A Bull Rider's Pride

by Amanda Renee

  Her phone rang in her lab coat pocket. “Dr. Lindstrom speaking.”

  “Gracie speaking. Can you come out and play or are you still grounded?”

  Sheila laughed. Dr. Mangone’s punishment sure felt like a grounding. “Is Brady Sawyer still a patient there?”

  “For now. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was gone by tomorrow. We’re not doing much for him anymore. Besides, he spends all his time at the rodeo school.”

  That figured. Even after everything she’d said and all that had happened, he was still planning to compete. “As long as he’s there, I can’t be. I don’t even know if I’ll ever be permitted to work there again.”

  “You’re not allowed to be at Dance of Hope as a physician, but that doesn’t include the rest of the ranch. Dance of Hope is just a tiny section of it. Kay makes the rules when it comes to the ranch and she says you’re welcome here.”

  Sheila knew she was right, but she feared she’d run into Dr. Washburn and he’d tell Dr. Mangone he’d seen her at the ranch. After her attending had been gracious enough not to report her to the American Medical Association, she felt it was best to do whatever he asked of her.

  “We have a few patients leaving this weekend and we’re throwing them a little party tonight. It would be nice if you’d say goodbye to them. I know they would certainly appreciate it.”

  “If I can get clearance from my attending, I will stop by after work. No promises, Gracie.”

  “I’m just glad you’ll make an attempt,” Gracie said. “Let me know what you decide.”

  * * *

  A FEW HOURS later Sheila drove through the Bridle Dance Ranch’s main entrance gates. Dr. Mangone had given her permission to visit Dance of Hope. He’d also informed her that Dr. Washburn was not thrilled about missing OR time because he had to “play in the dirt.” Before she left Dr. Mangone’s office, he told her she could return to Dance of Hope once Brady was no longer a patient. She had been so overwhelmed with relief, she’d almost hugged Dr. Mangone—and he was definitely not a huggable man.

  She parked and stepped out of her car. The lot seemed unusually silent. The corrals in front of the rodeo school were empty. The arena was empty too. It was quiet. Eerily quiet. Until she entered Dance of Hope.

  There were streamers, balloons and cake for the departing residents. Some patients were graduating to different types of therapy facilities while others would probably be back for maintenance therapy. Hippotherapy tended to be ongoing for those with lifelong conditions. As soon as she entered the room, she realized how much she missed Dance of Hope.

  She spent the next hour with her extended family at the center. She was surprised that, as close as he had become with many of the residents, Brady was conspicuously absent from the festivities. She wanted to ask his whereabouts but decided she was better off not knowing. For all she knew, he was asked to stay away. Her mind realized Brady’s absence was for the best, but her heart kept looking for a chance encounter. She felt they owed it to one another to talk. A part of her even felt the need to apologize for trying to dissuade him from following his dreams and for not telling him personally that she would no longer be his physician.

  She said her goodbyes and headed toward the combined hippotherapy and rodeo school entrance. As she entered the foyer separating the two buildings, she heard whoops and shouts coming from the rodeo school. She opened the door to the arena and saw Brady astride a bull in a chute with Shane standing on the platform next to it, leaning over him. She couldn’t see what they were doing but she knew he was about to ride.

  Her stomach dropped when a buzzer sounded and the chute gate swung wide. The bull charged into the center of the arena with Brady on his back. Sheila swore her heart stopped beating as she watched. Granted there wasn’t much bucking going on and the bull essentially spun in circles before the buzzer sounded again and Brady jumped off. He landed on his feet and two cowboys quickly jumped in to protect him from the bull as he made his way to the fence without assistance. Each deliberate step told Sheila he experienced some discomfort. Even though his walk was two parts limp to one part swagger, it was undeniably testosterone-filled as he climbed over the fence to numerous high fives and congratulatory back slaps.

  The reality of the situation smacked her hard in the face. It was one thing for Brady to talk about competing again, but to actually see him in action, even if only on a starter bull, proved too much. Any second thoughts she’d had vanished.

  “Thank you, Brady Sawyer,” she whispered as she closed the door. “You just saved me from making another mistake.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  October rolled around and two months had passed since Brady had last spoken to Sheila. He’d seen her come and go from Dance of Hope, but she kept her distance and, as a courtesy, he did the same. It hadn’t made it any easier. He missed the hell out of her and couldn’t understand why they weren’t together. But if she couldn’t respect his job the way he had respected hers, who needed her? At least that’s what he thought until he realized he hadn’t exactly respected her job. If he had, he wouldn’t have pursued her so relentlessly.

  His dad and Alice had agreed with him that selling the ranch and moving into one of the Bridle Dance bunkhouses was a good idea. He was always at his dad’s house when Gunner came to visit anyway. Gunner staying over there hadn’t been much of a change—it had actually been easier since they weren’t constantly running back and forth to visit his father. Within weeks of listing the ranch, he’d accepted an offer close to his asking price. After paying off his mortgage, he didn’t have much left over.

  At first, both of his new jobs had been a little overwhelming when added to his training schedule. But the diversity ensured he’d never get bored, plus he had a state-of-the-art facility to train in and recuperate in should the need arise again.

