Cowboy on Call Read online

  “Nick—”

  “I won’t leave the Circle H! I’ll stay here with Daddy!” Then he pulled Ava across the yard, through half a dozen cars in the parking area and they raced toward the barn. “I’m going to see my kitten!”

  The blood drained from Olivia’s face. “I didn’t realize he could hear us. I haven’t talked with him yet or made a firm decision.”

  “He had a point, though. And what would Logan say?”

  “He won’t want us to leave town, but...” She watched the children disappear into the barn and stifled the need to go after them. “I didn’t mean to upset Nick. I’ll give him a bit of time, then talk to him.” She hesitated. “But I have to think about my business, too. Our means of support.”

  “Olivia.”

  Determined to avoid any more talk with Sawyer, she left him standing there and started toward a small group of other guests gathered near the porch. On the front steps, Blossom held her bridal bouquet aloft. An excited bunch of younger women were waving their arms, hoping to catch the spray of white roses, baby’s breath and calla lilies and be the next to marry.

  After she’d made the toss, Blossom came down the steps, her gait somewhat impeded by her gown and her obvious pregnancy. Her unhappy previous relationship was behind her now. This baby, although not hers with Logan, would be born into love, would be cherished...as Olivia cherished Nick.

  Blossom said, “Thank you for the gorgeous quilt.”

  “My pleasure. Best wishes.”

  Olivia said goodbye to Blossom, then started toward the barn. She was halfway there when nine-year-old Ava burst outside and tore up the hill, her eyes wide as she barreled into Olivia.

  She caught the little girl’s shoulders. “What is it, Ava?”

  Breathless, she could hardly speak. “Nick! He fell. I think he’s dead!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  SAWYER HAD FINALLY found a chance to speak to Logan. They had just started to talk, when a little girl he didn’t recognize shot out of the barn, waving her arms and shouting. Halfway up the hill, she ran straight into Olivia, and Sawyer watched Olivia’s face turn white.

  Logan was already running toward them. “Nicky!” he yelled. “Nicky!”

  As if his boots were glued to the spot, Sawyer stayed where he was. For a guy who’d always responded to any crisis stat, who’d studied and interned, done his residency and practiced medicine under the worst trauma conditions, he couldn’t seem to move.

  Nicky. His nephew’s name alone should have galvanized Sawyer but didn’t. He heard the girl’s words echo, sounding thick inside his head, as if both ears were plugged. Dead.

  A dozen images of disaster flashed in his mind. A man pulled from the rubble, one of his arms crushed. A pregnant woman, her cuts and scrapes ignored as she went into labor on the hard, rock-strewn ground, moaning in pain. A precious child...

  From behind him, Blossom loped across the lawn, holding up her bridal skirts, then passed him by. Several other late-leaving wedding guests rushed with her to the barn.

  And still he didn’t move.

  After a long moment, he realized Olivia hadn’t, either. With one hand over her mouth, her blue eyes wide circles of fear, she stood there, frozen like some ice statue. The little girl clung now to her skirt.

  “Stay here,” he said, finally forcing his legs into motion. On his way past, he lightly touched Olivia’s shoulder. “Let me check out the situation.”

  She didn’t answer. Pulse thumping, he left her and, like some caboose at the end of a train when he was used to being the steam engine, followed the last people into the barn.

  He couldn’t see through the circle of wedding guests in the aisle, their bodies blocking his view.

  “Move back. I’m a doctor,” he said but in a weak tone.

  Logan was the last person to obey his order. He’d been down on one knee, bending helplessly over his little boy. Sawyer felt the same way. Those other images kept running through his brain.

  He pushed the memories aside. “Let me see, Logan.”

  Logan didn’t have a trace of color left in his face. He got up but his gaze didn’t leave his son.

  Sawyer’s nephew—the small blond boy he’d never seen in person until tonight—lay half-conscious, sprawled on his back on the barn floor. His skin gray, his eyes closed, he looked almost peaceful.

