A Cold Creek Christmas Surprise. RaeAnne Thayne

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      Chapter Two

      At the first hoarse cry and muffled thud from the distant reaches of the house, Ridge shoved back his chair so hard it slid on the wood floor a few inches. He recognized a sound of pain when he heard it.

      What the hell?

      He jumped up and raced out of his office. The instant he entered the great room, he found a slight form crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, a bag of garbage spilling out next to her and Tripod anxiously whining and licking her face.

      “Go on, Tri. Back up, buddy.”

      The little dog reluctantly hopped away, allowing Ridge to crouch down beside the woman. Her eyes were closed, and her arm was twisted beneath her in a way he knew couldn’t be right.

      What was her name again? Sarah something. Whitmore. That was it. “Sarah? Ms. Whitmore? Hey. Come on, now. Wake up.”

      She moaned but didn’t open her eyes. As he took a closer look at that arm, he swore under his breath. Maybe it was better if she didn’t wake up. When she did, that broken arm would hurt like hell.

      He had known a couple of broken arms in his day and had enjoyed none of them.

      The woman had appeared fragile and delicate when she showed up at his house, too delicate to properly handle the job of cleaning up the wedding mess by herself. Now she looked positively waiflike, with all color washed from her features and long brown lashes fanning over those high cheekbones. Already, he could see a bruise forming on her cheek and a bump sprouting above her temple.

      He looked up the stairs, noticing a few pieces of garbage strewn almost at the very top. Must have been one hell of a fall.

      All his protective instincts urged him to let her hang out in never-never land, where she was safe from the pain. He didn’t want to be the cause of more, but he knew he had to wake her. She really needed to be conscious so he could assess her symptoms.

      A guy couldn’t grow up on a busy Idaho ranch without understanding a little about first aid. Broken arms, abrasions, contusions, lacerations. He’d had them all—and what he hadn’t suffered, the twins or Caidy had experienced. Judging by her lingering unconsciousness, he was guessing she had a concussion, which meant the longer she remained out of it, the more chance of complications.

      “Ma’am? Sarah? Can you hear me?”

      Her eyes blinked a little but remained closed, as if her subconscious didn’t want to face the pain, either. He carefully ran his hands over her, avoiding the obvious arm fracture as he checked for other injuries. At least nothing else seemed obvious. With that basic information, he reached for his cell phone and quickly dialed 911.

      He could drive her to the Pine Gulch medical clinic faster than the mostly volunteer fire department could gather at the station and come out to the ranch, but he was leery to move her without knowing if she might be suffering internal injuries.

      As he gave the basic information to the dispatcher, her eyes started to flutter. An instant later, those eyes opened slightly, reminding him again of lazy summer afternoons when he was a kid and had time to gaze up at the sky. He saw confusion there and long, deep shadows of pain that filled him with guilt.

      She had been cleaning his house. He couldn’t help but feel responsible.

      “Take it easy. You’ll be okay.”

      She gazed at him for an instant with fright and uncertainty before he saw a tiny spark of recognition there.

      “Mr....Bowman.”

      “Good. At least you know my name. How about your own?”

      She blinked as if the effort to remember was too much. “S-Sarah. Sarah M—er, Whitmore.”

      He frowned at the way she stumbled a little over her last name but forgot it instantly when she shifted a little and tried to move. At the effort, she gave a heartbreaking cry of pain.

      “Easy. Easy.” He murmured the words as softly as he would to a skittish horse—if he were the sort of rancher to tolerate any skittish horses on the River Bow. “Just stay still.”

      “It hurts,” she moaned.

      “I know. I’m sorry. I’m afraid you broke your arm when you fell. I’ve called an ambulance. They should be here soon. We’ll run you into the clinic in Pine Gulch. Dr. Dalton should be able to fix you up.”

      Her pale features grew even more distressed. “I don’t need an ambulance,” she said.

      “I hate to argue with a lady, but I would have to disagree with you there. You took a nasty fall. Do you remember what happened?”

      She looked up the stairs and her eyes widened. For a minute, he thought she would pass out again. “I was going to talk to you and I...I tripped, I guess. I’m not sure. Everything is fuzzy.”

      “You were coming to talk to me about what?”

      A couple СКАЧАТЬ