Full Rigged (Lost Creek Rodeo #4) - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,13

her mind, losing herself, and losing all awareness of life as she had known it or would want to know it.

She needed help.

A lot of help.

She dragged in a long, slow, body-shuddering breath, then released it in a rush. Then she did so again. And again. And again.

Her head stopped swimming and only buzzed painfully as the blood returned to her face and limbs, ears thundering on each pulse. She rolled to her back, bending her knees and setting her feet flat on the floor.

Staring up at the ceiling, her brow growing damp with belated perspiration, Brynn felt tears trickle from the corners of her eyes down to her ears and into her hair.

“I need help,” she whispered to herself. With a swallow, she turned her head and grabbed her phone where it lay on the floor, swept there by her arm in the fury of her surge. She pulled up Mandi’s number, then put the phone to her ear.

“What’s wrong?” her friend asked in greeting, her voice on alert.

Brynn exhaled very slowly. “I need help, Mandi. Can you find me somewhere to go and get it? Not, like, padded walls, but . . . something away and stress-free?”

“Absolutely. I’ve got some options lined up. I’ll send them to you.” She paused, and Brynn could hear the hesitation. “Do I need to come get you?”

“No,” Brynn told her, tears choking her would-be strong voice. “But I’d really love it if you could just talk to me for a minute.”

“You got it, sweetie. Anything in particular?”

“Anything will do.”

A gleeful squealing in the background came through the phone, and Mandi sighed noisily. “Well, that sound was my daughter running into the kitchen stark naked and chasing the dog with her diaper on her head. And today, that is just par for the course. Aaron had the genius idea of leaving his pens out . . .”

“That’s it, that’s it! Nicely done, boys. Woo!”

Ford snorted softly and looked over at his partner. “It’s like we’ve never roped anything before, ain’t it?”

Eric Davis, calf roper extraordinaire and all-around pain in the rear, shook his head as he loosened the rope in his hand, the ranch hands undoing the rope around the steer. “Somebody needs to find him a hobby.”

“You could say that.” Ford thumbed his hat back a little, crossing his arms in front of him to stretch his back. “Lars, go find something to do.”

Lars Jackson, the best all-around rodeo man Ford had ever met, spread out his hands in a defensive gesture. “What? I’m just supporting you. Offering advice when you screw up. That sort of thing.”

“Well, we didn’t screw up,” Eric shot back. “Did we, West?”

“Do not drag me into this catfight,” Westin Farr called with a wave as he worked at a hinge on the corral nearest them. “I wasn’t watching, and if you guys can’t rope a steer without screwing up, there are bigger issues.”

It had been like this all day, just picking at each other bit by bit, like each of them were the little brother of the group. Reid hadn’t gotten back from D.C. yet, and Ryan actually had work to do on the ranch. Which, come to think of it, was probably what West was helping with at the moment. They hadn’t driven out to the rodeo grounds in Lost Creek today, and instead had stayed on Broken Hearts Ranch to practice a little. It wasn’t full arena size, but they weren’t going full arena speeds either. It was more a way to kill time than anything else, even though they’d asked Ryan what they could do to help today.

He’d been cranky when they’d asked, and said something about surveying before mumbling he’d get back to them.

No texts yet.

The guy might have run away, for all they knew. He loved the land, but there was no denying the amount of work that would be on his plate for the next year or so. A ton of improvements had already been made since he’d officially taken over, but ranch life never ended, and doing more work than the daily expectations could be a challenge.

Which was why it didn’t make sense to most of them, least of all Ford, why Ryan wasn’t taking advantage of the Six while they were here. Lars was staying in his house, Ford and Eric had just started sleeping in the cabin next to his, and West . . . Well, Westin slept under his truck, for whatever reason, so he didn’t really