Saving Amy Jayden

by Rose Verde

  Copyright © 2019 by Rose Verde

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Saving Amy Jayden (Cowboys of BlueSong Series)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  LOVING ROYALTY | Chapter One

  Saving Amy Jayden is a work of fiction. All characters and incidents are from the author’s imagination. Any similarities to real people, living or dead, are purely coincidental.

  I’d like to first thank God for giving me the gift of story-telling. Without Him, I can do nothing. Thank you to my husband who encourages me and my kids who are proud of their author mom. Also, a special thanks to Patricia Bell and a couple other great friends who read this book and gave their opinion. Your advice and critiques are greatly appreciated.

  Read More from Rose

  Sneak Peek: Loving Royalty

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  Chapter One

  NEVADA WALKED INTO the kitchen, his Stetson in hand. The ranch housekeeper, Samantha, stood before the giant stove, cooking. The smell of whatever creation she’d come up with this time wafted into Nevada's nostrils, and his stomach rumbled in response.

  He smiled. There was never a dull moment with Sam when it came to throwing things together and making a meal, each new recipe something to savor.

  “You got grease all over yourself.”

  “I was trying to fix the truck, but obviously it’s not what I think it is. Washed the oil filter, but it’s still not working.”

  “You’ll need to call Liam then.”

  “That’s the plan.” He washed his hands at the sink, filled a glass with water, and then turned to her. “How’s your knee? Still swollen?”

  She glanced at the body part in question. “Yes. But the pain killer’s helping.”

  He downed the water. “How about I take you to see the doctor tomorrow?”

  “Nah, I’ll be fine. And thanks for asking.”

  “It’s not every day you have someone you care about their well-being,” he said with a wink.

  “You know what?”

  “What?” he asked.

  “You’d make some young woman happy.”

  He laughed. “That again?”

  “Yeah. And I’ll keep saying it until you believe it. The good Lord made it that way, that we share our lives with someone special. And you will recognize the one when you see her.”

  Nevada wasn't sure about that, but he wasn't about to say so.

  “Go freshen up and take that grease smell out of my kitchen.” Sam’s gruff voice belied her attempt at sternness.

  “On my way.” He gave her a lopsided smile and a kiss on her cheek.

  Sam, widowed and in her early fifties, was like the mother he’d never known. She had helped him fit in quickly, and even though she tried that stern stuff with him, he knew better.

  “I’m famished. I’m gonna clean up quick.”

  Sam nodded

  Pivoting on his heels, he turned to go to his temporary apartment in the loft.

  He didn’t see his boss Anthony around. Nevada stuck his head around the door. “Is Anthony back yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Okay,” Nevada responded, peering at the sky through the window and then at his watch. Almost half past ten. Spring didn’t yet feel like it in Blue Song. The small town was still down to single digit temps at night. “Let me freshen up then.”

  He bounded up the stairs, listening to the sound he made as the wood creaked under his weight.

  Nevada stood in the shower, hand stretched out to the wall as though to brace himself, his eyes closed. Preparation for the calving season was always swamped with this measure of fatigue, yet it all made him feel alive.

  He was doing what he loved and always wanted to do. What he’d lost once—not something he cared to remember—but had the opportunity to do again.

  The water cascaded down his body, easing his muscles. They had issues to deal with, uppermost was the expanse of fence that needed repair. But every day as it ended, Nevada was glad he came to Water Hole Ranch.

  The weather didn't bother him as long as he had a job to do. It was better than his days of despair. Nevada ran a hand backwards over his hair and down his face, then he turned off the tap and stepped out.

  Thirty minutes later, he walked down the stairs and straight into the kitchen. Samantha had the table laid out.

  Taking the stool at the kitchen island, Nevada bowed his head in prayer. He took his fork. “Thank you, Sam.”

  She huffed at him and sat opposite.

  Nevada checked his watch. It was now after eleven. “Anthony’s still not back?”

  “No, not yet,” Sam answered.

  “That's unusual. What's he doing out so late anyway?” His boss was always in the house reading a book in his recliner before the sun went down.

  “He was out fixing that fence on the north while the guys were working on repairing the one on the east. Didn't wanna bother you guys.”

  “He shoulda bothered us. That's a job for three men.” Nevada checked his watch again. “It's after eleven. He should’ve returned by now. I better go check with the men.”

  “He probably just got sidetracked.” Sam turned to him. “You know how he gets. Doesn't like to leave things undone.”

  “Still, he shoulda asked for help.” Forgoing his dinner for a bit, Nevada headed out the door. “I’ll go find him.

  “Thank you, Nevada. I’ll keep your dinner warm,” Sam called.

  Nevada grabbed a jacket on his way out. It was still too cold for spring. Not knowing what to expect, he went with his instinct to drive the truck. He followed the shortest route to the bunkhouse.

