Page 48 of Captured by the Billionaire Cowboy (The Secret Billionaires #7)
“I keep my windows open at night. Suddenly I heard a lot of commotion, snorting and squealing like an animal in pain, loud enough to wake me up.” Frank grimaced. “It wasn’t good. Jasmine was on her side, in obvious pain.”
Ciara ran faster, sprinting across the dewy grass. She reached the stables and quickly threaded her way to Jasmine’s stall. She cried out at her beautiful horse, on her side and reeling. She started forward, about to jump into the stall, when a firm hand grabbed her.
“It’s too dangerous to go in there.” Rowan held her tightly. “She could accidentally kick you.”
Despite his logic, she struggled in his grip. “She needs me!”
“She needs you to get her help.” His voice was authoritative and cool. He leaned down but did not release her. “I know you’re upset, but you need to stay calm.”
Ciara stiffened. He was right. Jasmine was thrashing wildly, kicking indiscriminately at imaginary threats. If she entered the stall with the panicked horse, she could be seriously injured or worse. Jasmine didn’t need comfort – she needed calm, cool and collected action.
She relaxed, and the iron band holding her loosened. “Frank, did you call Dr. Saunders?”
“Right away,” her uncail confirmed. “He said to head directly to the animal hospital, and he’ll meet us there. He didn’t want to lose time by coming here.”
Her breath caught. “Jasmine needs surgery?”
“He doesn’t know, but there’s a good chance. At the very least, he needs the equipment at the hospital to run tests.”
The horse squealed wildly. “It’s going to be okay. I promise,” Ciara cooed, her voice breaking with the doubt of keeping that promise. Rowan still held her, but his grip was light, as if he knew she would no longer run. “We have to get her loaded into the trailer. We need some men to help.”
“Already on it.” Frank held up his cell, showing a chain of text messages. “I contacted the workers right after I talked to the vet. They should be here soon.”
Ciara fisted her hands in utter helplessness.
She couldn’t comfort the horse, couldn’t get her checked out yet, couldn’t even get her to the hospital until the men arrived.
As always, Rowan sensed her emotions, as he gathered her in his arms. “They should be here in a few minutes. Why don’t you get dressed so you’re ready to go?
” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
“As soon as they get here, we’ll get her loaded. ”
She frowned deeply, turning back to the horse. Jasmine was thrashing, but her movements had slowed somewhat. There was nothing she could do, and she couldn’t venture into town in her nightgown. “Will you stay?”
“Of course.”
“Okay.” Ciara breathed tepid air into her lungs. “I’ll be right back,” she promised the horse, glad for one oath she could keep. She raced back to the house.
She moved in focused fervor, donning a black t-shirt and stonewashed jeans in sixty seconds flat. She grabbed her purse, cell phone and keys, threw some granola bars and water bottles in a bag and left the room two minutes later. As she ran to the stables, something wasn’t right.
It was far too quiet.
“What happened?” She burst into the building, amidst deafening silence. She traversed the labyrinth of stalls, stopped short as she reached Jasmine’s. The door to the stall was wide open.
The horse was sprawled on the ground.
“No!” Ciara ran to the horse, and no one stopped her this time. The others were gathered around the ailing equine, their gazes solemn. She touched the horse’s flank, feeling for any sign of life. Jasmine was warm, but she showed no reaction. “No,” she whispered.
“She’s alive,” Rowan touched her arm. “Likely, she just fainted from the pain. At least it’ll be easier to get her to the hospital.”
Moisture filled her eyes, yet she blinked back the tears. She couldn’t let emotion overcome her if she wanted to help Jasmine. Voices came from outside, and she exhaled. The men had arrived.
“Let’s get moving,” Rowan ordered.
With six men’s help, they loaded the horse onto the trailer on a bed of soft blankets, then revved the cars to life.
They drove as quickly as was safe, yet minutes seemed hours before the bright lights of the beige, two-story building came into view.
Dr. Saunders was waiting outside, flanked by several assistants.
As soon as the truck stopped, they raced to the trailer.
Jasmine was exactly as they’d left her, unconscious but breathing.
“Let’s get her inside,” the doctor quickly ordered.
The vet and his assistants whisked the horse to the back, leaving Ciara to do nothing but watch as they took her away.
She allowed Frank and Rowan to lead her to the small, sterile waiting room, where they sat on hard wood chairs, staring through picture windows to the blackness beyond.
