Free An Accidental Hero by Loree Lough Page A

right—the sooner he provided that nurse with whatever facts might help in treating Cammi, the sooner he’d be with her, making sure no one overlooked a single detail.
    Lord, he prayed as he ran to the waiting room, watch over her.
     
    Cammi hadn’t so much as moaned through the tests and procedures. Watching the way she endured it all reminded him of the wild filly Billy had brought home from auction a decade or so ago—uncomplaining, no matter what paces they put her through. It made him chuckle to himself, realizing that twice,now, he’d compared Cammi to a horse. Ridiculous for a lot of reasons, starting with how petite she was.
    He sat beside her as he had in the E.R., as he had while they prepped her for surgery, as he had in post-op…right arm resting on her hospital bed, fingers linked with hers. Now and then, when she shifted, the dim overhead night-light glinted from her wedding band. It was a cold, hard reminder of her connection to another life, another love. He knew, even as jealousy surged inside him, that he had no reason—no right—to feel this way. You barely know the woman, he reminded himself.
    But that wasn’t true. For a reason he couldn’t explain, Reid felt as if he’d known Cammi all his life, as if some higher power had deliberately caused their paths to cross.
    Better, smarter, safer, he decided, to focus on the small stuff, like the fact that she rested more peacefully when he wrapped his hand around hers.
    Reid ignored the ache in his shoulder, already weakened by the punishing fall he’d taken from Ruthless, that monstrous-mean Brahman. He concentrated on how he’d rolled from the bull’s sharp hooves just in time to keep from being trampled, instead of remembering that Ruthless had ended his rodeo career. The discomfort of sitting in this position was secondary to what Cammi needed. Besides, she’d survived so much in these past few months that it made Reid feel good, being the one to provide this small solace for her now.
    Almost as though she’d read his mind, Cammi turned toward him, her face less wan now, her eyesa bit brighter. “You don’t have to stay, Reid. I’m fine. Honest.”
    He shook his head, gave her hand a slight squeeze. No way he’d leave. For one thing, she would need someone with her when the surgeon came in to tell her about the baby. “Until your dad or one of your sisters takes my place, I’m stayin’ put.” With his free hand, he tucked a dark curl behind her ear. “Who do you want me to call first?”
    She gasped quietly and covered her mouth with the fingertips of one hand.
    “What? Are you in pain? Want me to get a doctor in here?”
    “No—at least, not the physical kind.”
    He didn’t understand, and said so.
    “Your clothes. Look what I’ve done to your clothes! I’ve ruined them.”
    Only then did he remember the deep maroon stains covering his entire midsection. “Work duds,” he said, sloughing it off. “Don’t give it another thought.” He didn’t like the tiny worry furrow that had formed on her brow. In an attempt to erase it, he said, “So, who can I call for you?”
    Cammi stared at the ceiling and bit her lower lip. “My dad,” she said after a while, “I suppose.”
    She reminded him of someone, but for the life of him, Reid couldn’t think who. He was far more interested in why she sounded so apprehensive at the mention of her father. He tried again to change the subject, flipping open his cell phone and doing his best to imitate a nasal-voiced operator. “May I have your number please….”
    Grinning, Cammi recited it while Reid dialed.“Don’t give him too many details,” she said. Almost as an afterthought, she added, “No point making him worry.”
    Nodding, Reid counted the rings.
    “Lamont London,” answered a deep, gravelly voice.
    London? Now he knew why Cammi looked so familiar: She was the spitting image of Rose London—the woman he’d hit with his pickup…the woman who’d died that rainy