Accidental Cowgirl (8 page)

“You tired?” Cole asked.

“Mmm.”

Cole turned to the group. “What do you think, docs? Does he have a concussion?”

“He sure looks like it,” Maureen offered.

Cole nodded. “Yep. He’s nauseous, he’s tired, and his head hurts. And he’s disoriented enough not to notice I’m not even using his right name. Those are all pretty strong signs.” He scanned the circle of guests again, but this time, everyone was paying attention. “I want to assure you we’ve never had a guest experience anything like this, but head injuries are serious business. You see someone take a good bonk to the head, you start asking questions.
What’s your name? What happened? Where are you? Who’s your sister? Who’s the president?
That sort of stuff. If they’re falling asleep, vomiting, or if they can’t answer those basic questions, off to the hospital they go.”

“Off you go, Fred.” Hayley motioned Jimmy away. He scowled playfully at her, then took a few steps backward so the group could concentrate on Pete’s injuries.

An hour later, they’d practiced bandaging a sprain, splinting an arm, and doing a couple of carries in case anyone had to be bodily transported out of the woods. Good Lord. Who knew there were so many ways they might hurt themselves? That new spa was looking better and better.

Cole gathered them back on their logs and started wrapping up the splints. “Now, we’ve never had anyone need more than a Band-Aid on the trail, but it’s always better to be overprepared. We carry good medical supplies, and Decker and I are both EMT-certified, so you’re in good hands. It’s still important to pay attention and not do anything stu—” Cole sent a curious glance toward the stable, where Pete and Jimmy were stumbling out. “What the—”

Kyla’s eyes followed his, but she could only see Pete’s and Jimmy’s torsos over the other guests’ heads. Jimmy called out, “We got a surprise for you, boss! How ya gonna fix
this
injury?” Kyla swallowed hard as they got close and she caught a glimpse of Pete’s leg, which was streaming with fake blood. As Jimmy laid Pete down just inside the circle of logs, Kyla’s head started to prickle. Somehow the ranch hands had fashioned a fake bone to stick out of Pete’s jeans, and ketchup-blood was dripping everywhere.

She saw Decker’s dark expression a millisecond before the prickles turned to an icy sensation that enveloped her head, top to bottom. Oh, no. Something about this scene was triggering her subconscious mind to panic. Dammit. This was
not
happening here.

She tried to close her eyes and concentrate on her breathing, but as soon as she did so, it just made her hyperaware that she was breathing way too fast and shallow. Her shoulders suddenly felt very heavy, and her arms felt like they were stuck in mud.

Oh, God. She was having a panic attack. Had she seen something like this at the accident? It made her ill to even wonder. Hayley and Jess had gone in to help Ma get lunch ready, so they were too far away to call to. She couldn’t seem to figure out how to use her voice anyway. All she could think was that she needed to get out of here. Now. She just had to make her legs cooperate, and stop breathing so damn fast.

As everyone closed around Pete, she opened her eyes and tried to take a deep breath, but it didn’t work. Maybe it really was a heart attack this time. She could feel her heart beating in her chest, and could hear it pounding in her ears. Her breath felt cold on her upper lip, and she wished she could lift what felt like iron bricks from her chest. Logic told her the feelings would pass, but the illogical part of her brain was pretty convinced she was losing her freakin’ mind.

She tried to stand up, but her legs had turned to oatmeal. She stumbled back toward the log, but miscalculated and hit it with her ankles. The air hummed and buzzed around her head, and as she fell backward, the branches and sky above her were all mottled like she was looking through a kaleidoscope. Her last thought was that her head was really going to hurt when it
landed on the log.

* * *

“Kyla. Kyla, wake up, honey.” A deep voice reached past the fog in her brain, but it was a stranger’s voice. She couldn’t answer. She became aware of shuffling sounds, felt hands on her arm, voices around her.

Two warm hands cupped her face, thumbs stroking the skin under her eyes. “Kyla, wake up or I’m gonna put you back on Kismet and send her running.”

She squinted her eyes open and met two piercing blue ones. Decker. What was going on? Why was she lying on the ground? Why was Decker looking at her like she was two steps from the loony bin? She tore her eyes from his when she felt someone lift her left hand. Cole had his fingers around her wrist, looking at his watch and counting silently.

