Chapter 9
An hour later, I’m still shivering with the violent cold in my bones. Lying on my couch with a thick, fuzzy blanket over me.
Pine River is the coldest water I’ve ever experienced, the kind of cold that hurts your teeth, gives you a headache, and feels like sharp bites against your skin.
Kit brings me a hot cup of peppermint tea, the heat instantly warming my aching, frozen fingers.
Relief rushes through me. Fox lies on my feet, keeping my toes warm, staring at me with worried eyes.
The steam wafting from the cup feels euphoric until I meet Kit’s eyes.
His rigid and icy gaze pins me down, pulling the warmth out of me.
My body sinks deeper into the leather couch while the crackle of the fireplace fills the deafening silence between us.
“You’re mad at me,” I murmur.
“I’m fucking furious at you, Sadie,” his blue eyes flare. A white long-sleeved Henley clings to his muscular torso, with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, distracting me. His navy Carhartt currently hangs near the fireplace. “Why can’t you just listen to me?”
“Would you have let the calf drown?” I argue.
He stares at me like he wants to set me on fire. “Yes.”
His answer stuns me. How could he be okay with letting an animal drown? “But—”
“Nothing is worth the life of a rancher,” he cuts me off. Sighing as he runs a hand over his face. I struggle to find the words to argue with him, staring at his abs clearly visible through his shirt. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I—I wasn’t,” I place the teacup on the side table. “I just couldn’t stand watching that poor baby drown.” And that’s the truth. Watching the calf struggling to keep its head above water reminded me too much of how I lost the person I loved the most—my mother.
Plus, I would do anything to save an animal. There’s no way I could have just stood by without trying.
“You put us both at risk today, Sadie.”
I lower my gaze, knowing he’s right. “I’m sorry.”
“I'm sorry, is not good enough,” he snaps, and I flinch at his tone. “You could have fucking died! I almost didn’t find you in time.”
“But you did,” I reach for him, grabbing his hand. “You saved me, and—”
He stands from the couch, pulling his calloused hand away. “I need to report this.”
“What?” My face drains of blood, feeling cold. “What do you mean?”
“This can’t happen again—”
“And it won’t,” I assure him.
He stares at me, cold and calculating. “I’m a Foreman, Sadie. It’s a part of my job to keep people safe on the ranch, and your reckless actions today when I clearly told you to stay—”
“Please, Kit,” I beg. Reporting me to Cole could ruin my job here.
It could destroy everything I’m trying to build in Aspen Hollow.
Safety must be really important to you, Cowboy.
Turns out it is.
He removes his Lone Pine ballcap, pacing around the room. “Animals die here all the time, and no, I’m never okay with it. But we don’t put each other at risk like that.”
All I can think to say is I’m sorry while my heart pounds in my chest, because he’s right… I put him at risk, and I’m sorry just isn’t good enough.
He stops pacing and faces me. “What if it happens again? What if someone else can’t get to you in time because you decide to do something stupid and impulsive?”
My heart caves at his words, like he’s physically punched me in the chest. He wants to report me to protect me, but in doing so, I could lose everything. Reckless people have no place working on such a well-known cattle ranch… but being here means everything to me.
I wanted to stay.
“I won’t,” I say, my voice shaking.
“Swear to me, Sadie.” He closes the space, placing his ballcap back on his head. Peering down at me. Warmth radiates between us. “Swear to me you’ll never be this reckless again.” His blue eyes pierce into mine.
“I swear,” I vow. “Please.”
He’s standing so close that his scent rushes through me, like fresh pine trees and rain. His eyes dart to my lips, and I wet them in response. “Fine,” he sighs, still staring.
The tension swells between us, and for a moment, I think he’s finally going to give in to this thing between us… but then a knock at the door sends my pulse racing.
Foxie barks at the abrupt sound.
“Who’s that?” I flinch, glancing at my handbag across the room where my handgun resides.
Who would be knocking at my door? How could he have found me already?
Kit sighs, making his way to the door. “I called a doctor.”
My mouth drops. “You, what?” A doctor would surely report my actions to Cole. I’m inevitably screwed.
But before I can reply or stop him from opening the door, Alaska steps through the threshold.
She looks at me in the same way I’m looking at her.
Confused. Wondering what the hell she’s doing here as she sways in the doorway.
Light snow brushes against her long wool coat, trailing to the wooden floors.
Foxie watches her with interest, staying near my heels.
“You called for me?” she asks, adjusting a large brown bag around her shoulders.
Kit points to me. “She fell into the river. Inhaled a lot of water into her lungs.”
