Summer Winds (16 page)

I busied myself taking Cash’s pulse, checked her breathing, removed her shoes, and covered her with a quilt. Head injury
,
I thought, and decided not to call Buck until I had something to tell him versus something to worry him. So I just paced and waited and picked up ice packs and then put them back down, not knowing where to place them on her, and she wasn’t alert enough to tell me.

A long hour later, Doc Flanders arrived, stood in the bedroom doorway, and shouted, “What did you do to her, Maggie?” Unzipping his medical case, he took out a stethoscope and pin flashlight and shined the light into her pupils. “Told me you flew off a bull, young lady. You have a strange way of entertaining yourself, stabbing yourself with rusty wires and now this.”

“She was awake and talking and then just passed out,” I said.

“Could be fear, tension, head injury, slight concussion, or she was just bored with you. I’d say get some coffee in her.”

“Don’t I need to walk her around or keep her awake?”

“You weren’t doing that before I got here, don’t know why you’d start now. Besides, she’s bigger than you.” He let go of her eyelid and it snapped shut like a camera lens. “Give her coffee.”

Doc Flanders seemed less skilled than Perry, but he showed up and reaffirmed what I suspected, and that affirmation was comforting.

“If she vomits or convulses, let me know. And don’t let her do that while she’s lying on her back—gets down in the lung and it’ll kill her. Watch her all night, would be the best thing. Can you sleep in here with her?” I nodded that I could. “I’ll write my cell phone on your counter out there and if you need me, think twice before calling.” As he shambled out the door he kept talking. “Only my wife is allowed to wake me up in the middle of the night, and that hasn’t happened in a hell of a long time.” He exited past Perry and shuffled out to the front porch.

I ordered Perry to pull a chair up to her bedside and watch her closely while I grabbed a quick shower. It was going to be a long night.

Closing my bedroom door, I yanked my barn clothes off, showered in minutes, threw on sweats and a fresh T-shirt, and headed back into Cash’s bedroom. “Okay, I can take over now,” I told him, but he was staring down into her face like he thought she was something special. He didn’t move for a moment and I thought I saw him tearing up. I put my hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“Fried chicken or a hamburger?” he asked, still fixated on her face as if he was reading a menu there, but he was obviously trying to get his emotions under control. “I’m gonna bring you some dinner.”

“Not hungry.”

Dejected, he turned to go. “We egged her on.” His shoulders sagged like the old man he’d become before Cash got here, and I missed the cowboy swagger she’d given him.

“It’ll give her something to tell her grandkids.”

“Don’t think they’ll be grandkids,” he said knowingly, and I realized he must suspect that she would never marry.

I waited for him to leave and then locked the front door and made coffee. Ten minutes later, I took a cup mixed with milk and sugar, and knelt by her bedside.

“Cash, wake up.” I slipped my hand under her head and cradled her neck. “Come on, honey, wake up.”

Her eyes opened and a slight smile played across her lips. She murmured something that sounded like “honey,” and I felt myself redden slightly. “Doc said I should get some coffee down you.”

“He’s a crazy person, not a doctor,” she said as I tilted the coffee cup to her lips and she sipped. “No more, please. You don’t give people coffee for head injuries.”

“Seems to be working. You’re talking sense now. Dr. Flanders said I need to sleep in here with you tonight, in case.”

“Brilliant physician,” she whispered, and I smiled at her attempts at humor. I told her I was going in search of a more comfortable chair to pull into the room, but she stopped me. “Just sleep on the bed. It would take me two days and a forklift to make a move on you. And you can turn on the TV, it won’t bother me.”

I was ecstatic she was talking and crawled onto the bed beside her, building the pillows up behind me, but when I turned to her she was out again. I let her rest, content to gaze on her strong, beautiful features, all the while hoping nothing permanent surfaced as a result of this fall. After about fifteen minutes, it appeared she might sleep for hours so I jostled her slightly.

She moaned and put her hand up to her left eye. I instinctively covered her right eye. “Can you see anything?”

“Not with my eyes covered,” she joked softly, and I took my hand away. “Blurry.”

“We’ll check you in the morning. You should be okay. Buck did this one time in a bull-riding event.”

