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With the fire breathing down from above, he begged the stallion to move faster. “Come on, boy, help me out here.”
Finally, he managed to get him into the aisle and out into the yard. When he saw Jon, he shoved the lead rope at the man. “Hold him—don’t let him go for anything.”
Joel turned back to see Brittany leading the mustang from the burning building. She’d removed his shirt from her face and had it tied over the mare’s eyes as a blindfold. Their exit created a surreal picture that played in what felt like slow-motion. Woman and horse taking one step at a time, silhouetted against the glowing flames behind them.
Another rafter crashed to the floor at the back of the barn, sending a spray of red-hot embers through the air. The mare reared up and Joel’s heart leapt into his throat when Brittany swung from the lead rope. She stuck the landing, but the mustang bounced right back into the air and wrenched the rope from her hands.
She stumbled in front of the rearing horse, and Joel’s breath seized in his chest as Gypsy came back down right on top of her.
He lunged forward with a shout as she crumpled to the ground beneath the deadly hooves.
Chapter 28
It felt like someone was hammering on her head. A steady pounding that kept time with the beat of her heart. Frowning intensified the pain and the slight swaying movement beneath her made her nauseous. Along with the overpowering stench of smoke.
“Brittany?”
Joel’s raspy voice made her open her eyes. His shadowed face hovered above hers. Concern clouded his expression and didn’t disappear even as a smile softened his mouth.
“Hey, you’re awake. How you doing?”
Her eyes had become accustomed to the dim light enough that she could see black smudges smeared across his forehead and cheeks. Her nose wrinkled. He smelled like smoke, wasn’t wearing a shirt, and she was half-lying in his lap. When she moved to sit up, a searing pain in her shoulder wrenched a gasp from her lips.
“Easy. Just relax.” He tightened his hold until she rested her head back on his arm. “We’re on our way to the hospital. Almost there.”
“The hospital?” Her voice croaked out of a raw throat that burned so bad she could barely swallow. Her gaze shifted toward the driver’s seat to see Mandy Cole’s profile lit by an oncoming car. Why was the young wrangler driving Joel’s truck?
“You got a pretty nasty bump on the head, and we couldn’t wake you up,” he explained.
Joel opened his door and slid his arm under her knees to slip out of the vehicle with her in his arms. “I can walk,” she protested.
He bent to set her down. Dizziness made her sway and blackness rushed in to crowd the edge of her vision. She made a desperate grab for his arm.
“I got you,” he assured her.
Something bumped against the back of her knees, and he eased her down into a wheelchair one of the ER attendants rolled out.
They took her to a room right away and transferred her to a bed. Lying on the white sterile sheets, she realized she reeked of smoke and was as dirty as Joel. She gingerly felt her head, then trailed her fingers down to feel blood matted in her hair. A shower sounded like heaven, but so did a nap. With the bustle of activity that filled the room in the next minute, she knew neither would happen anytime soon.
It was after one a.m. when the nurse finished cleaning the gash on her forehead and the doctor came in to give her nine stitches along her hairline. Her headache had subsided a bit, and her shoulder only ached now, thanks to the ibuprofen they’d given her.
“You’re lucky that horse’s hoof just grazed you,” the woman commented.
She was a whole lot luckier than that. They all were—her, the horses, Joel. He watche
d silently from the chair beside the bed, elbows braced on his knees. They’d let him clean up in the bathroom, and someone had found him a T-shirt. Red rimmed his eyes, making it look like he’d been crying, but she knew it was from the stinging smoke.
Her eyes burned for a different reason as guilt crept in. She should’ve given him the note right way.
“You’ll be able to go home later this morning, but with the mild concussion, you’re going to need someone with you for at least the next twenty-four hours. Forty-eight would be best.”
“I got that covered,” Joel said.
The doctor glanced at him, then focused back on her work. “Good. I’ll send you home with instructions.”
Home. The woman kept saying the word, and Britt realized it didn’t conjure up a picture of her place in Chicago. It didn’t bring to mind any one place. Instead, she found her gaze drawn to Joel once more.
Only he’d turned his attention to the door and risen to his feet. Britt looked over to see Aaron shadowing the doorway. He nodded at her, but stepped outside with Joel. She found herself straining to hear their low voices in the hall as the doctor finished.
