by Amanda Renee
“Go ahead, I can take him back to the cottage,” Sheila said. It would give her a chance to spend a little one-on-one time with Gunner anyway. How else would she know how she felt about a future with Brady if she didn’t spend time alone with his son?
Gunner reached up and took Sheila’s hand in his. She loved tiny hands. They always felt so soft and smooth. She’d held many of them in the emergency room, but this was different. This was definitely more personal. She wondered if Brady had resembled Gunner at his age.
“Loose bull!” someone shouted.
A woman screamed behind them. Sheila scooped Gunner up into her arms protectively, not knowing where the bull was. They were in an open area between the rodeo school and the hippotherapy center. “I’ve got you, baby.” She started running toward the hippotherapy corral. If she could get them over the fence, they’d be safe.
Gunner started wailing and kicking in her arms. She tightened her grip. The sound of hooves thundered behind them. She couldn’t look. She couldn’t waste even a fraction of a second to turn around.
Out of nowhere, a piercing whistle sounded repeatedly. The hooves stopped. Sheila reached the fence and pushed Gunner between the bottom and middle rails. “You stay right there. Don’t move an inch.” Sheila climbed over the fence and dropped down beside him on the other side. She lifted him into her arms again and braved a look behind them.
She heard the earsplitting whistle again.
“Daddy!” Gunner pointed. “That’s my daddy.”
The bull stood between them and Brady. The animal shook his head from side to side. Pawing at the ground with his massive black hoof. Brady stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled again and again while waving his hands in the air to attract the bull’s attention.
The animal began to charge.
“Brady! No!” Sheila tucked Gunner’s head under her chin so he wouldn’t see what was about to happen. “Please no—please!” Sheila prayed, tears streamed down her face.
“Daddy!” Gunner cried.
She didn’t want to watch, but she found it impossible to turn away. The man she’d fallen in love with—the man she’d helped put back together was about to be trampled by a bull and she was helpless to do anything about it. Within seconds, the animal was upon him and she knew it was the last time she’d see Brady alive.
And then it was over.
Brady grabbed the top fence rail of the rodeo school’s round pen and vaulted over it, out of the bull’s reach. Another cowboy opened the gate a few feet away and the bull ran through it, into a holding pen.
Sheila fell to her knees, still holding Gunner.
“Sheila.” Thomas lifted her up as Gracie removed Gunner from her arms. “I’ve got you.” Thomas turned her toward him. “Are you all right? Does it hurt anywhere?”
Sheila shook her head. She was in shock. She knew she was in shock and she couldn’t speak. She reached behind her for Gunner, but Thomas pulled her arms toward him, holding them up in the air to make sure she wasn’t injured. “Gracie has Gunner. He’s okay. You’re okay.”
“Brady.” His name was barely audible on her lips.
“Brady’s okay too,” he reassured.
“Let’s get them inside” she heard Thomas say to Gracie.
Her head began to swim, the earth seemed to kick out beneath her and then everything went black.
Chapter Twelve
When Sheila awoke, it took her a few moments to realize where she was. Gunner was fast asleep beside her on Brady’s bed in the cottage. She sat up and looked around the room. Gracie smiled at her from the bedside chair.
“Look who’s awake.” She brushed the hair out of Sheila’s face. “I’ve always wondered if you were human—you always appear so invincible. Today you proved you’re one of us after all.”
“How did I get here?” Various images flashed in her brain. Gunner in her arms. A bull. Brady. “Where’s Brady?”
“He was in here a few minutes ago. He just stepped outside.”
Sheila swung her legs out of bed and attempted to stand. The room tilted.
“Easy, Sheila. You fainted. Twice.”
“Twice?” She tried to shake the cobwebs from her brain. “I’ve never fainted in my life.”
“Surprise.” Gracie opened her arms wide. “You did today. And rightfully so. I always knew you were a hero.”
“What are you talking about?” Sheila still couldn’t process what was going on.
