Читать книгу Rancher's Covert Christmas - Beth Cornelison - Страница 13

Chapter 3

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Erin gasped her shock and concern as the handsome ranch hand crashed to the frozen ground. If his guttural shout left any doubt to his injury, the odd angle of his leg did not.

She clapped a hand over her mouth as a wave of nausea roiled through her at the gruesome sight. Zane abandoned her bags and brushed past her as he rushed to aid his friend.

“Call 9-1-1!” he yelled to no one in particular.

Pulling her glove off with her teeth, Erin fumbled her cell phone from her purse and tapped in her security code with a trembling finger. She squinted at the screen, trying to make out the image against the glare of the winter sun. Her signal reception was weak at best.

Josh hustled past her. “Landline’s more reliable. I’m on it.”

As Zane’s brother ran toward the main house, Erin faced Zane and Dave again, her heart in her throat. Surely she could do something to help. Yanking her knit scarf from under the collar of her coat, she balled the scarf as she dropped to her knees across from Zane. “Here,” she said, handing him the messily folded neckwear. “Put this under his head.”

A pillow may be a small thing under the circumstances, but she had little else to offer at the moment. And standing idly by while the cowboy suffered was not her style. Action was her go-to mode, and her brain was ticking through more options for the crisis, even as Zane tucked the knit scarf under Dave’s head.

As if sensing something was amiss, the dogs barked and paced the yard. When the black-and-white dog tried to nose in next to him, Zane pushed the dog back. “No, Ace. Lie down.”

The foreman and Brady appeared at the door of the barn across the yard.

“What happened?” Brady called as he trotted toward them.

“Ladder collapsed. Dave broke his leg, maybe more,” Zane returned in a clipped, efficient tone, despite his obvious worry. With a wave of his hand, he directed the father and son to, respectively, fetch someone named Helen and to go to the end of the driveway to flag down the ambulance when it arrived.

Zane’s take-charge leadership impressed Erin, as well as the way that the other men followed his directives without demurring. Zane’s father had indicated as much, as well. Though the McCall siblings and Brady Summers were equal partners in McCall Adventure Ranch, Zane was the gatekeeper, it seemed.

Zane held one of the injured man’s hands, letting Dave squeeze his fingers as he writhed and groaned. “Stay still, buddy. I know it hurts. Help’s coming.”

Seeing Dave’s other hand at his side, his fingers clenched in a tight ball, Erin lifted his fist into her lap. Cupping his fist between her palms, she stroked his taut knuckles with her thumb and muttered, “Hang in there, cowboy.”

Zane’s gaze darted to her, then dropped to her comforting gesture as Dave loosened his balled fingers to grip her hand.

“Thanks,” Dave rasped, casting a quick side glance to her before scrunching his eyes closed in pain. His breathing was shallow and rapid, and she didn’t need to be a nurse to know hyperventilating was not what Dave needed.

“Hey, Dave,” she said, jostling his hand to get his attention. “Will you try something with me?”

Both Zane and Dave peered at her with curious looks.

“You need to calm your breathing, so I thought we could do some yoga breathing together. Will you do it with me?”

The injured cowboy furrowed his brow and stared at her with shock in his eyes. “Yoga?”

Though Zane’s expression was equally leery, she could see his concern for his friend outweighed his skepticism. “What do you have in mind?”

She fixed her gaze on Zane and his stunning blue eyes sent a tremor through her. With her host’s penetrating gaze on her, she needed the relaxation technique as much as Dave. “Calming breaths. You do it with us.”

Dave scoffed quietly between gasps and grunts.

Patting his hand firmly, she directed him to inhale with her as she counted two beats in her head. “Now exhale slowly for four seconds.”

The cowboys both blew their breaths out through their mouths.

“Through your nose, gentlemen. You’re not having a baby, you’re trying to relax.”

Her comment earned her odd looks from both men, but they followed her example as she inhaled again and let her exhale draw out twice as long. “Now inhale for three seconds and exhale for six.”

