32
I shriek when Ford collapses onto his side.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Fucking snake got me. Dirty bastard.”
My mind does a cartwheel of realization.
Ford. Snakebite. Hurt.
Oh no.
Falling to my knees, I hover over him. My heartbeat is so loud I can hear it in my ears, feel it in my palms. “What do I do?”
The color drains from Ford’s face. “Take off my boots.”
I yank them off. Gasp.
The snake’s fangs pierced through the leather. His leg is already swelling, and a trickle of blood seeps from each of the small puncture wounds on his right calf.
My hand flies to my mouth to hold in a sob. “You got bit, Ford.”
“No shit, baby.” Ford grinds his teeth together, trying his best at a smile. Even now, he’s fighting against falling apart in front of me. “Come on. Let’s get the fuck outta here.”
I help him sit up. He loops an arm around my neck. I try to help him stand, but he’s too heavy. He collapses on his back, breathing heavily.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.”
I move like I know what to do. I find the canteen and put a blanket beneath his head. Quickly, I slip off Ford’s outer shirt and drench it in water before placing the wet fabric over the wounds.
“Good girl,” he says.
Suddenly, he looks very, very tired. His amber eyes close.
I grab the two-way radio. Tears spring to my eyes at the NO SERVICE signal. Even so, I keep hammering its SOS button.
He lifts himself on his forearms. “You have to go.”
Panic rises, and I frantically shake my head. “No.” I tug on his arm, trying to lift him up. “I’m not leaving you.”
“You can’t lift me.” His voice cracks. “I’ll never stay on Eephus, anyway.”
I scrape tendrils of hair from my face. Shock paralyzes my limbs. “I can’t leave you, Ford. I can’t.”
“You have to.” His voice is steady, but I see it in his face. That spark of fear. “You have to…get to the ranch.” His chest heaves as a tremor runs through him. “Get help. We have…an antivenom kit there.”
My gaze latches onto Eephus and my stomach roils.
I rode with Ford, but me in the driver’s seat? I clench my eyes shut. Fight the flashbacks.
Gavin and the duct tape. The day turning to night. Being left out there all alone.
Ford looks like he hates himself. “I know, baby. I know.” Glassy-eyed, Ford clutches my hand, his voice breaking as his calm fractures. “Birdie, you gotta ride.”
I blow out a breath, staring at his pale face. “Okay.”
Groaning, he rests his head back on the blanket. “Tell my brothers we’re near the ravine on the Pancake Flats.”
I nod.
“It’s a straight shot back,” he rasps. I have to lean closer to hear him better. Another tremor rocks his body. “Ride straight and you’ll hit it in an hour. Maybe less.”
Leaning down, I smooth his unruly hair back. “Kiss me or I won’t come back for you.”
His chuckle is pained. “Brat.” Trembling hand finding mine, he brings it to his lips. “Baby, ride easy.” He gives Eephus a nod. “Take care of her, you bastard.”
I wobble to my feet.
Eephus looks at me. I look at him.
Chuffing, he backs up.
“C’mon, you asshole,” I hiss, taking a step toward him. “Don’t make me turn you into cat food.”
Slowly, I strip off my bangles. His black eyes follow me as I drop them on the ground. “There. That better?”
I grab his reins and he shakes me off.
He backs up. I follow.
“Please,” I beg. “Please.”
Our stare down lasts another second, and then he slowly lowers himself so I can climb on. Ford tilts his face to the sky. Relief there.
As I mount the saddle, memories assail me, making my heart race.
Only this time, I block out the bad. I focus on the good. Ford.
I know how to ride. I remember.
I snap the reins. With a squeeze of my legs and a wild cry from my lungs, I kick Eephus into a gallop. To a desperate push north to Runaway Ranch.
I don’t look back. I just ride.
No time to spare.
Ford needs me.
As we speed across sun-drenched prairie, I sing to calm my mind. Waylon Jennings, Hank Williams. My songs. My parents’ songs. I’m not helpless or crazy like Gavin has so often told me.