“If he finds out a pasture bull threw me, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“You can’t sleep in this outfit. Let’s start by pulling your shirt up over your head, can you do that?” Even with help, it was obvious she couldn’t. “Change of plans.” I scrambled out of bed and stood at the foot, scrutinizing her. “Pants first.” I came around to the side and unbuttoned her jeans at the top, then unzipped them, my hand brushing the satin-soft skin of her tummy. The sensation was riveting, an incredibly intimate moment as I slid the zipper down, my hand above the soft white cotton briefs. But I was too worried about her condition to linger on the sensation. Going quickly to the foot of the bed, I grabbed her pant legs and tugged. She yelped.

“It’s painfully evident that it’s been awhile since you’ve undressed someone. Pull them down from my waist,” she said, her eyes closed and a pained grimace on her face.

I grasped her jeans at the waist, my fingers over the top edge, and she tried to lift her hips, but the pain wouldn’t allow it. Bracing her back, I slid my hand down the inside of her jeans and managed to pull them down a few inches, then rolled her to one side to wriggle them off her hips. She wailed that I was killing her.

“Should have thought of that before you put your ass on a bull,” I said, to keep things light, as I finally managed to wrangle her Wranglers down to her knees and sighed with relief when the job was done.

“Not easy being gay,” she quipped. “That’s why men like women in dresses.” As she spoke, my eyes momentarily lingered on her striking body, slender and smooth and tan, before I pulled the sheets out from under her with less effort and covered her up.

“Okay, now the shirt.”

“How about if I sleep in it but just get the bra off?” She tried to rise and couldn’t so I slid my hands under her tee and wrestled with the bra hooks as she lay flat on her back. Losing my balance, I fell forward. For a second I lay there on top of her and she made no smart remarks—my hands trapped under her body, clasping her smooth back. My face to her chest, I could feel her rapid heartbeat.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No. Here, let me do it.” She struggled to get her arm through the T-shirt so the bra strap could be next, and when I tried to help, I touched the edge of her breast. I pretended it didn’t happen but the blood rushed to my face.

“I don’t think we want to put your arms back through this shirt now that we’ve gotten this far. How about if I get it off over your head and you sleep—”

“You own anything that fastens with Velcro?” she asked, and I immediately bristled at the idea that clothes for the arthritic would be anywhere in my closet.

“It’s a joke.” She moaned at my sensitivity. “You’re in better shape than I am.” Something about the way she said it made me feel younger. “I have to go to the bathroom. All that coffee. Get hold of my arms and pull and ignore the screaming. After that, you leave, I can do the rest.”

“Are you sure?”

“Who would know better than me that I have to go to the bathroom?”

“You know, if your body could move as fast as your mouth, you’d be well in three seconds.” I pulled with all my might, hoisting her to her feet as she screamed, then left the room to give her privacy and collect myself. “Don’t fall,” I said over my shoulder, and wondered which of us I was warning.

In my room, standing inside my closet, I sagged against the door to collect myself. After a few minutes, I quit trying to analyze the tidal wave of emotions and concentrated on finding a shirt that would fit her, a seemingly impossible task given our size difference.

Rummaging around in the bottom drawers of an old dresser, I located a very large T-shirt I’d won at a drawing at an Indian Casino years ago. I cut the neck open, starting at the neckline and heading six inches down to the chest. Then I took the scissors to the short sleeves, cutting them open underneath so they were nothing more than top-flaps. Ten minutes later, I re-entered Cash’s room to find her standing and clutching a small bath towel to her.

“I have constructed a plan.” I held the shirt up and, with one move, flopped it over her head, and with minimal arm moves she was in.

“Big Bucks.” She read the shirt front upside down.

“Appropriate, when you think about it.” I helped her get her legs back on the bed.

Crawling in beside her again, I flipped on the TV. She closed her eyes and before long she was asleep. Glancing at her pretty face, creased in pain, I tried to pretend I was merely a paid nurse, then thought about all the stories of nurses falling in love with their patients so I tried to concentrate on the bad cop drama I’d tuned to, then watched the late nightly news. Tired, I finally clicked off the TV and rolled over to go to sleep. I was warm and restless and decided to sleep on top of the covers. Soon I went from hot to cold, nearly chilled and shaking as if I was nervous.

