Although he experienced a great season on the rodeo circuit, two other riders had done equally well. They were all so close in their ranking, who walked away the winner was going to be anybody’s guess as it came down to this last ride.
While he tried to center his thoughts on taking the championship title, a pair of warm brown eyes and rosy lips disrupted his focus.
In the weeks since Kenzie ran away from him, he’d been plagued by a constant pain in the region of his heart. Even after renewing his commitment to taking the title, the pain remained, eating away at him. Right up until she smiled at him at the Christmas vendor show.
Seeing Kenzie again made it perfectly clear to Tate he needed her. Without her, his life seemed so empty and incomplete. In the short time they spent together that afternoon, he’d suddenly found a part of himself that had been missing since September.
From the way she looked at him earlier, he hoped they had a chance of resuming their relationship and moving forward together.
The kiss they shared made him think he still had a shot at winning her heart. If it rattled her half as much as it had him, there was definitely something undeniably powerful between them.
“You ready to do this?” Cort asked, slapping Tate on the back as he stepped beside him, rousing him from his visions of Kenzie.
“What do you think?” Tate adjusted the buckle on his chaps, floating on adrenaline and hope.
“I think you’re ready to take home the title and then see about chasing after one very attractive business skirt.” Cort referred to the suits Kenzie usually wore. “For the record, she also makes a smokin’ hot cowgirl.”
Tate gave Cort a cautionary look then thumped him on the shoulder. “Just keep in mind she’s already taken, man.”
Cort grinned then hustled off to compete. Tate stood on a gate and cheered when Cort took the high score for the night, placing him second overall.
Returning his attention to getting ready for his ride, it wasn’t long before he walked up to the chutes and prepared to mount Twister. Tate hoped history would repeat itself tonight, considering the score he got the last time he rode the horse.
Softly talking to the animal, Tate asked him to give the ride his best. When the horse bobbed his head, Tate took that as agreement on his part.
Intent on blocking the other riders and their scores from his mind, he took a series of cleansing breaths, slid on the back of the horse, and found his center. After tightening the rein in his left hand, he pulled down his hat, took one more deep breath and nodded his head for the gate to open. “Let’s do it!”
Right out of the chute, something inside Twister seemed to snap as the big animal leaped and contorted beneath Tate. It took every ounce of concentration and skill on his part to stay in the saddle. He tried to anticipate what the animal would do next.
Twister suddenly shot up in the air then flung his body to the side. The force of the action carried him completely over. Before Tate could jump out of the way, Twister crashed on top of him and the world went black.
When he came to, Tate heard voices close around him, although the words sounded muffled. As he struggled to gather his thoughts together, the last thing he remembered was Twister coming over backward and the fear he’d be crushed beneath the horse.
Since the gritty taste of dirt filled his mouth and he could smell horses, manure, and sweat, he went with the assumption that he was lying on the ground in the arena.
Quickly taking stock of his aches and pains, his head throbbed, it was hard to breathe, and his left arm felt like someone clamped it in a vise. His left knee also hurt, though not with the intensity of his arm.
Hesitant to open his eyes and visually assess the damage, he finally pried one eye open then the other. Cort hovered above him, worry etching lines across his face.
“You okay, man?” Cort’s voice was laced with concern as he removed Tate’s mouth guard so he could talk.
“Depends,” Tate managed to say through the jaw he clenched against a wave of pain, noticing several other faces above him.
“On what?” Cort moved back slightly to allow more room for the medical team.
“Did I score?” Tate asked, hoping the horse didn’t go down until after he’d ridden the required eight seconds.
“No.” Cort shook his head. He retrieved Tate’s hat from the arena floor and slapped it lightly against his leg, dislodging a cloud of dust. “The buzzer went off just as Twister got to his feet. I think they’ll give you a re-ride if you can manage it.”
“Whether he gets one or not, there is no way he’s riding again tonight,” one of the medic team said. “From the way you look, I’d say missing the re-ride is the least of your problems.”
