Chapter Ten
My body melts into a relaxation I’ve never experienced before, and the voices around me whir with whispers.
Shapes and colours shift into images. I’m mounting a white horse and watching another young woman ride in the arena next to me.
Burly men are holding my horse still. The other woman has brown curly hair.
She looks focused, worried, and her horse seems downright determined to buck as hard as it can.
The whites of its eyes are showing, and it has its head down, nostrils flared.
The horse is twisting and turning, trying to get the woman off.
I’m waiting my turn to ride, but I can hardly pay attention as the men put the rein in my hand and help me get my feet in the stirrups.
My heart races as I watch the other woman intently.
Her horse starts bucking and bucking. But then the strangest thing happens – her worry melts away, she throws a hand in the air and she grins.
Suddenly a deep, raspy voice that feels like medicine cuts through the noise and the images clear.
“What should we do?” the voice asks.
“Nothing now,” the woman says. “Let her rest and press the call button if it happens again. They’re slowing down, so I’d be surprised if she has any more.”
“OK, thank you.”
“Thank you, Cash. It helped to have you here.”
Cash.
Footsteps click across the hard floor as she leaves the room.
“Oh man,” Cash says to himself.
“You OK over there?” I ask quietly.
“Dahlia?” He moves quickly to my side. I feel his warm leg rest against my hand.
I open my eyes, and the familiarity of his face makes me feel born again. Then dizzy confusion sets in. How long have I known Cash? The few weeks Mom and I have lived at the ranch feel more like forever.
“Hey,” I say, my voice catching.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m OK, but…” My body feels like it’s floating above the bed. “Where am I?” This could be a dream, but my head hurts enough to believe it’s not. “What happened?”
“You had a mild seizure. Well, a few of them.” He looks down at my IV and reaches to touch it before pulling back. On his wrist is a silver cuff bracelet, stamped with feather-like lines. “The seizures started when we got to the highway.”
“Seizures? I’ve never had seizures before.”
“The doctor said it’s a side-effect of your reaction,” he sighs. “She said these reactions can get worse each time you’re stung.”
I avoid his concerned gaze. “How did you know where I was?”
“I looked where your mom suggested, but then thought of where I’d be on a scorcher like this.” A smirk pulls on his lips. “Exactly where I found you. Under the cottonwoods by the pond. Except, I’d be buck naked, swimming in that cool water.”
I immediately feel nauseous again. My chest heaves. Cash puts a plastic tub in front of me, his face full of compassion. Thankfully nothing comes up.
“Just the thought of me naked makes you sick, huh?” he jokes.
I crack a smile. I appreciate that he’s lightened the mood, even if it feels wrong to talk about nakedness with a guy I barely know.
Yes, I remind myself – that sleepy feeling of familiarity was mistaken. I barely know Cash.
He hands me a cup of water and I sip it. The mild chlorine of the city water lingers in my mouth, and I find myself wishing I had a handful of cherries to help wash the taste off my tongue.
After gaining some composure, I ask, “Why were you there in the first place?”
He sits down in the rubberized chair next to the bed. “Went for a ride, trying to clear my mind.”
I tilt my head, not understanding.
“When I think about getting on a bronc again … I…” He shakes his head. “Never mind. Forget it.”
“No, I understand. Blue and I had a bad accident once. He slipped in the mud and fell on me. Trampled me as he scrambled to get up. Just the other day, he spooked and I panicked. The thought of being thrown after getting hurt is crippling.”
He clasps his hands together and leans his elbows on his knees.
“So…” I continue, “you went for a ride to my place?”
“There’s something about being there that makes me… No, forget it.” He frowns and gets up, grabbing the pitcher next to the bed. He walks quickly to the sink and shoves it under the faucet. With a hard, dry voice, he asks, “Why were you by the hives without a suit on?”
I rub my sweaty palms on the stark white sheets and decide to embarrass myself with the truth. “Ever since I was little and Grandpa taught me to work with the bees, I’ve felt this connection with them. Like … they hear me when I talk to them. Does that sound weird?”
“No.” His concern dissolves into a glimmer of understanding. “I talk to my dog all the time.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Everyone talks to their dog, though.”
“Do they?” he says. “I’ll have to tell my dad I’m normal, then.”
