Chapter 5
LONDON
I’m listening to the veterinarian, trying to ignore the way Dillon is hovering by my side.
“Queenie’s fine. She’s had her rubdown, and she went for a run about an hour ago. She’s good.”
I run my hand down my horse’s back and lean in to whisper to her, “That’s right, Queenie. You’re a good baby, aren’t you? You ready for today?”
The horse neighs as if she understands me and rubs her head against my shoulder.
I lean my face against her and nuzzle her.
After taking a deep breath, I pat her. “Let’s go win us a race, Queenie.”
She huffs and stomps her foot.
I shake hands with Dr. Macks, and without another glance at Dillon, I hold Queenie’s lead as I walk out to the arena. It’s not until I get up to the fence that I realize I’m next. I put one foot into the stirrup and pull myself up to the saddle.
Dillon puts his hand on my leg. “Hey.”
I want to ignore him, but I force my gaze down. “What?”
He shakes his head sadly. “I know you’re mad at me, but don’t go out there like this. Forget about me, forget about your parents, forget about everything. Focus on the ride.”
I take a deep breath. I know he’s right. I wish my parents were here, but they’re somewhere across the country living it up, spending the money I make. And no matter what he says, I’m not going to forget about Dillon. Since we kissed last night, he’s all I’ve thought about.
“London… are you listening to me? I need you to be focused when you go out there.”
I nod my head. “Right. Focused.”
The woman before me comes off and wishes me luck. I tell her, “Good ride” and then try to put everything else out of my head.
I get to the line, ready to go. The countdown begins, and when the alarm buzzes, I take off out of the shoot. The whole time, I’m cheering on Queenie. “Let’s go, girl.” “You got this.” “Let’s do this.”
Queenie runs like she’s never run before. She glides around the barrels smoothly, and before I even realize it, we’re on the straightaway back to the starting point.
I can hear the crowd going wild, but everything in front of me is a blur until we come to a halt.
The thunderous reaction from the arena vibrates within me. I’m huffing and puffing, telling Queenie what a good job she did.
While I’m still astride my horse, the announcement comes over that I’ve beaten the record for barrel racing in my division.
I’m smiling, waving to everyone as I ride off to the exit.
I stay on the horse as I head into the back with Dillon walking beside me.
The smile on his face is everything to me, and I hate that I’ve given a man that much power over me.
Especially one that doesn’t want to want me.
I climb off Queenie, and as soon as my feet hit the ground, I get woozy. I lose all control of my body, and I know I’m falling, but I can’t do anything about it.
I come to seconds later, or maybe minutes, I’m not really sure. But Dillon has me up in his arms, looking at me with an alarmed look on his face.
He takes me to the back, and I look over his shoulder. “Queenie?”
Dillon is gruff. “Roger’s got her. He’s going to get her back home.”
I lean my head against Dillon’s chest. “I have another ride.”
Dillon’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t say another word. He carries me straight to the infirmary. He bypasses a cowboy holding his arm and another cowboy with a gash in his forehead and blood streaming down.
Dillon bellows, “Help. We need help.”
I struggle to get out of his arms. “Stop it. I’m fine.”
He tightens his arms around me. “I’m not letting you down, so you might as well stop squirming.”
The doctor comes out of a door. “Uh oh, what happened here?”
Dillon answers before I can. “She fainted.”
I gesture to the people in their seats. “They were here before us. See them first.”
The cowboy holding his arm grumbles, “I’m out the rest of the day. See her first.”
The one with the gash in his head chimes in. “Yeah, they won’t let me ride after this. See her first.”
I groan in frustration. “Look, I’m fine. I don’t need to see the doctor—”
I might as well be talking to the wall because Dillon pushes past the doctor and sits me on the bed in the center of the room. “She just rode. Had her best time. Got off the horse and passed out.”
He’s talking fast and in short sentences, breath heaving.
I hold my hand up to Dr. Lane. “I’m fine.”
The doctor turns his back to me, getting things out of the cabinet. “Any chance you can be pregnant?”
Before I can spit out a resounding no, Dillon locks eyes with me, and I see the need in their brown depths. His hand goes to my flat belly.
The doctor turns around and looks at us. “So possibly pregnant?”
Without looking away from Dillon, I shake my head. “No… uh…. There’s no way I’m pregnant.”
“Okay, can you sit up so I can look at you?”
Dillon raises me up and then sits behind me like he needs to support my back. “I’m fine,” I tell him for the umpteenth time.
He doesn’t say anything, just has a hand on my back the whole time the doctor examines me.
“Follow my finger with your eyes.” I do as he says, and he nods. “Good. What’s the last thing you remember before you passed out?”