  Sawyer assessed his condition—airway, breathing, circulation. He preferred the few photos he’d seen of Nick, his birth announcement with a newborn picture attached to the email, the baby looking as if he were already able to smile, and later a first-birthday party shot of him in his high chair. Happy times in which he’d had pink cheeks and bright eyes.

  He felt Nick’s fine-boned wrist again for a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief. “Light,” he said, adding silently, and a bit thready. He didn’t want to worry people.

  Blossom drew Logan close. He rested his forehead against hers. “Thank God.”

  His hand shaking, Sawyer raised each of Nick’s eyelids to assess his pupils. He didn’t like the look of them. “Come on, Nick. Talk to me. Squeeze my hand.”

  Show me something here. Though he knew Nick was still alive, the word dead kept spinning through his mind, reminding him of that other child who, because of Sawyer, wasn’t breathing any more. He examined the boy’s legs, his arms, searching for fractures.

  “No obvious breaks,” he said, turning to Logan. Sawyer wouldn’t mention a possible skull fracture. Nick needed a more thorough assessment than he could provide here, and he was no neurologist.

  The little girl who’d called for help had entered the barn with a woman who must be her mother. She was vaguely familiar, but his focus stayed on Nick.

  Without glancing at her again, Sawyer asked the girl, “What happened here?”

  Her voice quavered. “Nick was mad at his mom. We came to the barn. I thought we were going to see the kitten, but Nick climbed the ladder to the hayloft instead. He told me to go away.” She began to cry. “I didn’t see how it happened. But he fell.”

  Sawyer patted Nick’s cheek to stimulate him. He heard a shuffle in the aisle. A couple of people shifted to let her through, and Olivia was finally there, moving like someone in a bad dream.

  Sawyer said, “He must have hit his head pretty hard. He’ll need a neuro consult, but first...” He looked around. “Where’s Doc?” he asked, referring to the local physician who’d treated Sawyer as a kid. There weren’t many choices in Barren, and Sawyer supposed he was Nick’s doctor now. “I saw him earlier at the reception.”

  “He went home,” Blossom murmured.

  “You’re here,” he heard Olivia say in a firmer tone than he might have expected. Or no, it was exactly what he expected. It was almost an accusation, and another memory assailed him. Sawyer and Olivia, racing their horses across that nearby field until...he hadn’t yelled a warning in time. Did she think of him now as a last resort?

  His stomach heaved. I can’t do this, especially for my brother’s kid. If I can’t trust my judgment, what use would I be? Once, he’d exuded confidence with what had amounted to a typical god complex. Kedar had changed that.

  Sam hurried into the barn carrying a neck collar to stabilize Nick for transport. “Got this after I tangled with that cow. I called an ambulance.”

  “Won’t get here soon enough. He needs to go now.” The collar was too big but Sawyer made a few adjustments. It would do.

  He studied his brother and Blossom. He felt as helpless as they looked, even though he was the one who’d gone to med school. He’d practiced in a foreign country, often without proper medical supplies and equipment, especially in those days after the landslide when Sawyer’s sense of powerlessness had finally overwhelmed him. He felt the same way now.

  He glanced at the open barn doors, seeking escape.<
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  * * *

  THE COMPLEX OF buildings at Farrier General Hospital squatted just off the highway in the next town from Barren. Olivia hadn’t been here in three years, since her marriage had ended after the spring flood when Nick almost died from pneumonia. Every smell reminded her of that night she’d nearly lost him.

  Her nerves on edge, Olivia gazed down the hall again but didn’t see a familiar form approaching. For the past few months Olivia had been seeing another antiques dealer from Kansas City, and she would have welcomed his presence now. But so far, Clint was nowhere to be seen. She’d left him a message about Nick, but she certainly didn’t feel Clint’s support.

  Earlier, she had gone into Nick’s ER cubicle with Logan, concerned for their son’s welfare, together in a new show of unity. Blossom had stayed in the waiting room where they joined her now while Nick was having tests. Logan was still pale and Olivia imagined she must appear chalk-white herself.

