Page 152 of The Last Second Chance
“Must be Joey’s,” Forrest said. “I think she was wearing a pair like that.”
Jax examined the glove closer and stooped down to look at Waffles who was yipping again. “Forrest, there’s blood on the glove and on the dog.”
Their eyes met and understanding and fear bloomed sharp and bright between them. Jax was running for Tucker and shouting instructions over his shoulder. “Go to the brewery and get Carter’s Jeep. Meet me where you left Joey and bring a cellphone.”
He swung up onto the bay’s back and kicked him into gear. Tucker, sensing the excitement, launched into a canter.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” Jax chanted to himself. It was probably just a scrape. She was messing with the wire and cut herself.
Waffles was racing alongside him and Jax knew that a cut on the hand was not what he’d find. He felt the cold fist of fear clutch at his gut and urged Tucker on. The big bay wasn’t usually a sprinter, but he mustered everything he had for this uphill haul.
When Jax crested the hill, his heart stopped. He immediately reined Tucker in to a careful walk. He got as close as he dared with Tucker before pulling him to a stop.
“Joey?” Jax called out not loud enough to spook Apollo who looked like he was just looking for a reason to run.
He slid off Tucker’s back and tied him to the post and walked as quickly as he could without freaking out the stallion.
“Joey,” he said again, leaning over her. There was blood in her hair, over her forehead, drying in her eye. Her beautiful, pale face looked like a crime scene.
“What?” she grumbled. Waffles scooted over and curled up next to her, resting his head on her shoulder.
“Joey, open your eyes and look at me.”
“I fell off my horse,” she said on a sing-songy sigh. Some of the fear that had iced in his gut started to thaw.
“I can see that, Jojo. You’re laying on the ground under Apollo.”
“I told him not to crap on me. I think I have a concussion.”
Jax shook his head. Joey never lost her cool in any situation, including this one.
“I think that’s a pretty good bet. Good thing you hit your head and not something else.”
“You’re trying to make a hard-head joke and I think that’s highly inappropriate.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Listen, baby. I need to get your foot out of the stirrup, but first I have to make sure Apollo doesn’t move, okay?”
“He bites.”
Jax stood up and approached the stallion’s head. The horse’s brown eyes were wide with nervous energy. “It’s okay, bud. You did good. Way not to trample the woman I love,” Jax said, taking the horses reins and securing them to the gate. “Just let me get her out from under you and you can go back to your nice, warm stall.”
He traced a hand down Apollo’s neck, over the horse’s shoulder so the mount knew where he was. “Joey?”
She didn’t answer him.
“Joey,” he said a little sharper and felt Apollo start to shift against him. “Sorry, boy. Didn’t mean to yell.”
Jax nudged Joey’s free leg with his boot. “Joey, wake the fuck up.”
“Jesus, I am awake,” she said with a bad-tempered pout.
“Good. Listen to me. I’m going to pull your foot out of your boot, okay?”
“It’s cold.”
“I know it is. But I have to get your foot out of the stirrup.”
“Gynecologists have stirrups too, you know.”
