the plane go down and called 911. After he lifted Rob from the wreckage, he brought him over by me and gave him CPR. He was amazing. While I was sitting there in a daze, he brought me a cola and covered us with blankets. It wasn’t long after that that the paramedics arrived.”
Mr. Farnsworth cleared his throat. “We’ll have to thank him for helping save your lives.”
Jasmine noticed Rob didn’t say anything. She decided to leave it to his parents to ask the doctor how to get in touch with Wymon Clayton. Just the thought of him made her heart race, followed by more guilt that she would still be thinking about him.
She didn’t want to be reminded of the way it felt when he’d placed the blanket around her shoulders at the crash site. When his chin had brushed her hair and she’d smelled the soap he used in the shower, she’d felt his presence in every atom of her body.
Fearing this conversation was bothering Rob, she didn’t dare volunteer any more information about the man who’d rescued them. Their son didn’t need to know that they’d eaten lunch together in the hospital cafeteria and had talked about their families. Already, she was thinking ahead to the rodeo next weekend in Philipsburg, wondering if he’d be there. Forbidden thoughts she shouldn’t be having continued to bombard her.
A nurse came in the room to check Rob’s vital signs. She told them visiting hours were over and that Jasmine needed to get back to her room to be checked. Jasmine was so relieved for the interruption, she could have cried. This was one time Rob couldn’t object.
She said good-night to his parents and squeezed Rob’s hand. “Get a good sleep. I’ll call you on the phone tomorrow after my parents drive me home.” He gave her a wounded stare before she left the room and hurried down the hall.
After getting ready for bed, Jasmine lay there with the TV on, not watching anything. Because she’d slept all afternoon, she was wide-awake now. At ten o’clock the news came on.
Their accident was the lead story. To her relief there were no pictures, just the statement that Representative Robert Farnsworth and a companion had survived a crash in the Sapphires, with Mr. Farnsworth suffering a concussion. More news to come later.
She imagined Rob’s campaign manager, Buzz Hendricks, had made certain to keep the details to a minimum. If news had leaked out that it was Wymon Clayton of all people who’d come to the rescue, that wouldn’t have been the kind of information Rob would care to have taking the spotlight away from him.
With her thoughts less than charitable, she turned off the TV, refusing to think any more about it tonight. Every time someone came in her room, she secretly hoped it might be the charismatic rancher just wanting to check up on her. But why would he do that when he knew she’d been on her way to Seattle with Rob? She was delusional to think he’d be interested in her.
What a pathetic fool she was to wish that he might want to see her again. Wymon was so attractive, he could have any woman he wanted and was probably living with one right now. During their conversation earlier, neither of them had talked about their personal lives. Those feelings of hers were all one-sided, and she needed to put them away.
Before she finally went to sleep, she came to a conclusion. In a few days when Rob was well, she would tell him emphatically that she couldn’t envision a life with him. They had different temperaments, and it was better that they stop seeing each other.
She couldn’t possibly go to the rally with him feeling the way she did. Even if she’d promised him several weeks ago, surely he couldn’t want her there now that she’d turned down his proposal.
Jasmine did like him for many reasons, but it wasn’t love. He deserved to find a woman who adored him heart and soul, who was compatible with him and wanted everything he had to offer.
In the morning, Dr. Turner did his rounds and released her, pronouncing her fit and ready to go home. Before he left the room she had a question to ask him.
“Would you by any chance know the directions to the Clayton ranch business office? Since I’m here in Stevensville, now would be the perfect time to drive there and thank Mr. Clayton in person for all he did for me and Rob yesterday.”
“That’s easy. Travel five miles out on Highway 93. The ranch is clearly marked on the right. You’ll find the main ranch house about a mile up the road.”
“Thank you so much.”
“You bet.”
“I have one more question. Do you know of a store here that carries Western gear and blankets, that sort of thing?”
“Sure. Frost’s Western Saddlery on Main Street.”
“Wonderful. Thanks again.”
“Best of luck to you and Representative Farnsworth.”
One of the orderlies wheeled her out of the hospital to the car where her parents were waiting. She thanked him and hugged her parents. Once she’d gotten in back and her dad had put her bag in the trunk, she leaned forward.
“If you don’t mind, I want to buy a gift for Mr. Clayton and take it to him before we drive home.”
Her mom turned around. “What did you have in mind?”
“A saddle blanket. He used some blankets from his truck to keep us from going into shock. I think it would be a nice reminder.”
“I think that’s a lovely idea.”
“Dr. Turner said I could find one at Frost’s Western Saddlery on Main Street.”
Her dad nodded, and he drove there, parking in front.
“I won’t be long,” she told her parents as she hurried into the store and approached the middle-aged man who asked if he could help her.
“I’m looking for a Nez Perce saddle blanket,” she said. She had one herself and loved it.
“I have several. Come over this way.” The man led her to another part of the store where he brought out four different samples. Her eye was drawn to a black-and-beige blanket with a distinctive indigenous design. For some reason she could see Mr. Clayton using it.
“I like this one.”
“That’s an excellent choice. It’s a heavy-duty wool blanket. Perfect for our Montana weather, especially in the winter.”
“How much is it?”
“Two hundred dollars.”
There wasn’t enough money in the world to pay Wymon back for what he’d done for her and Rob. “I’ll take it. Could you wrap it as a gift for a man?”
“Of course.”
She handed him her credit card and walked around the shop. When she saw a beautiful, long-sleeved ivory Western blouse with snap closures, she lifted it off the rack. Delighted to discover it was her size, she rushed over to the counter with it. “I’d like this, too, but it doesn’t need to be wrapped.”
Before long the salesman had bagged her purchases and handed her card back to her. “Come and visit us again,” he said.
“I will. Thank you.”
She hurried outside to her family. “The Clayton Ranch is only five miles from here. The doctor gave me directions. Mr. Clayton might not be in his office, but it doesn’t matter. I’d just like to drop this off to let him know how much I appreciate what he did for us.”
“We’d like to thank him ourselves,” her dad said. “Tell me the directions.”
It wasn’t long before they arrived at the ranch with its arch of antlers welcoming them to the property. They drove up the road. The setting was like something out of a storybook with the gorgeous mountains in the background. Around a curve sat a fabulous two-story ranch house that had to have been built before the turn of the last century.
They pulled up to the office parking area. “I’ll run