Dave’s demeanor calmed, his hyperventilating quieted, and Erin’s pulse slowed, too...so long as she didn’t look into Zane’s piercing eyes. Meeting his celestial-blue gaze was a bit like staring at the sun. Doing so for too long was risky, as if he could sear something deep inside her with his laser-bright stare.

She continued walking them through the one-to-two breathing ratio for a couple of minutes until Josh ran back across the ranch yard and skidded to a stop beside them.

“Ambulance is on the way,” Josh said as he spread a heavy blanket that he’d brought out over Dave. Josh was panting from exertion and stress, and his tense energy and ragged breaths distracted her students.

Erin felt the tension reenter Dave’s grip as his eyes darted to Josh, and she saw the muscles in the injured man’s jaw flex as he gritted his teeth. She snapped her fingers in front of Dave’s eyes and, with a nudge of his chin, brought his attention back to her. “Right here, cowboy. Focus on me.”

He gave her a pained grin and rasped, “My pleasure. You’re a...heap prettier than either of these...chumps.”

“Thank you. Now, less talking and more slow breathing, friend.” She flashed him a bright smile, and from her peripheral vision, she noticed the frown that Zane divided between them.

Dave followed her directions for a couple more breaths, then with another thin grin that reflected his agony, he added hoarsely, “Any chance I could...repay you for your kindness?” He paused to drag in another breath. “Dinner sometime maybe?”

Now Zane’s whole body tensed, his brow forming a deep V as he sent the hand a hard look.

“Why, you flirt!” She sent the injured man a wink. Anything that helped distract him from his pain was acceptable in her book. “I just might have to take you up on that.”

“What about Helen?” Josh said, and Zane arched a raven eyebrow and cocked his head as if to say, Yeah, what he asked.

“Helen?” She gave him a scolding pout.

The ranch hand grimaced, clearly from his excruciating pain rather than the shame of being caught out. He gulped a couple shallow breaths. “It wouldn’t be...a date, so what’s...wrong with it?”

She gave him a disapproving grunt, then tapped his nose with her finger. “Through your nose. Let’s start again. Three-second inhale...”

Her coaching was interrupted again as a woman’s distress cry reached them through the chill air. Erin and the men all turned to look toward the back of the main house where the foreman appeared with a young woman wearing a stained apron and no coat. She ran toward them, calling, “Dave! Oh, my God, Dave!”

Erin scooted aside to allow the sobbing woman access to the ranch hand, though she hated the fact that the woman was clearly upsetting Dave again. She glanced at Zane, meaning to send him a silent message with her facial expression.

As if sensing her attention, Zane raised his head, his gaze clashing with hers. She indicated her concern over the woman’s effect on the patient with a twitch of her brow and quick side glance. Zane gave her the merest of nods, then put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Helen, calm down. Help is coming. Right now, we have to keep him comfortable and breathing deeply.”

“Dave,” Erin said, gaining the hand’s attention again. “With me. Inhale...” She demonstrated the technique again while Helen watched. “Can you keep him going?” she asked Helen and the young woman nodded, though her eyes spoke for her distress. Then to Dave, Erin said, “No hyperventilating, cowboy. Concentrate on your breathing.”

Dave gave a nod, his jaw clenched and his complexion a worrisome gray.

Having passed the distraction and deep breathing reins to Helen, Erin pushed to her feet and backed away from the huddle of bodies around Dave. She considered taking her luggage inside, but since she’d not yet officially been shown in to her accommodations at the guesthouse, that seemed presumptuous.

Besides, her curiosity was sparking.

The ranch has had a string of incidents, with evidence of sabotage that have hamstrung our operations, crippled us financially.

Her client’s words replayed in her head and his word choice stirred a disquiet in her gut as she glanced back at Dave. Though Josh’s back currently blocked her view of the ranch hand’s broken leg, the grisly image of Dave’s twisted shin was burned on her brain.