  He’d quit using his cane a few days after Sheila had ended things and refused to see him as a patient any longer. It was rough going at first, but once he’d begun relying solely on his body for support, his recovery had accelerated. He didn’t realize how much he’d depended on the cane until he got rid of it.

  Living on Bridle Dance had permitted him to work out with the rodeo school students every morning in their fitness center. His treadmill activity had increased from a slow walk to a brisk run and while his body still ached, he’d learned to listen to the pain instead of forcing his way through it. Now he was ready for competition.

  There was just one problem. None of it meant anything without Sheila to share it with him. Tonight was his first competitive ride since his accident in April. The Guadalupe County Fair & PRCA Rodeo was in Seguin, Texas, an hour and half southeast of Ramblewood. Even though his family was in attendance, along with Shane and half the rodeo school, Brady kept scanning the stands for Sheila, knowing full well she wouldn’t be there. And why should she? Regardless of her saying she wanted him to make a full recovery, the day he knew she’d feared had finally arrived.

  Brady’s bull was Capone’s Revenge. He had a 70 percent buck-off rate. Not too bad a draw for his first time back in the arena. He was also the first ride of the night and that suited him just fine. The opening ceremony had been agony. He was a bundle of nerves and the longer he waited to ride, the more Sheila’s fears crept into his head. He needed to shake free of her before he climbed on the bull.

  It was time. Months of excruciating hard work had come down to this moment. The anticipation almost unbearable. This was his chance to prove to his fans, sponsors and family that he still had it in him to compete.

  In a few minutes it would all be over and he could finally breathe a sigh of relief. “This one’s for you, Mom.”

  * * *

  SHEILA HADN’T EXPECTED the arena to be so bright. When she heard it was a nighttime rodeo, she’d imagined she and Gracie could sneak in and find seats in the darkness of the opening cerem
ony. Quite the opposite. The lights in the covered open air arena were on full bore, reflecting off the interior of the white roof. They’d heard Brady’s introduction from the parking lot as they walked in. She feared someone from the ranch—or worse, Brady—would spot them. She wished they’d stayed in the parking lot and watched from there. She probably wouldn’t have been able to see his ride, but at least she’d be close by if anything happened.

  “I’m getting a hot dog.” Gracie dug into her pocket for some cash. “Do you want anything?”

  “How can you eat at a time like this?” Sheila couldn’t even stomach the thought of food, let alone snacking like they were at a baseball game.

  “Easy. You surprised me with this impromptu road trip and refused to stop for something to eat on the way, even after I told you I hadn’t eaten lunch or dinner. Pardon me if I’m a little hungry.”

  Sheila shook her head. “Duck down in your seat. I don’t want anyone to see us.”

  “Then what was the point of coming here?” Gracie asked. “There’s Alice and Gunner.” She raised her hand to wave to them before Sheila swatted it down.

  “Stop it.” She’d overheard Brady’s conversation about tonight’s event while she was on rounds at Dance of Hope and immediately roped Gracie into joining her. She’d wanted her friend’s support in case Brady’s ride ended badly, but now she wondered if it would have been better to come alone. Regardless of which way it went, she had to be there. Had to see him ride for herself, not wait by the telephone for someone to call with the results.

  Sheila spotted Brady ascending the stairs to the bull chute platform. “There he is.”

  The announcer said Brady’s name as he climbed over the rails and straddled the bull. Sheila watched him bob up and down a few times as if trying to find a good seat position. Shane stood on the chute platform, his hand in front of Brady’s chest while another man held a rope in front of him. Sheila wished she had taken the time to learn more about the sport. But even she knew any bull he rode tonight would have more fire than the rodeo school’s starter bull. She was glad he’d at least chosen to wear a helmet. Maybe he had learned something.

  After what seemed like an eternity, she saw Brady nod his head. A man stood in the arena holding a rope attached to the chute gate. The hair rose on the back of her neck. She stood to get a better view. The gate swung wide and the massive black bull tore out of the chute. A bell clanged as the animal bucked left then right, almost vertically in no set pattern. The physician in her cringed as she watched Brady’s arm wave in the air as he fought to hang on. But the competitor in her broke free and stood on her seat, screaming her head off while cheering him on.

  Surely eight seconds had to have passed already. The crowd was on its feet, cheering Brady along with her. Hot tears ran down her face as Gracie squeezed her hand and shouted beside her.

  Man against beast and Brady was in control. With the bull’s final twist and a kick, Brady flew off and landed low on his hands and feet, then ran for the fence as men in red and purple shirts corralled the animal into another chute.

  Thunderous applause rose from the stands. Sheila released the breath she hadn’t even known she was holding, along with Gracie’s poor hand—7.88 seconds. It felt more like a minute. She’d worked herself into a frenzy for months over 7.88 seconds.