  “I’m sorry your honeymoon is delayed,” she said for want of something else to say.

  Nick had been taken to the imaging center and Olivia tried not to imagine the worst again. At least he’d fully wakened in Logan’s truck before the rush with Sawyer to Farrier. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? She wished Sawyer would come back to the waiting room with a report for them.

  “We can take a honeymoon anytime.” Logan reached for her hand to still Olivia’s constant fussing. “Try not to worry, Libby. I know how you are.”

  “As if you aren’t just as worried.”

  “Does it show?” Like someone who had wandered in from some production of a play and was still in costume, Logan was wearing his wedding clothes. A few grains of rice dotted the shoulders and lapels of his navy blue blazer. He’d long ago given his yellow pocket square to Blossom who, in a chair opposite, was crying softly into her hands.

  “It shows,” Olivia said. She glanced toward the elevators. Still no sign of Clint. Maybe she’d been right that even dabbling in the dating scene again was a bad idea. “Of course it shows. What’s taking so long?”

  “Don’t ask me.” He looked at her. “Reminds you of the flood, doesn’t it? Being trapped at the ranch? I feel as helpless now as I did then.”

  Olivia shuddered. Nick’s temperature had kept spiking higher, and she and Sam hadn’t been able to get it down even with cool baths. “I thought you’d never get there.”

  He arched an eyebrow. When the waters started rising at the Circle H, Logan had been in Wichita for his job as a test pilot for a small manufacturer of private jets. Now he was a rancher again, though she wondered if that would last. “Lucky we did. After I reached your brother’s place, we rode cross-country in the pitch-black, praying our horses wouldn’t run into a barbed wire fence we couldn’t see.” That only reminded her of the horse she’d lost in that same field. “I’m still sorry, Olivia, that I wasn’t there for you sooner.”

  Briefly, she leaned her head against his shoulder. “You came,” she said. “That’s all that mattered.” And at one time, she’d thought he was everything she needed. “I shouldn’t have spent so much time blaming you.” Three years, she thought, until this past spring.

  She straightened, her heart tripping. Sawyer was coming down the hall toward them at last. She couldn’t tell from his face what, if anything, he’d learned.

  Logan shot to his feet. “Well?”

  Sawyer put out both hands, palms down. “Relax. He’s okay. No real damage.”

  “Then why aren’t you smiling?” Olivia asked.

  Sawyer seemed not to hear her. “He doesn’t quite know what happened at the barn but that’s nothing to worry about. He’ll remember. His pupils are equal and reactive now...”

  Logan shook his head. “That reminds me of Sam. While he still had his cast on, he decided to take a horseback ride, prove he was fine—and fell in that same barn aisle. He still has some residual effects from his concussion.”

  “He had two falls? All I ever heard was he’d broken his leg.”

  “Maybe you should check in more often,” Logan muttered.

  Obviously, their reunion hadn’t gone well, but she’d picked up on something that mattered even more to her. He’d said no real damage. “What’s wrong, Sawyer?”

  “Probably nothing, just me feeling twitchy.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “The hospital wouldn’t send him home if they thought he wasn’t okay. They’re going to release him tonight...into my care.”

  He didn’t seem to want that responsibility, and Olivia wondered why. Although he’d finally come with them to the hospital, she’d resented his hesitation at first. True, he didn’t know Nick very well—in fact, not at all—but did he not like children? Or was he holding a grudge? He and Logan hadn’t been close for a number of years, but that couldn’t be all. As a doctor, Sawyer was bound by an oath to treat those who needed him.

  Had he been reluctant to help Nick because of her?

  Because his “help” years ago had only led to tragedy for Olivia.

  * * *

  HOURS LATER, at the ranch, Olivia and Logan settled Nick into bed upstairs while Sawyer paced the family room. If he were the admitting physician at Farrier General, Nick would be in a room there overnight under observation. Or was Sawyer still in panic mode?

  All he could think of was another pending disaster. The wrong diagnosis. Something Sawyer had missed at his clinic with someone else’s child. Those nightmares haunted him every night and sometimes during the day until his hands shook and his heart beat like thunder.