With a furtive glance toward the ranchers, she sidled over to the collapsed stepladder and studied the rails, the spreader, the bolts. What had happened to the ladder? A simple slip by the hand or something more sinister? She toed a bent piece of aluminum and searched the ground for the screws that should have attached the loose support bar to the legs of the ladder. Casting her gaze around her feet, she searched the ground for the failed bit of hardware. Finding a rusted screw lying in two pieces beneath the branches of the spruce tree, she stooped to gather the bits. Then hesitated.

If this did prove to be sabotage and not just the failure of an ancient screw, she should leave the evidence untainted for the police. She straightened and backed away from the ladder, but slid her phone back out of her pocket.

With another glance behind her to make sure her actions were not being watched, she quickly snapped a few pictures of the fallen ladder and the rusty pieces of the broken screw. Repocketing her phone, she edged back toward the injured cowboy, making mental notes about who was present and their reactions to the incident. She would be having a private meeting with her client tonight, and she already had something to report.

Seeing that she’d left the cluster, Zane stood and approached her.

“Hardly the welcome to the ranch I’d have planned.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and drew his mouth into a grim line.

“And not one I’d have expected. I’m sure this isn’t the kind of excitement McCall Adventure Ranch had in mind for customers.” She placed a hand over her chest. “My heart is still thumping.” And it bumped even harder when Zane stepped closer, his gaze intense.

“Thank you for your help. I’m not sure I’d have known what to do if he’d passed out or...” He waved a hand, his thought unfinished as he cut a glance back toward the injured man. A frown dented his brow and he started unbuttoning his coat. He shrugged out of the fleece-lined jacket and walked over to drape it around Helen’s shoulders. Helen turned a pixie-like, tearstained face up to his and gave him a brief smile of thanks. Zane’s gentlemanly gesture touched Erin.

“So chivalry isn’t dead,” she said to him as he returned.

He gave her a brief puzzled look, then shrugged his actions off. “She needed a coat. I gave her mine. No biggie.”

But to Erin his thoughtfulness was telling, as was his modesty. She’d learned through her work, through her life-changing moments, that people can say who they are until they are blue in the face. But actions were the real evidence of character. This was why she typically avoided pre-researching people. She didn’t want preconceived notions to jade her observations of people in action. Body language. How they reacted to questions and events...

Zane divided a concerned look between her and the fallen hand. Clearly he was torn between his duty as host and his friend’s well-being. Rubbing his hands on his jeans, he started toward her suitcases. “Anyway...let me get you settled—”

The distant wail of a siren reached them, yanking his attention toward the highway and the Double M’s long gravel driveway.

She put a hand on his arm. “You go meet the ambulance. I can see myself in.”

“I—”

“Zane.” She squeezed harder on his wrist and could feel the steady thump of his pulse under her fingers. A jolt of something hot and unnerving skittered from his skin through her fingers and throughout her body when his eyes connected with hers. She’d have to get over her unsettling fascination with his breathtaking eyes if she was going to keep her head as she worked with him in the coming days. She paused a beat, regaining her composure, before she slanted a half grin toward him and bent to gather her luggage for herself. “Go on. I’ve got this.”

She turned and headed for the guesthouse door.

“Erin.” The sexy timbre of his voice slid over her like a lover’s caress. She stopped. Faced him, trying to pretend his voice didn’t weaken her knees.

He reached into his pocket, then extended his hand to her. As he walked closer, gravel and ice crunched under his boots. “You’ll need this.”

A silver key winked in the sunlight at her. “Oh,” she muttered as she lifted it from his callused palm. “Thanks.” The metal was still warm from being nestled in his pocket near his body heat.

He ducked his head in a nod, and the corner of his mouth tugged in a strained smile. “Let me know if I can do anything to help you get settled.”

With an appreciative nod, Erin let herself in the guesthouse and left her bags in the first bedroom down the hall. Moving to the front window, she parted the curtains, allowing her to keep watch for the arrival of the emergency vehicles. Would the police come? Or was the incident being viewed as accidental by the ranch staff?

