Suddenly Reunited. Loree Lough
A slight flush colored her cheeks. “It’s nothing. Really. I clunked my head when I fell.”
She stopped talking so suddenly, Drew wondered if maybe something had stuck in her throat. “When you fell?”
Her smile faded and she stepped out of the embrace, leaving a cold, empty space where her warmth had been. “Wait a minute,” she began pensively, a forefinger in the air, “I think you’re right, Drew.” Brow furrowed, she began to pace. “I think…I think it was me who took Triumph out. I seem to remember—”
She slumped, trembling, onto a kitchen chair. Her lower lip began to quiver, the way it always did when she fought tears.
Drew got down onto one knee, turned her to face him. “Shh,” he soothed, “it’s okay.” He pulled her close. “You’re okay, and Triumph is a big strong critter. He’s no worse for the wear. I’ll go out in a bit and give him a good brushing.”
Tears were swimming in her eyes when she looked into his. “But…but it’s my responsibility. How could I have forgotten something as important as that?” She bit her bottom lip, then glanced toward the window, shaking her head. “I—I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Drew.”
She grabbed his shoulders. “How long do you think he’s been out there like that?”
He shrugged, torn between comforting her and protecting himself from whatever her lawyer had put her up to. “Couple of hours, from the looks of things.”
She sighed heavily. “Poor thing, standing around in that heavy saddle all this time, all dirty and sweaty. He must think I don’t give a hoot about him!”
Drew tugged off his gloves, tossed them onto the table and moved her hair aside to get a better look at the injury. “Shoo-ee. That’s some goose egg you’ve got there.”
“That’s what Troy said.”
“Troy?”
She nodded. “He picked me up on Highway 2-12, although I honestly don’t remember how I got there.”
Drew decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. She deserved that much. It had hurt like crazy when she’d given him that tongue-lashing the night she walked out. It wasn’t the angry words; nothing she said could ever be as painful as the plain fact that she’d left.
Comforting Gabrielle won out in the battle between protecting her or protecting himself. “Shh,” he said again. “You had a bad fall. That’s the beginning and the end of it.”
As though she hadn’t heard him, Gabrielle said, “Never stopped me from doing my job before.”
“Why are you always so hard on yourself? It wasn’t your fault Triumph threw you.” Lovingly, he tucked her hair behind her ears. “What made him buck?”
She rolled her eyes in frustration. “I’ve tried and tried to remember. Near as I can tell, a snake spooked him. When I came to, there was a dead—”
“Gabby!” Drew interrupted, giving her a gentle shake. “A rattlesnake?” He made a move as if to begin inspecting her, starting with her fingers.
“Relax, Drew,” she said, smiling sweetly. “From the looks of things, Triumph pounded that snake into the dust long before he had a chance to do either of us any harm.” A little giggle popped from her lips. Cuddling both of his hands beside her cheeks, she tilted her head to add, “My hero!”
“Joke all you want,” Drew said, standing. “I’m just relieved you’re all right.”
Sighing, Gabrielle got to her feet, too.
“What’re you doing?” he asked, as she headed for the stove.
“Turning down the oven so I’ll have time to take care of Triumph before supper,” she said. As if to punctuate the statement, Gabrielle staggered, and reached out for something to steady herself.
Drew let himself be that “something.” And once she’d regained her balance, he took her hand in his. “Come over here where the light is better,” he said, leading her to the window.
“Yes, Doctor,” she said lightly.
But Gabrielle followed, he noted, and stood quietly as he examined the lump, peered into her eyes. “Your pupils are so dilated I can barely tell what color your eyes are.” He headed for the door. “Get your coat. We’re going to the emergency room.”
She emitted a little gasp that made him want to wrap her in a reassuring hug.
“Don’t be silly,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I’m fine.”
You’re good, honey, he thought, real good. And if he didn’t know her better, he might just swallow that bowl of bravado she’d just dished out. But her usually rosy cheeks were pale, and there was a blue cast to her otherwise pink lips. He didn’t like the way she was weaving and bobbing around the kitchen like a boxer who’d given his all in the ring, either.
“I’m fine. Really.”
“How ’bout we let a doctor be the judge of that?”
“But Drew,” she protested, hanging back as he opened the door, “our romantic anniversary supper is almost ready. All I have to do is light the candles.” She glanced out the window. “And Triumph, he’s—”
He took a quick look around. Why hadn’t he noticed before that she’d set the dining room table with the good dishes and flatware? Why hadn’t he seen that she’d put the silver candlesticks in the middle of his grandma’s linen tablecloth? His heart swelled, knowing she’d gone to so much trouble for him—for them—in her condition.
But how had she accomplished it, swooning like a drunken sailor as she must have been? Stubbornness, he decided, doing his best to hide a grin.
“Besides,” she persisted, “the nearest hospital is an hour away, in Bozeman, and you gave the hands the day off, remember? So they could go to Oktoberfest? We can’t leave the Walking C unattended that long.”
Oktoberfest? But that was—
“We can,” he said, turning off the oven, “and we will.” He jammed the Stetson onto his head. “And I don’t want to hear another word about it.” He grabbed her fringed jacket from the peg behind the door and shook it a time or two, like a matador tempting a bull.
“How about a compromise?” she asked, as he helped her into it.
Drew held the door open, as she stepped onto the porch. The night she’d left, his inflexibility was just one of the things she’d claimed was driving her away. He remembered his prayer: if the Almighty would see to it that Gabrielle was home to stay, he’d do whatever it took to make everything up to her.
“What sort of compromise?”
“Take me to Livingston, instead, to see Doc Parker.”
“Okay,” he agreed, nodding. “That makes sense.” He touched a scolding finger to her nose. “But if he sees anything suspicious, anything at all, we’re heading straight to Bozeman.” Narrowing his eyes, he added, “Got it?”
She sent him a flirty half grin and kissed the tip of that finger. “Got it.”
Habit made him head for the pickup. And then he saw the car he’d bought the week before Gabrielle left him. He’d seen it on the lot weeks before the breakup and had thought how cute she’d look behind the wheel, how much easier it would be for her to get into and out of, especially when she got all gussied up in one of her short skirts and high heels….
Much to his surprise—and dismay—she’d taken one look at the vehicle and stomped into the house without saying a word. One week later, to the day, she left him…in that car.
More than likely, the doc would confirm Drew’s suspicion that Gabrielle had suffered a concussion. How mild or severe was yet to be seen, but getting into and