Read Rocky Mountain Hitched: Contemporary Western Romance (To Love Again Book 6) Online
Authors: Kate Fargo
Tags: #To Love Again Series - Book 6
Rocky Mountain Hitched: Contemporary Western Romance (To Love Again Book 6)
ROCKY MOUNTAIN HITCHED
To Love Again - Book 6
Kate Fargo
BOOK DESCRIPTION
Will Tray and Isabel find their happily ever after?
They've learned to trust and chosen to love. Will they risk everything and choose to live happily ever after?
This is Book 6 of the To Love Again series.
Reading Order - To Love Again series
Rocky Mountain Hook Up - Book 1
Rocky Mountain Hideaway - Book 2
Rocky Mountain Holiday - Book 4
Rocky Mountain Heaven - Book 5
Rocky Mountain Hitched - Book 6
Rocky Mountain Hitched
Copyright
©
2015 by Kate Fargo
All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons or organizations, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No part of this work may be used or reproduced in any manner, except as allowable under “fair use”, without the express written permission of the author.
You can follow the author and learn about future releases by visiting her on Facebook at:
www.facebook.com/AuthorKateFargo
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~
~ ~ ~
This book is dedicated to all the Issy’s I have known,
Who were courageous enough to take a leap of faith,
And who - against all odds - were willing to love again.
~ ~ ~
CHAPTER ONE
Tray urged the stallion to gallop faster, watching in horror as Isabel struggled with the mare. “Pull on the reins,” he yelled. She panicked and pulled too hard. The horse stopped and reared, almost throwing her off. The mare jolted hard to the right, and Isabel sailed off the side of the horse, her foot releasing from the left stirrup at the last minute, arms and clothes flapping, before she hit the ground. Hard.
“Whoa.” He slowed his horse, drawing up a few feet away. Isabel lay completely still, her head dangerously close to a large rock. He dismounted and rushed to her side. “Isabel,” he said. Was she unconscious? He crouched beside her, and slid his hand gently under her head. Best he could tell, she hadn’t come in contact with the rock. How could he have let this happen? She wasn’t an experienced rider. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to her.
He checked her arms and moved down to her legs. Her right leg looked fine but her left looked slightly twisted at the knee. The temperature was plummeting, the valley growing dark. He calculated thirty minutes of twilight before total darkness. Removing his glove, he gently patted her cheek. “Isabel, Isabel.”
Her eyelids fluttered and she groaned. Moving her head slightly to the side, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. “What happened?”
“You took a spill,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“Like I just had the stuffing knocked out of me. Ooooh,” she said, as she tried to lift her head. “Am I hurt?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing. How does your head feel?”
“Heavy. Like a rock. My ears are ringing.”
He slid his hand beneath her neck. “I’m going to lift your head slightly, just enough to get your hood and hat off. I need to see what’s going on.” She moaned slightly as he adjusted her. Kneeling, he looked closely at the back of her head. No blood. He released his breath. Probing gently with his fingers, he checked her skull and the base of her neck. No cuts or gashes that he could find. “I think you’re all right back here,” he said.
He moved along her side, so she could see him better. She started to weep. More from shock, he suspected, but he needed to be sure. He put his hand on her thigh just above the twisted knee. “How does this leg feel?”
“Fine,” she said, puzzled. She lifted her head and when she saw the twist, she gagged a little and let her head fall back to the ground. “Ouch.”
Lifting her leg gently, he pressed down along the side of her shin. “Anything?”
She shook her head.
He cupped her knee and applied pressure. “Here?”
Again, she shook her head, tears flowing freely down her cheek.
“Are you sure, Isabel? Does this hurt?”
“No, I’m fine. Just … scared, I think.”
“You took quite a spill. I need to make sure you can put weight on this leg.” He lifted her shin and twisted it back toward the outside, watching her closely. “That didn’t hurt?”
She shook her head.
“Let’s get you up. It’s too cold on the ground.” Plus, it was getting dark. He didn’t have a flashlight and they still had a way to go to reach the trailer. Reaching behind her shoulders, he pulled her until she was sitting up against him.
“Wait,” she said. “Let me get my breath. I feel dizzy.” She rested her chin on her chest. He cupped her head, feeling again for injuries he might have missed. Her ears were blazing red. Grabbing her hat, he worked it down over her ears and forehead, then pulled her hood up over her head. “We need to go, sweetheart. It will be dark soon.”
“I can’t ride again,” she whimpered.
“You’ll ride with me. The mare will follow us.”
“But she’s gone, isn’t she?”
“She just came back,” he lifted his chin toward the mare, grazing beside his stallion. “Can you get up?” She nodded. He stood, and pulled her to her feet, letting her rest in place a minute to get her bearings. He brushed her coat off, wrapped her scarf back around her neck and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. Kissing the tip of her nose, he smiled gently. She was something else, even now, bruised, battered and recently bucked off his quietest mare. He led her over toward the waiting stallion. “Ready?”