If she made too much of an issue about the broken ladder, she’d call unwanted attention to herself, raise questions. Instead she pulled out her phone and texted her client, Zane’s father. He needed to know what had happened and that she advised he have the police look at the scene before it was disturbed. Within seconds of her text, her phone chimed with Michael McCall’s reply that he was on his way to the scene.

Erin pocketed her phone and returned to her suitcases to hang up a few clothes, set out her toiletries and plug her laptop in to charge, all the while wishing she were still out in the yard helping, observing. She needed to maintain her cover, but for such a tragic incident to happen within minutes of her arrival...

She just couldn’t believe it was coincidence. Her gut told her it was no accident. She thought hard about exactly what had happened prior to the ladder collapse. Who had been present? What had transpired? She’d met Brady Summers, Zane’s brother-in-law. And the foreman, also last name Summers. Some relation to Brady? Zane hadn’t said, but she’d wager so. Hadn’t he called Brady “son” when he’d requested his help with the sick calf?

She replayed that scene in her mind’s eye. Brady had put off the foreman at first. That would indicate no preconception about the state of the ladder. And Dave had climbed right on. To his detriment. Josh and Zane had been involved with greeting her. She couldn’t fairly make an assessment there. Had she not arrived when she did, would one of them have been climbing the faulty ladder? And was all this speculation just that? Seeing trouble and misconduct where none existed? The ladder was clearly old. Rusted in more places than the screws. Maybe the worn-out equipment was just an accident waiting to happen and Dave had drawn the short straw.

The wail of approaching emergency vehicles and rumble of engines drew her back to the window. An older man with black hair like Zane’s had joined the men standing around Dave. Michael McCall? As the vehicles pulled up, the older man walked over to an attractive brown-haired woman of approximately the same age and wrapped her in a comforting hug. Zane’s mother?

Erin didn’t linger in the guesthouse any longer. While getting in the way during an emergency would be bad form for a visiting travel writer, she really wanted to have a firsthand, up-close view of the proceedings. A sheriff’s department SUV was among the arriving vehicles, and she really wanted to observe the handling of the incident, since Michael’s chief reason for hiring her was his discontent with the way the local law enforcement had essentially shrugged off previous incidents of vandalism on the ranch. Or so Michael felt. Maybe there had truly been little the sheriff could do, too little evidence to make an arrest. Michael didn’t buy that reasoning and that scenario seemed sketchy to Erin, as well. How hard had they tried to find the person sabotaging the Double M?

Snagging her coat off the back of the communal area’s couch where she’d discarded it minutes ago, Erin headed back outside. She kept to the perimeter of the gathered crowd, edging closer to the site of the broken ladder.

Initial efforts of the first responders were, understandably, getting Dave stabilized and into the ambulance. Zane approached one of the sheriff’s deputies and pointed to the fallen ladder, spread his hands, shook his head. Oh, to be a fly on the...deputy’s hat?

Erin rolled her eyes at her broken idiom and noticed presumably Michael break away from presumably his wife to join Zane’s conversation with the deputy. Michael’s jaw was taut. When the deputy said something with a lift of his shoulder, Michael’s eyes hardened, and he made an angry gesture toward the rubble of the ladder.

Zane placed a hand on presumably his father’s shoulder and said something that was answered with a head shake and grim, tight-lipped expression from the older man. The older woman joined them and apparently encouraged Michael to step aside. “Let Zane handle it, honey,” Erin overheard the woman say, then garbled words and “...your blood pressure.”

She read on his lips the curse word that Michael loosed as Zane and the deputy stepped aside and his wife guided him away. As the older couple stepped to the edge of the crowd, Michael’s gaze drifted to Erin and stopped. He tensed, then softened his facial expression and gave her a tiny nod of acknowledgment. His wife noticed, and Erin saw the woman’s lips say, Who’s that?

Michael turned toward his wife to reply, and whatever he said had the woman towing him over to Erin, a warm smile of greeting on her lips. “Are you Erin Palmer, the writer?”