  If he had to diagnose himself, he’d say post-traumatic stress disorder. PTSD, like a soldier after battle, which in a way he supposed he was. Certainly the long hours, the deprivations, the constant stream of crises coming through the clinic door after the landslide should qualify as traumatic. For sure, his error in judgment did.

  And then, as if he needed more, there was Olivia. Being back had already made clear her ongoing mistrust of him. Earlier, she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

  He turned to make another circuit of the room. The house, the yard, were quiet. The reception was long over. The caterers had packed up and left, and not a single car remained in the makeshift parking area. The nearby kitchen looked immaculate. The neatness all around should have calmed him, its sense of order and all the trappings of civilization.

  What could happen here? But of course, he knew, and not only because of Nick. Because of Olivia.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs and, before Sawyer could finish his thought, Logan walked into the room. He’d ditched his blazer and tie and rolled up his white shirtsleeves.

  “He asleep?” Sawyer asked.

  “Drifting in and out, I think.”

  Olivia had wanted to take Nick home to their house in Barren, to his own bed for the night, but Logan wouldn’t hear of that. Olivia would stay here with Nick, and the newlyweds would spend their first night of marriage on the Circle H, close enough to make sure Nick was okay before they even thought about leaving on their honeymoon. And perhaps most important, this was where Sawyer would be staying. He was supposedly in charge for the night. Nick had been released only because a doctor would be present.

  His palms began to sweat. And as he’d expected earlier, his brother wasn’t happy with him. Nick’s accident had only delayed their talk.

  “I appreciate you finally coming back,” Logan said. “Even if you didn’t make it in time to be my best man. But I’m still mad.”

  “Because I showed up late? I’m sorry, but I’m here now.” His brother appeared a lot calmer than Sawyer felt. His reluctance to explain himself warred with his longing to reconnect with his twin. He wanted to hear Logan call him Tom again, as he used to do, a teasing play on his name.

  “Hell, Sawyer, you didn’t even bother to answer my calls.”

  Okay, he co
uld give Logan this much. “I run a clinic in a remote area. You can’t imagine how remote. I bet you’ve never heard of Kedar. In the heart of the Himalayas, the highest, most rugged mountains on earth. You think the Circle H can be hard to get to?”

  “Hard enough,” Logan murmured. “Three years ago, we nearly lost Nick right here when a spring flood blocked the roads to town and washed out the driveway. He and Olivia were stuck, trapped, in fact—I wasn’t home—and Nick was very sick.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “If Grey and I hadn’t forged our way from Wilson Cattle over the hill on horseback, he could have died of pneumonia. So yeah, I know hard.”

  “Maybe so, but those people I work with have very little. To them, the Circle H would seem like paradise—except they love those mountains. Even my sat phone doesn’t always work there.” He added, “If it did, I would have called you back.” Yet his phone had been working fine before the landslide; his cell, too, most of the time. “I imagine Grey Wilson must have done a good job as best man in my place.”

  “He did. But how would I know about your sat phone—or anything else? Sawyer, the last time I talked to you, about Sam’s accident, all I got was ‘I’m here and there, doing this and that.’ That was months ago. And then there was your silence about the wedding. We’re brothers. Why didn’t you tell me where you were? What you were doing?”

  Sawyer took the verbal lashing. He had been secretive about his clinic, about his life there. For one thing, Sam wouldn’t have approved. For another, Sawyer’s decision to leave the Circle H—in part because of his feelings for Olivia—had been immature, and though he didn’t regret opening the clinic, he was sorry for the way he’d left things at home. Not sharing much about Kedar had been a way to avoid dealing with how he’d treated his family. He wasn’t proud of running out on them, but it was obviously his MO.

  Logan wasn’t finished. “After Mom and Dad died, you and I were never apart for more than a day or two until you left here for good. Left me with the Circle H,” Logan said. “And that’s all I get from you now? Some weak excuse? I mean, what’s the point of living in a place like you describe?”