Chapter Nine
Throwing all my gear into the bed of the supply truck, I grunt.
I’m toeing the line of disrespect, and I know it.
Ending up like Grady doesn’t sound fun, but damnit, I’m me.
I’ve always defended myself, taken care of myself.
Me and I alone. I smack my hands on my chaps and head over to get Blaze.
She’s done way better than I have at adjusting here.
She seems happy. That’s a good thing. Can I get some of that calm, cool and collected to rub off on me for hell’s sake.
I could put my defenses away. I know he didn’t mean to knock me over.
But for the love of Pete—that fuckin’ hurt when I landed.
And I had to be a jerk about his belly button, because if I didn’t, I was gonna get caught.
Shirtless cowboys? Usually just plain or too skinny.
My boss? When I looked at him, I felt a burn between my thighs that I haven’t felt, ever.
I could’ve eaten him for breakfast. He looked big with clothes on, sure—without?
Shoulders, chest, arms, abs…I never thought I was so shallow.
Not until that moment. If there was ever a perfect-looking man—I found him.
My thoughts are racing through my head when I hear his deep timbre drawl, “Can I have a word?” I wait until he’s right up next to me before I shift to face him.
“Sure, boss. Spit it out so I can get my horse ready.”
“I want a truce. You forgive me for calling you a hardass and I’ll forgive you for being a smart-mouth. Then we can make it up this mountain by tomorrow without all the extra bullshit. How does that sound?”
“Fine.” I spit the one syllable out, my chin and nose tilting a little higher.
“Fine?”
“That’s what I said—fine.”
He takes my chin between his fingers, his jaw hard when he says, “Fine—sir, you mean. You can call me boss, Chris—whatever the hell you want. But if we’re going to be friends, you can’t treat me like a doormat.”
I watch as he drops his hand and turns his back.
To hell with whatever else he said. Did I just hear his name for the first time?
On the application there wasn’t a damn clue who the actual man running the outfit was.
Just the man who was hiring me…Toby. When he called to give me the job, he never mentioned the boss’s name either.
Chris. I wonder if that’s short for Christopher?
Christian? Or maybe his mama just gave it to him that way?
Doesn’t matter though. I don’t know if I can call him by his government name.
Feels weird, above my pay grade for sure.
I’ve gotta start biting my damn tongue. I hurry and saddle Blaze.
If I lose my temper and my job, at least I’ll still have her.
I brought up the rear today, so I’m riding alone–ish. Brian is close by and we communicate now and then while we push the herd. Brian remains my favorite cowboy here. Those kind eyes make me feel welcome and accepted.
Chris’s eyes make me feel wanted though. Wait, what?! Where the hell did that fuckin’ come from?!
Don’t flatter yourself, Dixie. His eyes don’t want you. There's frustration and annoyance burning there, not desire. Boss…we only call him boss.
I’m in the middle of clearing my thoughts and admiring the landscape on this mountain when I hear him call to us, “We’ve only got a few more miles to the camp, but we’re going to stop for the day, we need to eat and water the horses!
” His voice echoes off whatever rocks and suddenly I hear some knocking each other as they fall.
Ravine. I quickly realize I’m walking dangerously close to the edge of a small cliff. It’s not so big we’d plunge to our death, but definitely big enough to get hurt…bad. I tug the reins and nudge Blazey girl to move left. But as she steps, the ground gives and we slip.
She whinnies and I can’t help but scream with her.
I clutch my legs to her, boots still in the stirrups.
Holding the reins, I try to help her up but it’s no use; we fall and roll off.
I get one foot out in time but the other gets caught, and my ankle twists before I can yank my foot out of my boot and dive over her.
Blaze hits an enormous boulder and I know she’s hurt too.
I’m on my back and we’re both clinging to the side of this fuckin’ thing while I choke back tears.
I shouldn’t have had my head in the clouds, I should've been paying attention. Now she’s hurt and my ankle is toast. I know the guys up there saw it happen, and the rest heard it.
But I’m not embarrassed because I’m too busy being logical.
We need help. I look down at my horse, talking to her below me, and promising that everything will be okay. It has to be okay.
“Blondie, reach up and give me your hand.” It’s the most steady voice I’ve ever heard. There’s no panic there. No hurry, no desperation. And my heart slows down just a little. I’m not capable of being steady on my own right now.
“Okay!” I shout, panting at the same time. “What about Blaze? She’s hurt!”
“We’re going to get her. Just reach up and I’ll pull.” He reassures me.
“My ankle’s twisted, maybe broken…” My words come out staggered with a deep breath between each.
“Use your good foot to push up and pull with your arms. I’ve got guys holding my legs.
” The ground is loose and I don’t want to push anymore dirt down on Blaze or make her fall further.
I look up to see his powerful hand and arm reaching for me.
He’s only a couple feet above me and I think I can do it.
There’s a sagebrush all around me, one bush close enough to grab.
