by Debra Kayn
“Can I trust you to follow my directions?” he asked.
“Yes. Absolutely. Whatever you say.” She shuddered from the relief of knowing she’d be free of this deathtrap.
“Do you have someone who can stay with you?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“I can’t stop you from doing what you want. Two weeks is optimal, but you should be able to compete in ten days.” He bent his head and wrote more on his paper. “You’ll have a headache, but if it gets worse or your eyes start bothering you, I want you to see your doctor. If you start throwing up, come to the emergency room. And if you find you can’t control the panic attacks, I’d advise you to make an appointment with your regular doctor. Understand?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She inhaled a deep breath. “Thank you so much.”
She smoothed her gown and watched the door latch, waiting for the doctor to leave. At the click, she gazed around the room. The faster she got out of this place, the better she’d feel.
“Where are my clothes?”
Cole sat in the chair, one leg propped on his other knee and an irritated expression on his face. “Why?”
“Because I better not have lost my lucky hat, that’s why. I’ll kill Reggie if I don’t have it.” She looked under the bed. Where could it be? Maybe she left it at the arena or Reggie picked it up.
She found her clothes in the closet and glanced over her shoulder. “Can you give me some privacy?”
“No, because you can’t leave.” Cole stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles.
“The heck I am. You heard the doctor.” She carried a plastic bag full of her clothes, her boots, and her chaps to the bed and tossed them on the mattress. Her stomach had settled, but it gurgled again, so she slowed her movement as much as she dared. “This has nothing to do with you being my sponsor. It has everything to do with me wanting out of the hospital. I need to be on a plane tomorrow.”
“The contract states that if you’re injured and don’t follow the required medical attention, I can get out of the contract.” He uncrossed his legs and sat straighter. “The doctor wanted you here for twenty-four hours. You have no one back at your trailer to check on you during the night. That leaves you in my hands.”
“I have Reggie.”
His lip curled in an ugly smile. “Do you? Where is he now?”
“You don’t know him the way I do.”
“I don’t trust him. Hell, I don’t trust you to take care of yourself. You’ve already shown me how little you think of your life by riding bulls in the first place.”
“That’s not true.” She moaned over the little ache in her chest. “Tomorrow, I’ll be with my family. I’ll let Chantilly take care of me.”
“Dammit. You can’t even trust them to come and help you.” He stood up and strode to the window, turning his back to her. “If you leave, you’re going against doctor’s orders. I’m responsible for you, and if you refuse to abide by the contract, you’ve broken the agreement. I’m free, and you’ll have to find someone else to put up with your stubbornness.”
“Bullshit.” She dropped her boots. The room spun, and she reached out to hold on to the bed to keep her balance. “You can’t do that.”
He turned around and stared her in the eyes. “If you’re leaving, you’re damn well going to sign the papers letting me out of the contract.”
Chapter Six
Cole backed Florentine into the curtain. He wouldn’t let her walk away from the hospital when she had no one he trusted to stay with her. He doubted she would follow the doctor’s directions, and she needed someone who could either be a hard-ass or take her to the ER when she fell head first off a horse or a roof or a cliff. It was Turner Grain’s responsibility to provide medical coverage should she get hurt, which meant she was his responsibility. He wouldn’t give her an excuse to take him to court, so he’d stick by the terms of the sponsorship agreement, even if court and settlements seemed like an easier route to freedom.
“I won’t let you screw everything up for me. I’m not breaking the contract.” She blinked, and a tear escaped. “I hate it here. I hate you. I even hate…oh, just go away. I don’t know what you’re doing here anyway.”
She swiped her cheek and lifted her chin. Everything in him softened. The sight of a strong woman, hiding the hurt she so desperately wanted to keep from him, crushed his resolve. He felt like a big bully.
“No one likes to be injured, but you have to tough it out and stay in the hospital. You’d think someone who rides bulls for a living would be able to handle spending the night in the hospital. You even have the room to yourself.” He wanted to brush her hair from her forehead, so he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Listen. If you don’t want to do it for your own good, do it for me. Whatever you think of me, I don’t want to see you hurting.”
“You don’t care.” She cupped her elbows in her hands. “You even took me out and tried to make me like you before you tried to dump me.”
“That wasn’t my intent. Not when I started, at least.” He scuffed the heel of his boot against the floor. “Honestly, Florentine, you confuse the hell out of me.”
She shrugged. “You’re not making this any easier.”
“I agree.”
“Then go. I don’t need to worry about what you’re planning on top of everything else. I can take care of myself.”
“It’s not that easy,” he said. “I can’t leave you alone when you’re hurt.”
