Page 33 of Holding On to a Hero
Chapter Twenty-One
Will
The beep of the monitors told me I was back in the hospital. Shit. I knew how this was going to go. It was the same every time but all I could do was stew in my dread.
I forced my eyes open. The harsh overhead lighting revealed the uncomfortable-looking guest chair where Ally usually sat. I was lying on my side so I wouldn’t irritate the majority of my wounds. I couldn’t feel anything but I remembered the excruciating pain.
Even though I was expecting it, I still jerked when the door to the room opened. She came in, glaring at me as she walked to the bedside. When it had happened in real life, I hadn’t known who she was, but now I had no trouble recognizing Stephanie Robinton. Mother of Sarah. Who I had not saved.
I could do nothing but watch and listen in horror and grief as Mrs. Robinton castigated me for not saving her daughter instead of “those vile bitches”. I saw her fists clench and the vein in her forehead pop while tears ran down both of our faces.
“You should have saved her! Why didn’t you save my Sarah!”
She never let me answer.
Finally I was able to wake, sitting up on the bed and panting to catch my breath as I wiped the tears from my cheeks.
3:00am. I might as well get up.
* * *
A few hours later I was back by the beaver pond. I’d left the ranch three days ago, after Saturday night’s naked sexy times, as Cole put it, and more of the same Sunday morning. I hadn’t wanted to leave, but Jason and Cole had chores, and even though they’d asked me to hang out longer I didn’t want to overstay my welcome.
So I’d gone back to Ally’s house, dodged as much of her interrogation as I could, and spent the rest of the day editing photos of neglected sheep and playing Mario Kart with Abby. She got to be Peach again in exchange for reading three chapters of a Nancy Drew book.
Since then I’d texted with Jason a few times. I wanted Cole’s number too, but he hadn’t offered and I felt awkward about asking for it. Jason had asked when I was coming back, so we’d arranged for me to spend the day with them after I took my beaver photos this morning. I was driving Abby to school tomorrow morning so I couldn’t stay overnight. Dammit.
I kept reminding myself – over and over again – that I shouldn’t rush things with them. But having Cole and Jason’s attention was heady, like I was important and special. And the sex, wow. But I needed to take things slow, to make sure that my feelings – that I wasnotrushing – were real and not some sort of by-product of fangirling over Cole Washburn and his hot, hot boyfriend.
I finally remembered that I was here to take pictures, not moon over men I’d had all of two dates with. As was my new practice, I’d carefully scoped the area for the porcupine but didn’t see it. I now kept a long stick near my usual spot in case it came back. Porcupines can’t actually throw their quills, so my plan was to use the stick to push the animal away from me and then retreat to safety. Yep, totally heroic, just like Cole in one of his movies.
The day was beautiful already, a little warm but the sky was clear and the birds were singing. The beaver family was up and about and I got a few good shots.
I was tracking a red-tailed hawk with my camera when I heard a horse whinny across the road. Some sort of activity was going on in the paddock directly in front of the main barn but the tall grass and shrubs between me and the road was blocking my view. After carefully looking around for porcupines, I stood up.
The reddish horse I’d photographed the week before was in the paddock with a saddle on her back. Cole – I could tell it was him even though the lens I was currently using wasn’t quite strong enough to make out his features – was standing next to her talking to Arturo.
Was Cole going to ride the horse? That might make a great shot for the ranch’s website. I evaluated my options. It would take a few minutes to walk to the road for a clear shot, or I could use my long lens from here and try to keep the vegetation out of the frame. I decided to see what I could get without having to move. I quickly switched out my lens for the largest, longest – most phallic,don’t go there– one I owned. It weighed eight pounds and normally I’d use a tripod for it, but the tripod I had with me wasn’t tall enough for this shot. Hopefully my arm muscles would hold steady long enough. Maybe I needed to spend more time at the gym.
The new lens let me see details of Cole’s face as he turned toward the horse and gathered up the reins. The shrubbery wasn’t a problem, but from here the top of the fence kept interfering with my shot. I looked at the camp stool. The collapsible camp stool. No one ever said I made the best decisions.
I held the camera in my left hand and used my right hand to brace the stool. My right foot went next to my hand and then I popped my left foot onto the stool. Wobbling only a little thanks to the core exercises I did for my back, I stood up slowly and inched around until I was facing Cole and the horse. The weight of the camera was making it hard to keep balanced, but this angle was much better.
Cole was wearing a cowboy hat, a red long-sleeved t-shirt, jeans and boots. Hot damn. He was just getting on the horse and her red-brown coat stood out amazingly against the white paddock fence and barn behind them. I snapped shot after shot.
First Cole walked the horse around the paddock while chatting with Arturo, who was standing against the fence out of the way. Then he moved the horse into a canter. I got a beautiful shot with the horse’s mane flying and a huge grin on Cole’s face.
Without warning, a gunshot went off from somewhere close behind me in the wildlife preserve. I ducked instinctively, barely managing to keep balanced on the stool. Another shot rang out and I ducked again.
“Fuck!” I cried out. “You asshole! There’s no hunting in the wildlife preserve!”
I was going to shout more but noise from across the road caught my attention. I quickly brought my camera back up to my eye and found the horse had objected to the gunshot by going into a bucking frenzy. Cole was desperately hanging on. I snapped a few shots as his hat flew off. I mean, it’s not like I could have done anything to help.
Arturo was staying against the fence, but I could hear him calling out to the horse – or maybe to Cole – in a calming voice.
I jumped down from the stool – I’d regret that later – and packed up as fast as I could. By the time I got to the road Cole was off the horse and leading it around the paddock at a walk.
I crossed the road and stopped at the ranch’s outer fence. “Cole! Are you okay?”
