Read The Cowbear's Christmas Bride (Curvy Bear Ranch 4) Online
Authors: Liv Brywood
Tags: #BBW, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Fiction, #Holiday, #Paranormal, #Bear Shifter, #Claimed, #Mate, #Adult, #Erotic, #Christmas, #Mistletoe, #Snowy Winter, #Seasonal, #Human, #Suspense, #Short Story, #Supernatural, #Bachelor, #Single Woman, #Action & Adventure, #Curvy Bear Ranch, #Series, #Montana Ranch, #Shifter Secret, #Orphanage, #Abandoned, #Central Park, #Heritage, #West Yellowstone, #Cowboy, #B&B, #Dangerous Encounter, #Protection
During the entire ride to Trevor’s cabin, Carol couldn’t stop thinking about fated mates. Could that actually be true? Over the last few days, she felt a stronger connection to her bear than ever before, maybe because she was finally acknowledging the poor creature. How terrible to go through life being ignored. Carol knew how much that hurt, so she vowed to find a way to make it up to her bear.
She glanced at Hank. Lying in his arms last night, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to wake up to him every morning. Was there a way she could pack up her old life and move to Montana? Before she would even think about doing that, she’d have to know for sure that he wanted her to move.
When he’d talked about fated mates, she loved how romantic it all sounded. But how would she know if it were true? It seemed like something that would hit her in the gut. Had Hank impacted her so much that they were fated to be together?
As the cabin came into view, she pushed the thoughts aside. She’d still be in Montana for a few more days. She’d planned on leaving on Christmas Eve, but maybe they could extend her reservation.
“Trevor shouldn’t be here,” Hank said. “But I want to check things out before you get out of the truck, okay?”
“Okay.”
By now, she knew better than to argue with him about matters of safety. He was super protective, which normally would have sent up a bunch of red flags, but his intent was clear—he wanted to keep her away from harm.
She squirmed in the seat as she watched Hank walk up to the front door. Flashes of his hot, sweaty, ripped, naked body flickered across her mind like a silent film. He was so aggressive and yet sensual in bed, a combination she’d never experienced with the few boyfriends she’d had. She could definitely get used to his sexy, dirty talk.
After climbing the steps, Hank pushed open the front door to the cabin. How odd. Why wasn’t it locked?
She sat up straighter, waiting for his signal. A vise-like band of fear ensnared her belly. What if Trevor already made bail? What if he’d come back already? What if he’d done something to her mom?
Hank reappeared and waved frantically. She leapt out of the truck and ran up the porch steps. As she entered the house, she gasped. The place looked like it had been hit by a hurricane. Tables lay on their sides. Chairs with shattered legs were heaped up in one corner of the room. And there was blood, lots of it.
“Mom?” she screamed.
She scurried after him into the bedroom at the rear of the house. When they burst into the room, Hank cursed. Her mom was draped across the bed. Sticky, coagulated blood seeped out from a huge gash on the back of her head.
“Oh God, is she?” Carol placed her hand over her heart in an attempt to calm it. The pounding beat of it against her ribcage was too much to bear.
Hank hurried over to her mom and placed two fingers on her neck.
“She’s still alive. We need to get her to a hospital right now. She needs medevac,” he said.
“But there’s no phone and our cell phones don’t work here.”
“We need to carry her to the truck and drive her to West Yellowstone. Wait here, I’m going to see if I can find something to help stabilize her neck.” He rushed out of the room.
Her knees knocked together as she approached her mom. At first, she couldn’t even see her breathing, but as she drew closer, Carol spotted a faint rise and fall in her chest. She was alive… but for how long?
Hank rushed back into the room carrying a piece of plywood and some curtain ties.
“This is far from ideal, but it’s all we have,” he said. “Help me get her on the board.”
After carefully positioning her mom, they wrapped ties around her torso to keep her somewhat secure.
“Normally I would never, ever move someone this injured, but if we don’t move her now…” His voice faded.
“I know.”
