Читать книгу Cowboy Fever - Joanna Wayne - Страница 10

“Viviana.” Dakota muttered her name and stared at the woman who’d haunted so many of his dreams. He was reeling, so stunned at seeing her that he had trouble getting his mind around what had just happened or even why he was here. His memory was jolted by a dizzying stab of pain when he reached to pick up her shoe.

“Who let the bulls out?”

Jim arrived on the scene with his usual rodeo flair, still in his trademark oversize red-and-black jersey and loose shorts. A bit of the clown makeup was still smeared around his eyes, though he’d wiped it off as best he could on the way over with his dirt-smeared bandana.

Viviana stiffened and her eyes signaled an increased anxiety level. “Who are you?”

“He’s a friend of mine,” Dakota said quickly. “We were driving to the E.R. entrance when we heard the commotion and I spotted you racing across the parking lot.” Dakota did a second visual scan of the area. There was no sign of trouble now, yet she’d screamed hysterically when he’d knelt beside her. And a car had just burned rubber leaving the lot.

“Name’s Jim Angle,” Jim said.

“I’m Dr. Mancini.”

Dakota steadied while she slid her foot back into her shoe. It was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and hold her tight. But too many months apart and the lingering sting of rejection made him hold back. Not to mention that it would start a barrage of questions from Jim.

“What just happened out here?” Dakota asked. “Were you attacked?”

“I was leaving work. When I got to my car, a man appeared from out of nowhere and pointed a pistol at me. He told me to get in.”

“Then what?” Jim asked when she stopped talking and started looking around the parking area.

“I threw my purse at him, punched him and started running.”

“You must have delivered one hell of a blow,” Jim said. “Man yelped like you’d gutted him. That’s actually what got our attention.”

“I rammed my key into his eyeball.”

Jim grinned. “A woman after my heart.”

She hugged her arms around her chest and shivered in spite of the warm summer air. Her gaze turned to the parking lot. “My car is gone. It was parked next to that SUV near the ambulance entrance.”

“Cars are replaceable,” Dakota said. She could have been killed. If he ever got his hands on the thug …

“Did you know the yellow-bellied bastard?” Jim asked.

“I’ve never seen the man before, at least not that I remember. A lot of patients come through the E.R.”

Dakota struggled to get his head around the emotions bucking inside him. In the best of circumstances, running into Viviana so unexpectedly would have been enough to throw him off his game.

Finally, he let his eyes meet hers. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am now. I think you may have frightened off the gunman, except that I guess what he really wanted was cash and my car. Now he has both.”

“Then lucky I made a wrong turn and came in the ambulance entrance,” Jim said.

Dakota scanned the area again. “Don’t you have security around here?”

“Yes, but they can’t be everywhere at once.”

“They could see you to your car when you leave in the wee hours of the morning.”

“I’ve never had any trouble before. This is normally a safe area.”

“Security can’t do anything now,” Jim said. “Call the cops. They may be able to find the low-down thief before he clears the area.”

“My phone is in my purse and I hurled that at the attacker. No doubt he took it with him.”

“Most likely,” Dakota agreed. “But we’ll check.

“I’ll take a look,” Jim said.

“Where are your keys?” Dakota asked.

“I’m not sure. They may have fallen to the floor of the car, or I may have just dropped them in my panic.”

Which meant the attacker could have her keys and possibly her purse with her ID. If so, he’d know where she lived.

Dakota’s muscles clenched. He took his cell phone from his pocket and handed it to Viviana.

Only instead of punching in 911, she made a call to a Detective Harry Cortez. Her conversation with the man was brief and to the point. Yet, he couldn’t help but wonder if her relationship with the man was business or pleasure.

By the time she finished the call, Jim had returned with her purse. “You’re in luck,” he said. “The purse was lying next to another parked car. Your keys were a few feet away. Guess he hotwired the vehicle.”

She took the bag from him. “Good. At least he doesn’t have my keys and personal information.”

“What do you keep in the glove compartment?” Dakota asked.

“Usually the car registration, but I just bought this car and all of the paperwork is in my house.”

“Is your detective friend coming over to investigate the situation?” Dakota asked as she returned the phone to him.

“Dirty Harry is not exactly a friend, but, yes, he’s on his way. He won’t be long. He just left the hospital a few minutes ago.”

Dirty Harry. He must be some tough cop. But what did she mean by “not exactly a friend”? That could mean anything. A mosquito buzzed around Dakota’s head. He reached up to slap it away, and his ribs screamed as if he’d leaned over a flame. He winced and struggled for a shallow breath.

