Chapter 10
Ripplan
I woke to pain that radiated through my entire body like someone had driven a spike through my calf and left it there to rust. Not the sharp, immediate agony of the bite.
That had been like a hammer to the bone, sudden and vicious.
This was different. Deeper. A throbbing ache that started in my calf and radiated up through my thigh, settling into my hip with the weight of something permanent.
My head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton and then beaten with a club. My mouth was dry, my tongue thick. My body felt heavy and sluggish, like I'd been drinking all night and woken up to the consequences of my own stupidity.
But there was something else cutting through the fog and the pain.
A taste on my tongue that lingered like a ghost. Sweet and intoxicating, like honey and spice mixed together in a way that made no sense.
I couldn't place it, couldn't understand where it had come from, but it was there, and it made something in my chest pull tight.
I turned my head slowly because even that small movement made the world tilt and spin. The canvas ceiling of the tent swam into focus, then the bedroll beneath me, and finally her.
Tammy lay curled up beside me, her hand resting over my heart like she'd fallen asleep watching my pulse.
Her hair was loose, falling across her face in soft waves that caught what little light filtered through the canvas.
Her breathing was deep and even, peaceful in a way that made something in my chest clench hard.
She looked exhausted. There were shadows under her eyes, and her clothes were rumpled, stained with sweat and antiseptic.
But she was here. Right here. Close enough that I could feel the warmth of her body radiating against mine, close enough that I could smell the scent of her skin beneath the lingering smell of medical supplies and rain.
And something else. Something sweeter. Warmer. A scent that made my pulse quicken despite the pain, despite the exhaustion weighing down my limbs like lead.
I breathed in deeper, trying to place it, and my body responded before my mind could catch up. Heat pooled low in my belly. Every nerve ending seemed to come alive at once, straining toward her like she was the only thing that mattered.
It smelled like arousal. Hers.
I froze, my thoughts stumbling over themselves.
That couldn't be right. She'd been up all night taking care of me, making sure I didn't die from the venom coursing through my system.
She'd been worried. Terrified, even. I'd seen it in her eyes during the brief moments of clarity I'd had, seen the fear she was trying so hard to hide.
There was no way she'd been aroused while nursing me through a medical crisis.
I had to be imagining things. The venom had scrambled my brain, left me grasping at sensations that weren't real, at phantom scents that my desperate, fevered mind had conjured up out of nothing.
She'd sat up all night caring for me, and here I was, my body responding like some kind of animal in rut.
I forced myself to look away, to focus on the canvas ceiling, on the sound of rain still pattering against the fabric outside.
Anything but her. Anything but the way my body was reacting to her presence, the way every instinct I had was screaming at me to pull her closer, to bury my face in her neck, to taste her skin and find out if she tasted as good as she smelled.
She'd saved my life. The least I could do was not be a complete bastard about it.
So I lay there, watching her sleep, and tried to ignore the way my chest felt too tight and my thoughts felt too tangled.
Tried to ignore the way every instinct I had was screaming at me to pull her closer, to bury my face in her neck, to taste her skin and find out if she tasted as good as she smelled.
She stirred a few minutes later. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, she just looked at me. Then her gaze sharpened, and she sat up quickly, her hand leaving my chest.
"You're awake." Her voice was soft, careful. "How do you feel?"
"Like I got trampled by the herd." I tried to sit up, but the movement sent a fresh wave of pain through my leg. I hissed through my teeth and fell back against the bedroll.
"Don't move." She was already reaching for her medical bag, pulling out supplies. "You need to stay still."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You were bitten by a six-foot rattlesnake less than twelve hours ago."
"Feels like longer."
"I'm sure it does." She knelt beside me, her hands gentle as she checked my pulse, my temperature. Her touch was clinical, professional. But there was something in her eyes that looked like worry.
"What did you give me?" I asked. "Last night. What kind of meds?"
She paused, her fingers still on my wrist. "Anti-venom. Antibiotics. Pain medication."
"That's it?"
"That's it." Her voice was steady, but she wouldn't quite meet my eyes.
"Do any of them leave a sweet taste on the tongue?"
Her face went red. Bright, vivid red that spread from her cheeks down her neck. She pulled her hand back and busied herself with her bag, fumbling with supplies.
"Tammy."
"It's probably just residual effects from the medication. Or dehydration. I'll get you some water."
She was lying. I could see it in the way her fingers trembled, the way she wouldn't look at me.
But I didn't push. Didn't know how to push.
Because the truth was, I didn't remember.
And whatever had happened, whatever had put that taste on my tongue and that blush on her face, I wasn't sure I wanted to know.
Not yet.
"Let me see the wound," she said, her voice brisk now. Professional.