I’m free.
And I’m riding like the fucking wind.
Farmland turns to forest. The miles pass by in a frantic blur. My legs are numb, but I push on. I can’t ride fast enough. Can’t stop hammering my thumb on the radio’s SOS button like it’s a prayer heaven sent.
Finally, Eephus breaks through a bend on the dirt road, and I see the ranch.
A scream fills my lungs, but there’s no need.
They’re already looking for us. Dozens of cowboys. One on a black horse. Another is on an ATV heading straight for me. My chest swells with relief.
A sob erupts in my throat and my defenses crumble.
I did it.
I fucking did it.
As the ATV roars closer, I see it’s Davis.
Help.
“Reese, thank God, you’re okay.” Brown eyes wild, he searches the horizon behind me. “Where’s Ford? Where’s my brother?”
“He’s hurt,” I gasp. “He got bit by a rattlesnake.”
“Fuck,” Davis rasps, paling. His hardened features crumble, like the news has aged him twenty years. “Where is he?”
“Near the ravine on the Pancake Flats.”
“Christ.” A look of astonishment crosses his stern expression. “You rode here. Straight?”
I nod.
The severe line of his mouth moves as he speaks into the two-way radio. “I need Curtis and an antivenom kit. Now.”
An immediate response crackles back. “ On our way .”
Davis twists toward the ranch, every muscle in his body strung taught. “I’ll get you back to the house—”
I shake my head, already moving Eephus into position to ride again. “No. I’m going with you.” The muscles in my legs spasm but I refuse to stay behind, refuse to leave Ford. He would never stay behind if it was me. “I can show you where he is.”
A millisecond of uncertainty swings his gaze from me to the vast farmland. Then, decided, Davis lifts the radio once more to his mouth. “Reese and I are headed to get Ford.” His rough voice is stern, commanding. “Meet us at the ravine on the Pancake Flats. If you’re not there fast, you’re all fucking dead.”
Waiting for word on Ford is sheer torture.
Less than two hours after my arrival, we brought Ford back to the ranch. Now, the staff medic, Curtis, tends to him in a back bedroom. Davis and the rest of Ford’s brothers are pacing a hole in the hallway. Everyone assured me he’ll be okay, but I won’t believe it until I see him again.
Touch him.
For now, I sit on the couch in Dakota and Davis’s living room. Ruby brought me a change of clothes—a buttery soft flannel and leggings. Dakota hot chocolate to warm me up. Thunder rumbles. The ranch is in one piece, but I’m not.
My heart is a heavy, clenched ache.
I just want him to be okay. Please be okay.
If he isn’t…
I think about Ford, keeping me safe all through the storm, holding on to me tight.
His amber eyes.
His amazing heart.
I blow out a breath. Needing a distraction, I pull out my phone.
I freeze.
I have twenty texts. All from Gavin.
A chill skitters over my spine.
You’re playing games, Reese.
I will bring you home. One way or another.
Time’s almost up.
Something clicks inside of me, like a lock turning a key. Gavin doesn’t matter.
All that matters is Ford.
All that matters is me.
What I did today.
I survived. I found a piece of the old Reese. Which means…maybe I can start over. Maybe being brave is easier than I thought. Maybe Doctor DiFeo is right. I haven’t given myself enough credit.
“How are you holding up?”
The husky sound of Dakota’s voice has me looking up. She enters the living room with Duke in her arms.
I leap to my feet. “How is Ford? Is he okay?”
“He’ll be just fine,” Dakota says softly. Brown eyes shining with tears, she reaches out to squeeze my arm. “You got him help in time, Reese. You saved him.”
Tears threaten, but I clear my throat, pushing them away.
Dakota hugs me and I lean into her touch.
We pull back, and I smile at Duke, tickling his chin. He coos, reaching for my hair with fat little fists.
Dakota adjusts her son on her hip and says, “Don’t worry. He’ll be back to his grouchy self in no time.”
