Made For The Rancher

Amazed she was still alive, she turned to Jim. His head lay against the side window. She cried his name, but he didn’t respond. He’d been knocked out, but she didn’t see any blood except some cuts on his hands and arms. It took her a minute to think.

If I’m unconscious, remember to pull the latches to get out of your seat belt.

She followed his instructions and reached for the latch to extricate herself. Then she pulled his latch. He still wasn’t moving. She felt for a pulse. He was still alive, thank God.

She had to get them out of there, but when she tried to open her door, it wouldn’t budge. She tried again before realizing it had been dented on impact and would need force in order to pry it open.

The only thing to do was climb out the shattered windshield and jump down so she could pull him out of the plane on his side. First she had to push out the broken glass so she wouldn’t cut herself exiting the cockpit.

With her adrenaline gushing, she cleared it enough to get through, then climbed up on the seat. After gripping part of the dented frame, she swung herself through and took a leap. The ground came up hard, almost knocking the wind out of her. Nausea swept through her. When she could find the strength to stand, she hurried around to the pilot’s side of the plane.

She reached for the door handle and opened it. Jim was six feet and a dead weight in her arms. She tried to work him out of his seat belt. If he had internal injuries or a broken neck or bones, she had no way of knowing. All that mattered was to get them as far away from the plane as possible before something exploded.

Chapter Two

Wymon had been driving along one of the logging roads in the Sapphires for about ten minutes when he saw a single engine plane plunge into the trees directly ahead of him.

His heart almost failed him. He reached for his phone and called 911. After identifying himself, he gave the coordinates of the crash. “I’m headed to the site. Send an ambulance and a Bronco with a tank of water ASAP.”

Another minute and he reached a clearing where he saw a wrecked Cessna and a blonde woman working to pull the pilot from the cockpit. No fire had broken out yet—there was just a trail of ripped-up ground made by the plane when it came down. Amazed that part of it was still intact, he knew a crack pilot had been at the controls.

He jumped out of his truck and ran to help. “I’ll take over, but first I need to get you to safety. My name is Wymon Clayton.” He picked up the woman and carried her to the edge of the clearing.

“Thank you. He still has a pulse,” she yelled after him as he ran toward the plane.

Wymon pulled the pilot free of his harness and dragged him as fast as he could toward the woman. The poor guy was covered in cuts from the broken windshield. Oddly enough, he looked familiar to Wymon. Once he’d reached her, he began CPR.

“Come on, Rob. Wake up,” she cried.

Rob. This was Robert Farnsworth, a state representative who’d been vocal about the drainage cleanup from the mines. Wymon could understand that, but more recently he’d been against the grizzly reintroduction issue which went against what Wymon was fighting for.

He continued giving him CPR. In another minute the pilot came to.

“Oh thank God, you’re awake!” the woman said and smoothed the hair off his forehead.

“Jasmine?” he said faintly.

“Don’t move, Mr. Farnsworth. An ambulance is on its way.” He looked into the woman’s beautiful spring-green eyes. She’d survived an ordeal that should have knocked her out too, or worse. Cuts covered part of her arms, as well. “Make him lie still while I run for a blanket.”

Wymon raced to the truck. He pulled two blankets from the truck bed where he always kept his camping gear for emergencies and reached for a can of soda from the rear seat. When he returned, he put one blanket over the pilot to keep him warm, and then told the woman to sit down. He was surprised she hadn’t gone into shock already. Once she’d done as he asked, he wrapped the other blanket around her. In the process, his face brushed against her sweet-smelling hair.

“Drink this. You need the sugar.”

“Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice. “If you hadn’t come when you did...”

“Don’t think about that.”

He moved over to the pilot and hunkered down next to him. “The paramedics will be here any moment. Are you feeling severe pain anywhere besides your head?”

“No. A hawk... It flew into the propeller and shattered the windshield.”

“You deserve a medal for getting both of you out of this crash alive. There aren’t that many open pockets in this area.”

“Rob’s an incredible pilot,” his companion acknowledged. “He told me exactly what to do.” She took a few more sips of the drink.