I think back. “Uh, they announced my ride time, and I rode out of the arena to Dillon.”
Dillon chimes in, “That was right before she passed out.”
“Does your head hurt?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Did she hit her head or anything?”
Dillon answers instantly. “No. I caught her before she hit the ground.”
“When was the last time you ate?”
I open my mouth to answer and then have to think about it. “Uh, well, let’s see. Probably yesterday afternoon.”
Dillon gasps behind me, and the doctor takes a step back and leans against the counter. “Right, well, I’m guessing you got light-headed. Your blood sugar likely dropped too low. Fainting is a way for your body to force you to stop.”
I’m wide-eyed as I ask, “But I can ride again today… I mean, after I eat.”
“You’re not riding today,” Dillon says.
I hold my hand up to stop him and look at the doctor. “Doc?”
He looks between Dillon and me and takes a deep breath. “No more riding today. You fainted because your blood sugar dropped, and it can happen again if you push yourself.”
“But…” I start.
He shakes his head. “I want you fed, watered, and stable before you get on the back of a horse again.”
I open my mouth to argue, but pure exhaustion comes over me. “Fine.”
Dillon is next to me and helps me from the table. “Thanks, Doc. Just bill us.”
I thank the doctor, and as soon as my feet hit the ground, Dillon lifts me in his arms. “I can walk,” I tell him.
He just keeps moving.
The doctor opens the door, and Dillon strides with me in his arms from the infirmary. As soon as we walk out, we’re surrounded by people.
Some of them are minding their own business, getting ready for their next event or whatever, but a lot of people are watching us. “Everyone is staring.”
“I don’t care,” Dillon says.
He holds me tighter, and my face is tucked against his neck. “I can walk.”
He’s striding toward the exit, and his arms tighten around me. “I’d like to hold you if that’s okay.”
When I don’t answer him, he stops and looks down at me. “London, is it okay if I carry you to the car?”
I nod my head and wrap both hands around his neck. “Yeah, okay.”
He gets me to his truck, opens the passenger door, and slides me in. He pulls the seatbelt around me, and before closing the door, he searches my eyes. “You okay?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
He opens his mouth, then closes it.
He wants to say something, but he just shakes his head and then shuts the door.
Instead of watching him walk around the truck, I lean my head back against the seat.
I sleep almost the whole way back to my ranch.
I open my eyes only when Dillon lifts me out of the truck to carry me inside. “I’m sorry,” I murmur.
He clenches his eyes shut. “Don’t say you’re sorry.”
I lean my head back against his chest and let him carry me inside the house, down the hall and to my bedroom.
Juggling me in one arm, he pulls the covers back and then lays me down on the bed.
He points at me. “Stay right there. I’m going to go fix you something to eat.”
I shake my head. “I’m not hungry.”
He sits on the side of the bed, his hip next to mine. He’s looking at me so intently that all I can do is stare back at him. He lifts his hand and brushes a stray hair off my face. “London, you have to eat.”
I nod. I know he’s right. “Yeah, right, I know. I can get myself something.”
His hand goes to my shoulder. “Stay right here and I’ll get it.”
He watches me for another few seconds, and then with a huffed breath, he gets up.
I watch him as he walks out of my room. I can hear the sounds of cabinets opening, pans being set on the stove.
Only ten minutes go by before Dillon is walking back into the room with a tray in his hands.
I scoot up, putting my back against the headboard.
He sets the tray on my lap. “I made you grilled cheese and tomato soup. There’s some strawberries, and I put some of those electrolytes you like in your water. Oh, and there are a few cookies to round it out.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, and as soon as the scent of the food hits me, my stomach grumbles.
I lift a spoonful of soup, blow on it, and take a sip. Dillon sits on the chair next to the bed, watching me.
I lift another spoonful to my lips. “Are you going to keep watching me?”
He looks like he’s about to say yes, but he shakes his head and shoots up. “No. Uh, I’m pretty sure your folks have already heard, but I’m going to let them know you’re not riding later today.”
“My parents are going to flip. They were already planning on how to spend that money.”
His hands go to fists. “We’re about to change things around here, London.”
Suddenly ravenous, I take a bite of the sandwich and then cover my mouth as I chew and respond, “What do you mean?”
He throws a hand up. He’s mad, that much is obvious. “All this. No one is taking care of you.”
I swallow and point my finger to my chest. “I can take care of myself. Just because I forgot to eat one day doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself.”
He shakes his head. “London, you don’t think I know that? I know you can take care of yourself. You’ve been taking care of yourself and the rest of your family for a while now.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
He leans against the open door. “Do you trust me?”
I nod. “You know I do.”
He nods once and points at the tray on my lap. “Eat. I’ll be back.”