Man From Montana

by Brenda Mott

Connor jerked his head around, and saw the horse had tugged his reins loose from the log, and was now grazing a few feet away. “He’ll be all right,” he said. “He’s just eating.”

  “No, he won’t.” Lisa squirmed out from under his arm, reaching for her crutches. “It’s the one bad habit Lollipop has. He’s the best horse Melanie owns, but he’s harder than heck to catch if you don’t have grain, unless he’s in a pen or box stall.” She started slowly toward the gelding, speaking softly to him.

  Lollipop ignored her, head down, grazing away. But for every step Lisa took, he took two in the opposite direction, and pretty soon, he was moving away at a steady walk.

  “Whoa, Lollipop,” Lisa said. “Whoa, boy.” She moved a little faster.

  The gelding lifted his head, cast a look over his shoulder, then trotted away.

  Maverick let out a whinny of protest, but the chestnut kept going, faster and faster until he broke into a lope, then a gallop.

  “Oh, hell!” Connor clamped both hands to his head.

  “I’ll go get him.” As quickly as she could, Lisa got out of her leg braces, then climbed onto Maverick and set off after Lollipop.

  But the chestnut gelding was already out of sight.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  KARA RODE BESIDE Derrick until they came to a point where the Piney Creek trail crossed a stream and narrowed as it went uphill. She dropped in behind him as they climbed, keeping an eye out for tracks.

  “Look,” Derrick said.

  Kara leaned in the saddle to see past him. Fresh horse manure lay scattered on the trail, tiny gnats buzzing all around.

  “That’s got to be from one of their horses,” Derrick said. “It looks like a couple of riders passed this way.” He indicated hoof prints in the dirt.

  “Probably.” Or it could be some search riders had passed by here, or any horseback riders, but Kara didn’t want to douse Derrick’s hope.

  A few minutes later, the trail widened as it leveled out. To their left lay a ravine; to the right, the mountain sloped gradually downward to meet a small clearing. And across that clearing trotted Lollipop.

  Kara’s heart leaped into her throat. “Oh, God!”

  Derrick had been focused on guiding Choctaw over a fallen log, but at Kara’s words he looked up.

  “Connor!” He nudged Choctaw with his boot heels, hustling the Paint over the log. The gelding’s hooves clipped the wood as he jumped forward. “Connor!” Derrick shouted louder.

  “Take it easy, Derrick. You’re spooking your horse.”

  The words were barely out, when Choctaw side-stepped—too close to the ravine’s edge. Derrick moved to correct him, but the gelding’s hooves slipped, then slid out from under him as the dirt and rock gave way.

  “Derrick!” Kara urged Indio forward, making a grab for Choctaw’s bridle. But her fingers closed on air, and she swallowed a scream as the horse fell backward, rolling and sliding down the side of the mountain like an errant tumbleweed.

  “Oh, Lord!” Kara swung from the saddle.

  She stood, helpless, staring down at Derrick. He’d been thrown as Choctaw fell, and the gelding now rolled past and nearly over him, kicking and thrashing in an effort to regain his footing. The ground dropped at a steep angle for about twelve feet, then leveled out at an old line shack.

  Leafy shrubs partially covered the dilapidated building, and Choctaw tumbled and slammed through them into the weathered, board wall. He lashed out with both rear hooves, striking it with a solid thump, then scrambled to his feet.

  Derrick staggered to his feet as well. “Whoa!” He weaved toward the frightened horse.

  “Derrick, stand back!” Kara shouted. “He’ll run over you!” She started down the hillside, clutching Indio’s reins.

  And then she heard it—an angry, swarming sound. Wasps—yellow jackets—poured out from under the eaves of the line shack, where a paperlike nest hung. Exacting revenge, the wasps swarmed the horse, and Choctaw took off, bucking and snorting.

  Kara pressed against Indio as the gelding lunged back up the mountain, nearly plowing Kara down. In the chaos, she’d forgotten all about Lollipop, trotting their way. Now the two horses joined up and took off hell-bent for leather down the trail toward the stables. Indio struggled to join them, letting out a loud whinny.

  “Easy,” Kara soothed, gripping the reins firmly. “Whoa!”