I inched my way under the covers and slid down next to her, keeping an appropriate distance as she slept. Six inches away, that’s how far she was. I could smell her cologne when I moved the sheets.

Her face looked pained but perfect. I lay back and focused on the ceiling. She sighed and flung her arm out to her side where it rested against me. I didn’t move, nor did I move her arm, and I willed myself to sleep.

It felt as if I’d only been asleep a short time when the bed sheet quivered, and I turned to check on her.

She was perspiring and shaking. I jostled her arm to awaken her and ask if she was okay, putting my hand to her forehead, which was hot.

“Cold,” she said between clenched teeth.

“You’ve got chills. You’re probably in shock from the fall. Best thing is to take the covers off and let the fever burn out of you. I know you feel cold but you’re hot.”

“No, I’m freezing.” She clutched the covers, refusing to let me pull them off her and demanded more warmth. I got up and located a quilt on the top shelf of the closet and put it over her.

“Hurting any worse? Do you want me to call the doctor?”

“God, no.” She continued to quiver despite the quilt, then moaned.

“Eye or head?” I said, trying to isolate the pain.

“I don’t know,” she whimpered. I hesitated for a moment then rolled over, facing her, and put my arms around her, pulling myself in close to her since she was in too much pain to move. She rested her head on my chest and sighed, seeming to relax. Instead of pulling back, I moved in even closer and buried my face in her hair, suspending all internal conversation about what I was doing or thinking or becoming. Of the five senses, only touch seemed to be functioning, sending rays of warmth throughout my body. She was perspiring and the scent of her was mingled with my own perfume and the bed clothes smelled like wildflowers and she stopped shaking and we both fell asleep.

I awoke feeling cramped and realized I still clung to Cash, who appeared to be unconscious. I pulled away gently and slowly, but her long arms wouldn’t release me. Finally, I understood she was only feigning sleep.

“If I let you go, I may never get this back,” she said softly, her eyes shut.

“I can see that you’re feeling much stronger. You’re going to be fine.”

“I can never be fine again, because I’ve held you.” Her dreamy eyes opened and the pale blue sea reached out and floated me into her. Her large hands moved under the back of my shirt and the heat from them radiated up my spine as she massaged me. Her warm touch felt so good my body gave in and I relaxed and closed my eyes. Her thumbs ventured down to the base of my spine and she kneaded my lower back, which released all tension in my legs and sent pangs of longing through my groin. And then her palms gripped my buttocks and she squeezed me into her and my groan of pleasure was involuntary and unmistakable. I wanted her and she knew it. I had come alive, ready in that instant to be changed forever. My mind seized control of my helpless body, frightened by how quickly the world might turn upside down, and directed my actions. Now, like the wind, I shifted direction and whirled out of her grasp and sat up on the edge of the bed.

Without looking at her, I jumped up and left the room, but it was too late. Change had caught up with me, affecting not only my body, but trying to break free and make its way to my heart.

Five minutes later, Cash came out to the kitchen and I had no idea how she’d managed to get out of bed in her condition, other than being propelled by passion and youth. She came up behind me as I stood at the sink and slipped her arms around me. I pushed the good sensation out of my mind and steadied my voice.

“Cash, I’m not going to do this.” Her hands slipped away, indicating she knew exactly what I meant. I refused to be a summer fling, another of her conquests, a homosexual convert for one seductive summer.

“I didn’t ask you to do anything,” she said. “You held me and I want to believe that you wanted to.”

Of course I’d wanted to. Just crossing the room if she was in
it made my body vibrate as if I’d gotten too close to an electrical
current. And now holding her had escalated even those feelings.

“You should be fine on your own now,” I said, refusing to discuss what had happened, and I went to my room, the only place on the entire ranch where I could count on locking her out.

I hadn’t been there five minutes, my mind thrashing around as I tried to determine how I could interact with her now that this sexual tension had bound us more tightly than baling wire, when Cash shouted my name and announced that we had company as a horn honked incessantly in the driveway.