Dream a Little Dream (9 page)

Lacy sprang over the driver's door in her trademark
Dukes of Hazard
style and grinned at Molly like a schoolgirl from behind the steering wheel.

“Come on, Molly, time's a wastin'.”

“Hop in there and stop worrying,” Norma Sue said, giving her a little nudge.

Molly sat on the edge of the door, lifted her legs over and plopped down onto the white leather of the passenger seat. Everyone, knowing the way Lacy drove, stepped away from the vehicle and waved.

“I don't know why I'm doing this,” she groaned as Lacy cranked the motor and revved the engine. She didn't comment, just stomped on the gas pedal and shot
them backward out of the parking space like a bottle rocket on the Fourth of July.

“Molly, I feel the need for speed, so sit back, buckle up and let your mind ease while you talk to the Lord about how you're feeling. Then we'll talk.”

They had only gone about a half a mile from town when Motorcycle Tammy pulled up beside them.

She had on black leather pants and a coat with fringe waving in the wind. The fringe she'd made dance for Bob. “What's she doing?” Molly gasped, watching in surprise as she saluted them then gunned the shiny purple bike and exploded past them at a speed Molly could only describe as insane.

“Do you think she's going to Bob's?” Lacy called over the wind and the roar of the disappearing motorcycle.

“If I were a betting woman I'd say yes. Does she not know her welcome is worn-out?”

“Doesn't look like she cares.” Lacy glanced over at her with an expression that asked what Molly wanted to do about it.

“This isn't right, Lacy. Just because I wrote an article doesn't give her the right to badger poor Bob like this.”

“No, it doesn't. None of us meant for this kind of harassment to happen when we started the ‘wives wanted' campaign.”

“Then that does it, Lacy! Follow that motorcycle.” Molly sat up in her seat, keeping the bike in her sights as it steadily pulled away from them in the distance. “I've had it, Lacy. I did this to Bob and I'm going to fix it. First thing in the morning I'll write a full-fledged apology to him in my column, and in a nice but firm way let every
one know that while Mule Hollow has many eligible bachelors, there is a certain protocol that needs to be followed. But first, we need to catch up with Speedy and tell her to back off. This has gone on long enough!”

Needing no further encouragement Lacy grinned at her. “Hold on to your shoestrings ‘cause here we go.”

When Lacy stomped on the gas, the power of the old Caddy knocked Molly back in the seat like a bug on a windshield. Lacy was laughing and, despite the speed with which the scenery was flying by, Molly couldn't help smiling.

And then she saw Motorcycle Tammy whip her bike onto the drive up to Bob's house and continue on over the cattle guard.

“What is she doing?” Molly gasped, all laughter gone.

“Looks like trouble to me. Do you see Sylvester anywhere?”

Molly scanned the pasture as Lacy eased off the gas. “Nope. Thank goodness. Come on, we have to go after her.”

“You got it, sister. This is more adventure than I've had since I went after the cattle rustlers!”

Molly almost bit her tongue as they careened over the irksome cattle guard. The memory of her last encounter on this side of the fence had her looking in both directions to make certain Sylvester didn't materialize out of thin air as he'd done before he attacked her. But there were no cows in view at all. And that was probably why Tammy thought she had a chance of getting to Bob. This was crazy! What had she created?

She lost sight of the motorcycle for a moment as it
disappeared over the ridge. Then, topping the hill, her heart stopped and she screamed at the sight before her.

From one direction Sylvester was charging straight at the motorcycle! And from the opposite direction, Bob, always the hero, was running full out to intercept him.

And this time he didn't have his whip.

Or his truck.

L
acy brought the Caddy to a jolting halt on top of the hill. “Molly, she's fixing to get Bob killed. And herself!”

Molly's heart was in her throat and she could only nod and keep on nodding, as she was forced to watch Bob charging toward the bull.