“Oh,” Alaska’s face lights up with understanding. “How did she fall—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Kit grumbles.
I’m relieved that he’s keeping quiet, at least for now. Although saying I gallantly dove into the river to save a baby calf would’ve been better for my ego than just I fell like some clumsy idiot.
She focuses on me for a second before turning back to him. “Kit, I’m only a vet. An animal vet. She needs a—”
“Yeah, I know,” he interrupts. “But you’re the best we’ve got.”
Alaska hesitates, glancing between us.
“Please, I wouldn’t even ask…” his voice softens. “But I don’t have a lot of options right now. You’re the only one I trust. Can you just… do what you can?”
“Alright,” Alaska sighs, making her way towards me.
We sit on the couch, and Alaska pulls out a stethoscope from her bag, listening to the sounds of my heart for a moment before asking me to take deep breaths. I deeply inhale and exhale. In and out. In and out.
“There aren’t many corgis in town,” she murmurs.
I smile at Foxie, lying on the rug near the fireplace. “She’s a one of a kind. Just like me.”
Kit snorts at that, and I frown at him.
My chest feels tight with each breath. My bones still ache from the cold, but otherwise, I feel like Kit overreacted in calling her. There’s nothing wrong with me. I feel fine. However, the way Kit leans on the mantle of the fireplace, watching me with trained eyes, would say differently.
“You’re not worried about me, are you, Cowboy?” I tease, unable to help myself in this awkward situation.
He scowls at me.
Alaska clears her throat, breaking up the tension. “How long were you underwater?”
“About three minutes,” Kit answers for me.
She blinks in surprise. “You’re lucky to be alive,” she murmurs to me.
“Very lucky,” Kit glares at me.
“Seems a shame,” I glare right back. “Another minute and you wouldn’t of had to deal with me anymore.”
“Life’s not that kind to me, sadly,” he replies playfully.
I shake my head, smiling with the corner of my mouth, knowing that he doesn’t truly feel that way.
He’s done nothing but care for me since the incident. Carrying me home wrapped in his Carhartt while he wore nothing but a thin, long-sleeved Henley in a snowstorm. Making me peppermint tea. Asking me to never be reckless again—which is a hard promise to make for someone like me.
He hates it, but he cares about me.
“You were crying.”
“Excuse me?” His voice rises.
“You had tears streaming down your face.”
“From the river,” he growls. I smile, and Alaska smiles too, though I can tell she’s trying to remain neutral. “And the sleet.” A tinge of red forms beneath his cheekbones.
“The sleet, right.”
He deeply sighs, almost like a groan, shaking his head.
Alaska moves the stethoscope to my back, and I jolt. My entire body breaks out in a sweat.
“Sorry, it’s probably cold,” Alaska says, breathing hot air over the round silver part.
My leg starts to shake, and my palms begin to sweat as she moves towards me once more.
My teeth are ground so hard that my jaw aches.
Before she makes a connection between my shoulder blades, I rise abruptly from the couch.
“You know what, I’m all good. I don’t think this is necessary.
” My arms cross tightly against my chest. My eyes close briefly, trying to clear my mind of the trauma—the feeling of letting someone touch my back.
To let someone touch a part of me covered in scars.
I do not like being touched there.
Alaska eyes me wearily as something flashes across her face. Like she can read me better than she lets on, looking at me like she would a wounded animal.
Kit stares at me, confused. “Sadie, what’s wrong—”
“I think Sadie is going to be fine,” Alaska cuts in, rising from the couch, tucking her stethoscope back in her bag.
She turns to me with kind eyes. “Your heartbeat sounds strong, but your throat is very swollen. Tea and honey will help. Your complexion looks good. I can’t hear or see anything physically wrong, but you should get a chest X-ray to make sure. ”
“She will,” Kit gruffs.
More doctors. Great.
I sigh and nod to Alaska. “Sure thing.”
“Well, that’s all I can do.” She pulls her bag over her shoulder. “If you ever need a vet for Foxie,” she gestures to her, lounging near the fire. “I have a small office in town.”
“Thank you,” I smile. “I appreciate that.”
Kit gently grabs her arm as she approaches him near the door. “Thank you, Alaska. I owe you one.”
Alaska smiles with pink blush in her cheeks, whispering something in his ear before she leaves, and I can’t help but feel jealous for a fraction of a second before she heads out the door, back into the snow.
We stand there for a moment in the silence.
The fireplace crackles and creaks in the space between us. Foxie’s legs are now splooted out on the rug as she finds her happy spot, looking like a flying superhero. Kit assesses me, thoughtful and calculating, like he’s deciding what to do with me. My pulse races.