Page 75 of The CEO and the Mountain Man

Colt knew these trails like the back of his hand, but we needed his gun. Miguel could ride ahead, of course, but River needed him. Besides, we had one rider who was better than all of us.

“I can do it.”

Stevie’d swung Shorty around and was closer than I’d realized. She waggled her cell phone at me. I wanted to tell her no. She was fourteen, for fuck’s sake. But she could get down the hill to the open field twice as fast as any of us.

I turned to her dads, who were already nodding. “She just needs to ride out to that clearing down the way, right?” the country one asked.

“Yeah.”

“Then she can do it,” he said, with full trust.

“Do you know how to drop a pin?” I couldn’t believe I was about to put all of this on the shoulders of a teenager. “Share it?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, her eyes darting to Clark.

He shivered, pain shaking his voice. “Thank you, Stevie.”

“Welcome.” She sniffled and wiped away a tear as Colt took her phone and entered Lucas’s number.

“You’ll want to go to the middle of the clearing to drop the pin,” he said gravely. "You'll have service in that clearing. But take the satellite phone as back up. Just in case."

Colt tucked the satellite phone into Stevie’s saddle bag and she nodded, her expression more serious than I’d ever seen it. "Got it. I’ll get that pin dropped as fast as I can.”

Her dad whispered to her, then she and Shorty took off like a shot. We all watched as she disappeared over the rise, dust flying behind her.

I held Clark’s good hand as Colt searched the area for more rattlers. Thankfully, he found none. He then gathered everyone else and led them down the trail, leaving behind me, Miguel, River, Clark, and a backup pistol.

Throughout all of this, River had not stopped sobbing into Miguel’s neck. It was only then that I remembered he’d spent three hours with his mom’s dead body in that car. I couldn’t begin to imagine the living nightmare he was in right now.

Clark squeezed my hand. “I’m feeling woozy, and I don’t know how to help him.”

“I think Miguel is doing everything he can.” I stopped. “Wait, you’re feeling woozy?”

“I-I think I’m gonna pass out again,” Clark admitted, his voice going weak. “I’m so cold. But please don’t let me die out here. Don’t let me die in front of my son.”

I cupped his cheek. “My love.You are not gonna die. Lucas is already calling it in, and Stevie’s gonna make sure they know where to land, and you’re gonna be okay. Because you have to be. Because if you’re not, it won’t just destroy your son. It’ll destroy me too.”

“I’ll tr?—”

Clark’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, unconscious.

River’s sobs crescendoed. Miguel gathered him in his arms.

“River, Beau has your dad,” Miguel murmured softly. “He’s taking excellent care of him. And you saw how fast Stevie was around those barrels. She’s probably dropped the pin already.”

River smashed his face into Miguel’s neck, nodding, like he was trying so hard to believe him. I sent a prayer of thanks to whoever was out there for sending Miguel to us.

I wished I could take Clark into my arms and protect him from everything, make all of this better. Instead, I sat next to him, holding his good hand, my other hand covered in his blood, watching his chest rise and fall, and knowing my heart would never be the same.

Chapter 22

Clark

Riding around in a helicopter sounds great until you’re strapped to a stiff board with a broken arm and a busted head. But at least that came with morphine.

Absolutely nothing, though, would ever soften the agony of hearing my son beg me not to die.

I was in and out of consciousness on the ground but came to midair once they got fluids on board. Even with the good drugs, I felt every bump and draft, with River’s cries rebounding in my head.