Miss Impractical Pants (29 page)

Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong. Her head was searing with pain, and she could hear voices.

“What are we going tell Richard? This will put him off the game forever,” one voice remarked.

“He’ll be devastated,” agreed another.

Lucas was calling her name. He sounded so far away, but she could feel his minty soft breath warming her face. Suddenly she was very aware of the taste in her own mouth.
Gross!
She had to muster up some spit and swish it around before she could pry her tongue from the roof of her mouth.

She stirred, not because she felt like moving, but because she felt like she was lying in a bed of pudding.

“It looks like she’s coming to,” one gentleman announced.

Pulling her eyelids back enough to give her the tiniest slit of vision was no easy feat. Her vision was blurry…but it looked like there were two older gentlemen bent over her, hands on their knees, clad in colorful plaid trousers and plaid caps.
Holy crap, I’ve landed in Brigadoon.

“Katie, are you all right?” Lucas spoke, lightly stroking her cheek.

Speaking was much more difficult than she would have imagined, but somehow she managed to choke out the pressing question “Is my breath bad?”

Lucas’s face was so close that if Katie hadn’t already just done so, she would have fainted. He was on his knees hovering above her, shielding her from the rain with his body. He studied her for a moment,
as if trying to ascertain whether she was fully cognizant. “What do you think, doctor?” He turned to one of the men, a hint of a smile hovering around his mouth.

The slight, grey-haired man he called “doctor” stooped down closer to her, adjusting his cap so it wouldn’t tumble off his head—his
golf
cap. She felt nauseous with disappointment—or maybe from a concussion—that she wasn’t in Brigadoon, or even Hogwarts or Narnia, for that matter. All that was through the copse of trees was a crumby old golf course.

“Miss, do you hurt anywhere?” the doctor called to her.

Duh!
Her hand instinctively went to the source of agony on her temple, spreading a swipe of mud across her forehead. “It feels like someone hammered a stake into my head, then filled the bloody hole with molten lava.”

“She’s not too injured for dramatics,” the doctor’s companion chuckled.

“Did she hit the ground hard when she fell?” the doctor asked Lucas.

“No, I was able to catch her before she landed.”

The doctor seemed to consider that information for a moment before thrusting his face into to Katie’s, staring straight into her pupils, the brim of his corny cap pressing into her eyebrows. His hazel, owl-like eyes, growing in diameter, focused intently on hers. She heard a small squeak escape her lips, and knew she was going to have an attack of the awkward-moment giggles. She bit down on her tongue hard enough to make the situation not so funny and waited out the doctor’s assessment.

After several minutes—okay, probably several seconds—the doctor straightened, took her head in both his hands, and let his fingers conduct a thorough survey of her scalp. Katie gulped for air as the pain thrashed across her forehead.

“I think she’s going to be just fine. Damn lucky though, the way Richard sends them down the fairway. Imagine having a swing that can take out a woman in her own garden. It’s the damnedest thing,” the doctor said, shaking his head at what could have been. “I don’t see any danger in moving her. Just keep an eye on her if she wants to sleep, which I’m sure she will. Would you like help getting her to the house?”

“I’ll be fine, thank you. You should be returning to your game—Richard’s probably starting to worry.” Lucas smiled. “Thank you, doctor.”

“Woods, my name’s Woods.” He held out a steady hand to Lucas.

“Lucas
Hayden,
and this is Katie Sutherland.”

Katie raised a muddy hand in recognition.

The mention of Richard’s name ignited a worried debate between Woods and his companion over how to tell him his wild swing took out an unsuspecting woman.

“He doesn’t have to know,” Katie said in a loud whisper, which was all her voice would allow. “It would only make him feel bad, and I’m fine. I won’t tell if you won’t.” She managed a weak smile.

The two golfers exchanged questioning glances.

“She’s right, you know,” the other man said to Woods.

“Bless you, Katie Sutherland, that’s very kind of you,” Woods remarked. Deliberating over the idea, he added, “He doesn’t have to know as long as you really are fine. May I come round later this afternoon to check on you?”

Katie nodded feebly,
then
closed her eyes while Lucas exchanged information with the doctor.

“Well,” Lucas began once the golfers had gone, “let’s get you in out of this rain.”

Ready to comply, she began to raise herself up.

“Whoa, what do you think you’re doing?” Lucas halted her just as she was consumed by dizziness and pain. He scooped her up. Holding her close to his chest, he began the trek back to the house.

“Put me down,” she demanded. “I can walk.” She would happily field golf balls with her head all day long before she’d have Lucas pick her up and ascertain her actual mass.

He gave her that “poor crazy person” smile and continued walking.

“I mean it, Lucas Hayden! You put me down right now!” The pain surged and her head lolled onto his shoulder, rendering her threats unimpressive.

