She had to concentrate on getting him away from the dangerous horse and to medical care.
By the time she half dragged Miguel to the corner of the pen, he was on the verge of passing out. She didn’t want to leave him for a second, but from the corner of her eye, she could see the stallion was charging up for another attack.
The animal didn’t like anyone in his territory. But most often he accepted it. Anna had never seen him behave so viciously, and she feared if she didn’t do something and fast, he would paw Miguel again.
All the cowhands were out vaccinating cattle in one of the back pastures. She’d sent the two grooms to Alamogordo to fetch a mended saddle from a tack shop. There was no one but her to save Miguel.
Her mind spun as her eyes darted around the pen. How was she going to get the animal out of there without him hurting her, too? And then she spotted a coiled lariat resting atop a fence post. She made a dash for the rope and quickly built a large loop. A few yards away, the black stallion began trotting back and forth and shaking his head from side to side.
Slowly, with the lariat rope held close to her side, she began to inch nearer the animal. He rolled his eyes, snorted, then kicked out with both back feet. Hooves slammed furiously against the metal fencing. The pipe clattered loudly but thankfully held together.
With her heart beating in her throat, Anna moved closer still. The horse pinned his ears, bared his teeth and charged. Anna stood her ground until the horse was almost to her, then quickly sidestepped his path at the last moment. He ran on past her, giving her enough time to whirl the loop open above her head. When the horse turned and headed back in her direction, she was ready. With the flip of her wrist, she threw a backward loop that settled neatly over the horse’s head.
She pulled the slack and dug in the heels of her cowboy boots at the same time. The power of the horse jerked her off her feet, and she landed in a belly flop against the hard ground, but somehow she managed to hold on to the lariat. The horse began to drag her as she gripped the rope with all her might, refusing to give up. The hard nylon slipped through her hands taking skin, blood and flesh with it.
Just when Anna thought she couldn’t stand the searing pain another second, the horse stopped. Dazed with fear and exertion, she rose to her feet, then stumbled over to the nearest fence post and whipped the rope around the rail.
Once she had the horse safely tied, she hurried over to Miguel and sank to her knees beside his crumpled form. His face was still deathly gray, and his breathing was so shallow she feared it was going to stop altogether.
“Miguel! The paramedics are coming. We’ll get you to the hospital soon,” she said to assure him.
He groaned and attempted to speak.
“The...stallion.. You...roped...him.”
Anna cradled his head in her lap and smiled tearfully down at him. “I had to, darling,” she whispered shakily. “He was going to hurt you again.”
Miguel opened his mouth to speak again. He wanted to tell her how very brave and very foolish she was. He wanted to tell her she’d saved his life. But he couldn’t find the strength to form the words.
His eyes tried to talk, and they must have conveyed something to her because she smiled down at him again. She spoke softly, but the roaring in his head drowned out her words. He felt her bloody hand press tenderly against the side of his face, and then everything went black.
Chapter Eight
When Miguel woke later that night, he was wrapped in pain and totally disoriented. There was no bright sky above his head or desert wind on his face. Instead of pine and sage, the air was stale and faintly scented with disinfectant.
With great effort he slowly forced his heavy eyelids open. The room was in semidarkness, but as his eyes grew accustomed to the subdued light, he recognized he was in a medical facility. Two intravenous tubes were stuck in his arm, and just to the left of the bed some sort of monitor beeped to the rhythm of his heart.
His first inclination was to raise himself up, but the excruciating pain stabbed him like a thousand knife blades. He groaned out loud and fell limply back against the pillow.
From a chair in the corner of the small room, Anna heard him and hurried to the side of the bed.
“Miguel! You’re finally awake.” She clicked on a small light over the top of his head.
He looked up at her and realized there was nothing he’d rather see at this moment than Anna’s face. He tried to speak, but his mouth was like a dry arroyo. He swallowed and tried again. “What’s the matter with me? I feel like a trussed-up turkey.”
His voice was groggy from the painkillers they’d given him earlier, but Anna was certain she’d never heard a lovelier sound. “Several of your ribs were broken. One punctured your lung. But the doctor says you’re going to be fine now.”
Anna didn’t go on to tell him just how serious his condition had been by the time they’d gotten him to the emergency room. There was plenty of time for that later. She didn’t want to worry him needlessly.
Fractured images began to race through Miguel’s mind. The stallion rearing on his legs, baby Harlan crying and Anna being drug on the end of a rope. “Is little Harlan okay?”
“He’s fine, thanks to you.”
Her answer filled him with relief. “When can I get out of here.”
“The doctor says in a few days. If you progress well.”
