Lover of My Dreams (2 page)

Sam strained with every ounce of strength he had to pull his best friend’s cousin up to the safety of the ledge and out of danger. His left arm was useless at this point, his shoulder separated in the tumble down the steep slope that he and Rachel had taken when the soft earth had given way under their feet as they had rounded the difficult corner of the mountain path.

“Rachel, I will
not
let you fall,” he promised calmly, trying to reassure them both as he strained to pull her up with his right arm.

Rachel held on to his wrist and forearm with both of her hands, knowing that their combined strength would determine her fate on this day. She could feel Sam’s muscles straining under her hands, his own grip on her wrist strong and unfailing. She looked up and saw the ice blue of his eyes that normally shone with mischief and humor now betraying the fear he was feeling even as he tried to conceal it.

“I trust you, Sam,” Rachel whispered so that only he heard. “I know you can pull me up.”

She nodded up at him in affirmation, and saw the flash of caring that transformed his face for just a split second. The moment of softness was quickly replaced with cold determination, and she found herself being lifted upward slowly but continuously. She helped as much as she could with her good leg once she was able to obtain footing on the unstable ruts of earth and grass that protruded from the side of the mountain.

She couldn’t help but scream out in pain as her left leg was dragged the remaining distance across the ledge as Sam and Roy pulled her to safety. She found herself crying at the relief of her deliverance from sure death. Her chest was heaving with the effort to catch her breath as she lay on her back and stared up at the beautiful Colorado sky. The calmness and beauty of the blue sky and cottony white clouds betrayed the truth of the situation. They had just cheated death.

As she lay on her back, looking up at the serenity of her surroundings, she breathed heavily, trying to control her emotions. Sam’s right hand still held her wrist and her shoulders rested against his face. She could feel his warm breath as he breathed raggedly against her neck, and she couldn’t help but revel in the feel of his closeness. Despite the pain she was in and the fear that nearly consumed her, she truly felt that his touch and nearness to her was the most beautiful thing she had ever experienced. There was a constriction in her chest at his closeness, and she wanted to lie against his broad, muscular chest forever.

Being this close to him and touching him made it difficult for her to breathe. She actually felt pain in her chest at the raw need she felt. Sam McCoy was the one man that she had loved forever. She wished that he felt the same way, but she knew it would never happen. He didn’t see her as anything but Roy’s cousin. She wasn’t even a blip on his radar in the grand scheme of things.

Date her? Want her? Yeah right. Never gonna happen.

She wiped at her eyes with her left hand and saw that it was shaking slightly. She knew it was because of her brush with death, but she also knew it was because of the man who held her so fiercely against his body. She wanted to rip his clothes off and make love to him. She wanted him to want her as much as she wanted him. She just plain wanted Sam McCoy to be hers.

Sam turned his face to look at her. Even upside down, he could see the relief and gratitude that was evident on her face. For a brief moment, he recognized something else, too, and he couldn’t help but smile at the obvious caring that he saw displayed there. He had to admit that it was pretty nice to feel warmth and happiness at the way Rachel looked at him with something very close to adoration. It was flattering and nice to have someone feel that sincere emotion about him. It would only be a matter of time before she would mature and grow out of her infatuation, but it was nice to be the recipient of it for now.

He pushed his thoughts aside and concentrated on righting them both and seeing to their safety. He had to get all three of them down the mountain to medical care.

Roy reached down and pulled Rachel up even higher to the safety of the rich earth that had served to anchor him. His strength would have surprised anyone but Rachel. She knew that his tall, lanky body hid the strength he was capable of. She knew that the daily routine of the many hours both he and Sam worked every day after school at her aunt’s ranch had made both of them muscled, strong, and disciplined. She would bet her life on Sam and her cousin. She just had.

“Roy, you’re bleeding,” she told him weakly, reaching up to touch his forehead gently.

“That’s the least of our worries, Rache,” he told her, setting her back gently and releasing her to rest against the cool dirt before crawling forward to check on his friend.