  Her gaze shot to Derrick. He’d taken off his hat and was swatting frantically at the wasps, at the same time trying to run from them.

  “Derrick, don’t smash them!” Kara shouted. Wasps emitted a chemical alarm pheromone when crushed, signaling fellow wasps to come sting anything and anyone within reach.

  “Damn it!” He swung his hat.

  Too late.

  Kara stood, frozen, as Derrick ran, bellowing. He started up the hillside. They’d passed a stream. Was it deep enough for cover? Kara turned reflexively, and saw Lisa riding up the trail on Maverick.

  “Lisa, stay back!” Kara shouted.

  A wasp landed on her shoulder and she flinched, trying not to panic. Indio snorted and shook her head as wasps buzzed around her. The mare yanked the reins from her grasp, and Kara grabbed the saddlebags just as Indio took off. She felt the sharp pain of a sting.

  “Turn back!” Kara shouted. Lisa halted in confusion. “Go!” Kara waved one arm, then fumbled for the pistol inside the saddlebags.

  By now Derrick had managed to stagger up the hill to the trail. Kara gasped when she saw him. Hives had broken out all over his face and the backs of his hands. Yellow jackets danced around him, dodging the cowboy hat he continued to swing fruitlessly. His breathing was labored, and he began to cough.

  “Kara, get help!” He choked out the words, voice hoarse, then dropped to his knees and threw up.

  Kara pulled out the pistol, aimed it down the mountain at a tree stump near the line shack and fired.

  CONNOR SNAPPED HIS HEAD around at the sound of gunshots, echoing through the valley. Two, then three more. What the hell?

  “Lisa!” he called, his heart slamming against his ribs. He’d never felt so helpless, sitting like the proverbial bump on the damned fallen log, unable to do anything. Why the hell had he been so stupid to ride out here? “Lisa!”

  Dear God, had someone shot at her? Maybe a hunter had mistaken Lollipop for a deer or an elk. But it wasn’t hunting season. Connor’s mouth went dry as he stared into the distance. “Lisa!” he screamed.

  The silence reverberated around him, and the minutes stretched like hours. It seemed forever before he finally heard hoof beats coming his way. But it wasn’t Lisa. It was Melanie and one of her volunteers—George—riding along, leading Lollipop.

  “Connor, are you all right?” Melanie called, urging her horse into a lope.

  “Where’s Lisa?”

  “She’s back at the riding center,” George said.

  “What the heck’s going on?” He didn’t like the looks on their faces. “Is she hurt? Did Maverick throw her?”

  “It’s not Lisa,” Melanie said quietly. “It’s your dad.”

  Connor’s heart all but stopped. “What do you mean? W-was there an accident?”

  “Yellow jackets,” George said, getting down off his horse. “Your dad and Kara were out looking for you kids, and they ran into a nest of ’em. Looks like your dad’s allergic.” He offered Connor a hand.

  “The helicopter’s on it’s way,” Melanie said.

  “On it’s way where?” Connor’s throat closed. And then he heard it—the sound of a chopper in the distance.

  Shit. Oh shit, this was all his fault. If his dad hadn’t come looking for him…

  “Come on,” George said, slipping an arm around Connor’s shoulders. Taking hold of his belt, the old cowboy hefted him to his feet, then swung him up into Lollipop’s saddle. “You okay to ride?”

  “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  Every muscle in his upper body felt like wet spaghetti, but Connor gritted his teeth.

 
Now he knew how his dad felt.

  If anything happened to him, Connor would never forgive himself.

  KARA LAY ON A GURNEY in the emergency room, staring down the nurse who’d made her put on a hospital gown. “I’m fine,” she said for the hundredth time. “I want to see Derrick!”

  “Kara, please sit back.” The nurse—her nametag read Marge—pressed her gently against the pillow as Kara struggled to get up. “We need to make sure you aren’t going to have an allergic reaction of your own. Derrick’s in good hands with Dr. Erickson, I promise.”

  Tears burned Kara’s eyes and spilled down her face as she flopped back against the pillow, angry, frustrated…and terrified. Derrick had looked so still, so…near death, as the medics loaded him into the helicopter. They’d taken her, too, but the entire flight was a blur.