She remained there in a lethargic state for a few minutes until a breeze kicked up and blew a fresh anxiety into her mind. She could feel the wind playing at the back of her skirt while a cool draft chilled her backside, making her instantly aware the bottom of her skirt was hanging wide open, exposing her backside. More disturbing was the fact that her cradled position was giving her a massive wedgie, and her naked rear end was squished snugly atop his forearm.

She tried to squirm free of his hold, but every movement caused unnecessary pain in her skull.

“I can make it from here. It’s too far to carry me all the way up to the house.”

“If you really want to make this easier on me, then you’ll stop squirming.”

“I’m not going to hold still until my bare butt is off your arm.”

A look of amusement stole his expression, and he almost gave way to a laugh.

“Let’s compromise,” she said, defeated. “There’s a bench up ahead. We could sit down and…um…readjust. I’m sure your arms could use a rest.”

He paused at the bench just long enough for her to exhume her underwear and adjust his hold, this time ensuring the back of her skirt was held properly in place. The rest of their journey to the house was spent in silence. Within moments, the fuzziness in her head had engulfed her entirely and she was lulled back into semiconsciousness by the rhythm of his slow, steady pace.

Warm, vanilla-scented air from the house besieged her along with the buzz of commotion, but her body was unwilling to revive itself. In her handicapped mental state, she was still preoccupied with the fact that Lucas had lugged her cow frame across the entire length of the garden. Fragments of conversation seeped through the haze and reached her brain.

“Maybe we should get her in hospital,” Sidney suggested.

“She’s chilled right to the bone—we have to get her out of these wet clothes,” trilled Mrs. Albright.

“Let me take her from you while you get your muddy shoes off,” Geoffrey offered.

Katie registered being transferred from one set of arms to another.

“Hmmph,” Geoffrey groaned. “She’s a lot heavier than she looks.”

Katie wanted to retort, but the words were too hard to produce. She would just have to remember to hold that remark against him for a long time.

“I’ll go turn down her bed,” volunteered Lottie.

“No!” Geoffrey wheezed. “That’s too far!”

Make that a
very
long time.

She was jostled once again as another transfer took place.

“Oh, for the love of Pete, Geoffrey—give her back to me,” Lucas huffed.

Sidney, using his military voice, commanded, “Put her on the settee in the library.”

Everyone, even Katie, was startled into action by his uncharacteristic sternness.

Katie uttered a feeble protest. “Please, not the white room. I’m not allowed near white furniture.”

“Nonsense,” Sidney comforted her.

“Lottie...you must protect the white sofa!” she pleaded, placing her thumping head on Lucas’s shoulder.

“Bloody hell,” Lottie sighed, though secretly pleased to be called to a position where she could be bossy. “Sidney, Geoffrey, go fetch a couple of blankets and bring some extra chairs into the library
and wait for us there.” She turned to Mrs. Albright. “Penny, go fetch a fresh pair of pajamas for Katie.”

Once the room was cleared, she clucked her disapproval at Lucas and Katie.

“Look at the two of you! You look like two pigs that have been wrestling in the mud.”

“Next time Katie gets hit in the head, we’ll make sure she does it on a soft grassy bit,” Lucas grumbled.

Lottie sniffed, swatted him playfully on the butt, and went back to business.

“Katie dear, are you able to stand?”

“I…I think so.”

Lottie gestured for Lucas to put her down.

Hesitating, he did as he was instructed. Katie swaggered, trying to support her full weight, but was only able to manage with a supporting arm from Lucas.

“All right, both of you,” Lottie demanded like a drill sergeant. “Knickers. Are you wearing any?”

Despite finding the question odd, Katie followed Lucas’s lead and answered with an affirmative nod. The small motion launched shoots of agony through her cranium.

“Strip down to them,” Lottie ordered.

“Mother, this is ludicrous…” Lucas argued, but Lottie halted his words with her “Mother’s had it up to here” glare.

“If you think I’m going to allow a child of mine to drop even one speck of mud on Sidney’s white carpets, you need your thick head examined.”

She didn’t need to continue her scolding—Lucas already had his jeans around his ankles and was pulling off his shirt—but she did.

“Katie here has been brain-damaged and even
she
has enough respect to consider the furniture. Now shut your eyes—I won’t have you stealing peeks at our Katie in her knick-knocks.” She rapped a warning on Lucas’s head with her knuckles.

At this point, Katie was too dazed, too pained, and too relieved that she wasn’t wearing scaggy panties to argue. Every movement made her head scream with agony, but she did as she was told. Like scolded children, they stood side by side in the mud room: dripping wet, muddy clothes discarded, Lucas’s eyes squeezed shut, Katie on the verge of collapse, and Lottie scrubbing their faces with a damp cloth until a very startled Mrs. Albright returned with Katie’s pajamas.