He glanced at her, noting that she wasn’t wearing a ring. “You were brave to try to pull him away from the plane.” As he spoke, several ambulances from Stevensville and the Bronco he’d called for drove into view.

The driver recognized Wymon and called out to him. Quick as lightning, two of the men with him started draining fuel from the wings of the plane in the hope of preventing a fire. Another one got busy removing the battery.

To Wymon’s relief, the paramedics came running over to take care of the crash victims. “I’m all right,” the woman said. “It’s Rob who needs help.”

“He’s getting it,” Wymon told her. “But you need to be checked out, too. Let the paramedics do their job.”

They worked with both of them while getting names and addresses. Wymon discovered the woman’s name was Jasmine Telford. She lived in Philipsburg. The name Telford rang another bell. He knew why when one of the paramedics murmured to his partner that she was related to Commissioner Telford and did legal work for a friend of his.

Digesting that information, Wymon hurried over to the plane to take pictures inside and out with his cell phone. Soon the patients were placed on stretchers and ready to be transported to the hospital. He recovered his blankets and walked beside Jasmine to the ambulance. “I’ll follow you to the hospital and make sure you and Mr. Farnsworth get your luggage back.”

“Thank you again for everything you’ve done.”

“I’m only glad I happened to be driving up here today.” He’d been on his way to meeting with some rangers, but that was obviously not happening anymore.

The paramedics lifted Jasmine inside the ambulance and shut the door. Wymon walked over to the other ambulance. “I’ll see you at the hospital, Mr. Farnsworth. Anything I can do, just let me know,” he said, not expecting a reply.

Wymon got into his truck and followed the ambulances down the logging road that led back to Stevensville.

A sigh escaped him, and he thought that you never knew what was going to happen when you got up in the morning. He checked his watch. Eleven thirty and he was suddenly headed for the hospital. When he got there, he’d call the ranger station and explain why he’d never made it.

Once in town, he pulled in to the hospital’s public parking area and entered the emergency entrance behind the paramedics. While both patients were transferred to cubicles and attended to, Wymon held on to their luggage.

Two police officers who knew him came inside to ask him questions since he’d been the one to call 911. After they’d talked to the patients, they left, leaving Wymon to wait until the doctor had seen to both Rob and Jasmine. It was Dr. Turner, the husband of a close friend of his brother Eli’s wife. They’d met at Eli and Brianna’s wedding in March.

“Wymon? Good to see you. I understand you were the knight in shining armor. Ms. Telford’s words, not mine.”

He scoffed. “How is she doing?”

“Surprisingly well for surviving a plane crash. We’re cleaning up her cuts and will watch her for a while, but I expect she can be released in a few hours, barring any complications.”

Relieved to hear that, he asked about Mr. Farnsworth.

“Representative Farnsworth suffered a blow to the forehead, but no broken bones or internal damage. So far, so good. We’ll do a CAT scan and an MRI, then put him in a private room. He’ll have to stay overnight, maybe several nights to recover from his concussion.

“After what I found out in talking with her, they dodged several bullets today. She said he’d been a pilot in the military, and you pulled him out of the plane to give him CPR. Because you took care of them at the crash site, they’re both in amazing shape considering what happened.”

“I didn’t do much. Can I go in to see her? I’ve got their luggage. She’ll probably want a change of clothes.”

“Of course. We’ll talk later.”

Wymon picked up the suitcases and walked down to Jasmine’s cubicle. “Ms. Telford?”

“Yes? Come in.”

He removed his sunglasses and pulled the curtain aside. His wandering eyes took in the sight of her lying in the bed with her blonde head raised. She was a natural beauty with her classic features. Even in a hospital gown, or because of it, her shapely figure was evident beneath the sheet. Her cuts had been tended to. She looked to be in her midtwenties, but age could be deceiving.

“You don’t mind? I’ve brought in your cases.”

“You’re our savior, Mr. Clayton,” she said with a warm smile. “The doctor said he knew you and wasn’t at all surprised that the head of the Sapphire Ranch was the one to help us.”