“Don’t touch my shoulder,” Sam told him sternly as Roy reached forward to pull him up.

“Broken?” Roy asked him, his hands freezing in place at Sam’s command.

“Don’t think so. Probably just separated.”

Sam’s voice was tight and clipped. His face was covered in dirt and sweat. It was obvious that he was in pain.

As carefully as he could, Roy wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist and hoisted him back toward the safety of the mountain. He was able to settle Sam beside Rachel without causing his friend too much additional pain.

“We’re a mess,” Roy stated matter-of-factly.

“No kidding.” Rachel spoke up, smirking at the understatement. “I think my leg is broken,” she said quietly.

Sam sat up quickly, regretting his sudden movement immediately. He grabbed his shoulder and leaned forward to hide the pain on his face from his friends. He felt Rachel’s hand on his back and wished he could enjoy her kindness more, but the pain in his shoulder was overshadowing the comfort he felt from her concern and her touch.

“Roy, I need you to help me,” Sam told his friend calmly.

“What do you want me to do?” Roy asked, kneeling before him.

Sam looked at him weakly. His friend’s jeans were covered with dirt, and his blue flannel shirt was ripped and bloodied. He had blood dripping down his forehead and along his temple, yet the concern that Roy had for him was obvious. Roy’s own injuries were forgotten as he looked down at him and Rachel. Sam smiled up at him and nodded in acknowledgment of the friendship and caring.

It was natural for each of them to have no concern for their own pain. It was the way it had always been for the three of them since they had been children. Sam looked at the two people beside him and counted his blessings that he had found such great friends. They were two of the five people who were the most important to him in his life.

“Roy, take my left hand and extend it out so that my arm is perpendicular to my body but a little higher than my shoulder. Then pull hard and quick. That should put the arm back in its socket.”

“Crap, Sam!” Roy stammered. “I can’t do that!”

Sam looked up at his friend’s face. “You have to, Roy. We have to carry Rachel down the mountain. I can’t help her if my arm is useless.”

Roy looked at Rachel for guidance. She could see the panic in his eyes. She recognized that he was scared, but she also saw the determination that flashed across his face before he nodded his agreement.

“Rachel, can you do your best to anchor me so Roy only has to try this once?” Sam asked her without looking at her.

Without a word, Rachel pushed her body closer to Sam’s, sitting slightly to his right so that her hip rested against his. She wrapped her arms around his chest and locked her hands together, leaning her head against his back, and pulling him tightly toward her body.

“Is this good?” she asked nervously.

Sam nodded, breathing in deeply, trying to concentrate on controlling his pain. “Don’t let go.”

Rachel mumbled something that he couldn’t quite hear or understand. He felt her hold on him tighten. He looked up at Roy.

“Now or never, buddy,” he said strongly.

Roy nodded and took a deep breath. He reached for Sam’s left wrist, held it the way Sam had instructed him to, and pulled the arm sharply and quickly with all his strength. Sam moaned in pain then slumped against Rachel, sliding onto her lap as blackness threatened to surround him.

He struggled to fight through the haze of instant pain and was relieved when it eased almost immediately. He opened his eyes slowly and found that he was still in Rachel’s arms. She was looking down at him and she was crying silently. He looked over at Roy and saw that his eyes were bright with unshed tears.

“Am I dead?” Sam whispered weakly.

Roy laughed and Rachel couldn’t help but smile. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand then reached down and placed her hand on Sam’s chest, rubbing it absentmindedly as she smiled down at him.

“I
am
dead. And I’ve gone to heaven,” Sam teased, reaching up to hold her hand.

