The Cowboy Rescues a Bride (Cowboys of Chance Creek) (13 page)

There was no time to explore Ned’s body. To do so without his approval would be wrong, anyway. Still as she turned away, she longed to look again. She found him utterly fascinating, and with no danger of him responding to her glances, it seemed a shame to waste such an opportunity.

She only allowed herself one more quick look, however, before she moved her attention to his legs. It was obvious where the break occurred—in his left thigh. It was a bad one, too.

Ned needed her to be practical now. To be professional, as much as she could be. She needed to brace his body somehow and tug his leg sharply to snap the broken bone back into place. Toward the back of the large living room, a thick, wooden post braced up a ceiling beam. Fila decided she could make use of it. She searched the cabin until she found a long length of inch-thick rope. She edged Ned as close to the post as she could, then hauled and tugged him into a seated position, wrapping the rope around and around his torso as tightly as she could to bind him to the post. The result reminded her of cartoons she’d seen as a child, in which villains tied up unsuspecting maidens in coils of ropes that only left their head and feet sticking out, and left them lying on railway tracks. The loops of rope covered Ned from his hips to his armpits. She wasn’t sure this would work, but didn’t know what else to do.

Kneeling down at his feet, Fila tentatively took his left foot in her hand, sucked in a breath, screwed up her courage and jerked back as hard as she could. She felt the bones of his thigh snap into position and she released his foot with an exhale, nearly overwhelmed with nausea. Had she done it right? She didn’t think she had the courage to try it again. She inched closer to Ned, thankful he was still out cold. She felt along his thigh carefully, pressing his skin harder as she gained in confidence. All felt in place, so she quickly positioned the splints and bound his leg firmly. When she was done, she sat back, breathing deeply. Her brow was damp with sweat and her hands trembled. Suddenly, the enormity of her position crashed over her. She was alone with an injured man, far from civilization. Her phone didn’t work and she didn’t know if Ned’s injury might become infected or worse. Fear clogged her throat and her breathing sped up until she was almost hyperventilating. She bent forward until her forehead touched the floor, tears finally spilling over her eyes.

After a long minute, she forced herself to straighten up. Scraping her sleeve over her eyes she vowed to herself it was the last time she’d cry until she was home at the Double-Bar-K again. She had to stay strong. For herself—and for Ned.

Ned woke to
an ache in his thigh so intense he thought he’d throw up. His head pounded, his tongue was thick and he was lying on a cold hard floor that did little to improve things. He twisted his head to try to make out his location and was rewarded with a throb of pain through his temples that nearly took his breath away.

He lay still until the room stopped spinning and tried again. Above him were the bare wooden rafters of a ceiling of a rustic cabin. Below him his fingers traced over rough-hewn plank boards. There was something familiar about the fireplace and the taxidermied buck’s head that hung above the mantel.

This was his family’s place—their hunting cabin.

Suddenly it all came back in a rush.

Fila. Where was Fila?

He tried to sit up but the pain forced him down again before he’d barely moved an inch. His thigh was on fire and his forehead damp with sweat. His whole body felt like he’d been tossed from a bucking bronco. He was in bad shape—literally flat on his back—but he hadn’t moved himself here. He hoped that meant Fila wasn’t nearly hurt as bad.

Memories assailed him, driving a groan from his throat. He’d driven right off the road.

He could have killed them both.

Like an idiot he hadn’t buckled himself in during their ride from Chance Creek. Seatbelt laws irritated him, as did anything that attempted to restrict his liberties. Now he wished he’d restricted his own damn liberties a little bit.

What if he’d hurt Fila? What if she was dead, even? Someone else could have found them and dragged him in here.

He tried again to sit up and this time made it halfway before white fuzz spiked through his vision and a resounding thump through his skull a moment later told him he’d passed out and crashed back again.

He felt footsteps through the floor boards, light but firm. Someone was approaching. He opened one eye and a wave of relief crashed over him. “Fila,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m well. You are hurt.” Her soft voice chided him. Well, he deserved it, didn’t he?

“Did you call for help?”

“There’s no signal, not even outside.”

Ned closed his eyes. Of course—not out here. They were never able to get a signal until they’d traveled out to the highway and some miles south. The hunting lodge was designed to be remote. Part of its charm was its lack of access to the outside world.

“The truck?”

She shook her head. He believed her. It had to be totaled after the fall from the driveway. “I’m sorry,” he made himself say. He didn’t often apologize, but this time it seemed warranted. He wanted to say more, but the words didn’t come. Flat here on his back, it was all too apparent how big an idiot he’d allowed himself to become. He’d wanted to rescue Fila—protect her from her fears, build her a whole new life—and now look what he’d done.

“I’m fine. You broke your leg. I don’t know if you are hurt in other places.”

Ned wasn’t sure either. His hands and arms seemed to be intact. He touched his chest and stomach and hips. All was right with them, too. Some sore spots which were probably bruises, but that was it. When his hands reached beneath the covers she’d piled on top of him, however, he realized what was different.

His pants. He no longer wore jeans. These were…a loose pair of sweat pants. He reached down farther, found where she’d split them up the leg. Took in the hard sticks that acted as splints beneath them. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

Fila blushed.

His own body fired up in response. Fila had undressed him? Had she liked what she saw?

“I set the bone,” Fila said, quenching his interesting thoughts, “but it could get infected.”

“You set it?” He wished he could sit up and look her head on. Wanted to ask her about his pants, but on the other hand, didn’t. If his leg was broken, the break had to be where it now throbbed and buzzed halfway down his thigh. His leg felt stiff too, and he realized that she’d splinted it in lieu of a cast. How on earth could a slip of a girl like Fila set his thigh? Maybe it hadn’t been broken that badly.