Her brain was foggy and she knew she needed to get up, but she couldn’t get her body to agree with her. When Cole let go of her wrist, she tried to get her elbows under her to hoist herself up, but they weren’t working. Good Lord, had she had a stroke?

“Kyla, look at me.” Decker’s hands were on her face again. She obeyed his command because it was somehow comforting to have someone tell her what to do. “We’re going to get up now. I’m going to help you.” He started to lift her. Kyla fumbled for his hand as she tried to make her body cooperate. His hand closed around hers, and she held on for dear life.

As she finally stood, Decker steadied her shoulders, pulling her close to his body. “We’re going to take a walk and get rid of some of this adrenaline, okay?” Kyla nodded as he stepped forward, his arm steady around her back. Her feet felt like she’d tied full paint cans to them, and she fought not to stumble as Decker led her across the lawn.

After an excruciatingly slow trip around the house, Kyla’s fog started to lift. Oh, holy hell. She’d had an honest-to-goodness, no-holds-barred, full-fledged freakin’ panic attack. Again. In front of a whole herd of strangers. Again. In front of Decker, who was now guiding her over the lawn like a mental patient. Who was so warm, so strong, so steady that she wanted to stay forever in this position.

She stopped walking, and Decker loosened his grip as he peered down into her eyes. “How we doing, honey?” His voice was so tender. But he was an EMT. He was trained to talk
like this. It meant nothing. He probably called everybody
honey
.

“I’m okay.” Kyla took a deep breath. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

Decker came around to face her, placing his hands on her biceps. “Don’t apologize, Kyla. You can’t control a panic attack.”

“How’d you know?”

“I’m an EMT, remember?” He winked, and she was struck by the fact that he was so matter-of-fact about it. She’d felt like nutter-of-the-month since the attacks had started, but here he was just helping her walk off the adrenaline, not looking at her like maybe it was time to call the white-coated men and have her carted away.

She sighed. “I made a complete scene. I’m really sorry. I didn’t see it coming.”

He leveled her with a look, but didn’t say another word for a moment. Then he put his arm back around her shoulder. “Come on. Let me show you something.”

As much as she wanted to say
I can walk by myself
or
I’m fine—you can go
or anything of the like, the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth. The only thing she wanted right now was to nestle her body against his as he guided her down the path past the barns. He was just tall enough, just strong enough, just warm enough to make her feel safe. And though the last thing she wanted was to be dependent on anyone else, she couldn’t help but lean into him as he pulled her closer.

The panic attack was actually completely logical, from a medical point of view. This desire, this
need
to be near Decker right now?

Completely illogical.

Five minutes later, Decker dropped his arm from her shoulder and instead took her hand firmly in his as he veered off the cabin pathway. He led her down a grassy slope into the pine forest that sat below the barns. The hill sloped mildly through the pines, and the pine needles silenced her shaky footsteps as she followed him toward the sound of bubbling water.

It took only a couple of minutes to reach the brook, which meandered along a rocky path down the hillside. She imagined it was no more than a trickle by the end of September, but that was a good six weeks away, and right now it burbled over the stones, heading through the forest out of sight.

“Want to sit for a little while?” Decker asked softly, letting go of her hand.

Kyla lowered herself gingerly to watch the water. Her legs were still shaky and her head
still felt a bit prickly, but it was better. “I really am sorry.”

Decker crouched down beside her, looking at the brook. “You can stop apologizing. And just so you know, that wasn’t supposed to happen. I have no idea what those idiots were thinking.” He tossed a twig into the water.

“It wasn’t their fault. Not really.”

“Maybe not, but it
was
ridiculous. Obviously we need to find more for them to do, if this is the kind of crap they come up with when they’re bored.”

“I’m sure they thought they were being funny. They had no way of knowing they’d send someone flipping backward over a log.” Kyla rubbed the back of her head, wincing.

“Well, it won’t happen again, I assure you.”

Kyla wished she could assure
him
of the same. But she couldn’t. She hadn’t felt the panic attack coming in time to get away from the crowd, not this time, and not the other day in court. By the time she’d realized what was happening, her limbs had been too heavy to cooperate and help her escape.