“The way you ran with Gunner in your arms.” Gracie whistled. “You were a woman on a mission. You saved that child from certain death.”
“Do that again.”
“Do what again?” Gracie asked.
“Whistle. I remember really loud whistle.” Sheila covered her ears. “It was so loud, it hurt.”
“That was Brady. He was the second hero of the day. He stopped the bull from running after you by whistling and carrying on like a...well...lunatic. All those upper-body workouts paid off. That man hoisted himself over that fence like it was nothing.”
Sheila closed her eyes, rewatching the scene unfold before her.
“I need to stand up.” Sheila allowed Gracie to support her weight. “I’m okay. I just need to splash some water on my face.”
Sheila managed to walk to the bathroom by herself. She looked down at the once-white lace top she’d carefully picked out for a fun afternoon. It was covered in dirt and grass stains. Not that she cared. It was just a shirt. Gunner and Brady were safe and nobody had been hurt. That was what mattered.
She allowed herself a few private moments before she opened the bathroom door. She grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and sat down at the table. Twisting off the cap, she noticed a legal pad with various notes scribbled on it. She slid it toward her, realizing they were a list of rodeo events with this year’s dates next to them.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
She’d gotten him a job, a better job than she had imagined she’d get him, and he was still planning on competing in a few months.
“What’s wrong?” Gracie asked.
The front door opened and Brady entered. He smiled at her. “Sleeping beauty has risen.”
“What are these?” Sheila waved the pad in the air. “I think I know the answer, but I want to hear from you.”
“Those are events I’m hoping to compete in this year.”
“You are the most ungrateful, selfish—” She stopped herself from saying any more for fear she’d wake Gunner. She tossed the pad on the table and stormed across the room. “Your son and I were almost killed by a bull today. You were almost killed by a bull today. Your son watched a bull run you down and you think nothing of entering the ring again.”
“You knew this was my plan all along,” Brady said.
“You’re right, I did. But somewhere, somehow, I stupidly thought that if I got you a job here, you’d want to stay. Big mistake. Huge.”
“Whoa. You’re the reason Kay asked me to work here?”
“Yes. I am.” Sheila crossed her arms. “I asked her to hire you as a helper or to train you to provide hippotherapy. She obviously had a different job in mind. When you told me about the job earlier, it was the first I’d heard of it and I was grateful she thought so highly of you. You’re a perfect fit. But you don’t care. All you care about is getting back in that damn arena. I don’t matter to you. Gunner doesn’t matter to you. Your dad and Alice don’t matter to you.” Sheila took a step back. She wanted to slug him. She couldn’t remember ever being so angry with someone for being so careless with their life. “You know what, I’m done. I refuse to watch you destroy your life. We’re through.”
* * *
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON Sheila knocked on Dr. Mangone’s open office door.
“Do you have
a few minutes?” she asked.
“A few.” He glanced up at the clock on the wall. “What can I do for you?”
Sheila closed the door behind her.
“This looks serious.” Dr. Mangone closed the folder on his desk. “Have a seat and tell me what’s wrong.”
Sheila had stayed awake all night trying to find a way around what she was about to do, but she’d come up empty. She’d known what she was getting herself into and now she needed to correct her mistake. “I can no longer see Brady Sawyer as a patient.”
“This is unusual.” He flipped the page of his notepad.
“It is?” Sheila had pored over the American Medical Association guidelines last night along with the Texas Medical Board’s and Grace General’s policy guidelines. “It’s my understanding that if there is a conflict of interest I’m obligated to refuse to treat him further.”
“Why don’t you start from the beginning and tell me what’s going on.” He picked up his pen.
Sheila took a deep breath. “Mr. Sawyer has developed romantic feelings toward me and I feel uncomfortable treating him.” She exhaled.
He jotted notes on his pad. “Many patients develop crushes on their physicians. Has he made any advances toward you or is this just a feeling that you have? And before you answer, understand that I’m not diminishing anything you’re saying. I do need to know the details.”
