21. Katie
21
KATIE
God, my ass hurts.
There’s a huge bruise across my hip from where I hit the dirt coming off Aurora on Saturday, but it could have been a whole lot worse, so I’m not complaining. Much.
I adjust myself in Scout’s saddle but it doesn’t really help. It’s just going to hurt like a bitch for a while.
Despite the agony in my backside, every time I think about sitting on Aurora I grin. She’s making such great progress and has come such a long way from the terrified animal that arrived a few weeks ago.
I can’t wait to get back to working with her this afternoon, but first I have to check the cattle, then spend the day planting trees. Olivia is already stressing out about them dying before we get them in the ground, even though Dallas only picked them up on Saturday so we’re having a team effort today to get it done.
When Scout reaches the top of the next hill I draw her to a halt and spend a moment just taking in the sight laid before me. From this spot I have the perfect view of the farm; from the main house, to Dallas’s cottage, the barn and woodshed, right around to the Wildflower Ridge Function Centre and further out, to where the creek this town is named after spills from the hills.
I can make out the farm ute from here, heading slowly along a farm track to where we’ll be planting soon. Once I’m done with the cattle I’ll head straight to where they are. The ute pulls into the paddock it’s heading for and I smile as I see Olivia and Flynn’s tiny figures climb out.
I haven’t seen Dallas this morning, but I expected him to be with them. I shrug, he obviously got busy doing something else and will head out when he can. I turn Scout to continue on our way.
I check on the cattle, making sure everyone’s happy and healthy, has access to water, and that the fences haven’t been breached.
By the time I’m done, the sun is starting to bear down, burning off the last of the morning chill. I strip off my heavy jacket and loop it around my waist. It’s going to be a stunning day.
I’m about to head for the planting spot when my phone rings. I wince at my bruises as I lean to be able to slide it free from my pocket.
Olivia.
“Hey,” I say. “What’s up? ”
“When you’re done with the cattle, can you head to the pine tree paddock and check on Dallas?”
“Isn’t he with you?”
“Well, he should be,” she says and I notice the concern in her voice. “He went out to fix a water leak and was supposed to meet us back here. But he hasn’t shown up and it’s been ages since he left.” A cold feeling settles in my stomach. “He should have been back by now, and since you’re closest …”
“Of course. I’m heading that way now. I’ll update you.”
I turn Scout in the opposite direction, urging her into a canter as we follow the farm track through this paddock and over the hill to the pine tree paddock, creatively named for the single pine tree that stands on the top of the hill.
I peer down into the gully. If Dallas is fixing a water leak he’ll be near a water line, which run along the bottom of this paddock if I recall correctly.
I nudge Scout forward and lean back as she descends the steep hill. As we round the curve of the hillside I spot him. Well, his motorbike.
“Dallas!” I shout.
“Here,” he calls back immediately. There’s something wrong in his voice. He hasn’t just been delayed. I urge Scout faster and pull her to a stop when my eyes finally land on Dallas.
He’s on his knees behind the bike, his right hand wrapped firmly around his left forearm. But it’s not doing much to prevent the blood running down his arm.
I throw myself from Scout’s saddle and fall to the ground in front of Dallas .
“I can’t get my phone out of my pocket without the bleeding starting again,” he says through gritted teeth. His face is a little pale underneath his tan, the few freckles across his nose standing out a little more than usual.
“Wouldn’t have helped anyway,” I say. “There’s no service here.”
I take his wrist and gently unwrap his fingers. A jagged red line up the inside of his arm immediately wells with blood.
“Shit,” he murmurs. “I can’t get the bleeding to stop.”
I pull my shirt over my head without hesitation, but a moment before I go to press it to the wound, I pause.
“What is it?” He asks, eyes not quite focussing as he peers up at me.
I shove the fabric against his skin, wrapping it as tightly as possible and placing his hand back over it to hold it in place. “Nothing. It’s just my favourite shirt. But we either sacrifice it or you. And I don’t want to have to tell Sadie I let you bleed out because I liked my shirt.”
He chuckles in a vague, not all there kind of way. “It’s a good shirt,” he says, his eyes drifting down over my body.
I’m wearing a sports bra today, like most days when I’m on farm. It’s not sexy in the slightest, just a plain navy blue bra that keeps the girls in check while I’m riding.
But the way Dallas’s eyes are lingering you’d think I was wearing skimpy lingerie. His tongue slips out and swipes across his bottom lip. The sight, and the memories it stirs, makes me shiver.
“Righto, cowboy,” I say, pulling us both out of the moment. “Let’s get you up. ”
I pull him to his feet and he sways a little. His paleness and the swaying concerns me. So does the way he’s apparently struggling to focus.
“We need to get you onto Scout,” I say, leading him towards the horse and grateful she hasn’t wandered away since I abandoned her in panic.
“No,” he gasps, stumbling backwards a step. “Not the horse.”
“Yes, the horse. How else am I going to get you back?”
“Bike,” he mutters, trying to pull away from me but staggering.