Erin stuck out her hand to the woman. “I am.”

“Melissa and Michael McCall. So nice to meet you.” Rather than shake her hand, Melissa folded Erin’s hand between her gloved palms and squeezed. “I’m so sorry that your welcome has been spoiled by this terrible accident.”

“No apologies, please. I’m just so sorry this happened. How is Dave?”

“Shocky,” Michael said, offering his hand.

Melissa dropped Erin’s fingers so that she could greet the patriarch of the family.

“But the EMT assures us he’ll be fine.” Erin gave the older man’s hand a firm shake as he continued. “Glad to meet you, Ms. Palmer. Zane says you were quite helpful in calming the patient earlier. Some sort of yoga breathing?”

She shrugged. “Mostly common sense. He needed not to hyperventilate, which was where he was headed, so I got him to refocus his thoughts and breathe deeper.”

“Don’t be modest, dear. That was a good thing you did. We thank you. Dave is like family to us.” Melissa patted Erin’s sleeve, and the maternal gesture flowed through Erin like warm honey. She immediately liked the woman, whose kind eyes and generous smile spoke of a gentle soul.

“Melissa and Michael McCall...” she said, tipping her head with a grin tugging her lips. “How very alliterative.”

Melissa chuckled. “Says the writer. Yes, we have plenty of Ms around here. That’s where the Double M got its name.”

Erin furrowed her forehead. “I thought the ranch had been in the family for several generations.”

Melissa gave a startled laugh. “Someone has been doing her research!” She sent her husband an impressed look before returning her gaze to Erin. When the mostly gray blue heeler nuzzled her hand, Melissa bent to stroke the dog’s head and scratch his ears. “The ranch was my family’s for close to fifty years before I inherited it when my father died. We renamed it the Double M at that time because I wanted Michael to feel he was included, that he belonged, that the ranch was truly his as much as mine.”

Michael jerked his head toward Melissa. “What? You told me you wanted to change the name because Rocking X sounded like a porn palace.”

Erin snorted a laugh and quickly covered her mouth to muffle her mirth.

“It did sound like a porn palace or house of ill repute!” Melissa fussed. “My mother thought so, too. It needed to change. And the Double M achieved both dignity and a sense of inclusion for you. Win-win.”

Michael touched his wife’s cheek. “Well done, love.” He gave her a peck on the lips. “Thank you.”

The clack of metal stretcher legs folding called their attention to the back of the ambulance. Dave was loaded in the patient bay, and Zane had to retrieve one of the dogs when it tried to jump into the ambulance with the stretcher.

Helen clambered in next to Dave before the back doors were slammed shut.

“Lord, take care of him. Give them both strength and peace,” Melissa said under her breath, then raised a worried look to her husband.

“Why don’t you follow the ambulance to the hospital?” Michael said quietly to his wife. “I’ll join you shortly, but I want to stay here as long as the sheriff is on the premises.”

Melissa gave him a long, anxious stare. “Will you behave? Let your sons talk to the deputies? I don’t need another emergency because your blood pressure spiked.”

The reminder of his medical condition clearly irritated the ranch owner, but he sighed, nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

“Thank you.” Melissa rose on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek before heading across the ranch yard calling, “I’m going to the hospital. Roy? Josh? Anyone want to ride with me?”

Michael shifted his body so that his back was to the rest of the people in the yard. “You saw the accident happen?”

“Sort of,” Erin said, matching his lowered volume. “I was talking to Zane at the time, and suddenly the ladder collapsed, and Dave was on the ground.”

“And you suspect foul play?” Michael lifted an eyebrow.

Erin shook her head. “Not necessarily. I just thought it wise for the police to photograph the scene, treat it as sabotage for the time being. Just in case. Considering the history of incidents here, it would be prudent.”

