Christy Jeffries - The Maverick's Christmas To Remember

“If you’re healthy enough to complain, you’re healthy enough to wait your turn.” Drew’s eyes flickered briefly over Craig before he slipped a Velcro cuff onto the arm of the unconscious woman, whose head was still propped up just below Craig’s chest. “Besides, I’ve seen you take worse falls off a bucking horse back in the day. Now, hold still while I get her blood pressure.”

“But he’s not a young buck anymore,” Ben said, wiggling his eyebrows with humor and making Craig feel every one of his thirty-five years. The hard floor underneath him and the odd angle of his body weren’t helping the uncomfortable stiffness settling over him.

“I could still outride you,” Craig challenged. “Unless you’re getting in a lot of saddle time in between shifts at that fancy hospital of yours in Billings.”

“Possibly,” Ben said, passing him a glazed twist that had landed halfway on top of a piece of wax paper. “I haven’t seen you move that fast since Brown Fury slammed you up against the pen in the midstate finals.”

“That bull was one mean son of a—”

“Should I call someone?” Josselyn asked, interrupting Craig’s reminiscing about his rodeo days. But it was either talk about something else to get his mind off the injured woman currently on top of him or lie here thinking about the last time he’d been powerless to help a different injured woman.

“She’s stable,” Drew responded. “But we should get her to the hospital in Kalispell to have some tests run.”

Having grown up on his family’s ranch in Thunder Canyon, Craig was no stranger to small towns and medical emergencies. The people there were used to taking care of their own. Not that this particular lady was his own. Hell, he didn’t even know this woman resting so peacefully against him, the porcelain-white skin of her cheek relaxed against the red plaid checks in his shirt. But if the doctors said they could drive her from Rust Creek Falls into Kalispell, then that was what they would do.

As Drew and Ben gently lifted her off him, Craig left his uneaten donut on the floor and rose to his feet, tamping down his impulse to scoop the woman into his arms and carry her himself. After all, he was the one who’d saved her from a second blow to her head when he’d landed underneath her. That kind of bond made a man feel a certain responsibility. But Ben already had her off the ground, with Drew stabilizing her head as they walked toward the door. Which was probably for the best considering they were both trained in moving patients, whereas Craig was better trained to haul her around like a bale of hay.

“I’ll grab her purse,” Josselyn said as everyone seemed to spring into action.

Craig had barely enough time to scoop up his fallen hat and make it outside to open the back door of his crew cab truck. He quickly hopped up and slid across the seat to help gently maneuver the unconscious woman inside. He found himself with her head resting on him again, but at least this time it was on his lap as he sat upright on the bench seat. If he’d wanted to badly enough, he probably could’ve switched spots and let Drew sit back here with her. However, Craig had already taken on the rescue role inside the office and he didn’t feel right about abandoning the poor lady now.

He had to shift his hips carefully in order to fish the truck keys out of his front pocket and pass them to Josselyn, who volunteered to drive so that Drew could be available to check the woman’s vitals during the twenty-five-minute drive. Ben, realizing that there wasn’t enough room in the truck, decided to drive Josselyn’s car back to Sunshine Farm.

“Who should I notify?” Ben asked, and all eyes turned to Josselyn.

“Um, she works for Vivienne Shuster, but Viv and Cole Dalton are in Fiji on their honeymoon. Like me, she’s new to Rust Creek Falls, so I’m not really sure who she’d want me to call locally. I think her parents are college professors or something but I don’t know where they live.”

It seemed so intimate to be talking about the personal details of a woman he’d never met. A woman whose brown hair fell in soft waves against the denim of his jeans. Craig cleared his throat. “What’s her name?”

“Caroline Ruth,” Josselyn said, then put the truck into gear.

Caroline.

Her body was slender and petite, but she had curves in all the right places. A rush of shame filled him as he realized he was blatantly staring at an unconscious lady. An unconscious and vulnerable lady with a body encased in delicate, clingy feminine fabric that would never suit life on a ranch. Not that Caroline looked like the type to spend much time working in the outdoors. He narrowed his gaze toward her high-heeled sandals and the bright pink polish on her toes. She never would’ve fallen off that chair if she’d been wearing sturdy boots and functional jeans. But she was a wedding planner, so what did she know about physical labor?

Josselyn took a bend in the two-lane highway a bit too sharply and Craig instinctively wrapped his hand around Caroline’s waist to make sure she didn’t accidentally tumble off the seat. The touch sent an electric vibration up his arm, making him feel like even more of a creep, so he yanked his hand away quickly, but didn’t know where to put it. Lifting his elbow to the top of the backrest, Craig studied her face for signs of pain or discomfort. Fortunately, she appeared to be completely relaxed in her unconscious state, almost as though she were blissfully at peace.

Caroline Ruth was definitely an attractive woman, he’d give her that. Still. He was in no position to be noticing such things, and she was clearly in no position to be receiving his unwanted attention. Craig shifted guiltily in his seat and Caroline’s eyes suddenly shot open.

“Hey there,” Craig offered weakly. What else was he supposed to say to a complete stranger with her head in his lap? Caroline smiled dreamily at him before her lids fluttered closed and she was out cold again.

Chapter Two

Caroline heard steady beeping before feeling something squeeze around her upper arm. It took considerable effort to raise her eyelids, and when she finally got them to stay open, there were a few seconds of blurriness.

Where was she?

What had happened?

“She’s awake,” a woman said, and Caroline blinked several times until the light fixture in the middle of the white ceiling came into focus. She wiggled her toes as her hands flexed against something that felt like a starched sheet. Was she in a bed? She was definitely lying down.

“Caroline?” someone else asked and she turned toward the voice, her eyes narrowing on the person standing beside her. A woman with steel-gray curls and smooth skin the color of dark copper placed a calming hand on Caroline’s shoulder. “Can you hear me?”

“Where am I?” Caroline asked.

“You’re in the emergency room at Kalispell Regional. I’m Dr. Robinson. Do you remember what happened?”

Caroline shook her head and then flinched at the stabbing pain that shot through her forehead.

“Careful, now,” the doctor continued. “From what I understand, you hit your head pretty hard. Your friends brought you in and we did an MRI while you were still unconscious. We think you have a concussion, but we’d like to get a CT scan of your brain to rule out anything more serious.”

“My friends?” Caroline asked, then turned toward the other woman in the room. She sighed when she saw Josselyn Weaver on the other side of her bed.

“Hey, Caroline.” Josselyn squeezed Caroline’s hand, accidentally dislodging some little white wires and causing a shrill beep.

“Don’t worry. It’s just the oxygen reader,” the doctor offered, putting the plastic device back over Caroline’s pointer finger. “You up for answering some questions?”