“Mr. Sawyer has kissed me on more than one occasion.”
“I see.” Dr. Mangone peered over his glasses. “Did he force himself on you?”
She sucked in her bottom lip, knowing this conversation could be the end of her career. “No. It was a mutual attraction that has since ended.”
Dr. Mangone removed his glasses, set them on the desk and rubbed his eyes. “Sheila, how could you jeopardize your job like this?”
“I don’t know.” She’d asked herself that same question a thousand times. “I don’t have an answer other than I followed my heart. I was attracted to Brady Sawyer. I know I shouldn’t have been. And I tried to stay away from him. But I failed. I’ve never failed at anything. I made a mistake and I own up to it.”
“Are you sure it’s really over?” Dr. Mangone asked.
Sheila nodded. “Most definitely.” The conflict of interest where her job was concerned was bad enough. She wasn’t prepared to deal with his unyielding desire to compete again and his unwillingness to consider the feelings of those around him. “I cannot be involved with somebody who’s so careless with his life.” Sheila ran her palms down the front of her pants. “He doesn’t understand what you and I saw the night he was admitted. He slept through it. We have that vivid image imprinted in our brains—at least I do. I can’t stand by and watch somebody I care about destroy himself.”
“This sounds like more than just a fleeting romance. This is none of my business and you don’t have to answer, but are you in love with Brady Sawyer?”
“No.” She raised her chin. “No, I am not.” Not anymore, she thought to herself.
“I’ll transfer Mr. Sawyer’s case over to Dr. Washburn.” He scribbled furiously on a form he’d removed from the filing cabinet. “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to send you to Dance of Hope anymore.”
“I can’t see my patients?” She’d known that even if he didn’t fire her, she might lose Dance of Hope. She’d prayed there would be some way around it.
“As of today they’re not your patients anymore. I can’t justify sending a doctor out there just to see one patient. You’re officially off Dance of Hope, and I’ll need to ask you to keep your distance from the facility for a while. At least as long as Brady Sawyer is residing there. We’ll consider reinstatement once he’s gone. I’m sorry, Sheila. You knew the repercussions. I won’t go to the AMA with this because, dammit, you’re a good doctor. You’re one of the best surgeons we have here and I know how much you want to get into our fellowship program. I’m going to leave this between Mr. Sawyer, you and me, providing you can reassure me that nobody else knows about this relationship. If this is public knowledge, then it’s out of my hands.”
“Nobody else knows.” At least no one at the hospital. Sheila’s heart broke. Hippotherapy had inspired her to become an orthopedic surgeon and now it was gone. Dance of Hope was the only center around. She’d made the biggest mistake of her life and she couldn’t take it back. She didn’t know which hurt more, walking away from Brady or walking away from Dance of Hope. “I appreciate your keeping this off the record.”
“You’re human. You’re not the first physician it has happened to and you won’t be the last. Our patients entrust us with their lives. A relationship beyond that violates that trust. This better not happen again.”
“It won’t.” Sheila would never give her heart so carelessly to a man again.
* * *
BRADY WAS STILL annoyed nobody would give him Sheila’s cell phone number. He hated that he’d resorted to calling her at work, but she’d left him no choice. He’d had her paged once that morning, she’d taken his call only to chastise him. She’d told him unless it was medically related she couldn’t speak with him.
When he’d tried to reach her that afternoon, he was beyond ticked that another doctor had answered her page and informed him that Sheila was no longer his physician. He knew he shouldn’t have called her at work, but it wasn’t as if he could hop in the car and drive over to her house for a visit. If he had, she’d probably report him for stalking. Regardless, she could have handled the situation much better. He shouldn’t have to, but he felt the need to discuss the rodeo schedule she saw yesterday. If she could dismiss him so easily without even talking about it, then maybe he was better off without her. He didn’t need anyone’s approval. He’d prove them all wrong.
