Chasing Clovers (11 page)

"
It's almost over, sweetheart," he assured her, while Shorty pressed and poked at her knee.

John watched as she bit her lower lip and squeezed her eyes shut. Tears flowed down the sides of her face and disappea
red into the pillow.

"
I'm done for now," Shorty said.

"
Well, is it broken?"

Shorty shook his head.
"It's dislocated." He glanced down at Livy, passed out again from the pain, her head lulled to the side on the pillow. "I'll have to put it back in place."

"
You're sure?"

"
Yes. Give her this to bite on." He broke a piece of wood from the splints John had used and handed it to him.

John swallowed and his stomach turned at what lay ahead.

"
This is going to hurt like hell," Shorty mumbled.

John opened Livy's mouth, coaxing the stick inside.

Shorty climbed up onto the bed. Placing one knee on either side of Livy's leg, he positioned his hands on her. "Ready?"

"
As ready as I'm gonna be." John sprawled across Livy's chest, holding her down once again. Shorty yanked hard on her calf. Her eyes shot open, she tossed her head, bucked beneath him, and screamed as she bit down on the wood in her mouth.

Shorty ran his hand up to her knee, grabbed it, and pulled once more. They heard the loud
pop
, and she went limp under John. He glanced over at Shorty whose nod told him the knee was back in place.

Off of the bed now and looking harried, Shorty
's chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath. "We need to wrap her knee tight. Do you have an old sheet we can use?"

He
went to his room and ripped the sheet from his bed. There were no spares, but he'd sleep without one for her. Back in Livy's room, they tore the sheet into strips and wound it around her knee.

"
She may have a concussion. We don't know how hard she hit her head," Shorty told him.

Relieved
, John asked his next question, "What about internally?"

"
I don't know, but time will tell us that. Watch for fever, unusual bruising, or if she's in any other pain other than her leg."

"
What then?"

"
Let's hope we don't have to find out." He placed a pillow under her knee. "You're going to have to elevate her leg to bring the swelling down."

"
I can do that."

"
Give her a teaspoon of this if the pain's too much for her." He pulled out a brown bottle from his bag, and set it on the table beside the bed. "I'll be back to check on her in the morning. Come get me if things get worse."

"
Thanks, Shorty."

"
Don't thank me yet, Boss." He gave Livy one last look, and left the room.

John
dipped a cloth into a basin of cool water and began wiping the blood from her cheek and nose. This was the second time in a week he'd cared for her. The first was when she ran into the wall after seeing him naked in the tub. That was funny, but this was serious.

Once he
'd gotten most of the blood off her face, he ripped her tattered, bloodied dress away, leaving nothing but her chemise on. He pulled the sheet over her, leaving her knee exposed, and placed two pillows under it as Shorty instructed. Livy stirred, but did not wake up. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting with her before Ezekiel came in.

"
I can sit with her Boss, while you go down and eat."

"
Ben and Emily?" He'd forgotten about them until now.

"
I've put the young 'uns to bed."

He
ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "Thanks."

"
No thanks needed. It was my pleasure." He came over to stand beside John. "Now you go get some food in you, while I sit with Miss Livy."

John glanced over at her. "You come get me if she wakes up." He needed to eat if he was going to sit with her all night.

"
That I will Boss, that I will." Ezekiel took his seat and turned his attention to Livy.

He
checked on Ben and Emily. They were fast asleep. He bent and kissed each one before he headed downstairs. When he entered the kitchen he was surprised to see Clive sitting at the table with a plate of food in front of him.

"
How she doin'?" he asked, his mouth full.

"
She has a bad sprain."

John grabbed a plate, dished up the chicken pot pie Ezekiel had made, and sat down across from Clive.

"
Found the mare."

"
That's good."

"
Not really. Took us a while to find the saddle. The cinch was cut."

H
is fork half way to his mouth, he said, "What did you say?"

"
I said someone cut the strap on the saddle."

"
What?"

"
John. Who saddled that horse?"

He dropped his fork and stood up so fast his chair flew back and crashed onto the floor.
"Rusty." He was out the door and down the steps in seconds.

"
John," Clive yelled after him.

He
didn't remember crossing the yard to the bunkhouse. He was in a rage when he threw open the door and shouted for Rusty.

The other man stood up clumsily from his bunk. "Yeah, Boss?"

He headed straight for Rusty, grabbed his shirt and pushed him up against the wall. "You son of a bitch, you've played your last trick."

Eyes filled with fear, Rusty stammered, "I…I don't know what you're talkin' about Boss."

John thrust him against the wall, making it rattle. "I'm talkin' about that horse you saddled today for Miss Green. The cinch on the saddle let loose. She fell and is hurt. She could've died because of you and your damn jokes." His hand came up, clutching Rusty's neck, choking him.

"
I… didn't," Rusty tried to say, gasping for air. "I… mean…I …wouldn't…play…a…trick …on…you." His fingers clawed at John's hand around his throat. "I…checked… the….saddle… everything… was… good."

"
Don't lie to me." His other hand came back ready to punch him, when someone grabbed John's arm and hauled him back.

"
John, calm down. Let him talk." It was Clive. His arm against John's chest, he held him away from a terrified Rusty.

John pushed Clive aside.