The foolish Tammy, realizing what was coming at her, at least had the good sense to attempt avoiding a head-on collision. Yanking her bike to the right, she sent gravel flying, but the back tire lost grip and spun out from under her. Now on its side, it was sliding with rider attached straight at Sylvester. Worse, Bob was closing in on certain destruction as the bike came to a halt with the rider beside it.

Seconds before Sylvester plowed into the prone figure, Bob sprang over the bike placing himself directly between the crazed bull and crazier woman.

Quick on his feet, Bob slapped Sylvester's nose and did a pivot away from the bike, effectively drawing the
bull's attention to himself. But there was nowhere for him to go! If they'd been in an arena, there would have been men to pick up the injured bull rider that Bob was trained to protect and there would have been a fence to climb over or a barrel to dive into once he'd risked his life to keep the bull from harming the bull rider. But he was in an open field. Alone.

“We have to do something,” Molly and Lacy practically cried at the same time. Both of them knew this was no rodeo and Bob was in a losing battle with a bull that, Molly understood only too well, had no compulsion to quit.

“We're going after him.” Lacy hit the gas and the horn at the same time. The Caddy jumped forward, ready to tango just as Sylvester lowered his massive head and went in for the kill.

Lacy and Molly were screaming at the top of their lungs praying that God would spare Bob and set the bull on them. But they were too far away to stop the inevitable and had to watch as the bull caught Bob full force. The only saving grace was Bob's quickness as he twisted, tagged the bull's forehead with his outstretched hand and used the stiff-armed action to propel himself to the side, spinning out of the way. It was a spectacular move, one Molly was sure he'd used as a diversionary tactic in the arena. But the massive bull merely twisted and continued after him, muscles rippling and bunching in powerful determination. Despite his effort, Bob took the next hit and Molly was forced to watch helplessly as he was trampled beneath the bull's hooves!

The Caddy was on the move, but still it seemed to
Molly they would never get there. And all the while Sylvester was pummeling Bob into the earth.

“I'm going to try and draw him to the car, away from Bob,” Lacy shouted, beating on the horn. Molly would have thrown herself out of the car and let the maniac trample her if it had meant getting him off Bob. But Lacy zipped past the bull.

“Please let him come after us. Please let him come after us,” Molly chanted, all too aware of how much he hated cars. “I think he's attracted to moving targets,” she called, relieved when Sylvester looked up and charged at the Caddy. Molly had already unsnapped her seat belt so she hopped to her knees facing the back of the car waving her arms. “He's coming, Lacy, and I can see Bob moving. He's on the ground, but if we can give him enough time, maybe he can get himself and Tammy to safety. I've seen bull riders on TV get up after attacks like that.” And she had. She didn't know how, but bull riders and bullfighters walked away from this kind of thing all the time. She could only pray this was one of those times.

“I'm going to follow the road around the house and see if we can get him over there. Maybe he'll pass out from exhaustion,” Lacy yelled, driving like a pro, guiding the big car over rutted ground back onto the gravel road.
“Molly, a puppy!”
she suddenly screamed.

Molly whirled around, her gaze following Lacy's finger pointing to a ball of fur scurrying under the fence that protected the house from the open pasture. “Sylvester will kill it,” Molly snapped. Her decision made, she glanced back at the bull that was only about twenty feet behind them. “Stop.”

Lacy—bless her soul—didn't give it a moment's hesitation before she slammed on the breaks. Molly sprang over the door before the car came to a jarring halt. Feeling like an Olympian and praying for that kind of speed, Molly raced the five feet to the puppy and scooped it up with one hand. When she turned around, Lacy was there with the car already moving and Molly fell over the door face-first into safety.

Her relief was short-lived as she scrambled to her knees in the back seat to see Sylvester with his head down about to ram the back end of the Caddy.

“Hang on,” Lacy yelled, and floored it.

In the next instant they were trucking down the gravel road that circled past the house, around behind the barn, and into wide-open spaces. Madder than ever, Sylvester was pounding along right behind them. His head was still down like the grill guard of a train. He raged after them, hooves thundering beneath him.