“I agree. Unfortunately, the deputy I talked to is not so convinced. I tried to argue the point and was sidelined by my family because I had a cardiac event a few years ago and am at risk of another because of my blood pressure.” He grumbled something under his breath, then said, “The best thing for my blood pressure would be to see this menace hanging over us solved, and the ranch put back on a profitable trajectory.”

“I’d like to go observe,” Erin said, casting a glance behind her client and seeing the deputies milling about the ladder debris. “We’ll talk later.” She offered her hand and said in a louder voice, “It was nice to meet you, Michael. Thank you for hosting me.”

He jerked a nod and stepped aside, and Erin eased closer to the area where the deputy was nudging the parts of the broken ladder with his toe.

“Um,” she said and cleared her throat, “aren’t you going to photograph the scene before you move pieces?”

The deputy raised his head and eyed her. “We only do that at crime scenes, ma’am. No evidence of a crime here.”

“And how do you know there was no crime if you don’t examine the broken parts and try to determine what happened?”

The deputy tucked his thumbs in his utility belt, puffed his chest out and narrowed a glare on Erin. “And who are you?”

“Guest of the ranch. Concerned citizen. Witness to the accident. Take your pick.” She tipped her head. “I’m available now if you are planning to interview the witnesses.”

“Again, no need. No crime to investigate.” He took a step toward her. “Unless you know something about what happened that you’d like to share. You have a reason to believe this was more than an accident?”

She flipped up a gloved palm. “Context. Past incidents of vandalism here. And, in my experience, ladders don’t typically just fall apart.”

The deputy bent to pick up the bits of the rusty screw she’d found earlier. “They do when the hardware holding ’em together rusts out this much. The ladder was old. Worn out. I don’t see enough here to warrant an investigation.”

She held the deputy’s stare. The hard slash of his mouth said clearly he was miffed that she’d questioned his professional judgment, but she didn’t back down. She was no stranger to crimes being brushed under a rug, investigations neglected because of political agendas and the influence of money.

She heard the crunch of boots on slush but didn’t take her eyes from the deputy.

“Is there a problem here?” Zane said, stepping up beside her and dividing a glance between her and the deputy.

“I was just offering to tell Deputy—” she shifted her gaze briefly to the man’s name tag “—Morton what happened. What I saw. But he indicated he wouldn’t be conducting interviews or investigating the cause of the accident, seeing that he has no reason to believe anything untoward happened here.” She didn’t try to hide her sarcasm, and she earned a scowl from the deputy and a puzzled look from Zane.

Morton cast a disgruntled look at Zane before returning his dark glare to her. “Thank you for your concern, ma’am,” he said tightly, his expression flinty. “I’ll be sure to contact you if we have any questions for you later. Good day.” He turned sharply on his heel and stalked away.

Zane watched the officer go for a moment before facing her with a crease in his brow. “What did I miss?”

“I was just expressing my concern to the deputy that they weren’t doing a more thorough investigation of what happened here.” She motioned to the broken ladder, then rolled her shoulders, releasing some of the tension that had knotted there as she’d confronted the deputy.

“I see.” His lips pressed into a thin line, and he glanced toward the departing squad car. “As I said earlier, I appreciate your help with calming Dave. But if I may be blunt, Ms. Palmer...”

His return to her surname told her all she needed to know about his mood, his opinion of her conversation with the deputy.

“The incident is not your concern, and I would ask that you not interfere. Our family needs to maintain a good working relationship with the sheriff’s department. We have other issues pending with them, and it would be counterproductive to antagonize Deputy Morton or any of the other officers.”

“Even if they aren’t doing their job?” she countered, belatedly realizing that she should have stifled her knee-jerk reaction.

“Not your business,” he repeated calmly, though she could see the tick of the pulse in his throat and the twitch of muscles in his jaw.

She blew out a cleansing breath and gave him a nod. If she wanted to do her job properly, she had to try to maintain objectivity and not let her hot-button issues color the facts. She’d only just arrived, and she had far too much fact-gathering and observing left to do. Getting on Zane’s wrong side would be a mistake.

Rancher's Covert Christmas

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