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he got closer he recognized the shape of a downed body on the ground. Everything blended into the surrounding hues but that one speck of coppery red, and he was certain it was Tess’s long hair.
    He rode hard and reached her quickly, dismounting and bending over her. She lay still. And quiet. Blood, now dried, lay at the back of her head, mingling into the tresses and matting the hair down.
    He scoured her body for other injuries.
    “Tess.”
    She didn’t respond.
    “Tess,” he said, tapping her cheek. “Wake up.”
    She made a slight move, then scowled with closed eyes, a look of pain crossing her face.
    He cupped her head in his hands and called her name again. “Tess. Wake up.”
    This time her eyes opened, her eyelashes fluttering as she blinked.
    “Stay still,” he said calmly, reassuring her. “You took a bad fall.”
    She looked up at him and spoke in a whisper with soft wonder in her voice. “You came for me?”
    “I found Maple out in the pasture.”
    She continued to focus those blue eyes on him. Today they appeared lighter in color, like a fading winter sky. “I almost didn’t see you.” He took his hands from her face and gazed at her hair. “Good thing your hair is the color of a Texas sunset.”
    She took a deep breath, then wet her parched lips with her tongue. “Hold on,” he said, then whipped his bandanna off his neck and blotted at the dried blood on her head very gently, managing to clean up the last remnants. “I’ll get you some water.”
    He whistled and Midnight stepped up. He took the canteen and went back to Tess. Bending, he dripped water onto her lips. “Easy, now.”
    No telling how long she’d been there with the sun beating down on her. The soft blouse she wore had ripped at the shoulder, leaving her arm exposed, reddened now from the intense heat. Her cheeks were sunburned and her skin bore a fine sheen of moisture.
    She sipped the water, her mouth opening as he offered her liquid in small amounts. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Lie still and don’t move.”
    Clint roamed his hands over her arms cautiously, feeling for injury. He lifted her blouse and moved over her torso with finite precision. He was a healer of sorts. Of course, his expertise had nothing to do with people, but he could recognize damage when he saw or felt it.
    Right now all he felt was soft, exquisite skin under his palms. He inhaled sharply, reminded of who Tess was and all his reasons for hating her. But she was injured and Clint couldn’t ignore that.
    He scooted over to her side. “Can you wiggle your toes?” If she had feeling in her feet, there’d be no need to remove her boots just yet.
    She concentrated for a second, then nodded. “Yes.”
    “Good.” He rode his hands up and down one leg, then the other. She wore a split riding skirt, and he attempted to lift the lower part to see her legs, but the material was twisted under her and he was able to see only to her knees. “Any pain here?”
    “No.”
    She watched him survey her body, those curious, untrusting eyes following his every movement. He couldn’t blame her. He didn’t trust her, either.
    “What about your back? Don’t move, but are you in any pain there?”
    Again she concentrated. “I don’t think so. I’m just stunned.”
    “You’ve been unconscious for quite a while,” he told her. “It’s well after noon and you’ve been burned by the sun. No doubt you’re not going to feel well for a few days, but I can’t find any injury other than your head.”
    She lifted her arm and felt the bump. “Oh! I do feel that.”
    “You should. You hit it on a rock and bled some, but that’s over and done with. Now I need to get you outta this sun.”
    “No, I want to go back,” she protested.
    “Not yet,” he said before carefully scooping her. She was lighter than a sack of feathers and fit easily in his arms. “Hold tight.”
    She roped her arms around his neck, and as he strode toward the