Page 58 of Fall With Me (Sugarland Creek)

“Your brother will be rearranging my guts later, so I can’t do that,” Magnolia quips.

“Gross.” Noah laughs.

“You’re tellin’ me. I live above them.” I groan.

Magnolia pats his arm. “Oh, you poor baby.”

When the emcee announces Ellie’s name with her horse Ranger and mentions all her accolades in the pro rodeo, the crowd goes wild.

“Yes, Ellie!” Noah screams. “Go, go, go!”

Ellie smoothly rounds the first barrel and then quickly races to the next.

She looks beautiful as always in her pink cowboy hat and boots. Wavy, long blond hair flies around her neck as she twists around the second.

When Ranger rushes to the third, I get a better glimpse of her face. I notice her eyes are dazed and her cheeks are more flushed than usual. That could be from having to wait outside longer in this heat, but then I realize something’s off about her posture.

She should be sitting back with her arms stretched, but instead, she’s hunched as if she doesn’t have the strength to hold herself up.

As soon as Ranger makes the final turn, Ellie falls off him and smacks her head on the barrel before tumbling to the ground and then rolls until she ends up face-down in the dirt. I clutch Noah’s shoulder as an audible gasp echoes throughout the arena.

“Oh my God!” Noah sprints toward the exit to get down there, and I quickly follow.

My mind spins with a million questions about why she fell off in the first place. Based on how Ranger was turning, she shouldn’t have. Even on her worst training days, Ellie’s never fallen off like that.

The medical team rushes out while Noah and I run toward Ellie. We stay far back enough to give them room, but I keep my eyes on Ellie as one of the wranglers grabs Ranger and keeps him calm.

Noah quickly explains we’re Ellie’s trainers, and then they ask if she has any prior medical conditions or allergies.

“No, none,” Noah responds.

I can hardly breathe as I watch them check for a pulse and then place an oxygen mask over her face. Memories of Talia’s lifeless body resurface and the anxiety of what-ifs and worst-case scenarios sits on my chest. The last time I felt a panic attack come on this quickly was when I attended Tucker’s funeral. I still couldn’t believe he was gone when we’d just talked the night before he died.

A couple of the event’s sponsors rush over, trying to conceal Ellie’s body from the crowd.

“The ambulance is out front. Is she gonna be okay?” one of them asks.

One of the benefits of a larger pro rodeo event is they have their medical support team and ambulances on standby, so there’s no waiting to get her to a hospital.

“By the look of her pupils, shallow breathing, and hypotension, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a seizure. Won’t know for certain until we get her to the hospital.”

My heart stops and it’s at this moment I know why I can’t kiss another woman.

Because it only beats for Ellie.

I think it has since the moment I met her.

“Aseizure? Holy shit,” Noah blurts out.

Moments later, they put Ellie on a stretcher and carefully move her out of the arena. Before I follow, I grab Ellie’s pink cowboy hat that flew off because I know she’ll want it when she’s conscious.

Once I’m outside with Noah, we watch as they put her into the back of the ambulance and drive away.

“She’s gonna be okay,” Noah mutters, clinging to my arm as if she needs to say the words aloud for them to be true.

But I’ve never been more scared in my life.

Hospital waiting rooms are the bane of my existence.

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