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“Charlie?”
She startled at the familiar voice, turning with a smile as she saw Linc, the ranch manager, coming towards her. But she must have moved too fast. Her head spun. Dark spots danced in front of her vision. She heard her name shouted just as the ground rushed up to meet her.
Then nothing.
3
“What the hell is wrong with her? Is she sick?”
Clint’s bellow stirred her.
“Clint, shut up, you’re waking her,” Kent said.
“Don’t we want to wake her up? We shouldn’t let her sleep, right? What if she hit her head?”
“I don’t think she did,” someone else said. Who was that? How many people were here? “Think she just fainted. You’ve called Doc?”
She groaned at that. Doc? Someone called Doc? She didn’t need him. She felt fine. Well, she was nauseous and she wasn’t that keen on moving just yet, but she was certain she’d be fine soon. Doc would want to examine her. Which meant things getting stuck up her butt.
That sounded worse than it actually was. But Doc didn’t believe in taking temperatures the normal way. Nope, he had to use a rectal thermometer. He claimed it was more accurate. She wasn’t buying that baloney. She was certain he just liked sticking things up people’s butts.
Okay, that sounded bad too.
Only up Littles butts. He had a normal thermometer for when the men on the ranch were ill or injured.
Then there were the vitamin suppositories that he liked to prescribe for Littles. Yeah, there was a lot of butt stuff. And she hadn’t even gotten to the things Clint liked to do to her backside.
She could feel herself blushing at the thought.
“She’s flushed. She’s ill,” Clint said worriedly. A huge, cold hand rested on her forehead and she jumped, letting out a startled cry.
“Your hand is like an icicle,” she said, her throat scratchy.
Oh shit. She wasn’t actually ill, was she? Nope, she didn’t have time for this. She had stuff to do. She needed to call the caterer. She had to check with the florist. Her bridal shower was soon.
She reached up and lightly pushed Clint’s hand away. Then she opened her eyes, nearly gasping at the sight of three men staring down at her, concern filling their faces. She glanced quickly around, noting that she was lying on her bed, with a blanket over her.
“Umm, hi.”
She tried to sit but Clint reached out and grasped hold of her shoulder, keeping her flat on her back.
“Lie there, Charlotte. Don’t move.” Clint’s voice was so stern that she immediately nodded.
She reached up and rubbed her throbbing head.
“Charlie, do you remember what happened?” Linc asked. He was the other voice she’d heard. “Do you remember seeing me outside the barn?”
She frowned, thinking. Bits of memories came back to her. “Ahh, yes. What happened next?”
“You went all pale then you collapsed. I picked you up and brought you home.”
“What were you even doing out there?” Clint frowned as he sat on the bed, facing her. “It’s freezing outside. You shouldn’t be leaving the house. Where were you going?”
She cleared her throat. Hmm. This was going to take some explaining. And she wasn’t sure she wanted an audience for this chat.
“What is everyone doing in here? Why are you all crowding over my patient? Can she even breathe with all the looming?” a deep voice barked grouchily from the doorway.
Doc was here.