“Just tape me up and I’ll be fine. Tell the judges I’m asking for a re-ride.” Tate battled the urge to be ill right there in the arena. His head pounded in rhythm with his heart and each beat made him dizzy and nauseous. When it became apparent he couldn’t get to his feet and walk out of the arena, Tate was loaded on a stretcher and hauled out. He waved to the crowd with his good hand and received a roaring round of applause.
“Let Tate know what you think about all his hard work here at the rodeo, folks. It’s gonna be hard for that cowboy to end the year like this,” the announcer said, encouraging more clapping and cheers as Tate was carried through a gate and out of sight.
After rushing him to the treatment area, the medics removed his protective vest, chaps and shirt then split open the leg of his jeans. The doctors probed his side when he heard Huck’s voice outside the door.
“She’s family, just let her in.” Huck sounded aggravated. He strode into the room with Kenzie beside him and stopped next to Cort.
“Hey, Dewdrop,” Tate said, trying to muster a grin which looked more like a grimace as pain wracked through his body. Despite everything, her presence had a calming effect on him. “I might need to take a rain check on our dinner tonight.”
“You think?” Kenzie smiled around the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
A fine coating of dust from the arena covered Tate’s hair along with his face, which looked unnaturally pale beneath the dirt. His eyes were glassy and he clenched his jaw so tightly, she could see the cords stand out in his neck.
Somewhat unnerved by his bare torso, Kenzie moved to stand by Tate’s head and hold his good hand. Huck quietly said something to Cort then ran out the door to get ready for his upcoming ride.
The doctor let out a relieved sigh following an examination and X-rays. “You’ve got a mild concussion, fractured arm, three cracked ribs, and a wrenched knee.” The doctor crossed his arms over his chest. “Considering how that horse fell, you’re lucky he didn’t do more damage. We’ll splint your arm, brace your knee and ice your ribs. Other than that, there isn’t much else we can do for you, son.”
Tate tried to sit up and sucked in a gulp of air as his ribs protested. Kenzie watched as the doctor helped him into a sitting position. “I need to…”
“You aren’t going back out there. There is no way on God’s green earth you can ride anything else tonight, and not for several weeks until your injuries mend.” The doctor gave Tate a stern look.
“But if I don’t ride again and score, I’m…”
Cort shook his head at Tate, cutting off whatever else he planned to say. “Still going to place, it just won’t be first.”
Disappointment settled over Tate like a wet blanket.
“I’m sorry, man.” Cort started to thump his shoulder then thought better of it, dropping his hand to his side.
Tate kept his mouth shut, clamping his lips together to fight both his pain and his anger. Not a single person in the room, including his best friend, would let him get back on a horse.
Before he could further reflect on his misfortune, the doctor put a splint on his arm. Unable to do anything but endure his ministrations, the pain medication kicked in and his body relaxed while his eyes began to droop.
“Just rest
awhile, Tate.” The doctor helped him recline on a narrow bed then walked Cort and Kenzie toward the door.
Tate raised his head and looked at them with a pleading gaze. “Tell Huck to nail it.”
Cort nodded his head and walked out the door with the doctor and Kenzie.
“We’ll hold him here for a while, make sure we didn’t miss anything, and keep an eye on that concussion. You two might as well go watch Huck ride. When you come back, we’ll discuss getting Tate home as quickly and with as much comfort as possible.”
“Thanks, sir.” Cort took Kenzie’s arm and guided her back to the arena. Returning to where Mara and the kids sat, they answered her questions and waited anxiously for Huck to make his ride.
Kenzie watched in wonder and admiration as Huck not only had an incredible ride, but also stayed on the bull long past the time the buzzer sounded, his hand waving in the air triumphantly.
The crowed surged to its feet, whistling and shouting their approval, knowing Huck rode the extra time for his injured friend.
As a reporter shoved a mic in his face a few minutes after the ride that garnered him the championship title, Huck looked in the camera and smiled, answering the reporter’s numerous questions. Asked about riding the bull the additional time Huck simply said, “that’s for Tate,” touched his fingers to the brim of his hat with a brief tug and walked off.