Molly glanced at the black-and-brown puppy on the floorboard of the car, feeling relief that at least she'd saved Bob's dog. But what about Bob?

“Hey Molly, there's a fence and an open gate. Hang on, we're going through.”

Looking over her shoulder, Molly saw the gate. She had never been so happy to see anything in all her life. “Let's get him through then we can swing back around and I'll lock him in and hope he's bored with us and doesn't feel like knocking the fence down.” She started waving her arms again, knowing she was closer to getting back to Bob and Tammy.

“Come on, you big brute,” she yelled when he
slowed. “Now is not the time to get bored with us. Just a little bit farther.” They made it past the gate, but he was only trotting now, looking from side to side like a majestic powerhouse bored with his morning jog. When he pranced on through the gate, Molly wanted to cry with relief. She'd been preparing to jump out of the car and use herself as bait to draw him through if she'd needed to.

Instead, she was so relieved to see him follow them, she was cheering and jumping in the seat. When Lacy hit a hole, she almost flew out.

“Oops, sorry,” Lacy called. “Molly, there are some more cows out there. I'll go in that direction to lead him away from the gate.”

To Molly's great relief, Sylvester saw the cows, too, and trotted away from pursuing the car. “Hallelujah! Praise the Lord,” she cried.

Seeing their opportunity, Lacy wasted no time. She wheeled the big car around and headed back to the gate, where Molly made short order of getting it pulled shut. Her hands were shaking as her thoughts riveted back to Bob and Tammy. She fumbled with the chain, finally secured it, then once again dove into the car.

All she could think about now were the two people lying in the pasture.

How bad were they hurt?

When the car rounded the curve, Molly could see Tammy standing up, looking at Bob.

Bob—who lay exactly where he'd been when Sylvester had mowed him down.

 

The hospital waiting room was packed and Molly was about to pull all her hair out, her nerves were so shattered. This day had put ten years on her, easy. When they'd rounded the corner and had seen that Tammy was up but Bob was still down, she and Lacy had split up. Lacy went for the house and the phone to call 911 and Molly had run to Bob. He had been attempting to get up, which at least gave her a small touch of hope. But he'd been struggling, and his back had been bleeding through the shredded fabric of his shirt.

Tammy had stripped off her helmet and, miraculously, probably due to all the leather she wore, she didn't seem hurt. But she was scared and kept repeating she hadn't meant to hurt him.

Molly had never felt so helpless in her life as she did when she sank into the grass beside Bob and eased him back down.

He'd taken one look at her and passed out.

But not before Molly had seen the look in his eyes.

The accusing look.

The look that said he knew this was all her fault.

Tammy must have thought he was dead, because she had run over and picked up her bike and hopped on it. She'd just gotten it started and made it to the cattle guard when Brady pulled his big truck into the driveway and blocked her escape.

After that everything had happened fast. The rural ambulance used the school that was twenty miles away as its wait station, and with Mule Hollow's lack of traffic, it took them just a little over fifteen minutes to
reach them. By that time Bob had awakened and was angry as a hornet. She'd been applying pressure to a nasty laceration on his shoulder with a towel Brady had given her. But Bob had demanded in no uncertain terms that she get away from him.

The demand out, he'd promptly passed out again and Brady had put her back to applying pressure to his wound while he stabilized Bob's neck.

She'd never prayed so much in her entire life. She was still praying.

Tammy hadn't sustained any injury and she'd wasted no time hopping back on her motorcycle and heading out of town. After the strident warning she'd received from Brady, Molly didn't think Bob would have to worry about ever seeing crazy Tammy again. He would probably be more relieved if he never saw Molly again. She deserved his scorn. She still couldn't believe she'd been directly responsible for nearly getting him killed. But it was true. And he knew it.

“How are you holding up?” Norma Sue asked, coming up beside her and handing her a cup of coffee.

