Wild Horse Springs. Jodi Thomas

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СКАЧАТЬ on my own land. Or at least I was when my horse threw me.”

      She might have been pretty if she wasn’t glaring at him. The lantern light offered that flashlight-to-the-chin kind of glow. With her arms on her hips, she had a kind of Paul Bunyan’s little sister look about her.

      “Where does it hurt?” She kept her voice low, but she didn’t sound friendly. “As soon as I pass you to the medics, I’ll start looking for your horse. The animal might be out here, too, hurting or dead. Did she fall with you?”

      Great! His Good Samaritan was more worried about the horse than him. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. When I fell off the edge of the canyon, Midnight was still standing, probably laughing at me.” He took a breath as the woman moved to his legs. The pain came sharp suddenly. “I tumbled for what seemed like miles. It hurts all over.”

      “How did this happen?”

      “The horse got spooked when we hit a patch of ice,” he snapped again, tired of talking, needing all his strength to handle the pain. Cuss words flowed out with each breath. Not at her, but at his bad luck.

      She ignored them as she brushed over the left leg of his jeans, already stained dark with blood. He tried to keep from screaming. He fought her hand now as she searched, examining where something had to be broken it hurt so much. He knew he couldn’t take much more without passing out.

      “Easy,” she whispered as her blood-warmed fingers cupped his face. “Easy, cowboy. You’ve got a bad break. I have to do what I can to stabilize you and slow the blood flow. They’ll be here soon. You’ve got to let me wrap a few of these wounds so you don’t bleed out.”

      He nodded once, knowing she was right.

      In the glow of a lantern she worked, making a tourniquet out of his belt, carefully wrapping his leg, then his head wound.

      Her voice finally came low, sexy maybe if it were a different time, a different place. “It looks bad, but I don’t see any chunks of brain poking out anywhere.”

      He didn’t know if she was trying to be funny or just stating a fact. He didn’t bother to laugh. She put a bandage on the gash along his throat. It wasn’t deep, but it dripped a steady stream of blood.

      As she wrapped the bandage, the starched cotton over her breasts brushed against his cheek, distracting him. If this was her idea of doctoring a patient with no painkillers, it was working. For a few seconds there, he almost forgot to hurt.

      “I don’t have water to clean the wounds, but the dressing should keep anything else from getting in.”

      Cody began to calm. The pain was still there, but the demons in the corners of his mind were silent. Watching her move in the shadows relaxed him. She wasn’t petite, but tall and built with curves that her trousers and man’s shirt couldn’t hide.

      “Cody,” he finally said. “My first name is Cody.”

      She smiled then for just a second.

      “You a nurse?” he asked.

      “No. I’m a park ranger. If you’ve no objection, I’d like to examine your chest next.”

      Cody didn’t move as she unzipped his jacket. “I used to be a ranger, but I never stepped foot in a park.” He could feel her unbuttoning his shirt. Her hand moved in, gently gliding across his ribs. “I put in a few years as a Texas Ranger.”

      When he gasped for air, she hesitated, then whispered, “One broken rib.” A moment later she added, “Two.”

      He forced slow long breaths as he felt the cold night air pressing against his bare chest. Her hand crossed over his bruised skin, stopping at the scars he’d collected that night at the Rio Grande. The night he bled into the mud. The night he first heard the devils hiding in the shadows.

      She lifted the light. “Bullet wounds?” she questioned more to herself than him. “You’ve been hurt bad before, Ranger Winslow.”

      “Yeah,” he said as he took back control of his mind and made light of a gunfight that almost ended his life. “I was fighting outlaws along the Rio Grande. I swear it seemed like that battle was almost two hundred years ago. Back when Captain Hays ordered his men to cross the river with guns blazing. We went across just like that, only chasing drug runners and not cattle rustlers like they did back then. But we were breaking the law not to cross just the same.”

      He closed his eyes and saw his three friends. They’d gone through training together and were as close as brothers. They wanted to fight for right. They thought they were invincible that night on the border, just like Captain Hays’s men must have believed.

      Only those rangers had won the battle. They all returned to Texas. Cody had carried his best friend back across the water that night three years ago, but Hobbs hadn’t made it. He’d died in the shallow water a few feet from Cody. Fletcher took two bullets, but helped Gomez back across. Both men died.

      “I’ve heard of that story about the famous Captain Hays.” She brought him back from a battle that had haunted him every night for three years. “Legend is that not one ranger was shot. They rode across the Rio screaming and firing. The bandits thought there were a hundred of them coming. But, cowboy, if you rode with Hays, that’d make you a ghost tonight, and you feel like flesh and blood to me. Today’s rangers are not allowed to cross.”

      Her hand was moving over his chest lightly, caressing now, calming him, letting him know that she was near. He relaxed and wished they were somewhere warm.

      “You’re going to make it, Winslow. I have a feeling you’re too tough to die easy.” The lights of a helicopter circled above them.

      He didn’t want to think about dying or being hurt. He pushed the ghosts who always followed him aside and focused on her. “If I live, how about we get together and talk sometime? Any woman who has six kids, can handle injuries in the dark and recognizes bullet wounds is bound to be interesting.”

      She laughed. “You got yourself a date, Cody.”

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