A child cried, and an announcement sounded in the hallway. The heavy door muffled the noise—too much. The silence inside the room lay heavy as a bale of hay on his chest. He wasn’t trying to be cruel. It was business. She had no idea it was impossible to support her. He had a daughter to raise, and an example to set. There were consequences to every choice people made. Sarah paid attention to everything. What would his sponsorship show Sarah and every person who stepped foot into Turner Grain or saw a commercial on television?
“All you have to do is stay in the hospital.” He walked over, grabbed a few tissues, and held them out. “It’s for your own good. I don’t want you to hurt yourself further.”
She snatched the Kleenex out of his hand and turned away to wipe her face and blow her nose. “You don’t understand. It’s killing me.”
“What is? Your head? Your shoulder?”
She looked at him, shook her head and visibly swallowed. “I-I don’t like hospitals.”
“Why? You’re going to have to make me understand.”
“Where I come from, there’s one town doctor for everyone. Either you go see him, or he comes to the house when someone is sick or gets hurts. No one goes to the hospital unless they’re dying or something really bad happens.” She blew out her breath.
“Did something bad happen to you?” He lowered his voice. “Is that why you’re scared?”
She shook her head, but it was short and half-hearted and gave away her lie. “No. My mom. She died in a hospital, seventy miles from home. I was seven years old.”
“Aw, darlin’.” Cole cupped her shoulder.
She sucked in a sob. “Then a couple of years ago, my dad came down with ALS.”
“ALS?”
“Have you heard of Lou Gehrig’s disease?” She peeked at him and seemed to wait for confirmation.
“Yeah, there’s no cure.”
She nodded. “I watched my dad waste away. It happened so fast, too fast. He lost the ability to walk, then he couldn’t use his arms, and too soon after that, he wasn’t able to speak. I knew he could hear me, and his eyes—God, his eyes spoke so much about what a struggle he went through. He died eleven months ago.”
“Jesus. I’m sorry.” He grasped her hand and squeezed. She held on to him with a grip that was both fragile and firm.
“I wasn’t home when he died. I never got to say goodbye like my sisters did.” She sniffed.
“Sh.” He twined his fingers between hers, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. He hoped it calmed her even
though touching her made him anything but calm. “I understand. The hospital brings all those bad memories to the surface.”
“Yeah.” She held on to his hand as if he were her lifeline. “Don’t tell anyone. Please.”
He frowned. “You’re human. This is all understandable.”
“I’m serious. Not one word, to anyone. The press will tear me apart. They’re looking for anything to prove how different I am from the male riders, and when I make it to the PBRA, I don’t want any bad press behind my name. I want to be strong, just like the men.” She let go of him and straightened her shoulders.
“I promise I won’t say a word, but you have to remember everyone knows you were hurt. You can’t hide that fact, and despite everything, the responsibility for you lies on my shoulders. Don’t ask me to forget that you’re under doctor’s orders to rest. It’s impossible for me to…” He lost his train of thought when she bit her bottom lip and her eyes widened.
“What’s impossible?” Her voice had gone soft and unsure.
Uncertainty grabbed him by the balls. He paced the room, looking for the words to convey his frustration. The entire situation was impossible, but when she cocked her head, waiting for the answer, he blurted, “You!”
He stepped back and moved as far away as the walls would allow. Wasn’t his sole purpose to talk her into letting him out of the contract?
If he was smart, he’d walk out of here and never have to deal with Florentine McDougal again. He’d make it to the Double R before the sun came up. He stopped in front of the door. Without the cost of sponsoring her, he could build the extra stable and open another grain elevator before the summer ended. Assuming she didn’t sue him eight ways to Montana.
“Oh—”
Cole turned around and found Florentine retching in the wastebasket. He helped her to the bathroom. While she leaned over the toilet, he grabbed one of the washcloths on the shelf above the sink and ran it under the cold water from the faucet. She stood over the toilet, her hands planted against the wall and her body shaking. He couldn’t leave her in this condition.
“Here you go.” He placed the cold cloth on her forehead. “Take it easy, and don’t straighten up too fast.”
She could barely stand. Her legs shook, and she trembled under his hands. He held her around the waist and gathered the loose strands of her hair in his other hand. When she tried to back up, she stumbled. He swooped her into his arms and carried her out of the bathroom.
“That’s it. You’re going to be okay. It’s probably time for your medicine.” He sat her on the bed. “Hold still. I’ll go get the nurse—”
“Cole.” She gazed up at him. Tears coursed down her pale cheeks. He sat beside her and sighed. Dammit. He was making it worse on her by making her stay here. She didn’t need the added stress.
He glanced down, and his resolve softened. She was worn out. “Look, how about I stay with you tonight, and tomorrow I’ll fly you to your family ranch? That way I know someone is taking care of you. You can’t go alone in your condition. But I need you to promise me when you get home, you tell your family about your injuries.”
“I’ll be okay—”
“No, you either let me take care of you, or you let me out of the contract,” he said.