  She laughed loudly. Truth be told, she had kind of enjoyed watching him ride. Relief, exhilaration and love for Brady coursed through her veins. She was proud of him. She wanted to hang around and watch the rest of the competition, but she didn’t want to risk Brady or anyone else seeing them. Regaining her composure, she resolved it was for the best that no one knew they were there. She and Brady had ended before they’d even really started. She had no right to ask or even want more. As far as she could tell, they’d gone undetected. She wished she had thought enough ahead to buy baseball hats or some other disguise for her and Gracie.

  She nudged her friend’s arm. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  “We’re leaving already? We just got here.”

  “I saw what I came for.”

  * * *

  A 74.5-POINT RIDE was better than Brady had expected for his first time back. It probably wouldn’t win him much of anything, but he was okay with that.

  Shane slapped him on the back. “You did great out there. How do you feel?”

  “Friggin’ amazing.” Brady was giving his friend a hug when he heard Gunner yell, “Fireworks Lady!” He quickly scanned the crowd, catching sight of two women descending the bleacher stairs over Shane’s shoulder. “Is that Sheila and Gracie?” He pointed at them.

  “Holy crap.” Shane tilted back his hat. “I think it is. Well, what do you know? She couldn’t stay away from your first competition. I’d say that means something. What are you waiting for? Catch up to her and celebrate. One of us will drive Gracie back to the ranch.”

  Shane didn’t have to tell Brady twice. If only his body would cooperate—his thighs still quaked from the powerful ride he’d just completed and his fingers fumbled as he unfastened his helmet. Finally, he weaved his way through the competitors waiting to ride behind the bull chutes. But by the time he reached the stands, Sheila and Gracie were out of sight. Alice called out and waved to him, pointing to the exit.

  The Guadalupe County Fair parking lot rivaled the size of the Luna County Fairgrounds where he’d searched for Sheila once before. He ran his hands down his face, not knowing where to begin, when he spotted her car backing out of a parking space.

  “Sheila! Gracie!” he called. They didn’t hear him and were gone within seconds. “No worries. I have a better idea.”

  * * *

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE you’re going to ride all the way to her house,” Thomas said.

  Brady had thought of nothing else since he’d missed catching Sheila last night and had spent the better part of the day working out the logistics of his plan.

  “If I was smart, I’d just give you her number, but Gracie would have my head. I still don’t understand why you don’t borrow a truck and drive over there.”

  “Because I need to do this on my own.” Brady mounted Thomas’s mule, Blue.

  “Then you should walk,” Thomas said. “What’s the difference between borrowing Blue and borrowing a vehicle?”

  “Because you’ll catch hell from your wife for loaning me yours and I don’t feel like involving anyone else in this. Besides, Sheila will appreciate the symbolism.” At least he hoped she would. If she drove the hour and half to Seguin to see him compete, he could manage twelve miles on the back of a mule. “Trust me. I’m sure Sheila will tell Gracie all about it tomorrow and it’ll make sense then. Just make sure Gracie doesn’t call the house tonight. Sheila and I have some catching up to do.”

  “And you’re sure you know how to get there?”

  Brady nodded. “Wish me luck.”

  “Break a leg. Well—on second thought, don’t. Just be careful. You should be there by sunset. Call me when you’re ready to come back and I’ll trailer Blue home. Gracie can’t yell at me for that.”

  “Will do.” Brady made a clicking sound with his mouth and nudged the mule forward with his knees. He waved his hat in the air shouting “yee haw” as he rode down the main ranch road.

  By the time he turned onto Sheila’s street, he and Blue had become the best of friends. He’d never considered owning a mule before, but he rather enjoyed the equine hybrid.

  He spotted Sheila through her kitchen window standing at the sink. He leaned forward and patted Blue’s neck. “There she is. The woman who drove me so crazy, I had to ride you all the way here.”

  He parked his mule outside her window and waved. The sun was just about to dip below the horizon. If it had been any darker, she might not have seen him. After a flurry of activity in the kitchen, Sheila swung open the side door of the hous
e.

  Brady dismounted and attempted to casually lean against Blue as if he were leaning on the hood of a vintage Mustang. It would have worked if Blue hadn’t moved, almost causing him to hit the ground.

  “Is that Thomas’s mule?” Sheila asked, ignoring his stumble.

  “Sure is. He loaned Blue to me so I could come see you.” Brady lengthened the mule’s reins. “I don’t have your phone number, your friends won’t give it to me and I’m not supposed to call you at the hospital. Blue here was my last resort.”

  “Don’t you have a truck? Last I heard you were cleared to drive.”

  “I threw a rod and it’s been in the shop for a week. That’s the beauty of working where you live. You don’t need a vehicle to get to work.”

  “Brady Sawyer, you are certifiably crazy.” She thrust her hands on her hips. “What are you even doing here?”

  “Aw, come on, Sheila. Won’t you admit that just a small part of you is happy to see me?”

  “Okay.” Sheila stepped off her side porch. “A part of me is happy to see you. The other part still wants to strangle you.”

  “Must be a pretty small part considering you saw me compete last night.” Brady removed his hat. “And no, Thomas didn’t tell me. Gunner gave you away. I’m touched by the gesture, but I don’t know why you left without bothering to say hello.”

  “It was just something I had to do.” Sheila wrung her hands, not even attempting to deny it. “Can we leave it at that?”