Having the Rancher's Baby (17 page)

“Yuck! That's gross!” He ran toward the house. “I want steak and a pool!”

Effie sighed.

Mabel leaned out the screen door. “Eff, hon, do you have that poor stranger's wallet?”

“I forgot it in the barn.”

“Could you please get it?” Mabel asked. “I want to call his wife. She's no doubt beside herself with worry.”

“Agreed.” To her son, Effie said, “Colt, get in the house, and don't forget to thank Grandma for cooking.”

“I don't want a stupid sandwich! I want steak!” Instead of joining his brother and sister inside as he'd been told, Colt darted around the back of the house.

“The boy needs a firm hand,” Mabel noted.

“I know.”
He needs his father.

“Let him sulk for a bit. Might do him good.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I see him through the bedroom window. He's sitting on the swing. Go ahead and grab the wallet, then get in here and eat before your soup gets cold.”

“Yes, ma'am.” In this heat, Effie doubted anything could get cold, but after swallowing the all-too-familiar knot at the back of her throat, she marched back to the barn.

At the moment, that poor stranger needed her help far more than her smart-mouthed son.

* * *

M
ARSH
DRIFTED
IN
and out of consciousness.

We tried intubating on the way, but he was too combative. He's bleeding from the site, so we had to restrain him to keep him from pulling tubes out.

Light. So much light. He squinted against the fluorescent track's glare. Where was his boy? His wife? The angel who'd found him?

How much Crotalidae was given?

He got the initial six, and we're hanging another six right now.

“Sir? Could you tell us what kind of snake bit you?”

Were they talking to him?

“Sir? Were you bitten by a rattlesnake?”

Marsh tried nodding but couldn't be sure if he'd even moved.

“Sir, judging by the severity of your symptoms, we need to double-check you weren't bitten by something more exotic. Are you sure it was a rattler?”

“Y-yes,” Marsh managed. After having to put down one of his grandfather's best horses when it broke its leg in a prairie dog hole, Marsh had been out on the range, filling as many of the damned things as he could, when the snake lunged without warning. It clamped onto the webby flesh between his thumb and forefinger for an eternity before Marsh shook him free. He'd done his best to stay calm, drunk as much water as he could, then climbed into his chestnut's saddle, strapping himself in before aiming the horse for home.

Sounds definitive to me. Look at the poor guy. He's twitching all over. See the fasciculations? How his muscles look like worms under his skin. It's bad. One of the worst snakebites I've seen in a while.

Copyright © 2016 by Laura Marie Altom

ISBN-13: 9781488006203

Having the Rancher's Baby

Copyright © 2016 by Cathy McDavid

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