“You’re hurt,” Viviana said.

“It’s nothing.”

She shook her head as if to clear it, and her dark hair danced about her slender shoulders. “If it were nothing, you wouldn’t be at the hospital. What’s wrong?”

“He tangled with a maniacal bull, and the bull won,” Jim answered for him. “Don’t happen often. This here’s one of the top bull riders in the world, and he’s got the buckle and the trophy to prove it.”

She looked up at him, a silvery strand of moonlight glimmering in her seductive eyes. The little emotional control he still possessed cratered.

“So you’re still bull riding?” she said.

“It’s in my blood. And you’re still tending the sick and wounded.”

“Guess that’s in my blood. And now you’re one of the wounded again.”

“Yep.” He did his best to fake a nonchalance that didn’t match the heated memories boiling inside him. “Guess you could say we’re right back where we started.”

“Not quite, Dakota.”

Crazy the way his name sounded different when she said it. Softer. Warmer. A bit gut-wrenching.

Jim’s brows arched and he rocked back on the heels of his boots. “Am I missing something here? Do you two know each other?”

“Old friends,” Dakota said.

“Well, damn. Why didn’t you say so?”

“Just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.”

“What type of injury did you sustain?” Viviana asked, seamlessly snapping back into her physician role.

She acted as if they were nothing more than old friends. If he were smart, he’d treat this encounter the same way.

He tried for a deep breath and managed a shallow, excruciating one. “I took the bull’s back hooves to the chest. I was wearing a safety vest, so chances are I just got bruised up a bit. I’m mostly here to get Jim off my case.”

“You’re obviously in distress. You need X-rays and possibly an MRI. Let me use your phone again. I’ll call for a wheelchair.”

“I don’t need a wheelchair. I ran over here and rescued you, didn’t I?”

“Give it up, Dakota.” She reached for his phone. “If you weren’t in severe pain and afraid something was broken, dislocated or crushed, you wouldn’t be at the hospital.”

“Yep, she knows you,” Jim said.

While she was making the call, a small truck with a red flashing light on the roof slowly rounded the back of the building.

“Security,” Viviana said, waving them over. “I’ll handle this, but not until you’re checked into the E.R.”

Viviana told the men her car had been stolen but that she’d already called the SAPD. The next thing Dakota knew he was being rolled toward an open hospital door and a uniformed nurse was ushering him inside. Once behind the curtained cubicle, he answered a few questions and admitted that on a scale of one through ten, his pain was pushing eight.

An injection of painkiller took that down quickly, but floating in a med-induced state made it doubly hard to keep his mind off Viviana. She could have been killed.

And she might still be in danger.

It was a piss-poor time for him to be beaten up like this. Not only was he practically useless to Viviana, but in mere hours, he also had another rendezvous with a bull.

THREE HOURS LATER, Viviana stood in the hallway, poring over Dakota’s test results. There was a partial tearing of the ligaments in the glenohumeral joint in his right shoulder. That would need time to heal.

There was also swelling and extensive bruising around the ribs but no serious breaks, thanks to the safety vest that he hadn’t been wearing sixteen months ago when she’d first nursed him back to health. The contusions to the chest wall were making breathing and movement painful.

But what could a man expect when he made a living riding bulls?

She couldn’t begin to understand his passion for danger. Couldn’t make sense of his need to push his body to such physical extremes. Couldn’t comprehend his willingness to put his life on the line for a rush of adrenaline and a few seconds of glory.

But, like his loner ways and his nomadic lifestyle, it was who he was. A cowboy at heart. A bull rider by choice. A man who had no desire to settle down. He’d never pretended to be anything different.

She’d accepted that months before and she wouldn’t let herself start second-guessing what she knew to be true.

Betsy, the nurse who’d been assigned to Dakota, stopped at Viviana’s elbow. “The cowboy in room five is gorgeous, but headstrong. He refused the offer of more pain meds, says he needs to be alert enough to drive. He’s also refusing to wear the sling and says he is not about to stay overnight for observation.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

Viviana braced herself for the emotional strain of being near Dakota and marched into room five, hugging his chart to her chest.

Dakota propped himself up a few inches with his elbows when she entered, wincing at the pain. He was going to be seriously sore for several days.

“What’s the verdict?” he asked.

As she explained the findings, he maintained a poker face. He’d heard it all before, probably more times than he could count.

“You were lucky,” she said. “You could have seriously fractured bones and had a completely dislocated right shoulder … if not worse.”

“Luck’s the name of the game.”

“In here, the name of the game is survival. I think you should be admitted for observation.”

