Page 22 of Cherry Tree Ranch

That was a crummy thing for me to say. This guy literally saved my life.

“Really, it was nothing,” he goes on. “And you should consider yourself lucky. When it was me in the hospital, my entire family was there. Well, except my grandma. She was at the chapel praying. She prays all the time.”

“It sounds nice to have all those people care about you.” I fiddle with my IV catheter. “Is your grandma Catholic?”

“Yes, and I think praying is the only way she knows how to cope because Catholicism was literally beaten into her ancestors,” he says. “I won’t get into it all, but her people, the Cochiti, were invaded by Spanish conquistadors and missionaries.”

I sigh and shake my head. I want to ask him more, but I don’t want to pry.

“So … is your sister OK with horses?” he asks. “I asked her to put them in Blue’s paddock.”

“Yeah, she can handle that, but Blue probably walked himself back anyway.”

“I’m sure Luna followed. I didn’t even tie her up. Just told your sister what was going on and jumped in the car. I’m sorry to say, I forgot to buckle you up.” He smiles. “Why does your mom need so much sleep?”

“She has advanced lupus. Sometimes she sleeps all day, or for days.”

“Damn.” He sits back in the chair. “That’s gotta be tough. Let me know if you all ever need anything.”

I smile, surprised. “Thanks.”

Cash rubs the back of his neck and shrugs. “I’m close to town. It would be nothing for me to grab anything you might need.” He runs his hand down the controller cord, the one that makes the bed tilt forward and back. “Emery said she’d call your dad and have him meet us here.”

“How long have we been here?” I study the mountain outside my window. From the ranch, I can tell what time of day it is by the way the sunlight strikes it. At this angle, the pine trees and rocky facade don’t cast the same shadows. We’re much closer.

“About two hours. They were going to intubate you, but tried oxygen and gave you Valium first. Your lips turned blue, and you were totally out of it. Do you remember any of that?”

I shake my head. “The Valium was for the seizures?”

“Yeah. You woozy from it?”

I nod.

Cash smirks and we’re quiet for a long time. I close my eyes again. My eyelids feel like lead weights. Another wave of relaxation floods my veins like warm bath water. I’m suddenly taken over with sleep.

I trip through a fractured dream – handwritten letters, the smell of horses, the roar of a rodeo, a warm hand holding mine…

“Dahlia,” Cash whispers, waking me with a start.

A young female nurse steps into the room. She can’t be too much older than us. Probably just out of nursing school. Her light-pink scrubs are too big, and her hair is pulled tightly into a ponytail.

“You’re up,” she says, her voice perky. “I need to check your vitals.” She rolls the computer stand closer to the bed and pulls her stethoscope off her neck. “Cash, can you give us a minute?”

“Of course,” he says, giving me a half smile and leaving the room.

“I’m Mona.”

She lifts my arm off the bed and wraps a blood-pressure cuff round my bicep. After she listens to my breathing and pulse, she checks my eyes. Then she takes the ice pack off my stung hand. I’d nearly forgotten it was there. The numbness makes it feel like I’m missing a limb.

After asking how I feel and if I need to use the restroom, she says, “Your boyfriend saved your life.”

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend.” He’s someone else’s, I want to say.

“Well, he sure is fond of you.” She adjusts the pillows under my feet. “He did everything right.”

She tells me how he carried me into the ER and gave them a detailed description of my symptoms. He didn’t want to leave my side, and because they were short-staffed he was allowed to keep an eye on me.

As Mona fills my cup from the pitcher, Dad barges into the room.