Falling Softly: Compass Girls, Book 4 (11 page)

“Shit.” Viho plopped down beside his father again. “That sucks.”

“You could say that.” He reached behind his neck and unfastened the necklace. “Maybe this thing is cursed, who knows. And it’s horribly old fashioned. Plain. Especially with Sterling being in the business. Well, it’s probably not the right thing at all. But if there ever comes a time you want to ask her properly to marry you…”

Viho’s eyes bulged as Jake held out his hand, the ring dangling from the fine gold chain.

“…I’d be honored if you’d use this.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Viho choked on the million things swirling inside his brain simultaneously. “Th-thank you.”

He accepted Jake’s precious gift, staring at the glinting diamond in his palm. It wasn’t plain at all. It was classic. A gorgeous solitaire, set in a delicate feminine band of yellow gold.

“It feels right, Viho. Like things that were always meant to be are starting to fall into place.” Jake smiled sadly as Viho fastened the chain around his own neck and tucked the diamond inside his shirt, close to his heart. “It might take time, but I believe it’s going to work out. For you and Sterling, your baby, maybe even for you and me. If that’s what you want.”

“I do.” Viho stuck out his hand to Jake.

His father didn’t accept it, though. Instead, he crossed the gap between them and gave Viho a one-armed man hug, complete with a smack on the back. “Me too, Viho. Me too.”

“So then you’ll help me out here?” Viho gestured to the garden.

“With these stumps? Hell no, that’s a young man’s job.” Jake laughed.

“Not that.” Viho laughed too, though he wasn’t nearly as youthful as some of the hands. “What’s Sterling’s favorite flower? I’ll need all the advantage I can get when I go see her after work.”

“Ah, yes. Good plan. She likes the nontraditional stuff. More wildflower than hothouse orchid or prizewinning rose, you know? Go for peonies or gerbera daisies. Something like that.”

Viho nodded, impressed with his father’s insight and knowledge of plants. “I’d better get back to it if I’m going to finish up at a reasonable time to go see her. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Jake smiled. “And, son?”

“Yeah?”

“Good luck.” He lifted his hand to wave goodbye.

Viho would have matched him, the gesture natural to him as well, but just then a scream from the main house split the brisk air. “Help! Someone! Viho!”

Sterling.

He dropped his axe, his gloves flying off his hands as he pumped his arms and lengthened his stride. Anything to reach her faster.

Chapter Ten

The morning after she’d confronted Viho in the barn, Sterling checked her messages, even though she knew he didn’t own a phone. She ignored the concerned texts from her cousins along with the ones from her parents. There was only one person she really felt like talking to, and he wasn’t interested. After last night, she wasn’t sure she blamed him.

He’d only been doing what he thought was right.

And she’d pushed him away.

Shunned him without explaining that it wasn’t the idea of being married to him that upset her. It was the reason that he wanted to take the plunge that set her off. More than anything, she was afraid that she’d never know if he really cared for her or if his feelings were a product of some paternal genetic coding enhanced by his history.

She debated spending the morning working on some of her projects for the shop. Her kitchen table had an assortment of wire, stones and clasps scattered across it. Or she could go into town and fill the cases they’d put into place thirty-six hours ago. When her life had been mostly normal.

Was that right?

Yesterday had been a lost cause, and the day before it seemed like ten years ago instead.

Sterling shrugged to herself. No sense in moping around getting nothing done. She had a wicked craving for brownies. Probably more stress-related than pregnancy driven, but hey, why not use the built-in excuse while she had it?

Plus she figured dessert would make a decent peace offering.

Viho’s appetite, especially his sweet tooth, was pretty legendary among the ranch hands. Sterling had overheard Clayton and Wyatt teasing him a few times when she’d still been pretending not to notice Viho not noticing her.

Ugh.

Why had they wasted weeks on foolish games?

Deciding she wasn’t about to repeat her mistakes, she got to work collecting ingredients for her treats. And when they were baking, she put on a dress that would probably leave her feeling the cool fall breezes but made her look pretty dang cute, if she did say so herself.

She even took extra time with her hair and makeup, not wanting to appear frazzled or upset to anyone around the ranch who might have heard the news by now. Of course, that would be
everyone
. Most especially, she didn’t want Viho to see her and think she was reeling when she actually had her eye on the future and the positive relationship they could build, regardless of what they might label it.

It might or might not be a romantic connection, but either way they were going to have to work together, not against each other, for the rest of their lives. Wouldn’t it be more enjoyable to be allies rather than enemies?

And who was she fooling?

She’d wanted more of him since the taste she’d had that day on the side of the road. The time they’d spent together in her shop had only proved she was right. There was something between them, and it could be more if they nurtured it.

Sterling packed the baked goods into a travel container, then checked her reflection in the stainless steel refrigerator door.

Viho was about to find out that no man resisted double fudge brownies baked by a Compass Girl using Vivi’s secret recipe.

