Rancher's Covert Christmas

“Fine,” Brady replied grudgingly, and he handed off the glass balls he’d gathered to Dave. “Okay, Santa Claus. I’m out. You have the conn.”

Dave responded with a snort and an eye-roll that made Erin chuckle. He repositioned the ladder, which rattled and creaked as he settled it closer to the tree.

“I can’t wait to see it all decorated and the lights glowing.” She turned to Zane, her face lit with enthusiasm, her cheeks and nose pink from the cold. “I love Christmas. Even more than spring. And my birthday’s in spring, so that’s saying something, because I really love celebrating my birthday.”

His chest tightened as he gazed at her. Her eyes reflected a childlike glee that reminded him of Christmases past, rising before the sun with his brother and sister, filled with exuberance and anticipation. As she stood in the winter sun, gazing up at the spruce tree, her breath clouding in the chilled air, Zane finished his earlier interrupted thought. Spruce green. Erin’s eyes were the same color as a Christmas tree, he decided as a he felt a small hiccup in his pulse.

He gave himself a mental finger-thump to the forehead. Don’t go all hearts and flowers over her in the first five minutes, dork. Such an impetuous reaction to a woman was more his flirtatious brother’s style than his own. Zane preferred time to build an opinion based on his interaction with a person.

Pragmatic. Reasoned. Grounded. He prided himself on being everything an oldest sibling should be, even if his age advantage was only five minutes. So why did Erin evoke such a visceral reaction from him?

He cleared his throat and tipped his head toward the guesthouse. “I’ll just put your luggage inside. Then, whenever you’re ready, I can—”

A loud snap crackled through the winter air like a gunshot. In the next instant, the tall step ladder where Dave perched buckled and collapsed. He toppled to the ground, landing with a thud and a feral cry of pain.

Chapter 3 (#ud0e994ef-21a1-51ef-8250-3ad136980580)

Erin gasped her shock and concern as the handsome ranch hand crashed to the frozen ground. If his guttural shout left any doubt to his injury, the odd angle of his leg did not.

She clapped a hand over her mouth as a wave of nausea roiled through her at the gruesome sight. Zane abandoned her bags and brushed past her as he rushed to aid his friend.

“Call 9-1-1!” he yelled to no one in particular.

Pulling her glove off with her teeth, Erin fumbled her cell phone from her purse and tapped in her security code with a trembling finger. She squinted at the screen, trying to make out the image against the glare of the winter sun. Her signal reception was weak at best.

Josh hustled past her. “Landline’s more reliable. I’m on it.”

As Zane’s brother ran toward the main house, Erin faced Zane and Dave again, her heart in her throat. Surely she could do something to help. Yanking her knit scarf from under the collar of her coat, she balled the scarf as she dropped to her knees across from Zane. “Here,” she said, handing him the messily folded neckwear. “Put this under his head.”

A pillow may be a small thing under the circumstances, but she had little else to offer at the moment. And standing idly by while the cowboy suffered was not her style. Action was her go-to mode, and her brain was ticking through more options for the crisis, even as Zane tucked the knit scarf under Dave’s head.

As if sensing something was amiss, the dogs barked and paced the yard. When the black-and-white dog tried to nose in next to him, Zane pushed the dog back. “No, Ace. Lie down.”

The foreman and Brady appeared at the door of the barn across the yard.

“What happened?” Brady called as he trotted toward them.

“Ladder collapsed. Dave broke his leg, maybe more,” Zane returned in a clipped, efficient tone, despite his obvious worry. With a wave of his hand, he directed the father and son to, respectively, fetch someone named Helen and to go to the end of the driveway to flag down the ambulance when it arrived.

Zane’s take-charge leadership impressed Erin, as well as the way that the other men followed his directives without demurring. Zane’s father had indicated as much, as well. Though the McCall siblings and Brady Summers were equal partners in McCall Adventure Ranch, Zane was the gatekeeper, it seemed.

Zane held one of the injured man’s hands, letting Dave squeeze his fingers as he writhed and groaned. “Stay still, buddy. I know it hurts. Help’s coming.”