I nodded and let her pull back the blanket. She'd cut my jeans up to mid-thigh, and the bandage she'd wrapped around my calf was clean and white. She unwrapped it carefully, her fingers gentle, and I watched her face as she examined the bite.
Her eyes widened. "This looks surprisingly good."
"Good?"
"Better than it should." She leaned closer, her brow furrowed. "The swelling's down significantly. The discoloration is fading. There's no sign of infection."
"Told you I'd be fine."
"You're not fine." She looked up at me, and there was something in her eyes. Confusion, maybe. Relief. "The venom from a Western diamondback doesn't just disappear overnight even with anti-venom."
"Maybe I'm tougher than you thought."
"Maybe." But she didn't sound convinced. She reached into her bag and pulled out another vial of anti-venom. "I'm giving you another dose. Just to be safe."
I didn't argue. Just watched as she prepared the syringe, her hands steady now, her focus absolute. She gave me the shot, then re-bandaged the wound with the same careful touch.
"Your leg is still swollen," she said. "But it's much better than last night. And your other symptoms, the nausea, the fever, the sweating, they seem to be gone."
"So I'm good to get back to work."
"Are you out of your damn mind?"
"Tammy—"
"No." She looked at me, and there was steel in her eyes. "You're not getting back on a horse. You're not herding cattle. You're not doing anything except resting."
"I can't just sit on my ass—"
"Yes, you can. And you will." She crossed her arms. "You have two choices, Ripplan. You can ride in the wagon with Cookie, keep your leg propped up, and let it heal properly. Or I can call in the helicopter and have them take you back to the ranch."
I stared at her. "You're serious."
"Completely."
"I'm not leaving."
"Then you're riding in the wagon, though you really should go back to the ranch where you—"
"I'm not leaving you up here alone."
The words came out sharper than I intended, and I saw her blink, surprised. But I didn't take them back. Couldn't.
Because the thought of leaving her, of going back to the ranch while she stayed up here with the herd at the mercy of horny, flirty ranch hands and God knew what else, made my chest tight with something that felt a lot like panic.
"I'm not alone," she said carefully. "There are over thirty ranch hands here. Cookie. Xrylen. I'm perfectly safe."
"You were almost bitten by a rattlesnake."
"You were bitten by a rattlesnake. Because you threw yourself in front of me to keep me from being bitten."
"Exactly. And I'm not leaving you up here so something else can try."
We stared at each other. The tent was quiet except for the sound of rain still pattering against the canvas. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted, and I could see the pulse beating in her throat.
And then, just for a second, I saw something. Felt something.
A flash of memory. Or maybe a fantasy. I didn't know.
Her taste. Her scent. The sound of her voice, breathless and desperate, saying my name.
My hands on her skin. Her body arching beneath me. The way she'd looked at me like I was everything.
I didn't know if it was real or if my fever-addled brain had conjured it up. But it felt real. God, it felt real.
And I wanted it to be.
"Ripplan?" Her voice was soft, uncertain.
I blinked, and the image was gone. But that sweet taste lingered on my tongue, and the ache in my chest had nothing to do with the snakebite.
"I'll ride in the wagon," I said finally. My voice was rough. "But I'm not leaving."
She nodded slowly. "Okay."
"Okay."
We kept staring at each other. Neither of us moved. Neither of us looked away.
And then her eyes filled with tears.
"I was scared," she whispered. "Really scared. I thought—" Her voice broke. "I thought we were going to lose you."
The words hit me harder than the venom had. Harder than anything.
"I'm okay," I said. "I'm right here."
"You shouldn't be. You should be—" She shook her head, and a tear slid down her cheek. "You felt so much worse than you let on, didn't you?"
I didn't answer. Didn't need to. She could see it in my face.
"You stubborn ass," she said, but there was no heat in it. Just exhaustion. Just relief.
I reached up and brushed the tear away with my thumb. Her skin was soft, warm. And the way she leaned into my touch, just slightly, just enough, made my chest ache.
I wanted to kiss her. Wanted it so badly I could barely stand it. Wanted to pull her down beside me and taste her mouth and figure out if this sweet taste was real or just a fever dream.
But I didn't. Because she'd just spent the night keeping me alive and because I didn't know what the hell I was doing or what any of this meant.
So I just let my hand fall away and watched as she took a shaky breath and stood.
"I need to get you some food," she said quickly. "You need to keep your strength up."
"Tammy—"
"I'll be right back."
She left before I could say anything else. The tent flap fell closed behind her, and I was alone.
I lay there in the dim light, listening to the rain, feeling the ache in my leg and the ache in my chest and that sweet taste still lingering on my tongue.
And I admitted the truth I'd been avoiding since the moment I'd lifted her onto Starlight.
I was falling for her.
And I had no idea what the hell I was going to do about it.