He looked incredulous. “I can’t stay here a few days,” he said with as much force as he could muster under the circumstances. “I have work to do.”
“The only work you have now is getting those ribs mended back together,” she told him. “The ranch will be taken care of until that happens.”
He frowned at her skeptically. “Don’t tell me you’re going to take care of everything.”
She shook her head and smiled at him. “Only part of it. Uncle Harlan is going to take over for you. By the way, the whole family is out in the waiting room. They’ll be happy to hear you’ve come around.”
He was overwhelmed, and it showed on his face. “They’re in the waiting room? But why?”
It struck Anna then just
how completely alone this man believed he was, and it tore a hole right in her heart. “Because,” she said softly, “they all care about you. And Emily and Cooper want to thank you for saving their baby.”
“I didn’t—”
“Don’t try to act humble, Miguel. If you hadn’t grabbed little Harlan and put yourself between him and that stallion there’s no telling what might have happened. One blow from his hoof would have killed the baby!” It almost killed you, she very nearly added.
Miguel’s gaze dropped to the white sheet covering his chest. “I only did what I would have done to save my own boy.”
His own boy. Anna had not forgotten, even for a moment, about Miguel’s son. Now she could only think about a twelve-year-old boy out there somewhere who had no idea his father was a brave hero or that he was hurt and in the hospital. It was incredibly sad to think about, and she had to look away and swallow the burning lump in her throat.
“I know. You would do it for any child,” she said huskily. Then, looking back at him, she added, “Do you have any idea why the stallion went so berserk? He’s been on the ranch since I was a teenager. He’s certainly always been an animal you have to be cautious around, but I’ve never seen him become so vicious.”
Miguel grimaced. “Sometimes it’s hard to say what makes an animal suddenly switch gears. Most stallions are volatile. But as for this one, I don’t know. Little Harlan’s crying might have scared or disturbed him.”
Anna shook her head and shuddered at the awful memory. “Well, whatever the reason, the horse is going to be sold at auction Friday.”
He stared at her. “Under whose authority?”
“My mother’s. She’s already been contacted about your accident She says she’s not about to chance the horse hurting someone else.”
“He’s sired some wonderful offspring. I hate to see him go.”
“I don’t. I hate him for what he did to you.”
Her words had him taking a second look at her. She was pale; her undereyes shadowed with fatigue. He wondered how long she’d been sitting in the room with him, and what her family must be thinking about her being here.
“He could have killed you, Anna! He was dragging you, and you wouldn’t let go!”
“I couldn’t let go, Miguel. He would have trampled you or both of us.”
She brought her hand up and brushed at the limp black curl lying against his forehead. It was then Miguel realized her hands were bandaged. He caught the one nearest his face and studied the thick pad of bandages on her palms and fingers.
“I’m glad I can’t see the damage beneath these things,” he muttered grimly. “That was a crazy thing you did. Now your hands—your playing—”
She placed a fingertip against his lips. “My hands will be fine.”
But if they weren’t, would she blame him? he wondered. No. Anna would never blame him for such a thing. He was beginning to see she was not that sort of selfish woman. She’d risked her own life to save his. And that was very nearly too much for his heart to comprehend.
“If I thought you couldn’t play anymore because of me—” He winced as he tried to draw in a deep breath. “I couldn’t live with that, Anna.”
Her green eyes were soft as she laid her hand on his shoulder. “You’re talking too much. You should be resting. I’m going to go let the nurse know you’re awake. You might be needing more painkiller.”
He needed her, Miguel thought. Much more than any drug. She eased the pain in his heart, where he hurt the most. But he wasn’t a fool. He realized she would be far more addictive than a drug, and in the end much harder to get and keep.
She leaned forward to get up and he caught her fingers gently with his. His thumb rubbed the edges of the adhesive, fastened to the back of her hand. “Is your family really out there?” he asked.
The fact that he had any doubts filled Anna with such sorrow that tears stung the backs of her eyes. “Yes. They are. Rose and Harlan. Roy and Justine. Emily and Cooper. Emily is especially distraught because you were hurt. She feels guilty because little Harlan managed to slip away from her.”
He shook his head. “It would be hard to find a better mother than Emily. Little ones can get away in the blink of an eye.”
“Did you know she and Cooper are expecting another baby?”
The look of surprise on his face answered her question. “That’s good,” he said. “That’s as it should be.”
And the way it should be with him and her, Anna thought, but she kept the notion to herself. Miguel had to get well before she could convince him he, too, had a right to happiness.