“I’ll carry her, you get the door,” he said.
Once they’d secured her inside the truck, Carol held her mom’s hand. She tried to convey all the love in her heart and for the first time in a long time, she prayed.
As soon as they reached West Yellowstone, he turned toward the sheriff’s department. He tore into the parking lot and parked sideways in front of the entrance.
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back,” he said.
He dashed into the sheriff’s office. A minute later, he returned with Sheriff Tanner and the young woman from the front desk.
“Jesus,” Sheriff Tanner said. “Trudy, get a medevac chopper up here.”
Trudy raced back into the office.
“What happened?” Tanner asked.
“We don’t know. I thought you said Trevor would be locked up for the night,” Hank said.
“He’s been in lockup since I picked him up. He’s still there.”
“What about last night? Did you check on my mom when you were there?” Carol asked, unable to keep the accusation out of her tone.
“She wasn’t at the house last night. I went up there, searched, and didn’t find her,” Tanner said.
“How could she possibly hide in a tiny cabin?” Carol asked.
“I don’t know, but I swear I looked everywhere.”
“What about the shed out back?” Hank asked.
“What shed?” Tanner asked.
“Jesus Christ, Tanner. She was probably hiding in the damn shed,” Hank said.
“It was snowing and dark. I didn’t see a shed. I’m sorry.”
Carol’s stomach dropped. How long had her mom been like this? Would she even be able to recover? If she had a concussion, she might have brain damage.
The whip of helicopter blades through the air drew their attention. Carol placed a hand up to block the sun as she stared at the incoming chopper. At least they’d arrived quickly.
Two medics jumped out even before it fully landed. Heads down, they ran toward the truck.
“What do we have?” the medic asked.
“Female, early fifties, blow to the head. We’re not sure how long she’s been unconscious,” Tanner said.
The second medic slapped a blood pressure cuff on her mom’s arm and started pumping it. He clipped something onto her finger.
“Pulse ox, eighty-seven. BP eighty-five over fifty. We need to move her now. Get a backboard,” the second medic yelled.
The first medic returned with a long, plastic board. They carefully moved her off of the makeshift splint, and after securing her, took off toward the helicopter.
“Where are you taking her?” Hank yelled.
“Bozeman.”
“Can I go with you?” Carol asked.
“No, ma’am. There’s not enough room. We’ll make sure the hospital calls you with an update,” the second medic said.
“We’ll leave now,” Hank said. “We can be there in a couple of hours.”
She nodded, unable to talk over the lump in her throat.
“Do you need a police escort?” Tanner asked.
“No,” Hank said.
“Drive carefully. The roads are hell after last night’s storm,” Tanner said.
“We will.”
Carol grabbed Hank’s hand and dragged him toward the truck. He jogged alongside her. They split to jump in the cab. After locking their seat belts, he hit the gas. The truck fishtailed out of the parking lot.
“Shit,” Hank said. “Tanner was right. The road’s slick as hell.”
“Just get us there in one piece.”
“She’ll get there soon. The doctors will be able to help her immediately. I’m sure they’ll have an update by the time we arrive,” Hank said.
Carol scooted closer and rested her hand on his leg. She didn’t want him to take his hands off of the wheel, but she needed to touch him. The close proximity calmed her enough that she could breathe normally again.
“Do you think she’ll live?” she asked in a broken voice.
“She’ll have the best doctors in the area working on her.”
She knew he couldn’t promise anything, but she wished he could say that her mom would be all right. If she died now, Carol’s heart would shatter into a million pieces and nothing could put it back together again.
***
The drive to Bozeman took two hours. By the time they arrived, Hank’s hands were cramped from gripping the wheel so hard. He glanced at Carol, who had sat pressed up against him the entire trip. She clutched the fabric of his jeans so hard that when she finally released it, a small patch was still stretched out.
As soon as he parked, Carol jumped out of the car and ran over to him. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed until his ribs hurt. He returned the hug, knowing that she needed the comfort of human touch as much as he did.