When he said as much to her, however, she shook her head gravely. “It was like this when I found you,” she said, demonstrating with two fingers. One pointed down like a leg should. The other one bent to the side. Ned’s stomach lurched.

“How did you know what to do?”

“I helped several times in my village. In Afghanistan,” she explained. “There was no doctor there. The older women knew what to do. We younger ones helped them. We held them down.”

“The patients?”

She nodded. “You were unconscious. Much easier. I tied you to the post.”

The post, huh? Ned was getting an entirely new admiration for her. Setting a leg took strength. “Glad you did it while I was out cold.” He wondered if she had done it right, though. It sure hurt like hell. And what had she said about infection? What would they do if that happened?

“I must go get help,” she said as if reading his mind.

“You can’t.”

“The snow isn’t so deep,” she assured him. “I’ll build up the fire and leave you food and something to drink. Blankets.”

“You can’t,” he reiterated. “There’s no one else out here. It’s eighteen miles to the road and that’s the closest we ever get reception. You’d have to camp overnight somewhere on the way—in sub-freezing weather. Then, when you reached the highway, who knows who’d stop for you? What if it’s the wrong kind of person? Uh uh. You have to stay here. My family will come after us.”

“When?” she demanded.

“I said we’d be gone for four days.”

“So we wait all that time?”

Ned shrugged and looked away. “I guess. What’s wrong—afraid to be alone with me?” He regretted the taunt as soon as he said it. This wasn’t some girl he was hitting on at the Dancing Boot. This was Fila. She’d been through far too much to tease.

“I’m afraid you’ll die if that break gets infected.” She was angry.

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t get infected then.” He turned his head. The floor was uncomfortable. “Any chance I could get a pillow?”

Fila disappeared and came back with one. She brought another comforter, too, and laid it over him. The slightest movement or pressure on his leg was agony and he knew he was in for a very long haul until someone came after them. Fila was right, too; it could be days. His family knew he was usually capable of looking after himself. They knew, too, that he preferred to spend time alone every now and then. His best bet was that someone would worry about Fila out in the wilderness with him and come to fetch her early. Maybe they’d worry enough to come today.

Fila built up the fire and soon he was warm except for his back on the cool floorboards. When he mentioned it, Fila started the slow process of lifting him an inch at a time and insinuating another comforter between him and the planks. Each jostle to his leg made him wince and sweat. When she was finally done his nausea had returned.

She disappeared again and came back with a bottle of pain reliever. After consulting together, she gave him several tablets and lifted his head and shoulders so he could sip some water without drowning himself.

“Rest now,” she told him, as if he had any choice. He caught her hand as she got up to put the medicine away.

“Thank you,” he said. “It couldn’t have been easy to get me inside. You’re very brave.”

“Not as brave as you think.” She tugged her hand free.

‡
Chapter 16

N
ow that Ned
was settled and out of danger for the moment, Fila dressed back up in her warm coat and boots and went outside to bring in their provisions. She found their duffel bags thrown clear of the truck and hauled them indoors one at a time. Their groceries and ice chest hadn’t fared so well. The milk and most of the cooking oil had drained out of their containers. The eggs were crushed. But the dry goods and butter were fine. She collected the containers and bags where they were strewn around the upside-down truck, then peered inside its cab again to see what she might have missed.

She spotted an ancient-looking first aid kit near the back of the cab and figured it used to be stowed under the driver’s seat. Fishing it out, she opened it and found several things that might come in handy. She packed it in with the groceries and brought everything inside.

Ned had stuffed the pillow under his head and neck to raise himself up a little and he watched her move around the cabin unpacking the bags and setting things to rights. She set a pot of water to boil to make him tea on the old-fashioned iron cookstove and wished she had some herbs on hand with antibiotic properties. Or antibiotics themselves.

That reminded her of the first aid kit. She brought it out and went through it but although it contained antiseptic wipes and rubber gloves, it contained nothing he could take for an interior infection. Fila’s worry grew.

There was nothing for it; she’d have to hike out first thing in the morning. She’d leave before first light and go fast to make it to the highway before the sun set again. She’d bring the cell phone and call for a rescue the minute she got service. Or she’d flag down a passing vehicle and find help that way.

The whole idea left her numb with dread. She didn’t fear the forest road, exactly—it was too cold for bears and she thought most other animals would leave her alone. Unless there were wolves; she feared wolves. She feared strangers, too. She’d need to flag some down on the highway, however, if it turned out she still couldn’t get reception. Ned was right; she had no idea who would stop for her.

And if she had to spend the night outside? How would she manage that? She could freeze to death before she ever got help for Ned.

“Did you check the roof?” Ned said, interrupting her thoughts.

“The roof of the truck?” She hated to think how close both of them had come to being crushed.

“The roof of the house. Remember why we came here in the first place?”

She hadn’t remembered. Not after the horrific accident and the even worse experience of setting Ned’s leg. She tried to picture the exterior of the cabin in her mind. She had an impression of a snow covered roof, but had no idea how deep that snow was.

“You’d better go outside and take a look,” Ned said.

She wrapped up once again and did so. She trudged out into the yard, turned around and nearly stifled a groan. At least two feet of snow had accumulated on top of the little building—maybe closer to three. She returned inside and reported her findings to Ned. He looked grave.

“If there is ice layered in between the snow up there it will be heavy as heck,” he said. “We’ve got shovels and picks in the shed out back. You’ll have to do what you can.” He must have seen the look on her face. “Sorry, Fila. I hate to ask you to do all the work, but I don’t think I’ll be much help.”