“Kyla—” he started.

“Hey, sweetie, are you okay?” Jess appeared out of nowhere and folded herself down on Kyla’s other side. Kyla forced her eyes away from Decker to turn to Jess.

“I’m fine, Jess. Just had to get away from the amputation up there.” Kyla drilled her eyes at Jess, begging her not to ask more questions.

Decker eased up from his crouch, and Kyla fought the urge to pull him back down with her. What was
wrong
with her? “Looks like reinforcements are here. I guess I’ll, uh, head back up and roll some heads, if that’s okay with you. You think you’re going to be okay?”

“Fine. Yes, I’ll be fine.” She nodded, but knew her voice wasn’t very convincing.

He reached out like he was going to touch her, but pulled back. “I highly recommend sitting by the brook for a while, though. Whisper Creek water is good medicine, Ma always says.”

Kyla nodded again, slowly. “Thanks, Decker. For, well, for everything.”

He put two fingers on his Stetson in an old-fashioned salute, then turned to head back up the hill. As much as Kyla was grateful for Jess coming to check on her, she wondered what Decker had been about to say. She twisted her hands together thoughtfully as she watched the water flow over tiny boulders, remembering the feel of her hand in his warm, strong one.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Jess rubbed her shoulder. “Panic attack?”

Kyla nodded miserably, and to her chagrin, tears prickled her eyes again. “Dammit, Jess. Am I ever going to get better? Wasn’t it just last night that I was saying I was done with this? Ready to move on?”

“Oh, sweetie.” Jess put her arm around Kyla’s shoulder. “You
are
getting better. You know you are. These things are unpredictable, especially when you get a lovely blood-and-gore surprise. Seriously, what was the point of that?”

Kyla shook her head. “I have no flippin’ idea. Idiots with ketchup.”

“I’m so sorry we were inside.” Jess squeezed Kyla’s shoulder. “Sweetie, I know you don’t want to hear this, but you look awful. Really awful. Do you think maybe you could sleep if you lie down?”

Kyla groaned. “Jessie, I’m working on my brave face, but right now I’m too afraid to sleep. If I sleep, I might dream. And you know where that gets me.”

Jess ran her hands through the pine needles at her feet, drawing squiggles in the sand. “I thought the nightmares would be fading by now.”

“I know. But they haven’t yet. And in every single one, Gramps is calling to me to save him, but I don’t. Sometimes he’s standing on a cliff, sometimes he’s falling out of a plane. It’s terrifying.”

“They’re just nightmares, sweetie. They’re not real.”

“But Jessie, I never save him. Never. What does that say about me?”

Jess picked up a twig and started breaking it into little pieces, tossing them into the water one by one. “It says that you’re killing yourself with guilt, that’s what. Kyla, you have to stop blaming yourself. You had no way of knowing what Wes was up to. He was a master manipulator. This was the work of someone who bilked a whole
herd
of people out of millions of dollars. As much as it hurts to admit, you were just one of many who fell for it. He had serious skills. You have
got
to stop blaming yourself.”

Jess squeezed her shoulder. “You can’t turn back time, honey. Your grandparents saw you lose everything, too. They fell for Wes’s spiel just as hard as you did. Would they have met him without you introducing them? Probably not. You’re right. But could they have met someone just like him and had the same thing happen? You never know.”

“No, they never would have invested that kind of money with a stranger. No way. They
did it because I trusted Wes, and they trusted me.” Kyla shook her head. “This is why I have nightmares.”

Decker finished his teleconference with the California office, then sat back in his dad’s big black office chair. It was a good thing he had a partner and a sharpshooter intern out in L.A., or he’d never have been able to come out to Montana for the summer. So far they were holding down the fort just fine, as long as he was only a phone call away. Couldn’t last forever, though.

He swiveled his chair around to look out the huge bay window behind him. This side of the house faced the barn and paddocks, and the guest cabins beyond. The ranch’s land stretched farther than he could possibly see, and the view from any room in the house could be on a drugstore postcard.

Lodge
, he corrected himself. Now that they were a ranch with paying guests, the house had to be called a lodge.