“You can’t ride the bike with your arm like that. And I can’t leave Scout out here alone. You need to get on the horse.”
He turns his wide blue eyes on me. I’ve seen a lot of emotions in those eyes—frustration, anger, concern, lust—but not this one. Not pure, unfiltered terror. “Can’t,” he whispers, his voice rough as he flicks his gaze away.
“You can, cowboy.” I place both my hands on his face, forcing eye contact. “You have to. We have to get you to the hospital.” He tries to pull away but I hold him still, the rasp of his stubble grazing my fingertips. “Gotta get you back to Lady Sadie.”
A small smile tugs at his mouth. “She loves that you call her that.”
“I love to call her that.” I stroke a thumb over his cheek. “I’m going to get up on Scout and we’re going to get you up behind me, okay? I’ll make sure you’re okay. I promise.”
Dallas glances down at his arm, the blood already starting to seep through my lilac coloured shirt. Then he looks at me, over my shoulder at Scout and fixes his gaze on my face again. “I don’t think I can.”
“Can you try for me?” I don’t understand. This man is so sure, so capable, and he is truly terrified to get on Scout. I knew he had a fear of horses, but I assumed it was just that he wasn’t used to being around them. This is so much more than that. “I don’t know how else to get you back.”
He must pick up on the thread of desperation in my voice because he gives a shaky nod and I exhale in relief.
I need to get him back to the house and into a vehicle so I can get him into the hospital. The quick glance I got of the wound in his arm tells me he’s going to need it cleaned out, stitches and probably a hefty dose of antibiotics. He’s in no state to ride the motorbike back, even if he could take the pressure off his arm.
“You’ll have to help me,” he says in a shaky voice.
“I’ll help you,” I say, smoothing my fingers across his tense brow and cupping his cheek again. “I promise. I’ve got you.”
I turn away and swing myself into Scout’s saddle, then reach down for Dallas’s good arm. I grip it tight and he uses the stirrup to boost himself up while I pull. It’s awkward and clumsy but we get him on board. It’s a blessing Scout is such a steady mount.
Dallas slides into place behind the saddle, wrapping his fingers around his injured arm again.
“Put your arms around me and hold on in front of me. It’ll help you stay on.”
He hesitates, then does as I said. I shiver as I feel his arms slide against the bare skin of my waist. He reapplies pressure to his wound and presses his face into my shoulder.
I place my hand over his and squeeze gently. “I’ve got you,” I murmur as I urge Scout forward.
Dallas tenses as she moves, but after a few strides he settles again.
“Talk to me,” I say, desperate for the distraction from both the memory of the injury, and the feel of his arms around me. The mixture of bare skin and firm grip has me flashing back to the night we met again, but now just doesn’t seem like the time.
“Sadie had a riding accident,” he mutters into the crook of my neck. I can feel his breath ghosting over my shoulder and I close my eyes in a moment of bliss at the sensation. “She was on a horse with Abi and they got thrown.”
“Abi?”
“Her mum. Abigail.” Dallas draws a shaky breath. “I thought we were going to lose Sadie.”
With the hand not on the reins, I reach up and run my fingers through his hair, gently holding his head against my shoulder. “She’s okay now though, right?”
“Yeah, but that accident still screwed everything up. It’s the reason we lost Abi.” Another shaky breath is exhaled against my bare shoulder.
“What happened?” I whisper.
“She blamed herself and after she healed enough to be able to look after Sadie again … she just couldn’t. She had panic attacks every time she was left alone with her. Sadie was only two. In the end Abi couldn’t be around us anymore. She wanted to get herself sorted out, and I haven’t seen her since. I send her emails, giving her updates on Sadie. But she obviously isn’t ready to come back to her yet.”
I thread the fingers of my free hand through his hair again, caressing his scalp. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not Abi’s fault. And our relationship was struggling already. In the end, we were together because of Sadie. But it’s still a kicker.”
“And you’ve not gotten over the horse fear?”
He shakes his head. “I could ride before. I wasn’t good at it like you. I didn’t love it like you do. But I could get on a horse if I had to.”
“You’re on one now,” I whisper, resting my hand back over his.
“Don’t remind me,” he groans.
“You’re doing great,” I say, a smile tinging my words. He snorts and my smile turns into a laugh. “When you’re feeling better we’ll go on a proper ride.”
“This one’s actually pretty amazing,” he says, brushing his cheek against my shoulder in a movement that almost feels like a soft kiss. I shiver. “You’re cold.”
“I’m fine. I meant I’ll take you on a ride you can enjoy without worrying about bleeding out. Trust me, it’ll be more fun.”
I can feel his cheek curve against my back and I think he’s smiling.
“I might hold you to that,” he murmurs. “Can I ask another favour too?”
“Course you can, cowboy. But I can’t promise I’ll agree. ”
He snorts. “Typical. I hope you’ll agree to this one though.” He takes a deep breath. “Will you teach Sadie?”
“Teach Sadie …” I repeat, hoping I’m understanding his meaning, because there’s nothing I’d like more than what I think he’s asking me.
“Yeah, will you teach her to ride?”