Kenzie certainly hoped someone recorded the rodeo or had shot a video of Huck’s ride to share with Tate. She could probably find it on YouTube in a day or two.
As she mused over modern technology, her phone rang with a number she recognized belonging to Tate’s father.
“Hi, Kent. This is Kenzie,” she said. The old cowboy was no doubt sitting up watching the rodeo on television. She plugged her other ear with her finger in an attempt to cut down on the surrounding noise then pressed the phone closer, trying to hear what Tate’s father said.
“How’s my boy?” Kent asked, his voice sounding worried and raspy.
“He’s going to be okay.” She adopted a cheerful tone. “He’s got a broken arm, a few cracked ribs, a wrenched knee, and a concussion. The doctor said he’ll be fine once everything mends.”
“That’s a relief.” Kent released a sigh. “Where’s he at now?”
“With the medic team. They gave him some painkillers and he’s resting.” Curious how Kent knew she’d be with Tate, she asked. “How did you know to call me?”
“Tate called earlier to say he ran into you today and was planning on taking you out to dinner later.” Kenzie could hear the smile in his voice. “That boy was pleased as punch to see you again.”
“I was happy to see him, too,” Kenzie admitted as much to Kent as to herself. “I’ll let you know if there’s anything new to report, but from what they’ve said so far, he’ll be just fine. He’s plenty mad about not getting his re-ride, though.”
Kent chuckled. “I’m betting he’s more than mad. He probably thought they could tape him up and turn him loose.”
“Something like that,” Kenzie said, realizing Kent knew his son well. She imagined Tate probably inherited some of his tenacity from his father.
“Keep watch over that boy of mine, honey, and let me know how things look tomorrow,” Kent said, his relief carrying through to Kenzie that she was there for Tate.
“I will. Good night, sir.”
“Good night, sweetheart.” Kent disconnected the call.
The Powell family and Kenzie cheered enthusiastically as the winners entered the arena. Kenzie fought back her tears, knowing how hard Tate worked to be there with them, how close he came to taking the title. Sniffling, she turned a watery smile to Mara who nodded her head.
While Huck spoke with more reporters, Cort picked up Hunter. Mara carried baby Bree, leaving Kenzie to hold Katie’s hand as they walked out of the stands. Huck met them at the door, taking his son from Cort and shaking his hand.
“That was quite a ride, Mr. Powell.” Cort grinned at Huck, slapping him on the back. “Congrats on winning the title again this year.”
“Thanks, man. Some congrats are in order for you, too. Second place is nothing to sneeze at.” Huck kissed Mara and his two girls before accepting Kenzie’s hug and words of congratulations.
“So what do we know about Tate?” Huck asked as he followed Kenzie and Mara to the medical center.
“That he’ll be fine but it’s going to take some time to heal.” Cort looked at Huck and shook his head as they entered the medical center. Tate wasn’t going to be happy about being laid up with injuries when he would no doubt be ready to tackle a new year on the circuit and come out on top.
Huck looked thoughtful a moment before responding. “We’re all sorry for Tate. He worked so hard for the title and to lose it at the last second seems so unfair.”
“Yes, it does.” Kenzie ruffled Katie’s hair when the little girl leaned against her, wrapping her arms around her leg and holding on.
“Did you see my daddy ride?” Katie asked, still wound up from all the excitement.
“I sure did.” Kenzie knelt down so she was on eye level with the child. “He did a great job, didn’t he?”
“Yep. My daddy’s the best,” Katie said, puffing up with pride. “Everybody said so. He gets the trophy and everything!”
“Congratulations again, Huck. You certainly deserved it.” Kenzie smiled at the champion bull rider then stood when the doctor entered the room and offered them an encouraging smile.
“Tate’s a lucky man, considering what happened. I can think of a few dozen ways this could have gone much, much worse. His concussion should be fine in a day or two, and his ribs should be better in a week to ten days. His left arm has a fracture with some swelling. We put a splint on it but as soon as the swelling goes down, his doctor will most likely cast it. His knee has a slight tear in the cartilage. Nothing that needs surgery. Some rest, ice, and a compression bandage should take care of it. I’d like him to see his regular doctor in a day or two, just to make sure everything is on the mend.”