  “Listen to the nurse,” Beth said firmly. She’d been out with the search party, and had rushed to the hospital with Danita and Hannah. “You’ve got to take care of yourself, otherwise you won’t be of help to anyone.”

  Danita stood at the foot of the gurney. “Kara, calm down, mi hija,” she soothed, a worried frown creasing her forehead. “Beth’s right. We have to take care of you, too.” She moved forward to take Kara’s hand once the nurse left the room.

  “What am I going to do?” Kara stared into her best friend’s eyes. “He can’t die, Danita. He just can’t!”

  “Shhh,” Hannah said. “Don’t even think it!”

  “Derrick’s made of tougher stuff than that.” Danita rubbed her shoulder. “I promise.”

  “That’s right.” Beth nodded vehemently. “It’ll take more than a few bees to knock him down.”

  “They were wasps,” Kara said. “And he’s allergic! Damn, I didn’t know—he didn’t even know, apparently.” Her mind raced. “Where’s Connor?”

  “He’s fine,” Danita said. “He’s in the waiting room with his mom and Melanie. And I called Liz—she’s on her way over.”

  Knowing her friends, her family, had pulled together made Kara feel like crying all the more. What would she do without them?

  Worse still, what would she do without Derrick?

  She’d been so afraid to love him, so afraid to cheat on Evan’s memory. And now, Kara realized she’d only cheated herself.

  “I’m going to him.” Kara shoved past her well-meaning friends, not caring that she wore only a flimsy hospital gown. Gripping the back of it closed, she rushed through the emergency room hall in her stocking feet.

  “Miss, what are you doing—?” A nurse hurried toward her.

  “I want to see Derrick Mertz,” Kara said. “Now.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Follow me.” The woman led Kara to another set of exam rooms. “He’s in room three, but you’ll have to wait out here,” the nurse said. “The doctors are working on him.” Her expression was sympathetic.

  “Kara,” Danita said softly behind her, laying her hand on Kara’s shoulder.

  Kara swung around. Behind Danita stood Beth, Hannah…and Liz.

  “Oh, Liz!” Kara reached out to her mother-in-law. “I can’t do this again. I can’t!”

  “I know,” Liz said, folding her into a hug. “It’s going to be all right, Kara.”

  Hurting in a way she’d thought she’d never hurt again, Kara let Liz guide her to a nearby chair.

  “Pull yourself together,” Liz said. “For Connor’s sake. You’re going to scare him if he sees you this way.”

  Kara nodded. “I need to get dressed.”

  “But the nurse…” Beth started. “Oh, what the hell. Come on.”

  She helped Kara to her feet, and hustled her back the way they’d came. Within minutes, Kara was dressed and in the waiting room, where Connor, pale as ice, sat beside his mom with Kevin.

  “Kara.” He wheeled toward her as Shelly rose to her feet. “Where’s my dad? How is he?”

  “He’s still with the doctors.” Kara made a conscious effort to get hold of herself. She laid her hand on Connor’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine,” she said, wishing she believed it.

  “This is all my fault,” Connor said. “Damn it, why did I have to be so stupid?”

  “It’s not your fault.” Kara looked to Shelly for support.

  “I told you that,” Shelly said. “Connor, you’ve got to calm down, son.”

  “I can’t calm down!” He turned on her, tears in his eyes. “My dad’s going to die from some stupid wasp stings, and it’s all because of me. Everything bad happens to him because of me. I wish I’d never been born!”

  “Connor!” Shelly took a step back, hurt.

  Even Kevin stared, openmouthed.

  “Don’t say that,” Kara said, kneeling in front of Connor. “Look at me. Look at me, damn it!” Her blunt words got his attention. “Your dad loves you more than life itself. He would do anything for you, Connor. That’s why he went out looking for you, and that’s why you have to stay strong for him.” Even as she spoke, she realized the truth in her words. “We all have to.”

  She gripped his hands and looked around—at Shelly and Kevin, at her friends—and then she saw a familiar woman walk into the room.

  “Grandma!” Connor said. “You got here fast!”

  “You’d better know it,” Carolyn Mertz said.

  “We were already on our way.”

  Kara looked at the tall, silver-haired cowboy behind Carolyn.