When Sterling rolled into the gravel lot between the main house and the barn, she saw Viho and Jake sitting on a matching set of tree stumps, clearly having a private conversation. The urge to run over there and hug them both was pretty overwhelming. So she took her goodies and slipped into the main house to check in with Vivi in the meantime.

She wondered if her grandmother would remember the total shitstorm that had erupted in the kitchen yesterday. Hopefully not.

“Vivi?” she called as she stepped through the porch door, surprised to find the lights off and no one in the living room. Usually before lunch, there would be coffee out on the counter and her grandmother would be sitting downstairs, sewing, doing crossword puzzles, reading the paper or chatting with friends and neighbors who stopped by to spend time with her while keeping a discreet eye out for the pillar of their community.

“Vivi?” Sterling called again as she poked around the screened room where her father had once had a temporary office, if ranch legends were to be believed. Still nothing.

And she hadn’t been in the gardens as best Sterling could tell. Trying not to get distracted by ogling Viho, she peeked out and confirmed that the area was clear.

No Vivi.

She made a racket as she climbed the stairs to the private area of the house. Vivi couldn’t hear as well as she used to, and Sterling didn’t want to risk startling her. Over and over, she pled for her grandmother to answer. Still no response.

By the time she’d worked her way to Vivi’s bedroom door, which was cracked open, she was terrified to go inside. What if…

There were too many terrifying scenarios to consider. Her heart pounded in her chest. A cramp in her gut had her slinging an arm around her middle as she tried one more time. “Vivi?”

A whimper mixed with a groan came in response.

Faint, but there.

Sterling flung the door open and rushed inside. The bed had been made and there was no one lying there. Sweeping the room, she ruled out all the spaces but the bathroom.

Warm incandescent light spilled from beneath the solid wood door. She knocked softly, but when no answer came, she tried the knob.

Locked.

“Seriously, Vivi. Who do you think is going to walk in on you?” Sterling spoke mostly to herself to calm her nerves. It didn’t work.

She spun to the dresser and raided the mother of pearl box on top for a bobby pin. With her tool in hand, she popped the lock and held her breath. The door swung open about halfway, then stopped as it banged into something on the floor.

“Vivi!”

Sterling was even more surprised when the door flew back at her, hitting her in the side. “Oomph.”

“Get the hell out!” Vivi grumbled. “I can do it myself.”

“Hey, it’s me. Sterling.” She spoke as softly and steadily as she could manage given the trembling, which wracked her entire body. Never had her grandmother spoken to her in that tone. The doctor had warned them that aggression and anger were common in the later stages of dementia, but this was something horrifying and new for Vivi.

“I said
get out
.” A bare foot kicked at the door, connecting and shoving it at Sterling again.

“Okay, I’ll go, but is something wrong?” She tried to think as fast as she could. How would she get the woman out of there without making the situation worse? Sure, any number of the cowboys around could bust down the door, but how would they preserve Vivi’s dignity and avoid riling her.

“I don’t know.” Vivi’s thready reply broke Sterling’s heart. “I can’t remember. And I think I wet myself.”

“Hey, no problem.” Sterling opted to go for lighthearted and hoped the mood caught. “Who hasn’t peed their pants a time or two? Remember when you took me and the rest of the Compass Girls to the county fair one year? The line for the Ferris wheel was so long that by the time we got near the front I was dancing around, looking for a bathroom. Jade told me that if I made us lose our place she would never forgive me. And, yep, I wet myself too, but I had a really pretty view while I did it. Served her right that she was in the bucket below me when I let go.”

No laughter came from the other side of the door.

Shit.

“Cindi, you didn’t grow up in Compton Pass. I don’t know who the hell you’re thinking of, but it isn’t me.” Something crashed in the bathroom.

Sterling frantically searched for her phone but realized she’d left her purse with the brownies on the kitchen counter. Not even Vivi had a landline anymore—they’d phased it out years ago.
Shit. Shit. Shit.

She didn’t dare leave the woman alone to run for help. So she steeled her spine and wedged her foot under the door.

“Vivi, I’m coming in.” Stern, she didn’t give the other woman a choice. She forced the door open against a surprisingly strong resistance for an elderly lady. Afraid of hurting her or knocking her down where she could hit her head on any number of porcelain fixtures, Sterling opted for a slow, steady pressure, absorbing the kickback with her body.

Then suddenly, the force evaporated. The door winged open and she tumbled into the tiny room.

Vivi sat on the closed toilet, blinking up at her as if Sterling had been arguing with her doppelganger.

“Sterling? What’s wrong? Can’t a woman get some privacy around here?” Her grandmother laughed, then stood up, completely unaware of the wet spot expanding across her pants.

Only the threat of reigniting Vivi’s distress kept Sterling’s face from crumpling and the flood of tears searing her eyes at bay.

