A Bridge Unbroken (A Miller's Creek Novel) (29 page)

"Read my mind."

A boyish grin curled his lips, and his blue-gray eyes teased. "I just know you better that you'd like to believe. But seriously, don't worry about stuff. It's okay."

It's hard not to worry, but you're right." Especially when fear had a death grip on her throat.

"What are you afraid of?"

Good question, but where did she start? "So many things." She sunk her teeth into the tender meat of the rib. It pulled away from the bone and practically melted in her mouth.

"Such as?"

"Afraid I'll end up where I started." And of everything that would come with it.

Understanding shone from his face. "You know I'll do everything in my power to keep that from happening."

She nodded and peered out across the front pasture, the tall wheat-colored grass rippling in the breeze. "I'm also afraid to tell you the real reason I left Miller's Creek the first time."

His eyes searched hers. "Why are you afraid?"

"I'm not sure you can forgive me."

"Try me."

No, she'd said enough for the moment. "I know I need to, and trust me, I want to tell you. But I--I can't right now, Chance. Not with everything else that's going on."

His shoulders heaved in apparent disappointment, but he nodded. "Fair enough, but once all this is over..."

"Okay." A shiver rippled through her.
God, give me strength.
"What about you? What are you afraid of?"

His eyes took on distance as though reminded of memories long past. "Like I said last night. These stupid scars."

Compassion seized her heart. "Oh, Chance. When I look at you, I don't see scars. I see you."

Their gazes locked with an intensity that shook her to the core. She needed him. Needed to feel the comfort of his embrace.

In a heartbeat, they were in each other's arms, his soft lips claiming hers. She clung to him like a baby, her knuckles white from gripping his shirt. When the kiss finally ended, she rested her head against his chest.

His rapid pulse pounded in her ears, and he snuggled her close, his cheek against her hair, as though he'd never let her go. How long had it been since she'd felt so loved? So comforted? So protected? And did she have the strength to pull away from it when she needed his embrace so badly? How would she ever recover when the truth was out and he no longer wanted anything to do with her?

Tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked rapidly to bring them under control, but it was no use. Fatigue had proved her undoing. Dakota lifted a shaky hand to her face to swipe away tears before he could see.

Chance shifted, and one finger tilted her chin upward toward his microscopic perusal. "Hey, what's wrong?"

The perfect opportunity to pull away and escape his piercing gaze. She sat upright and sniffled. "I'm just tired, and it's turning me into a weepy mess."

He pulled her back into his comforting embrace, and planted a kiss in her hair. "Oh, sweetheart, it's okay."

No, it wasn't okay, but she felt powerless to do anything about any of it.

"You're under a lot of stress and strain right now. I was the same way after they put the steel plate in the left side of my head."

Dakota pulled back to look him in the face. "Steel plate?"

Chance lifted a finger to trace the general location. "Had to have some way to keep my brains from falling out." He smiled and winked.

"That's not funny." That steel plate in his head was her fault, for running away from him in the first place. Would the consequences of her sin never stop rearing their ugly heads?

"Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood." He kissed her head once more, then made a move to stand. "Ready to get back to work?"

Yes. That was exactly what she needed. Anything to ground her in the here-and-now.

Chance helped her to her feet. Once the food was put away, they headed back to the creek to finish the job of rebuilding the bridge.

As the afternoon wore on and fatigue set in deeper, Dakota's heart grew heavy and more confused. Finishing the bridge was one more thing to cross off the lengthy to-do list. One more step that moved them closer to the end. Though she longed to stay on the farm, to put down roots, to explore the possibility of a life with Chance, he deserved to have his dream of re-opening the drugstore come true. The only way that would happen was if she could pay him back. And the only way to do that involved selling the farm. Though hard to even consider, he'd be better off once she was out of the picture.

As the sun sank in the western sky, Dakota nabbed her water bottle from the bridge railing and stepped back to enjoy the fruits of their labor. Crack! Without warning, the board beneath her feet gave way and a gaping hole appeared. The world went upside-down for a split second. Then she landed, her right ankle between her and the rocky soil, the underside of the bridge shielding her eyes from the sun.

"Dakota!" Chance scrambled down the steep embankment, his face panic-lined. "You okay?"

She groaned. "Give me a second." Dakota moved her neck slightly. No problem there. Next she moved her arms and fingers. All good. Left leg? Yep. It worked. Then she tried to move her right leg from beneath her. Pain shot white-hot flares. "Ayyy! Something's wrong with my right leg."

Chance knelt over her, his face near hers. "This might hurt, Dakota, but I've got to get you up this embankment to level ground so I can check your leg. And just so you're prepared, this is probably going to require a trip to the hospital."

Hospital bill on top of everything else? Not if she could help it. She gritted her teeth as Chance scooped her in his arms and looked for sure footing to make it up the slope.

Once on level ground, he sat her down gently and checked her leg. "Any pain here?" His fingers probed around her knee.

"No. Lower." As in throbbing lower. "I think it's the ankle."

He lifted her pant leg, and sucked in a deep breath. "Here?"

Throbbing waves crashed, starting at her ankle and exploding through her body, bringing forth a throaty scream. "Yes. Is it broken or just a sprain?" The words made their way from behind her clenched teeth.

"Can't make that call without an x-ray."

She moaned and covered her face with her forearm. Why this? Why now? "Let me just lie here a second. Then I'll try standing."

His face appeared in front of hers. "Not advisable, Red. Based on what I just saw, the sooner we get you to the hospital the better."