“His wife and my new sister-in-law are close friends.” He set the cases by the wall before snagging a chair with his boot. “I understand Mr. Farnsworth will have to stay in the hospital for a few days, but you’ll be released soon. How can I help?”

“You’ve already saved our lives.”

“That’s nonsense.”

“No.” She shook her head. “If you hadn’t called 911 and come when you did, I wouldn’t have been able to pull Rob out of the cockpit by myself. The plane could have burst into flames. I don’t even want to think about what could have happened.”

Neither did he. “Tell me something. How did you get out of the plane? I took pictures, and your side was so dented the guys had to use a crowbar to pry it open.”

“I was desperate to get Rob out of the plane and crawled out the broken windshield.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t cut yourself more or break your leg jumping down. Because of your bravery, both of you will live to see another day.”

His admiration for her was as intense as his unwitting attraction. He hadn’t been this strongly drawn to a woman in years.

* * *

JASMINE COULDN’T HELP staring at the tall, fit, gorgeous cowboy dressed in a Western shirt sitting next to her. She’d seen him in the news recently, fighting to reintroduce grizzly bears to the area. Rob had been fighting against them, but this man had always been with a group of ranchers, and she’d never seen him up close before.

Her breath caught when he took off his cowboy hat, revealing wavy black hair. Below black eyebrows, his light gray eyes were fringed with thick black lashes. With his chiseled jaw, the kind that didn’t seem real, he had to be the most attractive man she’d ever seen in her life!

“Your hotshot pilot knew what to do to bring you home safely, Ms. Telford. He’s to be commended.”

She blinked. For a minute she was so blown away by him, she lost the thread of their conversation.

Rob wasn’t her hotshot pilot. But he was always in the news, and at this point she realized both men had come up against each other on more than one occasion. She could see why this man considered Rob a hotshot type. He flew his own plane and was an outspoken legislator on his way to the top.

After having turned down Rob’s marriage proposal, she wasn’t sure how things were going to be between them once he’d recovered.

“He definitely saved our lives by knowing where to put us down. I need to let his parents know what has happened.”

“I’m positive the police have already informed his family. The news will go out over the airwaves soon enough.”

One of the female technicians came in with some juice and checked Jasmine’s vital signs. “Are you hungry?”

“Not yet, but this tastes good.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Do you know how Mr. Farnsworth is doing?”

“They’re still running tests on him. I’ll tell the doctor to give you an update when he can.”

“Thank you.”

She noticed the other woman check out Wymon Clayton before she walked out. In truth, Jasmine had been doing the same thing and had observed that he didn’t wear any rings. She found herself wanting to know more about him.

“How did you happen to be in the mountains this morning?”

“I was on my way to meet up with some rangers on business, which reminds me I need to contact them and let them know why I didn’t make it. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

She wanted to tell him she didn’t expect him to come back. He’d done more than enough for them, but he’d slipped behind the curtain before she could stop him. Once he’d gone, the doctor came back in and checked on her again.

“You’re free to get up, use the bathroom, get dressed. Then you can go see Mr. Farnsworth if you like. If you’re still feeling well in another hour, I’ll release you.”

“That’s good. I’m anxious to move around now.”

When she came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, Wymon Clayton was waiting for her. It shouldn’t have excited her, but it did. His glance took in the jeans and knit top she’d pulled from her suitcase to wear, sending a slow burn through her body.

He stood there with his hat on. “The doctor told me you’re free to walk around. Why don’t you and I go to the cafeteria for a late lunch while we wait for Mr. Farnsworth to come back from his CAT scan?”

It was an innocent invitation offered by the man who’d come along in time to help save their lives, but she felt guilty when she said, “That sounds good. I think I’m getting hungry at last.”

All she took with her was her phone from the bedside table before leaving the ER with him. He seemed to know exactly where to go. She noticed that women young and old eyed him up as they made their way to the cafeteria at the other end of the building. Jasmine was five foot seven, but she felt small compared to Wymon. He had to be over six feet and was taller than Rob.

She felt wrong comparing him with Rob, but she supposed it was natural that she’d notice the differences between the two men.

Jasmine and Wymon each took a tray and went through the line picking out what they felt like eating. He paid for their food and led them to a table in the corner.