By the end of the week Miguel was well enough to be released from the hospital, but far from capable of taking care of himself. Chloe and Wyatt had cut their trip short to come back home, and when Anna drove Miguel back to the ranch she waited until they were nearly to the honeymoon house before she sprang the news on him.
“Your parents are back from South America? When? Why did they bother? This was their vacation!”
She frowned at him. “They got in late last night. And I’m not so sure it was exactly a vacation or a honeymoon.”
“What do you mean by that?”
She glanced across the seat at him. It was wonderful to see him dressed in his jeans and boots again, rather than hospital pajamas. And even though his loose plaid shirt hid the tight binding around his ribs and his face was pale and gaunt, he looked far better than when he’d first entered the emergency room. For as long as she lived, Anna knew she would never forget the terror she’d gone through, thinking he might die.
“I’m beginning to think my parents went away just to give me a dose of responsibility,” she said.
He grunted. “And what has it done for you besides ruin your hands? They must have been crazy and I must have been even crazier for allowing you to step foot in the stables.”
She didn’t let his comments rile her. Even though Miguel did it in a domineering way, she was beginning to see it was his way of trying to protect her. “My hands aren’t ruined. And anyway, my parents came home because Mother knew she was going to have to take over again.”
“Why? Because you’ve had all you can take of ranch life?”
His caustic question took her by surprise. So did his ill humor. She’d expected him to be chipper this morning and happy he was finally going home. Instead, he was like an angry hornet ready to sting anyone in his path. Most of all her.
She sighed inwardly. “No. I haven’t had my fill of ranch life. My roots are here at the Bar M,” she reminded him, then when he failed to respond, she added, “Mother’s taking over the horses again so that I can take care of you.”
His head whipped around to face her. “You’re what?”
She smiled at his shocked expression. “You heard me.”
“Yeah. But I was hoping I heard wrong. I’ll be taking care of myself.”
Anna rolled her eyes. “Look, Miguel, everyone knows you’re a macho man. It isn’t going to ruin your image to have a woman see after you for a few days.”
Anna in his house, filling it with her presence and memories that he would never be able to erase. He couldn’t let it happen.
“I don’t need a woman seeing after me!” he growled. “Besides, Justine told me your manager is wanting you back on tour again.”
Anna’s lips thinned to a grim line. She wished her aunt hadn’t told Miguel anything about her job. Her piano career already stood like a wall between them. And the more she tried to convince him she wanted to give it up, the more fickle and confused he believed she was.
“Not just yet. I’ve got time enough to see you back to your feet, cowboy.”
He glowered at her. “I can walk to the kitchen. What the hell do I need you around for?”
She tried to tell herself he was a wounded male lashing out because of his condition, rather than at her. But the question hurt just the same. Because there was a deep fear inside Anna that he might not truly need her or want her around.
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“To have someone to yell at I suppose,” she said quietly.
He glanced at her rigid profile, then groaned out loud. “Damn it, Anna, you know I didn’t mean that like it sounded.”
She brought the pickup to a halt in front of the honeymoon house, then set the emergency brake. Turning in the seat to face him, she asked, “Do I, Miguel?”
To her surprise he reached over and took her hand. She melted as his long fingers entwined with hers.
“Anna,” he said huskily. “It will be—I don’t think we should be alone together up here.”
“Why? I won’t try to ravish you,” she promised, and he groaned as her lips tilted up in a teasing little smile.
“Be serious.”
“You told me I didn’t have a sense of humor. I’m trying to work on it.”
Seeing he was getting nowhere with her, he looked away and swiped both hands through his disheveled hair. “I feel naked without my hat.”
“The stallion stomped it,” she informed him. “It’s going to need reshaping.”
And if Anna stayed here with him for any length of time, he was going to need reshaping, he thought desperately. But he couldn’t send her back down to the ranch. Chloe and Wyatt would be insulted. Anna would be hurt. And he would be lost without her.
This past week she’d sat in the hospital room with him nearly twenty-four hours a day. He hadn’t asked for such devotion. She’d simply given it to him. And he’d been unable to send her away. He still couldn’t. Miguel knew his weakness now would eventually cost him dearly.
He glanced back at her, and his heart turned over at the yearning he saw on her face. “Anna, don’t expect me to be nice while you’re here. I’m not necessarily a nice man.”
A faint smile touched her lips. “If I need to get away from you, I know how to drive back down the mountain.”
He let out a long breath and reached to open the door. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I guess you do.”
Miguel was bombarded with company over the next several days. The ranch hands, her family, several neighbors, then more of her family all came to wish him a speedy recovery.
The Cowboy And The Debutante Page 12