Chapter Sixteen
As far as dinners out went, the food was a definite success tonight, but the company, not so much.
Nicole could feel knots forming in her own stomach from the tension and she was merely a friendly bystander.
“It’s getting late.” She set her napkin beside her empty plate. “I’d like to check on Duke.”
Ryan pushed his own chair back and stood beside her.
“I’ll go with you. Handling a restless horse and a heavy gate is a two-person job.
Especially at this time of night.” He looked around the table, his expression shifting into a polite, professional mask.
“Y’all enjoy the rest of your dinner. We’ll be back shortly. ”
Morgan raised a single dark eyebrow at his younger brother that practically shouted you’ve-got-to-be-kidding.
Ignoring the looks around the table, Ryan settled his hand at the small of Nicole’s back and led both of them toward the door.
At this hour, the quiet calm of Sadieville was the complete antithesis to the heavy tension they’d left behind. She did her best not to grin like a schoolgirl at how happy it made her that Ryan had yet to remove his hand as they walked side by side, boot heels thumping against the wooden sidewalk.
“I can’t remember ever sitting at a dinner like that.” He held back a chuckle. “I swear, any minute I expected Mom to start a riot. I think she’s spent most of our lives waiting for this fight with the family.”
Her hand on the heavy latch of the livery door, Nicole paused. “Has no one ever noticed that she isn’t looking for a fight with everyone, just your Aunt Anne? Whatever happened years ago, her beef is with her sister-in-law and no one else.”
Ryan sighed, a low sound that carried a weight of weary resignation. “I just can’t think what such a nice lady as Aunt Anne could have done to piss my mother off that much.”
“I sure haven’t a clue.” She yanked the door open, a sharp, hollow boom echoed from the back of the building. The earthy scent of horse sweat and agitated animal met them. The clear sound of a heavy hoof striking wood rang out again, followed by a low, pained groan from Duke.
“He’s at it again.” Nicole quickened her pace, weaving through the stacks of construction material.
The bulb of a single temporary fixture dimly lit the inside of the livery.
Stepping across the large space carefully, his gaze landed on Duke’s stall.
The massive Percheron swayed slowly, his dark head hanging low, his front hooves rhythmically digging at the straw bedding.
He looked toward them, his dark eyes clouded and dull.
“Easy, boy,” Ryan murmured, his voice dropping into that low, soothing register.
As she’d feared, Duke had easily kicked the gate right off the hinges.
That must have been the low boom they’d heard when they opened the livery door.
The big animal continued to paw and rock, his weight gently bumping into the wall beside him.
The low creaking of stressed wood caught her attention.
The gate might be the least of their problems. “Why don’t you take Duke outside, tie him to the hitching post?
I’ll get Daisy. I don’t think it’s a good idea for either of them to be in here tonight. ”
“Something is definitely off with Duke.” He snagged Duke’s halter and lead from the peg beside the stall and held it up. “Can you grab Daisy’s and get it on her?”
Good question. She watched when they’d removed the equipment after placing the horses in the stall—how hard could it be? “I think so, just in case, I’ll watch you first.”
Giving her an approving nod, he stepped into Duke’s space, one hand already reaching for the big animal’s neck.
“Easy, boy. Easy.” He slid the lead rope up and around Duke’s thick neck first, taking hold before the horse could swing away, then worked the halter over his nose and up behind his ears in one practiced motion.
Duke sidestepped, restless energy rolling through his massive shoulders, but it was easy to see how Ryan kept a steady pressure on the lead, turning the horse’s head toward him and away from the broken opening.
“That’s it. Settle down.” Once the buckle was fastened, he shortened the lead and guided Duke forward, angling him clear of the splintered gate and out into the aisle. “You got it?”
Forcing a confident smile, she nodded. “Got it.” Nicole hurried to the adjacent stall.
Ryan already had Duke out of the way, but as she got the halter and lead on Daisy, she couldn’t ignore the groaning wood around her.
Slowly easing Daisy out of her stall, Nicole watched the overhead beams and the growing gap by the stall walls. She didn’t like it one bit.
Heaving a slow relieved sigh, she tied Daisy to the post beside Duke.
Ryan had the horse’s hoof in his hand, his gaze meeting hers. “Checking for stones or something that could have him so agitated.”
“I’m going back inside. Everything is shifting and if we don’t get some support posts up, there might not be a loft or roof when we come to work in the morning.”
Nodding, he set the one hoof back on the ground. “I’ll get the jack from the shed, then I’ll call Morgan to come deal with the horses. We’ll probably have to call Adam too.”
Back inside, she grabbed a couple of two by fours off the side and cursed that everyone took their tools home.
She wanted to at least screw them together for stronger four by fours.
Then again, looking up in time to hear the sharp snap overhead, another beam was splitting.
What an unholy mess. Leaning the few two by fours she’d located against the rear wall, she turned to meet Ryan with the jack.
Two long strides and that blasted sound thundered above, only this time, when she looked up, she didn’t see a crackling timber, the last few screws holding the wall up gave way.
All she could see was a wall of white crashing down around her—oh hell.