Now Jasmine’s life was in the doctor’s – and fate’s – hands.
The wait was excruciating. Memories of her earlier fight with Rowan returned, yet neither she nor he mentioned it. Had they broken up? Could you even break up if you weren’t officially dating? She couldn’t deal with that now, not while Jasmine was fighting for her life.
The hours melted away with only small tidbits of information relayed by a harried assistant.
An obstruction, emergency surgery, fifty-fifty chance.
Usually the night was comforting, but now it seemed dark and mysterious, filled with shadows and uncertainty.
The waiting room held a small television, but it was mainly off-air, with only short bursts of conversation breaking the silence.
Finally, after an eternity, the vet entered the room.
Ciara shot up from the chair, wide awake despite the early hour. “How is she?”
Dr. Saunders frowned heavily, etching deep lines in his worn features. Ciara’s heart lurched. Was it the news she’d been dreading?
“She made it through surgery.”
She closed her eyes, relief chasing away the panic. She opened them and stiffened. By the vet’s concerned look, all was not well.
“She’s not out of danger.” His voice was low and somber.
“The obstruction was deep, which is why we hadn’t detected it before.
We were able to resolve the issue, but the damage is significant.
All we can do is wait and see how she does overnight.
I’ll run more tests in the morning, and that will give us a better idea of her chances. ”
She exhaled questions with no answers. It would be the longest wait of her life. “Thank you.”
The kind vet nodded. “My office has a pull-out sofa, so I’m going to remain near in case she needs me. If you want to go home, I can call you in the morning, or you can stay.”
How could she leave Jasmine, when she was so sick?
Yet now she had the horse rescue to manage, and guests who would be expecting her to lead the retreat.
She turned to Frank, who seemed to already know what she was thinking.
“Don’t worry about the ranch. All the activities and meals are already arranged, and Teara and Chelsea can handle matters while you’re away.
I’ll go back to ensure everything runs smoothly. ”
“And I’ll remain here with you,” Rowan touched her arm. The light hold conveyed warmth, caring, so much more. How could this man believe he would be a bad father? “For as long as it takes.”
She sniffed. Whenever she needed them, Frank and Rowan were there. “Thank you,” she whispered.
She said goodbye to Frank and returned to her perch on the chair.
The scent of coffee sweetened the room as Rowan made her a cup from the automatic coffeemaker.
Seconds and minutes passed as she stared into space, lost in a thousand what-ifs.
Finally, Rowan murmured, “Everything is going to be okay.”
She swirled her coffee cup until the creamy liquid formed a little whirlpool. Without taking a sip, she placed it on the table. “You don’t know that.”
“I know you saved Jasmine’s life once already.” He rubbed her back. “I know you took care of her. I know you got her medical attention and the best chance possible.”
“No.” She jumped up, away from him, away from his undeserved sympathy and understanding. “That’s not true!”
He stood, as well, edging closer. She didn’t deserve his comforting presence. She couldn’t even face him. “It’s my fault,” she whispered.
“Your fault?” His voice was incredulous. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s my fault Jasmine is in there. My fault she’s sick. My fault…” Her voice broke. “That she might not make it.”
He shook his head curtly. “Nothing is your fault. You’re the reason she’s alive in the first place.”
Ciara backed up, toward the hallway where Jasmine fought for her life. “None of that matters if she doesn’t make it. She’s unconscious, possibly dying. If I’d asked Dr. Saunders to run more tests, he might have found the obstruction sooner. None of this would have happened.”
“You can’t know that.” Rowan stalked after her.
“Dr. Saunders said the obstruction was deep, which is why the tests you did run didn’t show it.
The other procedures were invasive and carried their own risks, some with the potential to be fatal.
You discussed the options with the vet, and together you made the decision on what was best for Jasmine.
Even if you had done them all, he still may not have detected the problem. ”
“If I had allowed them, she wouldn’t be critically ill!” she cried. “She’d be at the ranch, happy and healthy and alive.”
“She is alive.” He pointed to the hallway. “You got her the treatment she needed.”
“But it may be too late. I should have known.” She dropped her head into her hands, cradling her aching scalp. “None of the tests carried as much risk as emergency surgery.” He didn’t deserve her anger, but she couldn’t help it. Because she couldn’t yell at the person who truly deserved the blame.
Her.