“I’ll pay you back when we get back to the room,” she said.

He helped her settle into her chair before sitting down opposite her. “I’m the one who asked you to eat with me.”

So he had. He had a quiet air of authority when he spoke, which had come across on TV. Again she got the sensation that she was doing something wrong. The first time it had happened, she didn’t know why, but this time she knew exactly what was disturbing her.

She felt an attraction to this man that was so much stronger than anything she’d ever felt before. Pure chemistry, hormones, whatever it was, it was powerful.

Keep it casual, Jasmine. Just be grateful for his help, that’s all. Remember the man you’ve been dating is getting a CAT scan right now—the man who wants to marry you and is still waiting for the right answer you can’t give him.

“Where were you headed when the hawk flew into you?”

She’d just swallowed another bite of her grilled ham-and-cheese sandwich. “Seattle.”

“That’s tough luck. At least insurance will pay for a new plane because it was an accident. Unfortunately, I’m sure that’s small comfort for him at the moment.”

“You’re right. He just bought this plane.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” Sorry she’d hurt Rob so terribly right before the accident happened. He had to be suffering for a myriad of reasons. Her greatest hope was that nothing truly serious had happened to him except the concussion. You could recover fully from a concussion.

“More coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

Wymon poured her some from the carafe. “I know he’s an influential representative.”

“A very dedicated one as I’m sure you’ve found out, being on the other side of the grizzly bear issue. How about you? Did you always want to be a rancher?”

He finished the rest of his coffee. “It’s my life.”

She felt the passion of that statement travel through her body, and then it dawned on her. “Toly Clayton. Your brother is the tie-roping state champion!”

Something flickered in the depths of his gray eyes. “That’s right. Toly’s my baby brother.”

“Philipsburg is on the pro rodeo circuit for July 2. I’m a big fan of his. Wouldn’t it be something if he wins the championship in December?”

“That’s his dream.”

“We’ll be rooting for him.”

“Who’s we?”

“My parents and I.”

His half smile turned her heart over. “He’s the famous one in our family.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Three brothers.”

“What are your other brothers’ names?”

“Roce and Eli.”

“Those are good English names.”

He nodded. “Wymon and Elias Clayton, two brothers who were immigrants from Lancashire, England, came to Montana in the mid-1800s. The names got handed down.”

“No girls in your family?”

Another smile broke the corner of his compelling mouth. “My brother Eli got married recently. Now my mother has a daughter-in-law and a granddaughter. That helps.”

So the other three brothers weren’t married. That included the gorgeous male seated across from her.

He finished off another roll. “What about you? Do you have siblings?”

“No. My parents had almost given up on having children when I came along. You’re lucky to have come from a big family.”

“It has its moments, but I wouldn’t trade any one of them.” She heard love in his voice before he said, “If you’re through eating, I’ll walk you back. I know you’re anxious to find out how Mr. Farnsworth is doing.”

Of course she was worried, but she’d also enjoyed talking to Wymon and suffered more guilt for admitting it to herself. “I hope they don’t find anything else wrong with him.”

“He seemed to be all right, and the concussion will heal. As for you, from where I’m sitting, no one would guess that a few hours ago you barely escaped a plane crash.”

“This whole day has been surreal.”

“I can only imagine. After your experience, you’re going to feel aches and pains and need rest, even if you’re fighting it now.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

They got up and went back to the ER. He entered the cubicle with her. “Why don’t you lie on top of the bed and relax? I’ll see what I can find out about Mr. Farnsworth.”

She watched him disappear. The man had a way of being in charge without doing anything overt. He was intrinsically kind. Solid. She knew she could trust him. He was a person she imagined other people leaned on. And you’re thinking about him way too much.

Suddenly exhausted, Jasmine got on the bed and lay down on her side. Poor Rob. This day had turned into a nightmare for him. The only kind of comfort he would want was to hear that she would marry him.

Tears trickled from her eyes because she couldn’t tell him something she didn’t feel. Restless, she turned on her other side.