Stretching my hand out, I cling to it as I flip myself onto my belly.
I lift my chin and his eyes are on mine.
I reach with my other hand and our palms lock.
With one arm he hauls me up to the top, then uses his other to grab the backside of my belt and pulls me onto the flat ground next to him.
I scramble onto my butt and bend my knee to look at my ankle.
It’s already swelling. I can tell even through my sock, as a sharp pain shoots through it.
As I’m selfishly panicking, a masculine hand comes around the back of my heel and another one pulls the top of my sock down.
“I don’t think it’s broken. There’s going to be more bruising though, and we’ll need to get it looked at.
Can you move it?” His tone is gentle and firm.
I try to move my ankle, but it hurts like hell. I wiggle it enough and he tells me that’s a good sign. “Probably just a sprain to beat all others.” Sudden realization comes flooding back as I reach out to clutch my boss’s shirt and pull him closer.
“Blaze! How are we gonna get her?”
I hear another voice behind me. “I’ve already called Search and Rescue. They’re sending a chopper along with the ground team. She’s going to be okay, Dixie.” Brian's hand is on my shoulder and I feel my chin quiver. This trip has been a shit-show.
Almost eaten alive by a cougar—check.
Fall off a cliff and get my horse stranded—check, check.
“Thank you. I swear I’ve never been, this much trouble in my life. I don’t know what the hell is going on with me, but I’m not making a very good first impression on the job.”
My boss clenches his jaw and growls, “You’re doing just fine, Dixie. It could’ve happened to any of us.” All I can do is nod my head and clear my throat to keep the emotion from consuming me. I think I’m fucked. If he doesn’t fire me today, it’ll be soon.
“Well…” I try to laugh. “Since I can’t walk, maybe the animal rescue can haul me down the mountain with my horse and ya’ll can have a good old time without us.”
“No.” Why do I sense that’s a hard no? My boss has his eyebrows narrowed as he considers his next words. He can’t keep me up here. I can’t ride, and Blaze can’t walk.
“Excuse me?”
“Excuse me, boss, you mean. I thought we discussed this. I’m taking you back.”
What? No way in hell I’m letting my boss take me back and be my nurse. “Fine. But you can take me to the nearest hospital and drop me off.”
“You’re staying at my place.”
“Fuck no.”
“Fuck yes. You’ll do what I say because you’re my responsibility, and I sign your paycheck. I was going back anyway once we got up there tomorrow. My buddy is the ER doc in town. I’ll call him and he can come out to the house, check on you, and tell us if we need to go in and get imaging done.”
“I need to see Blaze!” I completely disregard everything he just said as I flip to my knees and try to scramble around him to the edge, where I know I’ll be able to look down at my pretty painted palomino.
The adrenaline is still pumping through me, probably putting a damper on the pain receptors trying to tell me not to use my ankle.
“You shitting me, blondie?” He wraps his body around mine and yanks me back. “A few of the boys have already taken the side trail down to where she’s at and they’re making sure she’s okay. You can't walk.”
As soon as he’s said it, he’s lifting me in his arms and taking long, swift strides toward the chuck wagon pickup.
Sydney already has the door open when we get there and my boss sits me in the front passenger's seat. Apparently I’m too stunned to speak, because I just let him cart me off like a damsel in distress.
Shit. Am I a fuckin’ damsel in distress?
“I don’t have two busted ankles! I could’ve hobbled over here or used a stick or leaned on someone! You didn’t need to,” He cuts me off with the way his jaw hardens and his firm hand squeezes my knee.
“Didn’t need to do what? Pick you up and carry you over here? You think I wouldn’t have thrown Brian over my fuckin’ shoulders if it were him who got hurt? Don’t get it twisted, blondie.” I huff and jerk my knee, letting him know I want him to let go. He does.
Now I’m feeling even more unhinged. “You’d squeeze Brian’s knee the same way you just did mine?” I say with too much attitude.
“No, Dixie Wilder. I did that because you needed to feel for a second who’s in charge. Brian wouldn’t have spoken to me like that, and if he had, I would’ve cold-cocked him square in the jaw.”
He shifts his stance and brings his hand to cup my chin. I want to jerk away but I stay, even if it’s just to prove him wrong.
“But I can’t cold cock you in the jaw, blondie.
Know why? Because as much as you want to pretend you’re a rootin’ tootin’ cowboy—you have XX chromosomes, and that means I’m stronger than you by default.
Not to mention—I’m bigger than most. I could sit on you as easily as I picked you up, and there would be nothing you could do about it… ”
My mind triggers and I’m back there. On the ground, pinned.
No one can hear me, there’s a hand over my mouth and—goddamnit, I think I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen.
I pant. In and out, faster and faster. My vision starts to blur and close off—shrinking until there’s only a pinhole of light shining through.
“Dixie!” His voice echoes in the distance as I fade into oblivion.