Country Roads(115)

“Julia! Julia, are you all right? Can you see me? What hurts?”

She felt the frantic but featherlight brush of his fingers down her body as she opened and closed her mouth like a beached fish. No words came out, just a few ragged gasps.

“Jesus!” He fumbled in his back pocket. “I’m calling nine-one-one.”

She rolled her head from side to side, trying to stop him. “I…I’m…” she gasped again, “fine…no…air…”

He ignored her as he pushed the buttons on his cell phone and held it to his ear. After a few seconds, he pulled it away and looked down at it with a scowl. “Goddamn it, there’s no reception here.” He turned his head and shouted, “Sharon, can you get someone to call an ambulance from your office?”

The spasm in her diaphragm eased and she managed to draw a shallow breath. “Don’t call. Just got the wind knocked out of me.” She wasn’t actually sure of that, since her focus had been on breathing and preventing his phone call. Now she tried to test her arms and legs with subtle movements so he wouldn’t notice. Much to her relief, no sharp jabs of pain resulted from her efforts. She struggled up onto her elbows.

“Don’t move,” he snapped. “You might be injured and not realize it.” His voice was rough but he cradled her head and shoulders gently, easing her back onto the ground.

She stayed down but grabbed his wrist and shook it. “No ambulance. I’m not hurt. Don’t embarrass me.”

“Embarrassing you is the least of my concerns,” he said.

Sharon’s face appeared opposite Paul’s. “Where does it hurt, hon?”

“In my pride,” Julia said, her voice still wispy.

The worry left Sharon’s eyes as she sat back on her heels. “You’ve got grit.”

“But no sense,” Paul said. “I want you to move one limb at a time. Slowly and carefully.”

Deciding she’d offered him enough provocation already, Julia obeyed. Satisfied, he slid his arm under her shoulders and helped her sit up, removing her riding helmet and probing her scalp for lumps.

“I shouldn’t have worried about your skull because it’s so damned thick,” he muttered.

A giggle escaped her, and she heard Sharon choke. No answering smile lightened Paul’s stormy expression as he pushed off the ground and rose to tower over her. “I have to go. Sharon, I’m counting on you to make sure she has no lasting damage.”

With that he turned and walked away, his gait stiff and angry.

“Guess that backfired,” Julia said, clasping the hand Sharon offered her and standing up.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Sharon watched Paul slam the gate shut, making Darkside dance away and yank at the reins tying him to the fence. “You got a pretty strong reaction out of him.”

“Yeah.” Julia sighed. “But it was the wrong one. He’s right back to thinking I don’t know what’s good for me.”

“Maybe he says that, but it’s not what he’s thinking.”

Julia gingerly explored the sore spots in her back. “What do you mean?”

“He couldn’t take his eyes off you while you rode Darkside. It was like you were some kind of goddess, come down from Mount Olympus. That’s how he looked at you.”

Julia smiled sadly as she remembered Paul calling her a wood sprite. “Then I went and fell off my pedestal.”

Her ploy had been a mistake right from the beginning. Instead of seeing her as strong and independent, Paul saw her as foolhardy and willful. Riding Darkside worked with Carlos because he didn’t know the horse’s history. Paul understood the size of the risk she was taking. Which should make him realize she was willing to take the risk of loving him. He accused her of having a thick skull, but his stubbornness equaled hers and then some.

Julia picked up her helmet and fitted it back on her head. “There’s one thing I know about falling off a horse.”

“What’s that?”

“You have to get right back on.”



Paul wrenched the wheel of the Corvette hard right, sending the car skidding onto the gravel shoulder. He shoved the gearshift into park and bolted out of the car. It was close but he reached the weedy verge before he bent over and threw up.

“Goddamned fish sandwich,” he muttered, his hands braced on his knees as he waited for the surge of nausea to subside.

But that wasn’t the culprit. It was terror, pure and simple. The terror of watching the huge black stallion toss Julia against the fence like a rag doll before he tore off around the field bucking and kicking, the metal shoes on his hooves flashing in the sun. All Paul could think of as he raced across the paddock toward Julia’s motionless body was Darkside’s previous owner in a wheelchair.