The Cowboy (41 page)

Too late. She’d realized the depth of her feelings for
Trace far too late. She should have told him how she felt long ago. Eleven years ago.

Luke reached for Trace’s shoulder and pulled him onto his back—revealing Hannah beneath him.

“Hannah!” Callie cried.

Her daughter’s eyes flickered open. “Mommy,” Hannah wailed. “Mommy!”

Callie pulled her daughter into her arms and clutched her tight, smoothing her tangled, singed curls away from her soot-covered face, reassuring herself that she wasn’t dreaming.

“Trace doesn’t look too good,” Luke said. “We better get him to a hospital.”

“I’ll take Hannah to Sam and be right back to help you,” Callie said, struggling to her feet with her daughter in her arms.

“Is Trace gonna be all right?” Hannah asked as Callie jogged toward the van.

Callie forced words past the lump in her throat. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, sweetheart.” She resisted the urge to ask what had happened. She didn’t want Hannah to have to relive what must have been a terrifying experience.

“Trace saved me from the fire,” Hannah blurted. “Blackie threw me off and ran away and I was scared and then Trace came and found me but the fire was all around me.”

Callie shuddered. That explained her daughter’s singed hair and Trace’s singed eyebrows. “You’re safe now, baby. That’s all that matters.”

Hannah put her hand on Callie’s cheek and said, “Trace said he loves me and he loves Eli and he loves you.
He promised he’ll be my daddy and love me forever and ever.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Callie crushed her daughter against her, hiding her face against Hannah’s neck so her daughter wouldn’t see the tears spurting from her eyes. What if there was no forever?

She yanked open the passenger door to the van and buckled Hannah into the seat next to Sam. “Will you take her to the hospital and make sure they check her out? We’ll be right behind you with Trace.”

“I’ll meet you at the hospital,” Sam said, as Callie shut the door.

“Thank you, Sam,” Callie said through the open window. A look of understanding passed between them. Her brother was no longer a burden but another member of the family willing to carry his share of the load.

By the time Callie got back to the pond, Luke had already lifted Trace upright. He still showed no signs of regaining consciousness.

“I’ll take his shoulders. You take his feet,” Callie said.

“He probably just breathed too much smoke,” Luke said. “They can probably give him some oxygen or something at the hospital and he’ll probably be fine.”

Callie didn’t contradict Luke. “Probably,” she agreed, using the adjective he favored. She hoped he was right. But the icy shiver that ran up her spine confirmed her fear that he was wrong.

“Do you mind driving?” she asked her brother as they loaded Trace into the bed of her pickup. “I want to stay in back with Trace.”

“No problem,” Luke said.

As Callie held Trace’s head tenderly in her arms, she
wondered if she ought to be doing some kind of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. But when she bent her head down, she could feel his faint breath on her cheek. Maybe Luke was right. Maybe all he needed was a little oxygen at the hospital and he’d be fine.

She touched his singed eyebrows, shivering when she thought of the risk he’d taken to save her daughter, knowing how close he must have been to the fire. She marveled that he’d managed to find Hannah, and that he’d figured out a way to keep her daughter safe from the suffocating smoke.

“I love you, Trace,” she murmured in his ear.

He didn’t seem to hear her. His eyes remained closed, his breathing faint and shallow.

“Please, Trace. Live.”

Trace disappeared into the emergency room as soon as they got to the hospital. There was no question of filling out insurance forms for Trace Blackthorne, no question of deposits to ensure payment of his bill when he checked out.

“Has Mr. Blackthorne been notified that his son was injured?” the nurse asked Callie.

“Uh. No,” she replied.

“I’ll take care of that,” the nurse promised.

Callie wanted to ask the woman not to call Blackjack, but she wasn’t sure how serious Trace’s injuries were. What if he was dying? Trace would want his family with him. Even if they were Blackthornes.

Hannah had already been examined before they arrived and deemed not to be any the worse for wear—except for a few singed hairs. Sam and Luke had taken her home, while Callie waited at the hospital for news of Trace.

“Mrs. Blackthorne?”

Callie didn’t realize at first who the doctor was addressing. Then she remembered she’d told the hospital she was Trace’s wife to ensure she’d be kept informed of his condition. “Yes,” she said, rising from her chair. “What is it, doctor? Is Trace all right?”

“The few burns he has are superficial, but he seems to have breathed a great deal of smoke,” the doctor said.

Callie waited for an explanation. The doctor cleared his throat and continued.

“We’re not sure yet of the extent of the damage to your husband’s lungs. There’s some upper airway edema, but I don’t see the need yet to intubate him. We’ll know more over the next twenty-four hours. He regained consciousness—”

“He’s awake?” Callie interrupted, unable to contain her excitement.

“He was awake, but we’ve sedated him and moved him to a private room where he can be watched for signs of difficulty breathing.”

“I want to stay with him,” Callie said.

“He won’t know you’re there,” the doctor said in a gentle voice.

“I want to stay with him,” she repeated.

“Very well. The nurse can tell you which room he’s in.”

Callie followed the nurse to Trace’s room and sank into the chair beside his bed. It was soothing to hear the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. Trace was alive. He’d regained consciousness, if only briefly. Callie knew he’d get well. Nothing could go wrong now. It just couldn’t.
Because if he survived—and if he still wanted her—she had made up her mind to go with him to Australia.

“How is he?”

Callie was startled by the sound of Blackjack’s voice, when she hadn’t heard the door opening or closing. “He’s been sedated,” she replied. “They don’t know yet how bad the damage is to his lungs.”

Blackjack exhaled as he sank back against the closed door.

Callie noticed the deep lines in his forehead, the creases on either side of his mouth, the gray pallor of his skin. “Are you all right?”