“Come on, Vivi.” Sterling put an arm around her waist and half-carried, half-steered her toward the bedroom, desperately trying to think of some way of conning her into putting on fresh clothes without highlighting her accident. “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m fine.” She smiled brightly, then glanced down, making Sterling afraid she would ask why she was wet. Instead, she said, “Why are you worried ’bout me, when
you’re
the one bleeding?”

Sterling figured hallucinating was another terrible trick of her grandmother’s dementia, along with rapidly vacillating moods, until she realized her thigh did feel warm and slick. In her terror, she hadn’t noticed.

She looked down and saw a rivulet of blood trailing down her leg and into the carpet. As she watched, more pooled at her feet. From the impact of the door? The strain of practically carrying Vivi to bed? Or the stress of the situation?

She had no idea. But she was in over her head.

Sterling couldn’t help it. She screamed, “Help! Someone!”

And then she remembered the two men she’d spotted talking in the garden a few minutes ago. “Viho!”

A whooshing sound drowned out the renewed rage-mumblings of her agitated grandmother. The room spun around her as if she were in the farmhouse from the Wizard of Oz instead of the one she’d practically grown up in. She put out a hand as she sank to the floor, but gravity didn’t work as she expected, pulling her sideways.

She crashed into the runner of an antique rocking chair before landing on the ground. And though she opened her mouth to scream again, all that came out was a whimper.

Pain radiated through her and all she could think was,
No. Please. Don’t be gone.

Viho slammed through the door and tore up the stairs of the main house, following feminine shrieks. “Wake up, wake up!”

When he crashed into the bedroom, with Jake right behind him, the scene inside took a moment to sink in. He’d imagined something wrong with Mrs. Compton to cause that primal fear in Sterling’s screams. Instead, it was her he saw crumpled on the floor while her distraught grandmother wailed.

The old woman yanked her own hair and tore the buttons off her shirt.

“Holy shit,” Jake gasped from behind Viho. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Jake!” Mrs. Compton yelled and moaned. The horrible sound twisted Viho’s guts. “I killed her. I killed her.”

“What? No!” Viho’s boots unglued from the floor as he skidded the rest of the way to Sterling’s side. He put his ear by her mouth and his hand on her chest, searching for signs of respiration and a heartbeat.

Thankfully, she had both.

“She’s alive.” Viho looked to Jake, trying to ignore the delusional woman’s hysteria. His own heart had stopped, he was pretty sure.

“I’m taking Vicky downstairs. I’ll send help.” Jake didn’t mess around. He put Mrs. Compton over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold, stilled her protests with one solid arm and removed her from the room, leaving them in relative calm.

Only then did Viho gather Sterling’s shoulders in the crook of his arm and tip her upward. Limp, her limbs flopped like a ragdoll’s. “Sweetheart, can you hear me?”

She groaned.

“Hey. It’s Viho. Looks like you took a spill.” He cooed to her, trying to reach into the darkness that surrounded her. “Can you open your eyes and say hello?”

Her lashes fluttered, but she squinted against the light.

“That’s good, Sterling. Real good.” He rubbed her back with small circles of his fingers over her spine.

“Vivi!” she cried.

“Don’t you worry. Jake’s got her. She’s fine. Worried about you, that’s all.” He might have lied, but he didn’t care.

Then she shocked him by sitting up quickly, so fast that they smacked their heads together with a clunk of skull on skull.

“Ow, shit. Sterling. Lie still.” He hugged her to him.

Until she moaned, “
Peanut
. I’m bleeding.”

Viho’s gaze winged to her legs. Her dress had hiked up when she toppled. Sure enough, blood coated her thighs. He should have spotted it sooner, but he’d been so focused on her, he hadn’t even thought…

“Okay. I’ve got you.” He scooped her into his arms and dashed from the room. “We’re going to the hospital, right now. As fast as I can get us there. I’m going to do everything I can for you. And Peanut.”

If she heard, she gave no indication, though tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

“Viho, not yet,” Jake growled from the living room. “I called Sienna and Sterling’s Aunt Lucy. They’re nurses. They’ll be here in a few.”

“Plan B, Jake. She’s bleeding.” Viho cut himself off before he gave too many details and scared Sterling out of her mind. Because to him, it looked like a hell of a lot of blood on her alabaster skin. He clomped down the stairs, careful not to risk tripping or dropping his precious cargo. “I’m taking her to the hospital. They can meet us there.”

“Keys. On the counter,” Sterling relayed the pertinent info, though it seemed to cost her most of her strength.

As they passed through the living room, Viho winced. Vicky Compton thrashed in Jake’s hold, scoring him with her nails, which left bright red trails on his cheek. “I told you, I don’t know! I don’t know what happened! What did I do? Did I kill her?”

“Don’t listen, Sterling.” Viho rummaged through her small purse in a hurry, though it was tough with one hand. When he located the keys to her Jeep, he tried to cover her ears by tucking her head to his chest. “She’s not herself. It’s not real. It’s not your Vivi. Don’t listen.”