Her lip trembling, Molly stared at the coffee and felt the heat of tears burn behind her eyes and the ache in her chest from all the pressure of fighting them off. She wouldn't cry anymore. Tears wouldn't do Bob any good. And she didn't want sympathy from anyone. She was to blame.

“When I became a reporter,” she managed to get out at last, her voice sounding weak even to her own ears, “I never thought about someone actually being harmed because of something I wrote. I…I don't like this. I'm
not doing well at all. What if Bob dies? Of all the irresponsible things…I feel dirty. I feel like I've been writing for one of those trash magazines.”

Norma Sue startled her by wrapping an arm around her waist and giving her a gentle hug. “Bob isn't going to die. He's pretty banged up, but he's a tough one. Don't you know that cowboys are made of stiff stuffing and rubber bones? It'd take more than a little trampling to put one under. Especially that one.”

“But you should have seen it, Norma. It was terrible. He could be dead right now.”

“But he's not, Molly,” Lacy said, coming down the hall from the room where Bob was being stitched up.

“That's right,” Norma continued. “He's okay. Like I was telling you, he's got a hairline fracture in his leg—which won't require anything but an orthopedic boot—and several busted ribs and a herd of bruises. But honey, his spine is fine and his internal organs aren't damaged. At least they don't think so. They're going to keep him overnight to observe him, since these things aren't that easily detected. But mostly it's his pride that's damaged. Knowing Bob, he thought he could outdance that bull. You know he was one of the best bullfighters in the industry when he quit. There's a lot of bull riders out there who owe him their lives.”

Molly took a steadying breath and nodded. “I read about him on the Internet a few weeks ago.”

“Then you know he's been through a lot worse than this.”

“Yes. But
I'm
the cause of this.”

Norma met her gaze. The older woman's plump face
suddenly lifted as she smiled the huge smile that spread almost as wide as her ears were apart. “Then, you should make amends. Ain't that right, Lacy? He is going to be pretty stove up.”

“Yep,” Lacy chirped, and clapped her hands together. “That would be the perfect thing. Poor Bob has no one around here to look after him. And with his ribs all smashed and his leg in that walking boot, it will be hard for him to get around. Not to mention someone will need to look after his puppy.”

Norma Sue was nodding agreement with every word that Lacy spewed out and Molly could hear the light bulb exploding in their heads. Shameless, just shameless, that's what they were, but they were right! And the thought of actually helping Bob after all the trouble she'd caused him this past week was overwhelming in the relief it gave her.

“I'll do it. I can cook for him and clean. And I will just pamper him so he has to forgive me. I'm already taking care of his cute little puppy.”

Lacy and Norma Sue were all grins.

She pulled to her full height, shoulders back, spine stiff…she was going to help him. Then she deflated. “But he told me to stay away from him. You heard him. He wasn't nice at all.”

The memory of the scene only a couple of hours ago had put a stake in her heart when she'd tried to see him in the emergency room. His harsh words had stopped her at the door. He'd told her she'd been nothing but trouble to him from the moment she'd entered Mule Hollow and
taken it upon herself to ramrod his life. Ramrod! Is that what she'd done? Would that be what she was doing now?

He might not want to see her, but she had to stay. Had to make certain he was okay.

“You aren't going to let a little bad temper stop you, are you?” Norma Sue asked.

“That's right,” Lacy added, moving to stand closer. “He got hit on the head pretty good. Probably knocked him bonkers, so he didn't know what he was saying. You know how mild mannered Bob is, how nice and considerate he is. Of course when sparks are flying, people tend not to be themselves.”

“Stop with the sparks.” Molly groaned. If there had ever been the slightest hint that Bob may have been attracted to her it was gone now. “I want to help him to make up for the bad things I caused to happen to him. And that's it.”

Norma Sue nodded so hard that her gray curls danced around on top of her head. “We understand. Don't we, Lacy?”