A collective sigh of relief echoed through the room and the doctor again smiled. “There really isn’t anything further we can do for him. Was he planning on driving or flying home?”
“Driving.” Cort was privy to Tate’s travel plans. “He was supposed to leave with me tomorrow.”
“Where are you boys headed?”
“Boise, Idaho.” The ten-hour drive wouldn’t be good for Tate. Even after they reached Boise, Tate would still need to get to Kennewick from there.
“I’d rather he waited a few days, but I’ve already concluded that won’t happen. It would make me much more comfortable releasing him if we can get him on a flight home. The sooner he can be restful, the faster he’ll start his recovery.” The doctor looked around the room. “He’s going to be pretty sore and tender for a while and will need some basic care, like getting ice for his knee, arm and ribs, keeping an eye on his concussion, making sure he doesn’t try to lift anything.”
“I can try to get him on my flight,” Kenzie heard herself say as she looked at the doctor. “I was going home tomorrow anyway, but my flight leaves early in the morning.”
“See if you can get him a ticket,” the doctor said, knowing the sooner they could get Tate on his way home, the better for everyone. The trip would be unpleasant at best, but knowing cowboys as well as he did, he knew Tate wouldn’t laze around a hotel room until he felt well enough to travel. “You’ll need a wheelchair for him. Be sure to let the ticket agent know that when you call. I’ll give you a list of things you can do to help ease his travel experience as well as provide care for the next week.”
“Kenzie, are you sure you want to do this?” Mara asked, placing a hand on Kenzie’s arm, giving her an uncertain glance. Considering the fact she hadn’t even been speaking to Tate twenty-four hours ago, they all looked at her with apprehension.
“I’m sure,” Kenzie said, determined to help the wounded man as best she could. “I’m flying the s
ame direction anyway.”
“I could park my truck and fly him home then come back to get it.” Cort ran a hand through his already disheveled hair.
“There’s no need for that.” Adamantly, Kenzie shook her head. “I can get him home. I promise.”
“If you’re sure…” Huck held a sleeping Hunter against his chest. “We can make other arrangements if you’d rather not mess with this.”
“I wouldn’t call helping out a friend ‘messing with this.’ You can trust me to get him home.” Kenzie smiled reassuringly from Huck to Cort. “It’ll be fine. No problem.”
Huck and Mara left to put the kids to bed before Huck had to attend the award ceremony held at one of the hotels while Cort and Kenzie went over a list of things they could do to help Tate feel more comfortable with the doctor.
Finally rousing Tate and checking him one more time, the doctor handed Kenzie his pain pills while Cort went to get his truck. With Tate’s arm in a sling, they draped his shirt around his shoulders and helped him into a wheelchair. The doctor wheeled Tate outside and Cort helped hoist him into the pickup.
“Good luck to all three of you,” the doctor said, shaking his head as he took the chair back inside, knowing they’d all need it. He’d seen enough injured cowboys to know the “suck it up” mentality made them quite a challenge for a caregiver to handle.
Chapter Eleven
Cort parked the truck at the hotel’s front entrance then hurried around the truck. He took the wheelchair one of the hotel staff brought out, moving it close to the passenger door.
Kenzie had called ahead and asked the concierge to have a chair ready when they arrived. She climbed out on Cort’s side of the truck and ran around to offer her assistance.
Tate’s face was a shade somewhere between green and gray as they helped him into the chair and wheeled him inside. Cort handed Kenzie his room key and ran back out to move his truck while the bellman pushed Tate’s wheelchair to the elevator.
When they reached his floor, Kenzie was thankful the room wasn’t far down the hall. She swiped the key and held the door as the helpful young man wheeled Tate into the room.
The Christmas Cowboy: (Sweet Western Holiday Romance) (Rodeo Romance Book 1) Page 12