Dragging the hydraulic jack across the threshold, thunderous rumble vibrated through the soles of Ryan’s boots like a California earthquake. The sharp, feminine scream that followed sent shivers racing up his spine.
“Nicole!” Heaving the jack aside, he bolted toward the rear addition.
A thick, white cloud of dust and pulverized plaster billowed out, choking the air and turning the dim beam of light into a blinding wall of grit.
Choking on the chalky mess, he shielded his eyes with one arm and pushed deeper into the debris, a massive mound of sheetrock, wood, insulation, dust, dirt, and rusty nails had buried the woman he couldn’t bear the thought of living without.
“Nicole! Talk to me!” He tried for calm, but his voice came out frantic even to his ears.
A muffled cough erupted from the left. Dropping to his knees, bare handed, he frantically clawed at what was left of the partition wall that had pancaked onto the floor. Splintered and jagged edges pointed in every direction.
“I’m,” cough, “here.” The words were quiet and weak, but still music to his ears.
Relief flooded through him with such force his hands shook as he gripped the edge of a heavy header beam.
Bracing his boots against the concrete, he heaved the timber upward.
The wood groaned, shifting just enough for him to see a flash of dusty fabric and a hint of bare skin.
“Stay still. I’m going to get you out.” His heart slamming frantically against his ribs, he shoved more debris aside, ignoring the stabbing pain of wood shards snapping under his weight.
He had to get her out. She had to be all right. She had to.
“Ryan.” His name came out more like a moan, or perhaps a prayer.
Shoving even more of the mess aside, he finally revealed enough of her to see she’d been pinned from the waist down by a fallen rafter, her body cushioned by the very stack of two-by-fours she had been trying to use as supports.
He grabbed the rafter, muscles in his back screaming as he hauled the weight off her.
“Is anything hurt?”
Blinking away the dust on her face, she slid out from the gap and reached for his hand. “What’s the old joke; only when I breathe.”
“Don’t tease me. Are you all right?”
“I’ve had better days.” She tried for a smile. “Are you going to help me out or not?”
“Are you sure I won’t make things worse? Did you hurt your back?”
“I can wiggle my fingers and toes.” She spread the fingers on the hand she’d held out and waved them back and forth. “See? Now get me out of here.”
He pulled her up and out of the mess, his fingers digging into her shoulders as if to convince himself she was solid.
Her breathing ragged, she leaned against him for a heartbeat.
Wrapping his arms around her, he forced his racing heart to slow.
He didn’t want to let go. Ever. Except. He scanned the ceiling above, catching the widening gap where the main loft header met the original oak.
The building wasn’t done moving. “No time for the four-by-fours.” Ryan guided her toward the center aisle, his eyes never leaving the stressed timber above.
“We’ll just put up some two-by-fours for now.
Just enough to stabilize this till morning when things can be done right.
” Fury burned through the adrenaline. He looked at the red circles Nicole had drawn, the vivid wax mocking the silver heads of the sheared screws.
“When I see George and Jet, I’m going to string them both up by their boot heels. ”
Nicole nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Yeah. I think he skipped the lag bolts on the header too.”
“I see it now.” Ryan reached into his pocket and flipped his phone open. His thumb hovered over the speed dial for Morgan. He needed more hands, more wood, and he needed them before the whole damn building became a pile of toothpicks.
Wincing, Nicole tried to stand.
“Take it easy.”
“I’m fine.”
“You just had a wall fall on you. I’m not sure fine is an appropriate word.
” Not willing to let go of her, he kept one arm firmly wrapped around her as he lifted his phone to his ear with his other hand, slowly inching away from the debris.
He had to get her out of this danger zone, somewhere safe.
Then he and his brothers could shore up whatever could be salvaged.
Pressing the button, the call connected. “How’s Duke?”
“Outside. Listen. We need every able bodied brother, and every two-by-four in the staging shed, and the heavy jacks.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Those idiots completely compromised the structure. We got the horses out, but one wall collapsed, trapping Nicole.”
“What?” Morgan shouted loud enough to be heard without a phone. “Is she all right? Do I need to call Adam?”
“She’s okay. Dusty but okay. We’ll call Adam later. Right now, this building won’t hold till morning. We’ve got to shore up the loft or the whole damn thing could come down.”
Morgan let out a sound that sounded something between a moan, sigh, and growl. “Got it.”
The sound of chairs moving and scraping against polished wood floors reached Ryan through the phone. He could hear his other brothers murmuring in the background, his Uncle Sean could be heard spouting orders.
From where he and Nicole stood, slowly inching their way over the mounds of debris, the creaking continued overhead.
He prayed they weren’t going to lose the roof.
“You’d better…” Ryan didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence, another sonic crack sounded in warning, like a snow cliff before an avalanche.
No time to run, or to hide. Throwing himself over Nicole, his arms wrapping around her, he did his best to cover her entire body with his.
Another crack and a heavy weight knocked the phone from his hand, the screen glowing a mocking blue in the distance.
Shooting pains stabbed at his back, the roaring sound drowning out Morgan’s words. “Ryan? Ryan! Answer me!”