He patted a hand against his heart. “I just got a little scare when the call came. That’s all.” He straightened and crossed to Trace’s bedside. He put a hand out to touch his son’s cheek.

Callie found it difficult to watch the tender gesture. It made Blackjack seem human, when he’d been the bogeyman all her life.

“Are you going to stay here when he leaves for Australia?” Blackjack asked.

Callie was surprised by the question. Confused about what to say. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

He lifted his brow. “We’re talking about my son. That makes it my business. And, of course, I’m always interested in anything that might hurt Three Oaks.”

Callie felt her blood chill. “Why are you saying something you know will make me want to stay here? Don’t you want your son to be happy?”

“I don’t want my son to go at all,” Blackjack replied.

“You’re wrong if you think he’ll stay here in Texas on
my account,” Callie said. “Trace has already made it clear he’s going back home to Australia.”

She’d used the word
home
on purpose, to hurt Blackjack, but a flicker of annoyance was the only response she got.

“I think you underestimate your hold on my son,” Blackjack said. “If you stick to your guns, he’ll come around.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” Callie said. “I think you ought to know that even if I decide to go with him, you won’t have an easy time getting your hands on Three Oaks.”

“It was clever of you to get Trace to pay the inheritance taxes,” Blackjack conceded. “And it was a good move to get him to split the winnings from the Futurity. But that barely gets Three Oaks out of the red.”

Callie smiled. “But we are, in fact, out of the red. And now that my brother Sam is back in the saddle, so to speak, things will run more smoothly and efficiently.”

“If you say so.”

“And my mother—”

“Yes. About your mother.”

Callie’s chin came up. “What about her?”

“I heard a rumor she’s gone back to training cutting horses.”

“She has,” Callie confirmed. “What about it?”

“It seems providential, since I now have a breeding operation, to have a trainer in such close proximity.”

Callie stared at Blackjack, her eyes going wide as understanding dawned. “Are you suggesting that you might hire my mother to train your cutting horses?”

“Why not?” Blackjack said. “I imagine Three Oaks can use the money.”

And he would have an excuse to see her mother. Callie felt sick. “You have to stay away from her,” she whispered.

Blackjack met Callie’s gaze and said, “I can’t.”

“If you love my mother so damned much, why didn’t you marry her the first time you had the chance?” Callie blurted. The instant the words were out of her mouth, she wished them back. But it was too late for that.

“I made a mistake,” Blackjack admitted. “A tragic mistake. I didn’t realize what was really important until it was too late. I’ve regretted it ever since.” He looked Callie straight in the eye and said, “For my son’s sake, I hope you don’t make the same mistake.”

Callie turned away from Blackjack’s intense gaze to stare at Trace. The chance for a lifetime together with the one person he loved above all others had come and gone for Blackjack. But it wasn’t too late for her and Trace. There was still a chance they could have a wonderful life together. If she would just reach out and grab for it.

C
ALLIE KEPT VIGIL AT
T
RACE
’
S BEDSIDE THE
rest of the day, doing her best to cope with the visits from his family. His brother Owen couldn’t stay long, but his sister came and spent most of the afternoon keeping Callie company.

“I have to go,” Summer said at last. “There’s ranch business that needs attention. Dad doesn’t think he depends on me,” she said with a wink. “But he does. Good luck, Callie. Tell Trace to bring all of you with him for Christmas dinner.”

Callie couldn’t imagine such a thing, Christmas dinner at the Castle, but rather than argue, she merely said, “I’ll be sure to mention it to him.”

She had spent several hours sitting alone at Trace’s bedside, with nothing to do but think, when the doctor finally arrived. He did a quick examination and announced that the edema in Trace’s lungs was no worse, so he was taking him off the sedative. “He should wake up soon. You can expect his voice to be a little hoarse, but otherwise, he should make a speedy recovery.”

Callie was glad Trace’s family had come and gone and
that she would be alone with him when he woke up. She had something very important to say to him.

“Callie.” Trace sounded like he had laryngitis, his voice cracked and husky.

Callie stood and reached out to grasp his hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Chest hurts,” he said, as he forced himself into a sitting position in bed.

“Next time, try not to breathe so much smoke,” Callie teased gently, as she rearranged the pillows behind him.

“Hannah?”

Callie squeezed his hand reassuringly and said, “She’s fine. She’s at home. Thank you, Trace.”

“Couldn’t let anything … happen to one of my girls,” he rasped, as he smiled at her.

It sounded like it hurt for him to talk. “You rest, and let me do the talking.”

Callie took a fortifying breath and said, “I love you, Trace.” It was amazingly easy. She couldn’t imagine why she hadn’t said it before.

“I love you,” she repeated. “With my whole heart and soul. I want to share my life with you. I want us to make a new home together, wherever it may be.”

He closed his eyes and made a gurgling sound in his throat. She watched tears seep out from beneath his closed lids and leaned over to kiss them away.

“I want to come with you to Australia … if you’ll still have me.”

He opened his eyes, and she felt her heart leap at his look of unfettered joy.

“I love you, Callie,” he said in a gravelly voice. “I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

She laughed as he reached out to pull her into his embrace. She held on tight, realizing how close she had come to losing him.

“I want to give you a kiss worthy of the moment,” Trace said. “But I don’t think I can hold my breath that long.”

Callie laughed. “Don’t worry. I won’t ever forget this moment,” she said. “Even without the kiss.”

Trace laughed with her, then stopped when he ran out of air. When he coughed, it sounded like his insides were coming out.

“Trace? Are you all right?”

He put a hand to his chest. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “Nothing can keep me down now. I—” He stopped himself in mid-sentence and looked at her. “What about Eli? What does he have to say about all this?”

“He’s the one who suggested we ought to make a new home in Australia. He’s anxious to see a kangaroo.”