Let It Go by Mercy Celeste Read Free Book Online Page B

lay against him, aware that water was spraying over them both, equally aware that they had an audience. He started to shiver after the second bottle. “How’s the nausea?”
    “Gone. I think. Maybe,” Creed said through a raw throat. He couldn’t seem to open his eyes. Nor could he seem to move off his makeshift human lounge chair. “Don’t really know.”
    “His color is better.” The other voice that he didn’t recognize said from a distance. “He didn’t start frothing at the mouth, which is good.”
    “Skin temp dropped about fifty degrees a couple minutes ago. I think you can turn the water off now.” The water stopped but Eli didn’t move from behind him, for which Creed was grateful. He couldn’t stop shaking. Sitting on his own might not be all that easy.
    “Do I need to call an ambulance?” His name was Sawyer. Creed remembered now. Heavyset older man with a ball cap wearing a lightweight plaid shirt and chaps. Old dudes should not wear chaps.
    Cold fingers rested on his neck, a hand over his heart a moment later. Creed rested his own hand on the one on his chest. He could feel Eli’s heart beating against his back. “His pulse is slower now. I don’t know.”
    Creed could see people moving around, four people to be exact. He wasn’t sure if it was only two with a double image or actually four people. Two fingers popped up in front of his eyes. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
    “Two,” Creed said, holding the wrist connected to the fingers steady so he could focus.
    “Good. Blurry still?”
    “Yeah, a little. I guess.”
    “What’s your name? Birthday? Shoe size?” There was a chuckle after that.
    “Creed Running Wolf. March twenty-fifth. Eleven.”
    “What tribe are you?” The words were different than before—softer, filled with curiosity.
    “Arapaho. Didn’t grow up on the res, though. My mother is white. I lived in her world until she died.”
    “And your dad? Where’d you get the name Dickson?”
    “He was three-quarter. His grandfather was white, his father half, his mother full Arapaho. We go by his name in the world.”
    “Guess that explains the cheekbones and the green eyes. And the spooky silence.”
    Suddenly aware that he was lying full body on Eli Mason with an audience, Creed scrambled to his feet. He stood, swaying a little, dripping water from head to sodden toe. He looked around wildly, trying to figure out if he’d done or said something he shouldn’t have. “What happened?”
    “Sunstroke. Thought your heart was going to explode there for a little while. You’d stopped sweating. We had to cool you down,” Eli said from the floor of the horse shower. He was soaked too.
    “Oh.” He pushed wet hair out of his face; his hands shook a little more than they should. “My throat hurts.”
    “Because you puked about a week’s worth of groceries down the drain. Damn, Creed, don’t scare the shit out of me like that again.” Eli climbed off the floor and went out to grab a towel.
    “It wasn’t his fault, Eli; it’s too damned hot out there. He’s not used to this kind of heat. Give him a break.” Sawyer handed Creed a towel and a bottle of sports drink.
    “I know that, Sawyer. Hell, I’m trying to stop thinking about watching a man die; I’ve seen it before. He started convulsing and—”
    “I didn’t start convulsing. I’m okay.”
    “It was close, okay, Creed. Close. We probably should take him to the ER and make sure he’s out of danger.”
    “No,” Creed murmured. His head was hurting but that was about it.
    “The ranch is insured, Creed, workmen’s comp will cover it,” Eli said, but Creed sliced the air with his hands.
    “I’m fine. No hospitals.” He opened the bottle and drank most of the vile liquid down. “I need to see about Kip and change clothes. I’m fine.”
    “Kip is fine. My boys cleaned him up. Checked him for any heat problems and let him out into the pasture. He’s over in the shade with the ladies.”