“To make certain I don’t get much sleep for what’s left of the night and that I’ll be awakened at seven for dry eggs and cold coffee?”

“So that we can manage your pain and the respiratory therapist can see you in the morning.”

“I know the routine, Doc. Deep-breathing exercises to make certain I don’t develop pneumonia.”

“It is important.”

“I know.” He took a deep breath to show her he could do it.

She managed a smile. “You do seem to have that down.”

“I had a great doctor once. She taught me lots of things I haven’t forgotten.” His eyes said what his words only hinted at.

Tension escalated in the small cubicle until her own breathing was difficult. Nothing about dealing with Dakota had ever been easy. Their relationship had been fire and ice, passion and agony, love and …

Loss. And she couldn’t go through that again, especially now.

“You need to stay off the bulls for a few days to give your body time to heal. You need ice on the injured areas, several times a day, and I recommend that you keep that right arm in a sling for the next week to give it some extra support.”

“Anything you say.”

Would likely be ignored. Still she had to say it.

“What about your car?” Dakota asked. “Have the cops located it?”

“No, but hopefully they will soon.”

“Do you have a ride to your apartment?”

“Actually, it’s a town house, near the hospital.”

“Do you live alone?”

Her insides knotted. “No, Dakota. I don’t live alone.”

“I don’t see a wedding band.”

“I’m not married.”

“Well, at least I can offer you a ride to the town house since you stayed extra hours with me.”

“You don’t have a vehicle here.”

“Actually, I do. Another buddy dropped off my truck and Jim gave him a lift back to the hotel.”

“You shouldn’t be driving.”

“The hotel’s only a few miles away and the pain meds have pretty much worn off. I’m in good shape— Well, at least I’m clearheaded.”

“You’re in pain and should be keeping your right shoulder as still as possible.”

He narrowed his gaze. “I’m left-handed.” He sat up, yanking the hospital gown so that he stayed completely covered. “I promise to get you home safely.”

Her physical safety was not the issue. She’d be in his truck. It would smell like him and feel like him. He’d be near enough for her to hear his breathing, and his presence would roll through her in heated swells.

“It’s just a ride home, Viviana. I’m not promoting anything here.”

“Okay, Dakota. Sure. I’d appreciate the ride.”

Her heart was pounding as she left the room. But one thing was for certain. He would not be staying for breakfast this time.

DAKOTA TURNED THE KEY in the ignition, and his new Ford double cab pickup truck hummed to life. A George Strait tune blared from the radio and he reached over to lower the volume.

Viviana set a blue laptop case on the floor at her feet. “Nice wheels.”

“Thanks.”

“I thought you loved your old pickup.”

“I did, but it had over a hundred thousand tough miles on it. It was ready to bite the dust.”

She ran her hand over the dashboard. “I like this one.”

“Yep. It has all the bells and whistles.”

The silence grew awkward, punctuated by an awareness that all but consumed him. He’d been getting over her, or at least making a damn good stab at it. Now she was reviving the old feelings, torching the unhealed scars she’d left all over his heart.

He backed out of the parking spot. “Did the detective you called say whether or not there had been other armed carjackings in the area?”

“He said car thefts are on the rise, but that there hasn’t been a carjacking in this area for a couple of years.”

“Guess you never know when some thug will turn desperate.”

“Apparently. Stay right when you leave the lot and then turn left at the light.”

“Do you always work the late shift?” he asked once he’d made the turn.

“Normally I work from eleven at night to seven in the morning.”

“Why was tonight different?”

“I was covering for a doctor friend who had tickets for a Michael Bublé concert.”

“So she took your shift starting at eleven?”

“No. I’m starting a three-day break, so I wasn’t on the schedule. E.R. hours run a little different from typical doctor’s hours.”

“Guess the graveyard shift is the bane of first-year staff doctors?”

“Not really. Having days off just suits my lifestyle better.”

He understood what she meant. It gave her every evening at home with her significant other. The thought of her in another man’s arms settled like lead in Dakota’s stomach. Not that it surprised him. She’d never indicated she didn’t want a man in her life—just not him.

“The next right,” she said. “After that it’s just a couple of blocks.”

He did as she dictated, stopping in front of a two-story town house with a stone-and-wood fascia. A row of flowering shrubs set off a wide bay window. It was far more upscale than the small apartment she’d had as a resident back in Houston.

He wondered if she still had the same furniture. The couch where she’d given him the first massage to ease his painful muscles. His groin tightened as he remembered where that had led.

“Thanks for …”

“You need to take care of …”

They’d started talking at the exact same moment and their words became tangled.