I laugh.
Davis steps into the room. Keena bounds at his boots, wagging her tail heartily.
“He wants to see you,” Davis rumbles. He rubs the back of his neck.
I hesitate, feeling awkward under Davis’s cool stare. “Oh, I—I don’t know.”
Dakota peers at me. A smile tips her full lips. “You should go up.”
“He’s pumped full of drugs,” Davis says. “So he’s acting like a damn idiot, but he, uh, also needs to see you. He won’t shut up about it.” Despite the gruff tone of his voice, there’s relief on his chiseled features.
I nod. “Okay. I have to do one thing first.”
Half an hour later, I’m back at Davis and Dakota’s house, heading down the hall with a bundle of black fur in my arms. Charlie and Wyatt, standing guard outside the bedroom door like a pair of cowboy sentries, each give a nod when they see me. Gratefulness shines in their eyes.
I chew my lip. “Davis said it was okay—”
“Go ahead,” Charlie commands somberly.
Then I’m stepping into the room.
Ford’s in bed, propped up by pillows. Shirtless, he’s hooked up to an IV. His eyes are glassy with drugs, but when he sees me, he gives me a big, lopsided smile.
“Birdie Girl,” he exclaims joyfully.
At the sight of him, my knees go weak.
“Hi,” I say. “I brought you someone.”
I place Mouse on the bed. She heads for Ford, and his hand comes out to clumsily stroke her fur. She arches under his touch, butts her head under his palm. More, please.
And then Ford’s free hand, large and warm, wraps around my wrist. Pulling gently, but firmly, he sits me on the edge of the bed.
I stare down at my wrist, blinking. I forgot I didn’t have my bangles.
“How are you?” I ask, fighting hot tears in my eyes.
“Better than ever, baby.”
I laugh. “Somehow I doubt that.” I sweep a lock of hair off his brow. My touch seems to comfort him, so I do it again. Eyes heavy, he settles back against the pillows.
“My dream girl,” he murmurs, kissing my palm with exquisite care. “You and me, meant to be.”
His words sink into me like sunlight.
“Hush. You’re talking foolish, Ford.”
“But I’m not, baby,” he says in his deep, drugged voice. “I dreamed about you, and you came true.”
“Sleep, Country Boy.”
“Don’t wanna,” he slurs, fighting to keep his eyes open.
But I have the trick to make it happen. I scratch my nails through his hair. A soft, satisfied noise rises in the back of his throat. Smiling, I watch as his eyelids get lower and lower until he’s asleep, his broad chest slowly rising and falling.
The most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.
He’s alive and okay.
Hot tears fill my eyes.
What would I do without him?
I want to exist—not because of him, but for him. All because I—
I gasp.
So loud in the silence. So loud that Mouse lifts her head to scrutinize me. About damn time.
I cover my mouth with a trembling hand.
No. Impossible. I cannot love this man. This—this cowboy.
I look at his large hand wrapped around mine, his calloused fingertips gently covering the scars on the inside of my wrist.
I do.
I love him.
Dual waves of panic and joy crash over me.
Would he love me back? Could he? With my past, my chaos, am I more a burden than he needs? What if he considers us friends and nothing more? Still, despite my what-ifs, my heart is a wild tremble. A lick of flame igniting hopes and dreams long buried.
Maybe this is why I’m here. Maybe everything has led me to Ford.
Standing, I untangle our hands and lean down to press a kiss to his brow. I breathe in his scent, feel the ache in my gut snap tight.
When I open the door and step outside, I run into a solid wall of muscle.
Davis.
His hands fist at his side. “You don’t have to go,” he says.
I palm my hands to my heart. “No. I should.” My gaze locks with his. “Take care of him, okay?”
I’m halfway down the hall when Davis booms, “Reese.”
Breath held, I turn.
“I’m sorry.” The smile he gives me is soft. “I was wrong about you.”
I smile back at him.
“Yeah,” I breathe. “I think I was wrong about me, too.”