Abby had called in sick that day and Brady had gone ahead with physical therapy on his own. With the exception of working on his reflex speed so that he could drive again, he really didn’t need any more therapy. Walking continued to improve his balance and increase his strength. He’d already begun leaving his cane aside when he was at the cottage or in the cafeteria and lounge areas of Dance of Hope.
It was still the first week in August and he refused to spend it indoors. He walked down to the rodeo school and cheered on the incoming session of riders.
“Brady.” Shane Langtry, one of the rodeo school owners waved him over from the other side of the round pen.
He made his way past the new students to where Shane was standing.
“Hey, man.” Shane shook his hand. “I haven’t had a chance to personally apologize for yesterday’s incident or to thank you for what you did. I realize my bull charged your kid, and that never should have happened, but you handled yourself like a pro. You were a hell of a lot calmer than I would have been in the same situation. I have a few hours free this evening if you want to squeeze some training in.”
“I’d like that.” Brady picked up a bull rope from the ground. “I want to run something past you. I have no doubt I’ll compete again, but I only have a couple good years left, if that. I’d like to get into teaching and I wondered if you’d consider bringing me on at some point in the future.”
“I’ve seen you compete on the circuit and I’ve already seen you schooling some of my students.” Shane climbed up the fence and sat on the top rail. “Our August session is our busiest month and we can always use an extra hand or two. How about we try you out and see what happens? You can go through boot camp with the kids, learn the ropes of the school, and it will help you get back in shape to compete. It’s a win-win. We’ll reevaluate the situation come September.”
When Brady had made the suggestion, he’d been thinking a year from now. He couldn’t believe the same family had offered him two jobs. “Thanks, man.” Brady shook his hand. “I didn’t expect you to need me right away, but it’s all good. You know your mom hired me to work
a couple days a week once my therapy is completed.”
“She told me. We’ll work something out. I’ll need you more in the summer and after school once the season’s over with. You could work with my mom when the school isn’t in session. And it would still give you plenty of time to compete. I’m assuming you have horses. I don’t know what your situation is at home, but if you work for me, I provide stalls for my employees’ horses. You’re still responsible for everything else they need, but you do get prime Bridle Dance space. I provide a maximum of two stalls per employee. Anything more than that you have to pay for. And if you need a place to live, we have bunkhouses, and we can take your room and board out of your paycheck.”
That was an option Brady hadn’t known about. Regardless of whether or not he could drive, commuting back and forth to the ranch daily would be a two-hour round-trip. He’d bought his house in January, moved in in February, and was laid up in the hospital by the middle of April. He’d spent a total of two and a half months in the place. He had no real emotional attachment to it.
As for Gunner, he had a room in his mom’s apartment and his grandfather’s house. When it was Brady’s turn to have him he could always stay with him at his dad’s.
“Do you mind if I take a day to figure out the logistics?” Brady asked.
“Sure, but how would you feel about jumping in today and teaching these kids a thing or two? I could really use the help.”
Brady extended his hand. “It would be my pleasure.”
* * *
A WEEK LATER and Sheila still couldn’t get Brady out of her head. Dr. Washburn had successfully taken over her rounds at Dance of Hope, but according to Gracie, the residents hadn’t warmed up to him yet. He’d been there only twice. Sheila was certain once they got used to him, the patients there would develop a similar rapport to what they’d shared with her.
She missed her patients. She missed Brady. She wanted to blame someone, but she couldn’t. She was miserable. The fellowship program at Grace General that she’d worked so hard for no longer held the same appeal—she’d specifically chosen the hospital because of its proximity to Dance of Hope. She’d already begun looking for another fellowship near a hippotherapy center. A hospital in northern California looked promising. It was actively involved with a facility similar to Dance of Hope. She’d wait until Brady completed his rehabilitation to see if Dr. Mangone would reinstate her. If not, she’d pursue the other program further. California wasn’t ideal, but she needed to prioritize and her career came first. She considered hippotherapy a big part of her future.
