Page 38 of Cowgirl Tough


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“Now,” he said.

She pushed. Cody pulled.

They both fell backward, her on top of him.

She was free.

Her ankle screamed, telling her exactly how much of her pain had not been the pressure of the boulder. The world began to spin around her. And then it went gray and started to fade out.

Chapter Twenty

The ridiculousness of him ending up lying here in the mud with Britt Roth spread out over him was not lost on Cody. There were, he knew, a whole lot of guys who would love to be in this position with her. With fewer clothes on, no doubt, but still.

Then he realized she’d gone limp and he was slammed back to the reality of the situation.

“Roth?”

She didn’t answer. He swore. He carefully maneuvered himself to where he was sitting up. She was still draped over him, but so slumped it had his pulse kicking up with fear. “Britt? Come on, it’s okay now. You’re clear, and we need to get you home.”

She groaned, and he never thought the sound of someone in pain would be so welcome.

“Trey, hold!” he called out, and the horse obediently stopped. The boulder was still in his makeshift net, and he could see how strong the pull was by the way the big bay was bracing himself against it.

He turned back to her. “Britt?” He was cradling her in his arms now, wishing more than anything those bright blue eyes would open and she’d say something snappy and pointed.

And then her eyes did open. She blinked a couple of times, then focused. “Cody.”

“You all right?” He grimaced. Of course she wasn’t. “Besides the obvious, I mean?”

“I…think so. I just…that last bit…really hurt.” She was almost panting, as if trying to catch her breath.

His jaw tightened. “Maybe we should have waited. I could have gone for help, and—”

She drew in a long, deep breath this time. “And left me trapped here, lunch for the next pack of coyotes who came along? No, thanks.”

She sounded much steadier now. His jaw muscles let up a little. This was the Britt he knew. Strong. Tough. Cowgirl tough. Or wowgirl.

“I feel sorry for any coyote stupid enough to take you on,” he said.

“Never stopped you.”

He started to grin at that one, but it died immediately, because she’d moved a little as she said it, and had winced fiercely. “Let’s just get you out of here. If we can make it down to the bottom of the slope we should get a cell signal, and we can call for help.”

“See to your horse,” she said, and he knew then she was back to herself. For the horse would ever and always come first with her.

He got up, carefully disentangling them, and went over to Trey. Who was patiently holding a lot of rock. He’d already decided he wasn’t going to bother trying to save the rope. Time was more important now, she needed medical attention. So he pulled out the knife his father had taught him to always carry and, glancing to be sure it was fully clear, cut the rope.

The boulder rolled, picking up speed as it headed down the slope. It bounced, again and again, then finally stopped a little more than halfway down, when it got caught in a hollow in a limestone shelf. Where it would likely stay until it or the shelf eroded away.

He led Trey over to where she was sitting up again, cradling her wrist—or maybe her phone—and looking down toward the boulder.

“Sorry about the rope.”

“It’s replaceable.”

Trey lowered his head to snuffle at her. “Thanks, boy,” she said, reaching up with her uninjured hand to pat his muzzle. For some reason that made Cody feel…strange, and his next words came out nearly brusque.

“You’ve got two choices. I carry you, or he does.”

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