Page 151 of The Last Second Chance
She didn’t even get the full word out. Her head struck something hard and the world went bright white and then disappeared.
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“Son of a bitch,” Joey mumbled. She didn’t know how long she’d been out, but judging by the sun in the sky it hadn’t been more than a few minutes. Her head was pounding, her arm felt like it was being yanked off her body, and there was an uncomfortable pressure in her ankle. She did not want to open her eyes and find herself skewered on a fence post or something gruesome like that. But she needed to grow a pair and look around. If there was a million dollar horse running around free she was going to be pissed.
Something licked her face and she cranked open an eyelid. It was harder to do than she thought. Everything looked funny, including Waffles’ face. The fur around his nose was matted and red. “Crap! Are you hurt, buddy?” Joey said, the words slurring together in an incoherent string. Had she landed on the poor dog?
She moved her hand toward him and saw the red on her glove. Confused, she brought her hand to her head. Even through the glove she could feel the sticky wetness of blood. “Oh, man. That’s not good.”
Waffles whimpered and pawed her shoulder. Joey pried her other eye open and took a good look around. She was screwed. Apollo was not off gallivanting the countryside. He was standing stock still above her, his sides heaving nervously. Her foot was twisted in the stirrup and the rest of her was crumpled on the ground half under the stallion.
“Not good. Really not good.” If Apollo moved an inch, he’d trample her and it wouldn’t be pretty. “I hope that fucking ground hog left town,” she said to herself.
What the hell was she going to do? Her dad would be at least another twenty minutes, especially if the hammer wasn’t in the specially designated hammer spot. It could be a half an hour before he came back. She was out of sight of the brewery and the farm and she was stuck under a nervous horse that, if he didn’t trample her, would probably bite her out of spite.
She looked up.
“Oh my God, Apollo. Do not shit on me.”
She tried to tug on her foot, but it was good and wedged in the stirrup. And the movement only caused Apollo to shift his weight effectively scaring her into a motionless heap.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
She put her hand to her head again and looked at the fresh blood on the glove. “Why do head wounds have to bleed so much? It’s like a freaking sieve.”
Joey dropped her head back to the cold, hard ground and tried to brainstorm. It was like trying to solve world hunger while drunk on a merry-go-round. “Just whoa, okay, Apollo. Whatever you do, whoa.”
Her head was pounding so loud it sounded like hoof beats in her skull.
She was so sleepy. That probably wasn’t good. She was pretty sure sleepiness and head wounds were a bad combination, but she wasn’t sure why.
She felt Waffles tugging on her glove. She wasn’t in the mood to play though. “Not now, Waffles. Mommy’s tired.”
But Waffles wasn’t there anymore and neither was her glove. It was just her and the twelve hundred pounds of anxiety-ridden stallion. It was as good a place as any to take a little nap.
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Jax spottedForrest when the man rode up to the barn on Tucker.
Forrest gave him a curt nod. It was the friendliest greeting Jax had gotten out of him in the history of their relationship. “Joey sent me back for a hammer and staple gun. One of the horses pulled the wire off a gate in the back pasture.”
“Probably Romeo,” Jax said, holding Tucker’s reins while Forrest dismounted. “He loves to chew on fence posts. I’ll show you where the tools are.”
Jax tied Tucker to a hitch and they started toward the door. “How’s it going?”
“Well, she hasn’t thrown me off the property yet,” Forrest answered. “But you might want to warn Ellery that Joey’s none too pleased with her.”
“I’ll let her know to lay low for a few days.”
Jax pushed the door open just as a gray and white blur of fur hurtled around the corner.
“Geez, Waffles,” Jax said, as the dog ran a figure eight through his legs yipping.
“Waffles was with us on the ride, he must have followed me back,” Forrest said. “What’s that he’s got in his mouth?”
Jax gave Waffles the “sit” signal and held out his hand. The dog dropped the item neatly into Jax’s palm.
“It’s a riding glove.”
