Back at Haggerty, when she’d revealed her love of the land, he felt like he’d finally found the right woman. He’d caved in to his desires. For one idyllic moment, he’d dismissed the stark facts of his reality—his shortcomings—and he’d let down his guard. He wouldn’t let it happen again. He remembered vividly how much it hurt when the dream faded.
Down deep, he knew he was the main reason his marriage had failed. His difficulty with reading left him wanting to stick close to home. His ex-wife, Susan, had been a dreamer. She’d wanted to see the world, but when he’d refused, their troubles had begun in earnest. She hadn’t understood him and how inadequate he felt when he was outside of his element.
He refused to let that happen again. If he should ever marry again, it would be different. It’d be with a woman content with life on the Brazen H—someone who would accept him the way he was. That definitely left the up-and-coming president of HSG off of the list.
Cord lifted his boot from the accelerator, waiting for Lexi to catch up. His gaze remained glued to the mirror. The seconds ticked away, but still nothing. A bad feeling churned in his gut. He imagined her with a flat tire out there in the barren land. What were the chances she knew how to switch out a tire? He had no choice but to head back.
He stomped the gas pedal and spun the steering wheel hard to the left. The more ground he covered with no sign of her, the more his sense of urgency increased. Something was wrong. He got these intuitions only when it came to the weather or the livestock—never with another human. However, none of it changed the fact he knew in his gut Lexi was in trouble.
His truck skidded to a stop next to her SUV. He jumped out and ran over to her vehicle. Empty. Had she gone back to the ghost town? For what?
A shrill scream sliced through the air, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.
Lexi!
His heart slammed into his ribs. He set out at a dead run.
Please don’t let me find her crumpled form at the bottom of a mine shaft.
The horrific thought sent his legs pumping harder, faster. His lungs burned, but he kept moving. He had to get to her. She had to be all right. Please God, let her be safe.
He stopped on what had once been Main Street. One deep breath after the other, he sucked in oxygen. His eyes continually scanned for any sign of her.
“Lexi! Where are you?”
Blood pulsed in his temples. If she had fallen into a mine shaft, the chances of hearing her weren’t good. She’d be deep underground. He refused to accept the possibility.
He paused, thinking he’d heard something. “Lexi, I can’t hear you.”
“Cord,” a thready voice reached out to him. “Cord, over here.”
He made his way up the street, scanning to the left and then the right. At last, he spotted her sitting on the ground in the opening of the church. Thank God. As he drew nearer, her red, blotchy complexion became apparent.
“What’s wrong?” He crouched down beside her. His hand cupped her warm cheek, while his thumb stroked her smooth skin. “Why are you sitting here in the dirt?”
“A scorpion stung me.”
She trembled like a leaf in a windstorm. He pulled her to him. His own heart pounded from the scare she’d given him.
“Calm down. You’re okay now,” he murmured, trying to keep her from having a panic attack. “Show me where.”
She held out her jittery hand. No doctor’s diagnosis was necessary to tell him that the swollen red patch was a sign of a reaction to the venom.
“What did it look like?”
“It was ugly. And it was tan.”
Her description didn’t tell him much. He’d like to see the culprit for himself. “Where were you when it stung you?”
“Back there.” She pointed over her shoulder. “I was leaning back, and it crawled on my hand.”
He walked over and scanned the designated area. He knew from growing up here that there was more than one species—one more venomous than the others. A thorough scan of the area turned up nothing. The little devil must have scampered off into a crevice.
He returned and helped her stand. “We need to get you to a doctor.”
“Should I be worried?”
He smiled, hoping if he portrayed a calm composure she’d do the same. “Trust me, you’ll be fine.”