"
You better not be lyin' or you'll not only have John to deal with, but me too," Clive said.

Rusty rubbed his neck, his voice shaking, "I ain't lyin'. I'd never play a joke on a lady. I checked that saddle. I checked the cinch, honest."

"
You're full of shit. You played one of your tricks earlier," John barked.

Rusty's eyes filled up with tears. "I'd never hurt anyone."

The bunkhouse wa
s quiet as all the hands listened. John's chest heaved in and out as he glared at Rusty, every muscle in his body tense. "Pack your things and be gone by morning."

"
John, aren't you bein' too harsh?" Clive tried to reason.

"
No." His dark gaze studied all of the men in the room. "Let his mistake be a lesson to all of you that I won't stand for screw ups like these on my ranch. Not when my family is concerned and definitely not when someone could've been killed." John pushed past Clive and stormed out of the bunkhouse, slamming the door behind him.

He was furious. He
trusted those men, trusted Rusty. He wound up and punched the side of the barn, smashing his fist through the wood, and knocking red paint flakes onto the ground. Pain sliced up his arm, and his hand throbbed.

"
Son of a bitch," he yelled, cradling his arm close to his chest.

He thought about what he had done, and he felt like shit. He wanted to believe that Rusty hadn
't played another one of his pranks. But he wasn't sure. He shook his head. Hell, he wasn't sure of anything lately.

He thought he saw the truth in his eyes, but having no choice, he had to make an example of him. He had to let his men know that he wouldn
't put up with these kinds of mistakes on his ranch.

"
Damn it." He brought his arm back to hit the barn again, but thought better of it, and instead squeezed his hand together. He welcomed the pain, and watched the blood drip down his forearm. If Rusty had checked the saddle and it had been fine like he'd said, then what the hell happened? Did someone tamper with it? One thing was sure, he would damn well find out.

CHAPTER NINE

Boyd watched as the boss stormed into the bunkhouse, yelling Rusty
's name. Stepping back into the corner, he watched the scene unfold. By the look on John Taylor's face he was out for blood and to Boyd's pleasure, it was Rusty's.

The bunkhouse grew quiet, and all eyes were on
the two men. John threw his shoulder into Rusty knocking him into the wall, and he had to restrain from jumping with joy. He never liked Rusty. He always seemed to get the easy jobs around the ranch, while he and some of the others got the harder, longer ones. Most nights when he'd come in sore and hungry after a long day out in the field, Rusty would be licking his fingers having finished his meal, or—even worse—lying fast asleep on his cot.

But as
he listened closer, he realized that the boss was accusing Rusty of putting a bad cinch on Angel's mare. He smiled. Rusty had saddled the mare―he had watched him do it. But none of them knew that the boy had frayed the strap so she'd fall. Boyd had planned to wait in the bushes to attack Angel, but was stopped cold when he saw John riding alongside her.

Damn
. The boy never said anything about that. Little weasel. He would have a few words with him, next time they crossed paths. He needed to think of another scheme for the kid.

Annoyed that his plan had been cut short, he couldn't get the images of Angel's naked and writhing body out of his head. He kept re-playing their one night together. He desperately needed to touch her. He needed to have her. He was delirious with want, and his cock grew hard while he stood in the shadows of the bunkhouse. Angel didn't know he was on the ranch, and he would use that to his advantage.

Clive was pulling John off of Rusty now, and the boss didn
't look too pleased about it. He snickered when he saw Rusty almost cry. What a whinin' fool. A pitiful sight if he had ever seen one. He couldn't even stand up for himself. He could've clapped when the boss fired the baby, all too glad to see him go.

John had left the bunkhouse, but first he warned them all not to m
ake the same mistake as Rusty. He didn't care what Taylor said. The threat did nothing to alter his plan.

He
glanced over at Rusty, who was shaking hands with Clive. The men sauntered over to say their goodbyes, and he thought he'd better go too, even if he didn't want to.

Rusty glanced up at him, while he packed his gear. They'd never gotten along. "Come to say goodbye too, Boyd?"

He
wanted to spit in his face. "Too bad you were so careless."

"
Go to hell, Boyd."

Not before you
.

"
You know damn well I didn't do nothin' to that saddle," Rusty jammed a pair of denims into his bag.

He
scanned the room to make sure no one heard their conversation. "Guess you should've checked the cinch."

"
I did check it," he snapped.

"
You should always check twice, you never know what could happen around here."

"
What are you talking about?" Rusty asked confused.

Boyd gave him a knowing smile and shrugged.
"All I'm sayin' is you can't trust everyone around here." He didn't like the way Rusty was eyeing him, and he needed to get away before he said anymore.

"
Do you know somethin' Boyd?"

"
Nope I don't," he sneered.

Lying on his bed, he
listened for Rusty to gather his stuff and leave. He waited until everyone was asleep, and then slipped out of the bunkhouse to follow him
.

CHAPTER TEN

Emma lay on the bed kicking her infant feet while she screamed. Angel picked up her daughter and held her cheek to hers. Sh
e was hot. Too hot. Her face beet red, and her blonde spiky hair drenched in sweat. Angel paced the floor while she bounced her daughter in her arms.

"
Shush baby, it's okay, Mama's here."

Em
ma screamed louder, her breath leaving a sour smell in the air.