Chapter 13Quinn O’Grady
Chapter 13
Quinn’s Nightmare
Quinn O’Grady
F or a moment, Quinn O’Grady just stared down at Staten lying on the ground. Fear rose in her chest. “Get up,” she screamed louder than she ever had in her life. “STATEN!”
The one name echoed off the clouds as tears ran down her cheeks.
“Get up. You’re scaring me.” He looked like a huge cowboy doll whose eyes were closed.
He was tall and solid but asleep. He didn’t look like he was hurt, only resting. Tanned. Young. Strong. He was not just Amalah’s boyfriend; he was Quinn’s friend too. He’d taught her to drive on back roads and how to ride a horse. She taught him math in the fourth grade and algebra a few years later.
“Staten, get up! This is not funny. We’re too old to play games like this.”
He didn’t move. She’d seen him hurt on the football field but he’d been conscious then, and groaning. Now he was still and silent.
Quinn climbed down off her horse and knelt to touch his cheek. Then she patted his face. “Staten? Staten, come on.”
Nothing but shallow breathing.
Panic shot through her entire body.
She tried slapping him, as if that would wake him. “Get up, Staten. Say something.”
His head rolled to the side but his eyes stayed closed. Quinn saw blood pooling at the back of his head.
She yelled his name again. He was bleeding. He might die and she had no idea what to do.
“You’re all right. You’re all right.” He didn’t move. She shook his shoulder. “You are going to be all right, Staten.” He still didn’t move.
Quinn gripped his arms, trying to pull him up. Blood was dripping on his shirt and the back of his coat. “Staten? Stop playing around,” she whispered as tears filled her eyes. She stared as his face turned ghost white. “Staten. Wake up. You’re scaring me. Wake up right now.”
She took a few seconds to handle her panic. She tried to think. He was big and solid from work on the ranch. There was no way she could pick him up. But she couldn’t leave him.
A river of tears almost blinded her. She looked around at the endless land and realized she wasn’t even sure which way HQ was. North and South were sides of the Civil War to her, not directions. She’d tried to learn directions in New York by watching the buildings and still got lost.
There was no time to cry. She had to figure something out. Staten needed help. Ideas popped into her head. She couldn’t pull him. The prairie had no trees to make a sled, even if she knew how, so that thought was useless. She could scream for help, but no one would hear her.
For the first time she realized how big this ranch was. When they were younger, she knew when they rode out, there was always a cowboy watching over them even if they couldn’t see him. Later when they were in their teens, J.R. always said, “Stay in sight of the big house.”
Now, as she knelt beside Staten, she looked in every direction. Nothing but yellow grass and a lonely mesquite tree dotting the land now and then. Amalah and Staten both had a great sense of direction. Quinn did not.
Maybe someone would come get them. But how would help find them? And how long would it take? If no one came, Quinn and Staten would probably be eaten by coyotes or worse, wild pigs.
Then, she remembered the Double K’s emergency signal. When they were older, and they wanted to ride out farther, J.R. told Staten to take a gun along so he could fire three shots if they needed help. She opened his coat and saw the Colt at his side. After a few cuss words, she finally got the gun out of his holster.
Quinn stood and raised the Colt straight up, firing three times toward heaven. Staten didn’t move. She replaced the gun in its holster, then she pulled the scarf from around her neck and reached for his head. The wound looked only a few inches long, but it was bleeding pretty badly. She placed the scarf on his cut, then sat down next to him and laid his head in her lap.
“Staten. Staten! Wake up.” She put her hand over his heart and tried to let his steadily rising chest comfort her. But when he still didn’t move, she quietly let tears fall. “You’re all right. Help will be here in a minute. And I’m not going anywhere.”
She waited and waited. Time seemed to stand still. She just kept whispering, “Staten. They will be here soon.”
Quinn was about to shoot three more times when suddenly Staten groaned. Then she heard what sounded like horses racing toward her and a vehicle flying over rough land. One of the Double K’s trucks skidded to a stop across from them.
Jake was the first one out of the truck. “What happened, Quinn?”
She tried to keep her voice steady as she explained what had happened.
The cowboys worked like a team of medics with Jake giving out instructions. “Lift him up and get him in the pickup bed. Watch his head. No doubt he has a concussion.”
Jake kept yelling. “Four men get in the back. The other two grab their horses and ride as fast as you can to a phone. Tell whoever answers at the clinic that I’m bringing in Staten Kirkland, and someone better be there.”
The foreman rushed toward the cab as the men climbed into the back and gently lifted Staten in. “The hay will ease the ride but you guys make sure he doesn’t fall out. All coats piled over him. Quinn, you ride up in the cab with me.”
There was no way she was leaving her friend now. She moved past him to hop in the back. “I’m going to hold his head. I’m staying with him.”
Jake chewed a few cuss words as Quinn settled in the back.
While he started the pickup, Jake ordered, “Someone tell J.R. and Mrs. Kirkland I’ll call as soon as I know something.”