She laughed nervously. “It was good to see you again, Dakota.”

“Yeah. You, too.” He leaned over, aching to kiss her, knowing it would be a big mistake.

She opened her door and slid out as if fearing he might make a move on her. He opened his truck door.

“Don’t bother walking me to the door, Dakota. You’re hurting, I’m exhausted and it really isn’t necessary.”

He watched her walk away, the finality of their brief encounter searing into his mind. She had her life all figured out and there was no place in it for him.

When she neared the house, motion lights flicked on. She looked back and waved. A few seconds later she turned the key in the lock and disappeared behind the dark wooden door.

He sat there for a few minutes, letting the memories wreak havoc with his brain before gunning the engine and starting off to his lonely hotel room.

He’d driven about four blocks when he stopped for a light and noticed Viviana’s laptop case still on the floor. She might need the computer first thing in the morning, so there was nothing to do but take it back to her. Imagine her live-in’s excitement to have an injured cowboy ring the bell in the wee hours of the morning.

There was movement in the shrubbery as he approached the house. He stopped and stared into the blackness. The movement evidently hadn’t been enough to trigger the motion lights.

But something was in those bushes. He opened his truck door. A man jumped from behind the bushes and started running toward the back of the house. Dakota leaped from the truck and took off after him. With the first pounding of his feet on the pavement, pain shot through him like small explosions. He struggled for breath.

He got to the back of the house just in time to see the man jump from a branch, clearing the tall privacy fence and landing with a thud on the other side. By the time Dakota shinnied up the tree, the man had disappeared.

He dropped back to the ground, his breath knifing through his lungs. Damn. Had he not been thrown with such force tonight, he could have caught the man and taken him down. But if he hadn’t wound up in the hospital, he wouldn’t have run into Viviana. The gunman might have forced her into the car and abducted her. If this was the man who’d stolen her car, she was clearly not a random target.

He trudged back to the truck, retrieved the computer and took the walkway back to the front door in the faint glow of moonlight. The motion light had either quit working or more likely had been sabotaged. He looked and felt like hell as he rang the bell.

A minute later, Viviana opened the door a crack and peeked out at him. “What’s wrong?”

“You left your computer in the truck. I brought it back to you.”

She opened the door the rest of the way, then reached up and dislodged a leaf from his hair. “You’re out of breath. Where have you been?”

“Chasing a man from your yard.”

“What?”

“I spotted someone at your front window when I drove up. I chased him but he got away.”

“The man who stole my car.” Her voice was shaky.

“That would be my guess.”

Color drained from her face. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this.”

“Best I remember, I came barging into it.”

“So you did. Do you mind coming in while I call the cops?”

“What will your boyfriend say about that?”

“There is no boyfriend.”

So her roommate was female or platonic. More relieved than he should be, Dakota stamped the dirt from his shoes and followed Viviana inside.

Viviana carefully locked the dead bolt behind Dakota. Twice tonight, he’d appeared just in time to save her from some depraved lunatic.

But right now, even that wasn’t the worst of her problems. She’d known for seven months that she had to face Dakota again eventually. She’d tried to convince herself that she’d be able to look him in the eye and explain everything without her emotions billowing out of control.

But the second she’d heard his voice tonight, those illusions had vanished.

“You need to call the cops or your friendly detective right away,” Dakota said. “The man could still be in the neighborhood and if they act fast they may be able to apprehend him.”

“I will, but lower your voice and come with me to the kitchen.”

“Why are we whispering?”

“Someone’s asleep upstairs. There’s an ice pack in the freezer.” She opened a drawer, took out a dish towel and tossed it to him. “Wrap it in this and apply it to your shoulder.”

“Bourbon would be better.”

She opened the door to the cabinet where she kept her meager supply of liquor while she punched 911 into her cell phone. She was tempted to call Cortez again, but it was no use waking him in the middle of the night when there was little he could do at this point.

The 911 operator took her information.

“Are you certain you’re not in any immediate danger?” the operator asked.

“I’m not certain, but the intruder appears to be gone.”

“Stay on the line while I alert the police.” The operator was back in under a minute. “An officer will be there within the next half hour. In the meantime, stay inside with your doors locked. If your situation changes and you feel you’re in immediate danger, call 911 again.”

“Did you stress to the police that this is likely the same man who stole my car earlier this evening?” Viviana asked.

“I made them aware of the circumstances.”

“Thanks.”

Which meant there was nothing to do but wait for the cops.

But at least that would give her a few minutes to clear her head and figure out how to handle Dakota.