Two wolves stopped in their tracks only a few yards away from them, low growls coming from deep in their throats.
“Father, save us—” Ember whispered, and his own heart echoed her prayer with every beat.
“Hey!” Casey shouted. “Back off! Hey!”
The wolves took a tentative step back, and Casey whipped the gun from where it hung on his shoulder, pointed it at the closest wolf and pulled the trigger. With a thunderous bang, the animal dropped dead, and the other turned and sprinted into the forest.
There was still no time to waste—Casey put an arm around Ember’s waist and hauled her forward as they scrambled the last few yards to the truck. Casey pulled open the passenger-side door and shoved Ember inside first. She cried out in pain—again something he noticed and definitely cared about, but he still didn’t have time to soften his approach. Then he headed around to the driver’s side, keeping his eyes peeled for more movement in the trees.
He was out of shells—at least loaded shells—and he was vulnerable out there. The pack might just cut their losses, but wolves were smart, too. They grieved a loss to their pack, and they avenged it.
The driver’s-side door opened as Ember pushed it for him, and he jumped into the cab, slamming the door shut behind him. He was breathing hard, and he turned the key, the engine rumbling to life.
“You okay?” He turned toward Ember and she looked as white as paper, her lips trembling. “You aren’t... Ember, you’re hurt—”
“My ankle—it twisted when I fell in the water, and—” She squeezed her eyes shut. Casey had no idea how bad the injury was, but by the look of her, she needed some medical attention—the sooner the better.
“I’m going to drive us a few miles away from here, and then I’m going to take a look at that ankle,” he said. “I’m going to need to get out of the truck to help you, and I’d rather not do that with wolves at my back.”
She nodded mutely, her eyes still shut, and Casey slammed the truck into Reverse, turned around and then started down the road once more the way he’d come, leaving the red truck behind them. He’d send a couple of guys out tomorrow to pick up the truck—with a warning to stay clear of the trees.
The truck bounced over a bump, and he grimaced in sympathy as Ember gasped in pain.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m being careful—I promise.”
“I’m okay—” she breathed.
“Liar,” he retorted. “But you will be. Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”
As he drove toward the welcoming expanse of open field, he was filled with relief. Wolves would have a hard time ambushing him from pasture, and the more minutes that ticked by, and the closer they got to the settlement, the safer they were. Once the trees were about five minutes behind them, Casey let up on the gas and pulled to the side of the road.
He had a first-aid kit in the truck—every ranch vehicle had one—and he grabbed it from behind the seat before he jumped out and headed around to her. He opened her door and put a hand on her knee.
“Okay, I’m going to lift your foot out of the truck, and we’re going to get your shoe off,” he said.
Ember nodded, and Casey put a supportive hand under her shoe as he brought her leg out so he could see how bad it was. Her jeans were wet through, as was her shoe. She was already shivering with cold. He pulled a knife out of his belt, slicing through the laces of her shoe in one flick of his wrist, and he pulled the shoe off, then rolled off her sodden sock.
“I’m going to owe you for those laces,” he said wryly, his fingers moving expertly over the puffy, swollen flesh of her ankle. Her skin was damp and chilled, but there was heat pulsing from deeper in her flesh. “Move your toes.”
She winced but she managed to move her big toe, so it wasn’t a break. But it was a very bad sprain, and the pain must be excruciating. He dropped the first-aid kit in her lap so that he could keep a hand under that foot. If he let go, she’d probably pass out from the pain.
“I need you to get out the tensor bandage,” he said. “I don’t think it’s broken, but it’ll hurt a whole lot less once I get this wrapped.”
Ember fumbled with the zipper, but opened the kit and handed him the bandage roll. He worked quickly, starting at her pale toes and moving up her already bruising foot. He wrapped tightly, keeping her ankle supported until he’d finished the job. Then he gently put her foot down on the floor of the truck.
“There,” he said.
“Thank you.” Her voice was soft, and when he looked up at her, he found blue eyes fixed on him with a look of overwhelming gratitude. “You saved my life, Casey.”
“Oh, hey...” He wasn’t sure how to answer her, so he shrugged. “And my own, right?”
She smiled, then shook her head. “Play it off all you want, Casey Courtright, but you just faced down a pack of wolves for me today.”
And I’d do it again in a heartbeat, he realized ruefully.
“Next time you want to come out here, wait for me and let me give you the ride,” he said gruffly and slammed her door shut, heading around to the driver’s side once more. When he pulled himself back into the driver’s seat, he leaned over and grabbed her seat belt, pulled the belt out long and clicked it into place before he let go. The emergency was past, and the last thing he needed was another one.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re right—that was my fault. I was stupid and naive, and—”
“Hey, it’s over,” he said, clicking his own seat belt into place. He looked over