  “Angel?” Cutting the engine, Nevada climbed down from the truck.

  No one seemed to have heard him. Bubbly laughter came from inside the log house. A movement beyond the ranch illumination caught his attention.

  “Angel?” he called louder this time; his eyes focused on the movement in the distance.

  He could make out the dark image of a horse. He sighed in relief. The horse emerged into the full light, and his respite vanished. No rider. Angel and the others had heard him and trooped out.

  “Boss, you called?” Angel asked.

  “That’s Dark Knight,” Nevada said, his heart slamming. “Anthony isn’t back yet, and now his horse comes home without him. Get your h
orses. Angel, come with me. We’ll go in the direction the horse came from. The rest of you spread out and search wide. If you find anything, give me a call. Now go! Noah, check on that horse and make sure it's okay.”

  He didn't wait for a response. Nevada jumped back into the truck. The neighing of horses filled the night as they cantered away. Angel climbed in beside him.

  Lord please. Nevada prayed.

  He drove the truck north to where Sam had suggested Anthony was last known to be. They had gone beyond the illumination of the ranch light. Where was Anthony? Could his horse have thrown him? Not likely.

  Thirty minutes into the search and Nevada had yet to receive any call to indicate any of the search party had found him. Nevada brought the truck to a place overlooking the ravine at the edge of the ranch.

  He left the lights on and climbed down from the truck. “Walk down the other way, I’ll cover this side,” he said, his hand pointing southward. “Please, watch your step.”

  Lord, please, was all he could think as he bobbed his flashlight up and down and listened for sound. Minutes and then... He heard a groan, somewhat faint.

  Taking careful steps, he walked in the direction of the sound, his ear attentive. A few feet away, he heard the groan again. He quickened his pace and came upon Anthony. He lay further down the slope against a tree root uprooted by erosion. Whipping out his phone from his pocket, he dialed 9-1-1.

  “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

  Nevada gave rapid-fire information of the situation.

  “Can you please stay on the line? I’m dispatching someone to your location. They should be there in ten minutes.”

  “He doesn’t have the luxury of—”

  “I understand that but, that’s the closest service to the ranch.”

  “Ok, please hurry.”

  “Sure. Stay on the line, all right?”

  “Yes.” Taking one careful step after another, Nevada reached Anthony. He stooped, using his flashlight to assess Anthony and the area. The tangy smell of blood tickled Nevada’s nostrils and he gagged. Anthony’s right leg was at a strange angle. Not good. “Boss!”

  Anthony Jayden grimaced faintly. His shirt was torn across his stomach. A quick check revealed a gash, a broken stick poking out of it. Nevada's heart sank.

  Shrugging out of his jacket, Nevada draped it around him, careful not to jar him. He wasn’t a doctor, but from the measure of blood on the ground, Anthony would be lucky to survive.

  Anthony gestured weakly, like he was trying to say something, but Nevada could see the effort it cost him.

  “Angel!” Nevada hollered into the night. “Over here!” Then he crouched down beside his boss. “Don’t try to say anything,” he told the man that had come to mean so much to him in the last five years.

  Footsteps sounded behind them and then Angel came over and squatted beside Nevada. “How long has he been this way?”

  Angel said, “Hard to tell.”

  Nevada shone the torch on the face of his wristwatch. Barely three minutes. He hated being helpless, knowing that time was ticking for Anthony. Those three minutes didn’t begin to compare with long winter nights hiding somewhere in the subway to avoid being caught. “You’ll be fine,” he whispered, hoping he was right.

  “Try to keep him warm.” The operator’s voice penetrated Nevada’s mind. “The air ambulance will be there in a moment.”

  “Okay.”

  By the time the chump of the helicopter reached his ears, Nevada was covered in a fine sheen of sweat despite the cold.

  The chopper's light flooded the area as it came to land a short distance from them and Nevada had to shield his eyes from the blinding light. He waited until two paramedics reached them before he straightened. A police cruiser pulled up next.

  Raking a hand through his hair, he willed his boss to move, groan, anything to say he was hanging in there. Nothing.

  “Hansen,” the older of the two paramedics introduced himself, talking above the whipping rotor sound. “You have any idea what happened here?”

  “No.” Nevada stepped away and wiped his brow. One of the police officers approached Angel and was asking him questions. Nevada was thankful they weren’t talking to him. His thoughts were for Anthony.

  Hansen slipped a neck collar on Anthony and within minutes, they had his leg immobilized, rolls of bandage applied around his torso, the stick still in place.

  The younger man tied a cuff around Anthony’s arm. They rattled some medical jargon. The phrase “slipped into unconsciousness” jumped out to Nevada. Not what he wanted to hear.

  They worked deftly for a few minutes.

  “We need to get him up, and then we can put an intravenous line in place.”

  “Okay. But, how is he?”