He was still yelling like his volume dial was broken while they headed toward Crossroads.
Quinn didn’t say another word. She just did her best to hold Staten’s head still. Silent tears slipped down her windburned cheeks as she kept whispering, “You’re going to be okay.”
Staten was coming to as the pickup hit town. He blinked slowly as if bringing the scene into focus. “Wha . . .”
Not one of the four men in the back said a word. They just had their hands around Staten’s arms and legs.
“Shh.” Quinn leaned in closer to his chest, stroking his head. “You’re okay. Just rest now.”
When they reached the county road, it wasn’t as bumpy but the men didn’t let up. They were all going to make sure Staten would make it to the doctor in one piece.
At the clinic, the men lifted him out as if they knew the routine. When Quinn hesitated behind Staten, Jake helped her down as if she weighed no more than ten pounds.
“Thank you,” she whispered to Jake.
“No, young lady. Thank you. You may have saved the boss’s life.”
Quinn wished she could believe him.
Staten was rushed through to an empty waiting room. Jake walked, silent, beside her as the bossy head nurse took over. “I’ll get him checked in. Then I’ll call the doc. He’ll decide if we should drive Mr. Kirkland down to Lubbock Hospital or keep him here.”
The nurse tried to shoo everyone out of the exam room, and when that failed she started muttering that the ranch hands had better not trample the clinic’s grass again.
Quinn couldn’t stop a small smile as she heard Staten complain. “Get me out of here. I’m okay. I’m ready to go home. I . . .”
The nurse stopped him, then turned to the ranch hands standing still as statues, as if trying to make themselves invisible. “Well, if you’re not going to vacate the room, at least make yourselves useful. Strip him, boys. Clean the wound and we’ll see what we’ve got here.”
“I’m fine. I’m going home.” Staten swung one leg off the bed but everyone in the room knew he’d just used up all his fight. His face turned ghost white as his eyes rolled back.
Quinn moved to rush to him, but the foreman beat her to Staten’s side.
“You’re not going anywhere, Boss. Not until the nurse says you can,” Jake ordered. “If I have to sit on you along with all four of these men, I will. Quinn, you might want to step out. If he fights us, someone could get hurt.”
The silent nurse on the other side of Staten shoved a needle into his arm without warning and Quinn’s heart squeezed. He managed to say, “Quinn,” as she slipped from the room.
She looked back and saw him lying on his pillow. As the door swung closed, the cowhands and Jake all stepped away as Staten shut his eyes.
As the minutes passed, Quinn wanted to storm the room, but all she could do was wait.
She moved to the closest phone she could find and called Amalah.
“Hello.”
“Hey, it’s me,” Quinn whispered.
“What’s up, Quinn?” A slight irritation colored Amalah’s voice.
Quinn took a deep breath. “Staten is hurt.”
All the noise seemed to fade in the hallway around her, and Quinn could hear Amalah’s breathing quicken. In a low tone Quinn told her about Staten’s fall and his head injury.
Once she started talking, all the facts came out. “The nurse said if there are no problems tomorrow, he might get to go home in a few days. But Jake is pretty sure Staten has a concussion. The traveling doc will examine him on his rounds later tonight to make sure nothing is wrong.”
“Thank God he’s okay,” Amalah said. “Two days at the clinic and a week in bed at home. That doesn’t sound so bad.”
Quinn asked, “You are coming in tonight? Staten will want you here when he wakes.”
Amalah hesitated. Then her words came slow. “No. I can’t make it tonight. Besides, what could I do? He’s in good hands at the clinic. The men will probably stay with him every second, too, and the staff will be there. After all, you said the doc was just keeping an eye on him. You’ve gotta remember he’s a rancher. And ranchers are always getting beat up by nature.” Amalah pleaded, “Quinn, you’re my best friend, and I know you’re Staten’s friend too. I know it’s a big favor but watch over him for me. I’ll try to get home in two days, three at the most. I’m just so busy right now. And you being there is just as good as if I was.”
Quinn didn’t know what to say. She knew it was Amalah Staten would want when he woke up.
“Amalah, you should be here for him.” Quinn placed her face against the smooth wall next to her, hoping it would cool her cheeks. “Of course I’ll watch him, but you need to call and check in on him. Let him know you care. I’ll be at the clinic until he goes home.”
Amalah began to cry. “I do care. I’ll call morning, afternoon, and night. If someone doesn’t answer, I’ll keep calling every hour until I get home. I’m just way, way too busy to come home unless something serious happens. I know I won’t be much help anyway.” She sniffled into the phone. “But please keep me informed. Stay with him and take care of him and let me know how he’s doing every day. I’ll be home as soon as I can. I promise.”
Quinn hung up the phone wondering what she could do. What she could say. She had never felt sorry for Staten, but she was starting to feel sorry for him now. His girl wasn’t coming home, and she knew that would hurt him.
She squared her shoulders and walked back to wait outside the door of his room. No matter what happened, she could be the friend he needed now.