Guilt ate at him the entire trip. If only he’d gone back last night to get her. If only he’d insisted she come with them. Sure, she’d had a shotgun pointed at his head, but still. He should have found a way.
“Let’s go find her.” Carol released him and wiped tears from her cheeks.
“Okay, honey.”
Inside the hospital, they followed signs to the ER. Hank approached the intake desk.
“We’re looking for Victoria Fuller. She was brought in a couple of hours ago by medevac.”
“What’s your relationship to the patient?” The lady squinted at him through thick glasses.
“She’s my mom,” Carol said.
“Who’s he?” the lady asked.
“My husband,” Carol replied.
Hank’s eyes went wide for a moment before he recovered. The intake lady glared at him as if he’d been the one to beat Vicki up.
“Through those doors, room eight on the left,” she said.
He grabbed Carol’s hand and walked toward the set of double doors. A buzzer sounded, then the doors swung open. He hurried down the sterile, white hall. The even-numbered rooms were on the left, the odd on the right. He found room eight and took a deep breath.
Since he didn’t know what he was going to find, he ushered Carol in ahead of him in case he needed to catch her. When they walked into the room, Carol squeaked out a strangled cry. The hospital bed lay empty.
“Oh God, she’s dead,” Carol shrieked.
“Wait, honey. We might just be in the wrong room.”
A nurse burst into the room. “What are you two doing in here?”
“Looking for Victoria Fuller,” Hank replied.
“She’s in the OR. Won’t be back for a few hours,” the nurse replied in a curt tone.
“What are they operating on?” Hank asked.
“Broken arm. Cracked pelvis. Broken ribs. The orthopedic surgeon will be out to give you an update soon. She got damn lucky one of her ribs didn’t puncture a lung. What the hell happened to her?”
“Her boyfriend,” Hank said through clenched teeth.
“I can’t understand why these women don’t just walk away.” The nurse sighed heavily. “I know a lot of them have no one else, but there are women’s shelters, domestic violence programs.”
“My guess is that they’ve been too beat down psychologically and don’t know how to leave the life they know,” Hank said.
“I guess. All I know is that the day a man hits me is the day I leave. No second chances. No man should ever hit a woman,” the nurse said.
“Agreed,” Hank said.
“The OR waiting room’s just down the hall. Can I get you two anything? Have you eaten?” she asked.
“Nothing since a quick breakfast,” Carol said.
“I’ll bring you some sandwiches. We have a bunch in the fridge for patients, but I’ve given them to family too. You can’t get caught up in all the damn rules all the time. These administrators… anyway, I’ll be back.”
Hank held Carol’s hand as they moved toward the waiting room. The small room contained several couches, a table with multiple chairs, and a huge flat screen TV. He chose the couch farthest from the TV and sat. He pulled Carol into his lap and held her tightly.
“I can’t stand not knowing what’s going on in there,” Carol said.
“I know. Trust me, if I could bust into that OR to get an update, I would.”
“Sorry about the husband thing. That lady at the front desk had such a bitchy vibe. I didn’t want her to find an excuse to keep you out.”
“I don’t mind,” he said. “I kind of liked the sound of it.”
“You did?” She leaned back and looked at him.
“I did.” More than he wanted to admit right now, especially in a hospital waiting room. Now wasn’t the time or the place to tell her how he really felt. There would be time for that later, he was sure of it.
Minutes turned into hours. Hank picked at the crumbs in the now-empty sandwich wrappers. He could have eaten another three, but didn’t want to bother the nurse. She’d already been generous enough.
The door opened and a doctor wearing a long white coat entered the room.
“Are you Victoria Fuller’s family?” he asked.
“Yes.” Carol sat up and brushed her hair out of her eyes.
“She’s suffering from several different injuries. We set her arm and wrapped her ribs. Her pelvis had several hairline fractures. We removed a few shattered bone fragments laparoscopically, but fortunately, she didn’t need more invasive surgery. That said, the injury to her pelvis is going to take a long time to heal.”