  “Barely stable. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

  Nevada glanced at Angel. The same fear Nevada was sure reflected in his eyes shone in Angel’s.

  Seconds later, they lifted Anthony and walked gently but quickly out of the ravine.

  Nevada glanced briefly at the policemen cordoning off the area. He rubbed the back of his neck, turning to the paramedics. “Can I come with him?”

  “You can come behind us. We’ll set up the lines en-route.”

  Nevada snatched a glance at his boss and willed him to hang in there.

  Angel was already calling Daniel to inform him, but they must’ve heard the air ambulance, because four of them showed up as the ambulance pulled up into the air.

  “Daniel, get to the ranch house, tell Sam there’s been an accident. We’re heading out to the hospital,” Nevada instructed.

  “Sure.”

  Nevada climbed into the truck, Angel following suit. Nevada slipped the key into the ignition and missed.

  “Are you sure you can drive?”

  “Yes.” He wiped a shaky hand on his jeans and tried again. The engine roared to life, and he pulled out.

  Fifteen minutes later, he drove into the parking lot of the hospital and brought the truck to a halt. Leaving the door open, he ran for the reception area. The nurse informed him that Anthony was already in the ER.

  Everything seemed to be moving at dizzying speed. Another nurse came towards them. “Are you here for the patient that was just brought in?”

  “Yes.”

  “We need someone to sign the papers. Are you his son?”

  “No, I’m his foreman. Can I sign on his behalf?”

  “Does he not have any family?”

  “His daughter lives in LA.”

  “Wife?”

  “Passed, a couple of years ago.”

  “All right, come along.”

  Chapter Two

  AMY JAYDEN SLIPPED off her six-inch stilettos, her feet sighing in relief. The clock chimed twelve as she padded across the polished wooden floor of her condo. Her friend and roommate, Mel, followed behind stepping out of her loafers.

  “Eric definitely pulled out all stops for this party. He may still be nursing hopes that you’ll go out with him.” Mel’s brown eyes that matched her honey colored tresses danced with amusement.

  Amy rolled her eyes. “He was hoping I’d hang out with him longer. As if midnight wasn’t ungodly enough. He's dreaming.”

  “Don't think so.” Mel gave an exaggerated sigh. “I was afraid he'd put you in the hospital out there with you dancing in those insensible shoes of yours.”

  Flipping on the light, Amy said, “You know me. Anything less feels like I'm not wearing shoes.”

  Mel laughed, and Amy joined in.

  “I can see you still wearing those things fifty years down the road.”

  Mel walked on tiptoe like someone tethering close to a precipice. The dramatic depiction only made Amy laugh harder.

  They both dumped their bags on the dresser. Mel dropped onto the bed. “If anyone deserves to be manager, it’s you, my friend and I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks. It’s all I’ve lived for.”

  “Mm-hmm. But it’s going to
mean more work, no life.”

  “You mind explaining what you mean, mate?” Amy said in a fake British accent.

  It was her friend’s turn to roll her eyes. “You’ve worked so hard all your life, not even a boyfriend to call your own. Now you’ve become manager, I fear for you my dear.”

  “I don’t have time for love. I’ve got all I ever wanted in life.”

  “I know that’s what you say, but it must get lonely without someone to share your life with.”

  “Nope. Not really.”

  “Okay then.” She crinkled her nose. “Well, I should call Jay. He's still mad that I cancelled our dinner for your party.”

  Amy stepped into the bathroom. “I’ll bribe him. Besides, you should tell him we knew each other before you met him.” She winked. Mel was already dialing. “I’m going to brush my teeth.”

  “Come and talk to him,” Mel said.

  “He's not my boyfriend. He's yours.”

  “You could get one.” Mel stopped abruptly, then she laughed at something Jay said. “It's Amy. She needs a boyfriend.” Mel gave her a sheepish grin.

  Amy closed the bathroom door. Something pinged in the region of her chest. She wasn't jealous, right? No way, no how. Love made people vulnerable.

  Something she never wanted to be.

  “COFFEE.” ANGEL PLUNKED into the metal seat in the waiting room. His sandy blond hair looked like he’d plowed his hands through it over and over.

  Nevada was sure his didn’t look any better.

  At three am, the hospital was quiet, amplifying the beeping machines that seemed to strum his nerves like guitar strings. He hated the clash of cloying smells he couldn’t decipher. “Thanks.”

  His tummy rumbled. He’d skipped dinner. Nevada took the steaming Styrofoam cup from Angel. He sat up straighter. “You need to go home and rest.”

  “I’m okay. Besides, I couldn’t possibly leave you alone here.”

  “Don’t worry about me. The doctor told me it’s going to be an extensive surgery. We’ve been here for hours and haven’t heard anything. There’s no point in both of us keeping vigil. Besides there’s a lot of work to be done, I’ll want you to take charge at the ranch while I’m here.”