“I don’t want to get back on the horse.” She stepped back.
“You’ll ride with me.”
“No.” She shook her head. “No, I’ll walk back.”
“You can’t. It’s almost dark. There won’t be a single light to guide us. It will be pitch black and this ground is really uneven.” The moon would be full later, but in that hour before it came up over the top of the valley, they wouldn’t be able to see a thing. He stepped toward her. “I need to get you out of this cold. Trust me.”
She bit her lip, glanced toward the large stallion, then back at Tray. “Will we go slowly?”
“Very slowly, but we need to go now.” He joined his hands so she could step into them. Putting her left foot into his hands, she tried to lift herself. Her knee buckled and she collapsed against him.
“Ouch,” she cried. “I, I can’t. I can’t put any weight on this leg.”
“Steady,” he said, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her straight up. “Can you reach your right leg over?” She squirmed and once she had her leg in place, he pushed her up onto the horse.
She grasped his hand. “Don’t leave me. What if he takes off before you get up here?”
“He won’t, look, I have him,” he said, indicating the reins in his hand. “Hang on to his mane, and,” he stepped into the stirrup, slid into the saddle behind Isabel, and put an arm around her, “I’ll be right here.”
She clamped her hands onto his arm and he nudged the horse forward. They picked their way across the field, the mare following behind. He could barely make out the trailer. It was just a darker shape in the distance. Just when he was wishing he had a flashlight, or at least cell phone, they were on more even ground and the truck and trailer loomed before them.
~~~
Tray lifted her into his arms and climbed the front stairs. Pushing through the door, he put her down gently in the front foyer where they were met with a blast of heat and cheerful chatter. Isabel linked her arm through his and leaned against him, hobbling down the hall toward the kitchen. He’d been so sweet and gentle with her. When the initial shock had worn off, she realized she wasn’t badly hurt. She had some pain, but she agreed with him that it was probably only a light sprain.
“Tray.” Several people shouted at once, and they were surrounded. She was caught up in a group hug, of sorts, until Betty interrupted.
“Let the girl get to the table,” she roared. When Tray moved her toward a chair, Betty threw her towel on the counter and stepped closer. “Is she hurt?”
“Took a spill in the valley,” he said.
“You mean she fell off the horse?” Betty leaned over her. “Where does it hurt, hon?”
Isabel looked into her kind face and forced a smile. “It’s my leg. I’m sure it’s just a sprain.”
“Get Susan in here,” Betty commanded, over her shoulder. One of the kids ran into the other room, yelling for his Auntie Susan. “How did this happen?”
“My fault,” Isabel said. “I wanted the horse to trot but I put her into a gallop instead.”
“You don’t ride?” Betty leaned her head to the side, as if it was almost unheard of. “You
are
a city girl. Let’s get you fixed up. Here’s Susan now.”
A tall woman with sharp features stepped in front of her. “Hi,” she grinned. “I’m Michael’s wife, Susan. You must be Isabel.” She extended her hand and Isabel shook it.
“You’re a doctor?”
Susan barked out a small laugh. “No, dear, I’m a nurse’s aid. I’m not sure I can tell you anything that you haven’t already figured out on your own, but let’s have a look.” Isabel extended her leg and she prodded carefully down each side of her knee. Applying pressure just above the kneecap, she asked, “This hurt?”
Isabel shook her head. “No. I don’t have any localized pain — the whole area throbs a little, and it’s hard to put pressure on it when I stand.”
Susan glanced over at Tray. “You did this to her? You bring her to the farm for her first visit and she goes home wounded?”
“I-I-”
“It was my fault,” Isabel rushed in.
Everyone started laughing at once. “Oh, she’s an easy one,” chortled Betty. “Don’t take this crowd seriously, hon. It’ll kill ya. I’ll bet you’re hungry.”
Isabel grinned. “Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I’ll catch on soon enough.”
“I know you will, hon.” Betty winked and turned to stir a pot on the stove. “Everyone to the table. Anyone shorter than this line, go wash your hands.” One of the boys stood on his tiptoes, trying to reach the line on the doorframe. “Off you go,” Betty said, flicking a towel at his butt as he squealed down the hall.
The women helped get the meal on the table, and the men brought extra chairs in from the dining room. In the ensuing chaos, Tray introduced Isabel to Jesse and his wife, Anne, and to his youngest brother Michael. The kids were pointed out to her, but she knew she didn’t stand a chance of remembering so many names.
Everyone grabbed their spots and started passing bowls of food. The kids raced back into the room and took chairs next to their parents. She heaped her plate with steaming mashed potatoes, summer squash, carrots and a piece of breaded chicken. She waited for the gravy, which was still at the far end of the table, wondering if they would say grace.
