Page 41 of The Rancher's Wedding

“Michael!” she shouted.

He was riding up toward the front, keeping an eye on the cows while steering them forward.

She pointed toward the bush and he saw it, pulling Buttercup to a halt and stopping the cows.

“Come on up here, Estelle,” he said.

She rode Orion up toward the front, where Michael handed her Buttercup’s reins as he dismounted.

“What is it?” Estelle asked.

“I’m going to check it out. Could be a field mouse or a rabbit. Could also be a snake.”

He walked toward the bush as Estelle watched him, worried. If it was, indeed, a snake, and it bit him, she didn’t know what she would do. Michael was experienced out here and could possibly walk her through it, but she couldn’t stand the sight of blood and had a terrible fear of snakes.

No, Estelle, she told herself,that was the old you. That was city-girl Estelle. You’re now country Estelle and there isn’t anything that frightens you.

She considered the thought for a second and corrected herself.

There ain’t nothin’ that frightens you.

Michael continued down the path toward the bush that had rustled before, then stepped away from the trail, the tall weeds covering more than half his body. She could still make him out, but the distance and the brush made it difficult for her to discern features.

She clenched the reins tightly, more out of nervousness than fear that Orion would run. She was hoping that she wouldn’t hear Michael scream, but expecting it to happen any moment.

Be brave, Estelle, she told herself.You might need to be strong to save his life. You can do this.

She pictured herself running over to him and somehow dragging his body out onto the trail, holding her head over him and asking him how she could help.

What if there was no way? What would she tell him, knowing that he perhaps only had moments to live?

What if this was like Michael and his parents—one instant, they were alive, and the next they were dead?

In her imagination, Michael’s breath became short and he was barely able to speak. The scene took hold of her mind. What would she do?

She would kiss him. Not for him, but for her. It would be her last chance to experience that kiss again. And, from there, she didn’t know what she would do. Another tear formed in her eye, and she brushed it away.

Be brave, Estelle. It’s probably nothing. And if it’s something, you can probably save him. He’s not going to die.

But what if he did?

What if he died right here, in the middle of nowhere and I was stuck with two horses, two dogs, and nearly a dozen cattle? What would I do then?

Her imagination failed her. She would have to abandon the cattle if she couldn’t get them back to the ranch, and perhaps Buttercup and the dogs, too.

And then what? She’d have to run the ranch by herself? Or with Jacob’s help? It was very likely she’d have to return to Pennsylvania. She couldn’t make it out West on her own.

She squinted in the distance, trying to get a glimpse of Michael, but she didn’t see him. Estelle thought maybe she could leave the cattle there for just a moment while she went to check on him.

He’s probably fine, she told herself.It’s only been a moment or two.

She agreed to count to thirty in her head and, if she made it all the way there, she’d go check on him.

One, two…

As she counted, the image of him lying in the field after a snake had bitten him burned in her mind. She closed her eyes, trying to push it away, focusing on the numbers.

Eleven, twelve…

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