“I didn’t say you were normal,” I laugh.
“Anyway, I was really angry at my dad and needed to be near the bees. Needed to talk to them, or myself, I guess.” I bite my lip, looking around the room at the monitors and devices.
There are giant adjustable lights above me and a poster on the wall to help assess your pain level. “Do you know why my mom isn’t here?”
Cash brings the pitcher of water back to the side table and straightens. “When we got to the house, your sister said your mom needed to sleep. I asked if I could take you in your mom’s car.”
“That’s typical.”
“What?”
“She’ll wake my mom up for the most trivial things, but the one time I need her Emery makes you take care of me.”
“She didn’t make me,” Cash says, rubbing his chin, annoyance on his breath.
That was a crummy thing for me to say. This guy literally saved my life.
“Really, it was nothing,” he goes on. “And you should consider yourself lucky. When it was me in the hospital, my entire family was there. Well, except my grandma. She was at the chapel praying. She prays all the time.”
“It sounds nice to have all those people care about you.” I fiddle with my IV catheter. “Is your grandma Catholic?”
“Yes, and I think praying is the only way she knows how to cope because Catholicism was literally beaten into her ancestors,” he says. “I won’t get into it all, but her people, the Cochiti, were invaded by Spanish conquistadors and missionaries.”
I sigh and shake my head. I want to ask him more, but I don’t want to pry.
“So … is your sister OK with horses?” he asks. “I asked her to put them in Blue’s paddock.”
“Yeah, she can handle that, but Blue probably walked himself back anyway.”
“I’m sure Luna followed. I didn’t even tie her up. Just told your sister what was going on and jumped in the car. I’m sorry to say, I forgot to buckle you up.” He smiles. “Why does your mom need so much sleep?”
“She has advanced lupus. Sometimes she sleeps all day, or for days.”
“Damn.” He sits back in the chair. “That’s gotta be tough. Let me know if you all ever need anything.”
I smile, surprised. “Thanks.”
Cash rubs the back of his neck and shrugs. “I’m close to town. It would be nothing for me to grab anything you might need.” He runs his hand down the controller cord, the one that makes the bed tilt forward and back. “Emery said she’d call your dad and have him meet us here.”
“How long have we been here?” I study the mountain outside my window. From the ranch, I can tell what time of day it is by the way the sunlight strikes it. At this angle, the pine trees and rocky facade don’t cast the same shadows. We’re much closer.
“About two hours. They were going to intubate you, but tried oxygen and gave you Valium first. Your lips turned blue, and you were totally out of it. Do you remember any of that?”
I shake my head. “The Valium was for the seizures?”
“Yeah. You woozy from it?”
I nod.
Cash smirks and we’re quiet for a long time. I close my eyes again. My eyelids feel like lead weights. Another wave of relaxation floods my veins like warm bath water. I’m suddenly taken over with sleep.
I trip through a fractured dream – handwritten letters, the smell of horses, the roar of a rodeo, a warm hand holding mine…
“Dahlia,” Cash whispers, waking me with a start.
A young female nurse steps into the room. She can’t be too much older than us. Probably just out of nursing school. Her light-pink scrubs are too big, and her hair is pulled tightly into a ponytail.
“You’re up,” she says, her voice perky. “I need to check your vitals.” She rolls the computer stand closer to the bed and pulls her stethoscope off her neck. “Cash, can you give us a minute?”
“Of course,” he says, giving me a half smile and leaving the room.
“I’m Mona.”
She lifts my arm off the bed and wraps a blood-pressure cuff round my bicep. After she listens to my breathing and pulse, she checks my eyes. Then she takes the ice pack off my stung hand. I’d nearly forgotten it was there. The numbness makes it feel like I’m missing a limb.
After asking how I feel and if I need to use the restroom, she says, “Your boyfriend saved your life.”
“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend.” He’s someone else’s, I want to say.
“Well, he sure is fond of you.” She adjusts the pillows under my feet. “He did everything right.”
She tells me how he carried me into the ER and gave them a detailed description of my symptoms. He didn’t want to leave my side, and because they were short-staffed he was allowed to keep an eye on me.
As Mona fills my cup from the pitcher, Dad barges into the room.
“Is there a reason I haven’t been notified about what’s going on with my daughter?”