Rachel’s breath caught in her throat. She squeezed Sam’s hand tightly, not wanting to let go as her arm rested across his body. She could feel the muscles of his chest below her arm and knew that only the thin layer of his shirt hid the sculptured strength beneath it. The tight cords of muscles of his forearm flexed under her touch as she gently stroked his arm. She wanted to run her hand across his body, gently squeezing the golden muscles and tweaking at the dark nipples that she longed to kiss and tug with her mouth. His body was a work of strength and she wanted to touch him, kiss him, lay beneath him, and feel him deep inside of her body. She knew his gentleness and kindness. She longed to spark and experience his passion.

“Okay, Romeo,” Roy said disgustedly, his voice pulling her from her erotic fantasies. “You’re just fine. Now get up and help me get us down this mountain. My mom is going to kill us all.”

Sam smiled as he looked up at Rachel, hesitating slightly when he saw the look of pure desire that crossed her face as she gazed down at him. In that split second his body reacted, tightening painfully, his cock hardening despite that dull ache in his shoulder. He had to mentally shake himself.

This was his best friend’s cousin. She had been their companion and partner in crime since they had been kids. The thoughts he was having about her were
not
acceptable. Despite the fact that she was nearly twenty years old and absolutely gorgeous, with sensual curves in all the right places, it was
not
okay to think about her in that way. He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath, willing his body back under control before he slowly sat up beside the object of his brief lack of control and desire.

“Kay has done it before, and I’m sure she’ll do it again,” he said, laughing. “Your mom has every right to be mad at us. My mom, too.” He knew that Kay Monroe would be furious that the three of them had hiked a trail that she had told them was off limits to them. He also knew that she would be more concerned that they were all right and would postpone any punishment until they were all safely mended. By then, the edge would be off her anger and the punishment would be easily avoided.

His own mother would be furious if she had not been so sick. Joanna McCoy was fighting an illness that she wasn’t going to beat. Sam’s heart broke just thinking about losing her.

“I’ll tell my mom if I think she’s up to hearing about our stupidity,” he said finally, smiling at Rachel and Roy when they both looked at him with understanding. “We can talk to Kay when we get back. I’m sure we’ll be able to calm her down.”

“Don’t think Mom will cave in to your smooth talk this time, Sam,” Roy warned his friend, almost reading his mind. “This time she’ll be pissed.”

Sam nodded, knowing Roy was right. “We’ll have to deal with that when it happens,” he told him calmly. “Tear off the material from the bottom of your flannel shirt and mine, and we’ll use it to stabilize Rachel’s leg.” He stood up slowly, accepting Roy’s outstretched hand to help steady himself.

As he stood before his friend, facing him eye to eye, he finally saw the gash on Roy’s head. “Get your water bottle so I can rinse this,” he told Roy with a firm voice.

Roy left him briefly to grab for his backpack, rooting through it quickly to pull out an unopened water bottle. Reaching into his back pocket, Sam pulled out his clean handkerchief with his right hand. Roy quickly twisted the cap off the bottle and handed it to Sam, allowing him to pour it carefully over the top of his head, pushing aside his hair gently as he examined the cut. He dabbed at the gash with the white cloth, wincing as Roy hissed in pain. The white of the handkerchief soon took on a crimson shade as it was saturated with Roy’s blood. Sam folded it in half then folded it in half again and pressed it to the wound. Roy stood quietly, knowing better than to protest. When
Dr. Sam
was working, there was no interrupting.

“You’re going to need a few stitches,” he told Roy seriously. “We’d better hurry and get you to the hospital before it’s too late to stitch you up.”

Sam reached forward slowly with his left hand, wincing slightly at the pain it caused. He took Roy’s hand in his to place it over the already bloodied white cloth.

“Press,” he said firmly.

Roy did as he was told, waiting while Sam slowly ripped another piece of material from the bottom of his flannel shirt. You could tell that the use of his just dislocated shoulder was causing him no small amount of pain. He stood patiently while Sam tied the frayed piece of cloth around his head, securing it with a knot directly over the wound. Roy’s face contorted with pain at the pressure on his wound, but he said nothing. He saw the way Sam watched him silently to gauge his pain level.