She pounded the ground on either side of her with both fists. "Oh, all right."

Though Chance placed her sideways in the pickup seat and rolled up a blanket to elevate the ankle even further, the throbbing pain continued all the way to the hospital. Once in a room, Chance hovered over her. "How you doing?"

"Just great. I can't seem to catch a break for anything."

A deadpan expression coated his face. "Wouldn't be too sure about that. A break might be exactly what you caught."

She backhanded his arm. "That's not what I mean, and you know it."

A lazy grin stretched his lips outward. "Least I made you smile."

A doctor entered the room, iPad in hand. "Hey, Chance." He shook hands with Chance, then moved to the bed and stood above her. "Hi Dakota, I'm Dr. Phillips. What happened?"

The nurse in Chance took over. He explained all that had happened and her pain level.

Dr. Phillips nodded and tapped his tablet with a stylus. He set the small computer on a nearby counter and donned a pair of plastic gloves. "This won't be fun, but I have to determine if further tests are needed." He moved to the end of the bed and began his probe.

Fireworks exploded in her head as he manipulated her ankle. Dakota clutched the sides of the bed and practically ground her teeth to nubs to keep from crying out. With every brief break from the pain, she caught a quick breath for the next round.

Finally, he stopped, removed the gloves, and tossed them in the trash. "You already have considerable swelling and bruising. Based on your pain level, I'm going to order several images to figure out exactly what we're dealing with."

"Several?" How much would that cost? "Won't a simple x-ray show what's wrong?"

"Not necessarily. That's why I'm adding an MRI to the x-rays of the foot and lower leg, just to make sure there's not more damage than we're aware of."

Dakota stared at the ceiling, unsure of what hurt worse, her ankle or her almost-nonexistent cash resources. Why hadn't her book sale deposits showed up in her account yet? She made a mental note to check when she got back home.

Chance patted her arm, his way of saying that he'd handle it if need be. At this rate, she'd be indebted to him for the rest of her life.

Two hours later, after the x-rays and endless waiting, the results were in. Not broken, but a level-two sprain. A representative from the accounting department handed her the bill as Dr Phillips strode into the room. "You're fortunate it wasn't broken."

Her heart climbed into her throat as she eyed the bill. Yeah, fortunate, and more destitute than ever, to the tune of about fifteen hundred dollars. She glanced over at Chance. "Get me out of here, before they start draining my plasma to pay the bill."

Once in the lobby via a wheelchair which Chance graciously pushed, Dakota unzipped her wallet and removed her debit card. This would all but zap her savings, but once her book royalties landed in the bank all would be well. She slid the card through the scanner.

The receptionist, who multi-tasked on paperwork while she manned the checkout, glanced at her computer screen. "Hmm, it says payment was denied. Try again."

Once more Dakota scanned her card.

The other woman shook her head. "No go. Do you have another way to pay?"

Heat crept into Dakota's cheeks.

Chance stepped to the side of the wheelchair. "Here, let me--"

"No, I've got it." Dakota pulled out her one and only credit card, one she kept for emergencies like this, one she hated to use. She located the strip and ran it through the scanner.

A line of people backed up behind them, their growing aggravation evident in the glares, comments, and huffy sighs.

The receptionist shook her head. "That one's not working either."

The heat in Dakota's cheeks zipped to the top of her head.

Chance knelt beside her, his eyes kind and gentle. "Please let me help."

A few minutes later they were on their way back out to the farm. Dakota rested her elbow against the door of the pickup and laid her cheek against her fist. Chance must think her a complete idiot. "I'm sorry, Chance. I don't know what's going on. I'll call the bank and credit card company as soon as we get home." Why had both cards been denied when she rarely used them? Something was definitely amiss, one more thing in a long line of misses.

Back home, Chance helped her to the couch. "I'll give you some privacy while you make your calls. Be back in a little bit to check on you."

She nodded, grateful for the reprieve. As soon as he stepped out the door, Dakota dialed the bank. "This is Dakota Kelly. My debit card was denied earlier today and I need to know why. According to my checkbook, I have enough money in my account to cover the bill I tried to pay."

The voice on the other end took the necessary information. "Miss Kelly, according to our records, you withdrew all your funds last night and closed out your account."

Her breath caught in her throat. "That's not possible." She almost added the fact that she was in jail last night, but that couldn't help matters.

"Well, according to our computers, you closed the account at seven fifteen p.m."

While she was out to dinner with Chance?

"Look, I don't know what's going on, but I did not withdraw funds or close the account. What do I need to do to get this resolved?"

"Just a moment please." Several agonizing minutes of blaring phone music later the woman's voice came back on the line. "My supervisor suggests that you report the incident to the authorities. It may be that your account has been compromised. We'll check into things from our end as well"

That's all they had to say? Contact the authorities? As in the ones who'd locked her up last night? A heavy sigh whooshed from her lungs.

"Was there anything else I could help you with?"

Dakota scratched her head. What she wouldn't give to be able to pace right now. "Yeah. I normally have an electronic deposit in the middle of the month. Would you check to see if that made it to my account?"

"No ma'am. The last electronic deposit was last month."

The blood drained from her head, and she brought fingertips to her forehead to rub away a blossoming headache. This was getting weirder and weirder. Okay, now add contacting her publisher to her quickly-growing list of financial to-do's.

Once the call ended, Dakota flipped the credit card over to the back to locate the number for the billing department. She punched in the number, then listened to fifteen minutes of crackly music until someone answered. She gave the person on the other end of the line the necessary security information.