  “Grandpa?” Connor’s jaw dropped.

  Shelly gasped. “Vernon!”

  “Your grandpa finally had a change of heart,” Carolyn said, a humorless laugh escaping her. “We were halfway here when you called my cell phone.”

  “How’s your dad?” Vernon asked, his voice gruff, tight.

  “I don’t know.” Connor looked young and scared, sitting there, gripping his grandmother’s hand.

  Kara couldn’t stop staring at Derrick’s father. He’d taken the first step.

  She only hoped he wasn’t too late.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  DERRICK WOKE UP with the sound of wasps buzzing in his head. His mouth was dry, and his head felt like he’d drank a quart of tequila and swallowed the worm to boot.

  “Welcome back, Mr. Mertz. You gave us quite a scare.”

  He looked up into the smiling face of a nurse with short, dark hair. She checked his IV drip and took his blood pressure. His mind was fuzzy, but he remembered the wasps…Choctaw rearing…

  “Where’s Kara? Is she hurt?” His fuzzy brain began to function. “Where’s my son?”

  “He’s fine—he keeps asking about you—and if Kara is the pretty young woman who came in on the helicopter with you, she’s waiting anxiously. I’ll get her.” She unfastened the Velcro cuff and exited the room.

  Helicopter? Hell. He had no memory of anything past trying to get back up the hillside to Kara.

  A moment later, she came into the room. She looked tired.

  He’d never been more glad to see her.

  “You found Connor—he’s okay?” Derrick asked. “What happened?”

  “He’s fine.” Kara sat in the chair beside his bed, staring anxiously at him. “His horse just got away from him, that’s all. He’s waiting to see you.”

  “So he wasn’t thrown?”

  “No. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. And Lisa’s okay, too?”

  “She sure is.”

  Derrick closed his eyes, sending up a silent prayer of thanks.

  Kara moved to sit on the edge of his bed. She stroked his hair. “God, you scared me!” A tear squeezed out of the corner of her eye. “I thought you were going to die.”

  “That makes two of us,” he said dryly. “I couldn’t breathe.”

  She nodded. “They gave you epinephrine…. You didn’t know you’re allergic to wasp stings?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve never been stung before. I always wear bug spray when I go fishing.” He reached out and brushed the tears from her face. “Hey, no crying. I’m fine.”

  “
Well, you scared the hell out of me,” she said again.

  “Is Danita’s horse all right?”

  “Amazingly enough, yes. Hannah checked him over. He got a couple of stings and a few scrapes, but that’s it.”

  “God, I feel so stupid.”

  “Why? It could’ve happened to anyone. I’m just glad you’re all right.”

  He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss against her fingers. “Me, too. I’d hate to have missed out on seeing you look at me the way you’re looking at me now. Remind me to thank those yellow jackets.”

  “That’s not funny,” Kara said. But she smiled.

  He touched her cheek. Turning her chin, he examined a swollen area on her temple. “Looks like they got you, too.”

  “A little. But I’m fine—” she leaned into his touch, closing her hand over his wrist “—now that I know you’re all right.”

  “So, where’s Connor?”

  “In the waiting room with Shelly and your mom, and half a dozen other people who are worried sick about you.” Her eyes brightened. “As a matter of fact, there’s somebody who’s very anxious to see you. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

  Puzzled, Derrick waited. A moment later, he thought he was hallucinating when his dad walked through the door.

  “Hello, son.”

  “Dad—what are you doing here?” How long had he been unconscious?

  Vernon stood hesitantly at the foot of the bed. “I came to tell you how sorry I am for being such a stubborn old fool.” Though his voice was gruff, he was looking at Derrick affectionately. Affection wasn’t something Derrick had expected from his dad since he was a kid. “Your mom and I had decided to drive down this weekend and surprise you. We were on our way when Shelly called.” He cleared his throat, and a long moment passed before he continued. “When I think that I might’ve been too late…”

  “But you’re not,” said Derrick, gripped by the surrealism of this moment. “It’s good to see you, Dad.”

  “It’s good to see you, too, son.” Vernon moved to the side of the bed and put his hand on Derrick’s shoulder. “You’d better hurry up and get out of this damned hospital. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”