If only she’d acted on her worry that he was getting way too serious. She should have found an excuse not to go away with him. The thought of hurting him at all was bad enough. But to hurt him right before their accident made everything so much worse. How was she going to get out of that rally she’d promised to attend with him?

Tears of guilt overtaking her, she buried her face in the pillow.

When Wymon returned to the cubicle, he could hear that Jasmine was crying. He stood outside the curtain until her sobs subsided. When he pulled it open, he could tell she’d fallen asleep. Good. It was what she needed. In fact, he was convinced she ought to be given a room for the night.

Before he drove back to the ranch, he asked to speak to Dr. Turner and waited in the lounge outside the doors of the ER until he showed up ten minutes later.

Wymon got to his feet. “I’m going home, but before leaving I wanted to suggest that Ms. Telford be given a room. She ate a good lunch, but went right back to her bed after. I have no idea if or when her parents are going to show up.”

“I already planned to keep her overnight after I went in to check on her and found her asleep,” Dr. Turner told him.

“Perfect. How is Mr. Farnsworth?”

“I haven’t talked to the neurologist since the CAT scan, but I trust I’ll hear from him soon. You’ve done everything you can do here, Wymon, and you need some downtime to relax, too. Leave your name and cell phone number with the receptionist in triage so we can reach you if needed.”

With a nod, he did as the doctor suggested before going out to his truck. Then he drove back to the ranch, passing the main ranch house and Eli’s. A little farther down the road was Luis and Solana’s home.

Luis had come to work for Wymon’s father years earlier. With his dad’s death just a year and a half ago, Wymon and his brothers relied on Luis, who was the best ranch foreman of anyone around. Solana, the housekeeper at the main ranch house where his mother lived, had become a permanent fixture in the Clayton household.

Wymon’s place was farthest up the road. After parking his truck next to the Audi at the side of his log cabin-style house, he headed for the kitchen. Once he’d pulled a cold beer from the fridge, he took the stairs two at a time to the loft.

When he’d moved into the two-bedroom house six years ago at the age of twenty-two, it was only one story. Since then he’d slowly had renovations done and it was now a two-story house with a bedroom, bath and loft on the second floor.

He loved sleeping upstairs in his modern bedroom where he could look out at the stars and the Sapphire Mountains while he lay in bed. The floor-to-ceiling windows made him feel as if he was sleeping outside.

The scenery drew him like a magnet. He took the lid off the bottle and drank half of it while he looked out at the vista that now included one crumpled blue-and-white Cessna. The sight of Jasmine Telford courageously trying to pull the pilot out of the cockpit would never leave him. Neither would the picture of her lying on the hospital bed, looking so beautiful. Those green eyes of hers had mesmerized him.

Over the last few hours he’d had time to put the pieces together. The two crash victims had been on their way to Seattle, no doubt in love and eager to get away for a vacation. With both of them coming from political backgrounds, they were well matched and well heeled. Particularly Robert Farnsworth, whose father and grandfather had made millions in oil.

She’d make a gorgeous wife for the aggressive Montana Representative. Give the man another eight to ten years and Wymon figured he’d have aspirations for something bigger in the future.

Was she as ambitious? Did she look forward to a life with him? Possibly in Washington, DC? Wining and dining with other One Percenters for the rest of their lives?

Wymon wished he didn’t want to know the answer to that question. He had to think back to his bull-riding days in high school to remember what it was like to be this attracted to a woman on sight.

Sheila Rogers, a popular, attractive girl from his high school, had been the daughter of a local rancher. Wymon had fallen hard for her. They’d planned to get married after college. But she’d enrolled in a study-abroad program in Italy and met a guy there who was on location making a Hollywood movie.

When she returned home she had stars in her eyes. She wasn’t the same girl who’d sobbed in his arms before leaving for Europe and had promised to email him every day and send pictures.

Sheila had broken up with Wymon, telling him she couldn’t imagine living on a ranch with him for the rest of her life. He knew she hadn’t intended to be cruel about it, just honest, but it had hurt him badly. Her honesty had broken his heart, but it also taught him a lesson. Before he knew it, Sheila had married the guy she met in Italy and moved to California, excited to embrace a brand-new way of life.