Seeing Dave’s other hand at his side, his fingers clenched in a tight ball, Erin lifted his fist into her lap. Cupping his fist between her palms, she stroked his taut knuckles with her thumb and muttered, “Hang in there, cowboy.”

Zane’s gaze darted to her, then dropped to her comforting gesture as Dave loosened his balled fingers to grip her hand.

“Thanks,” Dave rasped, casting a quick side glance to her before scrunching his eyes closed in pain. His breathing was shallow and rapid, and she didn’t need to be a nurse to know hyperventilating was not what Dave needed.

“Hey, Dave,” she said, jostling his hand to get his attention. “Will you try something with me?”

Both Zane and Dave peered at her with curious looks.

“You need to calm your breathing, so I thought we could do some yoga breathing together. Will you do it with me?”

The injured cowboy furrowed his brow and stared at her with shock in his eyes. “Yoga?”

Though Zane’s expression was equally leery, she could see his concern for his friend outweighed his skepticism. “What do you have in mind?”

She fixed her gaze on Zane and his stunning blue eyes sent a tremor through her. With her host’s penetrating gaze on her, she needed the relaxation technique as much as Dave. “Calming breaths. You do it with us.”

Dave scoffed quietly between gasps and grunts.

Patting his hand firmly, she directed him to inhale with her as she counted two beats in her head. “Now exhale slowly for four seconds.”

The cowboys both blew their breaths out through their mouths.

“Through your nose, gentlemen. You’re not having a baby, you’re trying to relax.”

Her comment earned her odd looks from both men, but they followed her example as she inhaled again and let her exhale draw out twice as long. “Now inhale for three seconds and exhale for six.”

Dave’s demeanor calmed, his hyperventilating quieted, and Erin’s pulse slowed, too...so long as she didn’t look into Zane’s piercing eyes. Meeting his celestial-blue gaze was a bit like staring at the sun. Doing so for too long was risky, as if he could sear something deep inside her with his laser-bright stare.

She continued walking them through the one-to-two breathing ratio for a couple of minutes until Josh ran back across the ranch yard and skidded to a stop beside them.

“Ambulance is on the way,” Josh said as he spread a heavy blanket that he’d brought out over Dave. Josh was panting from exertion and stress, and his tense energy and ragged breaths distracted her students.

Erin felt the tension reenter Dave’s grip as his eyes darted to Josh, and she saw the muscles in the injured man’s jaw flex as he gritted his teeth. She snapped her fingers in front of Dave’s eyes and, with a nudge of his chin, brought his attention back to her. “Right here, cowboy. Focus on me.”

He gave her a pained grin and rasped, “My pleasure. You’re a...heap prettier than either of these...chumps.”

“Thank you. Now, less talking and more slow breathing, friend.” She flashed him a bright smile, and from her peripheral vision, she noticed the frown that Zane divided between them.

Dave followed her directions for a couple more breaths, then with another thin grin that reflected his agony, he added hoarsely, “Any chance I could...repay you for your kindness?” He paused to drag in another breath. “Dinner sometime maybe?”

Now Zane’s whole body tensed, his brow forming a deep V as he sent the hand a hard look.

“Why, you flirt!” She sent the injured man a wink. Anything that helped distract him from his pain was acceptable in her book. “I just might have to take you up on that.”

“What about Helen?” Josh said, and Zane arched a raven eyebrow and cocked his head as if to say, Yeah, what he asked.

“Helen?” She gave him a scolding pout.

The ranch hand grimaced, clearly from his excruciating pain rather than the shame of being caught out. He gulped a couple shallow breaths. “It wouldn’t be...a date, so what’s...wrong with it?”

She gave him a disapproving grunt, then tapped his nose with her finger. “Through your nose. Let’s start again. Three-second inhale...”

Her coaching was interrupted again as a woman’s distress cry reached them through the chill air. Erin and the men all turned to look toward the back of the main house where the foreman appeared with a young woman wearing a stained apron and no coat. She ran toward them, calling, “Dave! Oh, my God, Dave!”