Page 2 of Blazing Hot Nights
My best ranch hand—and best friend— Beauregard Hanson, stood up from the tomato plant he’d been checking and ran toward us.
“Halt!” I called to Rapunzel, and she did what she was told.
“What happened?” Beau asked, holding Heaven on the horse while I dismounted.
“Accident. We need to get her into the house.”
“We need to call an ambulance,” he said, but he was already helping me lift her down. We carried her into my old farmhouse. The house was hot in the summer and cold in the winter, but Heaven always loved it. She said it had character. It was with her encouragement years ago that I started the renovations on it during my downtime. If I was ever going to get it finished, I was probably going to have to hire someone. I could afford it, but my pride wouldn’t allow it.
I laid Heaven out on the couch and checked her over again, making sure to tuck her tiny left arm up to her chest to protect it. This woman was going to be the death of me yet. Not only was she all fire and sass, but she was gorgeous in a country girl kind of way that always made my groin tighten when I laid eyes on her.
My wife once said Heaven was the epitome of small-town beauty. Her long, brown hair curled naturally around her cheeks, and she often held it up with a baseball cap from the local feed store. It was when Heaven let it hang free under her blue Stetson—trimmed in rose ribbons—that I wanted to lock her in my bedroom with me forever. The hat was a gift from her father at her graduation and a gift to me every time she wore it, which wasn’t near often enough.
Heaven moaned, her soft, sleek neck bobbing up and down once when she swallowed. All I could think about was the one time I got to kiss that neck. It made my cold, dead heart thump in my chest again for those few moments my lips were on her skin. I hadn’t kissed her since that day four years ago, and my heart hadn’t beaten in that way since. Although, it sure as hell almost beat out of my chest when I saw her in that creek.
All I could think about was the last time I found her unconscious with her arm twisted beneath her at a stomach-churning angle. That was five years ago today. The worst day of my life. The day I lost everything.
She moaned again, and then her eyes opened, pinning me with a pair of blue eyes the color of the Wisconsin sky on a winter day—bright blue with a touch of white puffy clouds in all the right places.
“Blaze?”
“The one and only, angel.”
Beau chuckled, but I ignored him and waited for her to gather her wits about her.
“What happened?” she asked, trying to sit up. She grimaced when she moved, and I crouched down, holding her in place.
“Stay down. You might be hurt. I found you in that wreck of a truck of yours, upside down in the creek.”
The way she stared into my eyes with a vacant look in hers told me she no doubt had a concussion. She probably needed a doctor, but I knew Heaven Lane, and she wasn’t about doctors unless she was dead.
“My truck is in the creek?”
“Hanging on by a thread to the bridge. If the trailer snaps free, it’ll be submerged,” I reiterated. “You’re damn lucky I was riding the fence and found you.”
“Remind me to build you a shrine.”
Beau snickered, and I shot him a look that saidknock it off. He didn’t. He kept snickering.
Her snarky tone saidsame old Heaven, which in this case, eased my worry.
She rolled her eyes, but they struggled to come back to the forward-facing position. Suddenly, she grasped my shirt and gasped. “You have to go back down there! I’d bet my ranch there’s a board missing! I heard a crack and then I remember tipping. You know how bad the bridge decking has gotten. It was only a matter of time before something bad happened.”
Without removing her tiny hand from my shirt, I glanced at Beau. “Take Rapunzel and run back down there. See what you see. Also, call Sheriff Nash. He’ll need to let the county know the bridge is out.”
“You got it, boss,” Beau agreed, jogging out of the house.
“Let me get you some water,” I said, jumping up just to put distance between us. “You took a good knock to the head. You should probably see a doctor.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted, sitting up and swinging her feet down to the floor, but she grimaced and rubbed her left shoulder. It was already nothing but skin and bones, but I noticed now she held it at a funny angle. I gave her a raised brow, and she sighed, “I’m a little beat up but no worse for wear. Better?”
“Debatable,” I said, hot footin’ it to the kitchen for a glass of water and some ibuprofen. When I returned, Heaven hadn’t stood up, but she was trying to clear her head. “I’ll call Dawn and get someone up here to take you home,” I said, handing her the glass and the pills.
“Can’t,” she answered, swallowing the medication with a drink of water. “They’re all out in the fields cutting hay.”
I held up my finger and walked to the front door, where I shucked my wet cowboy boots and set them outside the door on the wraparound porch. My socks were sopping wet, and I dumped them off on the tile by the door before I joined her again.
Heaven had gotten to her feet and stepped into my space. She was going for chest-to-chest, but her tiny five-foot-two frame was dwarfed by mine at a full foot taller while barefoot. She was trying to rile herself up for a fight, but I could tell the accident had taken a toll on her.
