Ned made soothing noises and rubbed his palm over his wife's shoulder.
Kaia paid no attention to any of them. She raced to her truck and got her medical bag. In two strides, she was beside Ridge, dropping to her knees and nudging Archer out of the way.
She might be a student, but she was in her final year of vet school and the closest thing to a doctor within fifteen miles. Never mind that her hands were shaking and her stomach quaking. Ridge needed her.
"Move back." She spread her arms and shooed the crowd. "Give him some air."
Everyone shifted, clearing out.
Okay. Good. She was in charge. Feeling more confident and in control, she took Ridge's hand, patted it firmly. "Ridge?"
His eyes were closed.
"Can you hear me?" She squeezed his hand.
He squeezed her hand in return. Strong, capable grip. Promising sign. "Yep."
"Can you look at me?"
He opened the eye that wasn't rapidly swelling, grinned roguishly. "Hey there, cutie."
The look in his eye, and his lopsided smile, shot an arrow straight through her heart. Good God, even laid out on the ground with a black eye, the man was a force of nature.
"How you doin'?" she croaked, sounding like a bullfrog with whooping cough.
"Great, now that you're here." The timbre of his voice was as deep and dark as his beard stubble.
Seriously, was he flirting with her? Her pulse cha-cha-chaed. Or was he just dingy from getting a kick upside the head?
The scent of his cologne drifted over her-a manly aroma of leather, bay rum, cardamom, and sunshine that set her nose twitching. Bits of dried grass clung to his thick whiskey brown hair, and the eye he had trained on her was bright and inquisitive and way too naughty, as if he knew exactly what she looked like naked.
And then there was that cocky grin, rising higher on the right side of his mouth than the left; a crooked, self-assured, never-mind-that-I-could-have-a-head-injury-come-play-with-me smile that unraveled her on a dozen different levels.
"Hand me a flashlight from my bag," she said to Archer, and stuck out her hand.
Archer slapped the mini Maglite into her palm like a scrub nurse passing a surgical instrument to a surgeon.
"This might be uncomfortable," Kaia said to Ridge, "but can you hold your right eye open, so I can check to see if your pupils are equal and reactive?"
He opened his swollen eye, immediately squinted it closed when she shone the light in it. The pupils reacted equally. A positive sign that he didn't have a serious head injury.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"You know my name."
"But do you know your name?"
He gave her a look that said, are you kidding me right now? "Ridge Lockhart."
"What day is it?"
"Friday, June 3rd."
"Where are we?"
"Silver Feather Ranch."
"Which horse did you tangle with?"
"Majestic."
Ridge was oriented to time, place, and person, and he could tell her what happened, another encouraging sign.
"Did you lose consciousness?"
"It was a TKO," Ridge said.
She glanced over at Archer for translation and confirmation. "What did he say?"
"TKO stands for technical knockout. Means technically, he's out, but he didn't get knocked out."
"And that means . . . ?" she asked, adding a sting to her voice. Men and their sports analogies.
Archer chuckled. "He didn't lose consciousness. His head is too hard for that."
"What?" Ridge protested. "You don't trust my word?"
"Stubborn as you are about admitting when you need help?" She shrugged. "Not so much."
"I don't remember you being such a smart-ass." Ridge was smiling at her, but he was watching her closely.
Kaia bit down on her tongue. Wise not to show how easily he could push her buttons. "Can you sit up?"
"Sure." He popped up to a seated position. Instantly, he paled, the blood draining from his face, a palm going to his right temple. "Whoa."
She put a stabilizing hand to his shoulder, felt his muscles twitch beneath her touch. "Dizzy?"
"Briefly. It passed."
"Take a few deep breaths." She moved her hand, pressing it against his back. Felt the hard steady throb of his pulse. The man had the heart of a lion, big and strong and fierce.
Ridge scanned the crowd. "I'm fine, people. Break it up. Go about your business."
"You're getting a huge shiner," Casey said.
"Damn," he mumbled. "It's gonna ruin your wedding photos."