She stifled a yawn and tried to glare at him. “Fine.”
“Good.” He sighed. “Another thing…my daughter will be with us. I don’t want you talking about being a bull rider or mentioning any other kind of risky behavior around her. She’s impressionable, and I’d rather keep her away from anything having to do with the rodeo. Can you do that?”
“This is ridiculous.” She closed her eyes, and her shoulders drooped.
“Do you want to go home?”
“Fine, fine,” she mumbled, her chin sinking closer to her chest.
Practically falling asleep while sitting, she leaned toward him and propped herself against his arm. Her breathing finally sounded normal. He tried to shift and lay her down on the pillow, but she had a hold of his shirt and wouldn’t let go. Even in her sleep, she fought against staying in the hospital. Aw, hell.
He swept her into his arms and carried her out of the room. He’d deal with the consequences tomorrow.
“Excuse me? Susan?” He stood in front of the nurses’ station.
The nurse stood up, frowning. “What are you doing with her out here?”
“I need her discharge papers, her prescriptions, and—” He glanced down at Florentine, still clinging to his shirt. “—could you bag up her clothes for me? Make sure you get her hat, too. It’s important.” Cole caught himself swaying side to side, like he was rocking the big, bad bull rider, and stopped. “If you could hurry, I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure. Give me a few minutes.” Susan hesitated. “Is she okay?”
“She will be. Thank you.”
Alone in the hallway, he walked to the window. Florentine slept in his arms, finally relaxed enough to stop fighting him. He rubbed her arm. She needed someone to look out for her.
The red and white lights of an ambulance pulled up outside. He thought of Florentine being a small child, watching her mom die, and then having to deal with a devastating disease taking her father from her. He didn’t want to be another person who left her when she needed someone.
If something happened to him, he would hope someone would help Sarah if she needed anything. Crap. Sarah.
She was coming here in the morning. He’d have to wake his dad up and let him know plans had changed. It looked like they were going to Pike, Montana. They would need enough clothes for at least a week.
He’d take care of Florentine, use the time to convince her to let him out of the contract, and end this mess. Besides, the contract stated that if she failed to perform sixteen rides this season, he could pull his sponsorship. She’d missed two early rides because of a wrist injury. If she wasn’t well enough to ride in ten days, he’d be able to walk away guilt free. Florentine’s fingers slid between the buttons of his shirt and touched bare skin. He groaned. I hope I’m not making a big mistake.
Chapter Seven
The bed rocked. Florentine opened her eyes and lifted her head off the pillow to see the plain blue curtains covering the window over her bed and sun shining through the crack between the panels. Pain consumed her left side, from her ear down to her elbow. She grabbed her pillow and hugged it to her stomach. She was home in her travel trailer. That’s all that mattered. Injuries would eventually heal.
The trailer swayed again, and she rubbed her face. Either the pain medication made her woozy or someone had broken into her trailer. She tossed the pillow to the side. Cole.
She stood, holding on to the wall for support, and slid open the door of her small bedroom. Cole had taken her home from the hospital last night, but he should’ve left by now. She dragged her feet to the kitchenette. Fifteen feet seemed like a mile when heavy dubstep thrummed inside her head.
Cole rose from the couch. She stopped and leaned against the mini refrigerator. She glanced at the closed beige curtains behind him and frowned.
“What time is it?” She tugged on her hospital gown, making sure her front remained covered.
Cole lifted his arm, checked his watch, and sat back down. “Almost eleven o’clock. I thought you needed your sleep, but I made sure I roused you every four hours. You grumbled each time, so that’s a good sign.”
“I need to get cleaned up and dressed. My flight leaves at two o’clock.” She stifled a groan and forced her muscles to work. “Do you have the medicine the doctor gave me?”
He nodded. “I sat you on the side of the bed at nine o’clock and gave you some Motrin. You can’t take one for another two hours.”
The water pump clicked on, and the whoosh of the toilet sounded behind her. When she turned around, a small child of maybe six or seven hurried out of the bathroom, pulled to a stop, and stared up with her mouth forming an impressive O. Florentine stepped back and slammed her hip against the counter.
“Who are you?” She rubbed her side and offered the best smile she could manage at the moment.
The slim girl pushed her strawberry blonde hair out of her eyes. “Sarah.”
Right. Cole’s daughter. She remembered him saying he had a child. “It’s nice to meet you, Sarah. I’m Florentine.”
Cole cleared his throat. She half turned, catching a grin on his face. His eyes zeroed in on her midsection. She glanced down, and by the time she grasped that she had flashed her bare butt at him, Sarah erupted in giggles behind her. She reached back and clasped the edges of her gown together.
“I’m gonna take a shower.” She sidestepped past Sarah and disappeared into the bathroom.
Behind closed doors, she avoided looking in the mirror. If she appeared half as bad as she felt, she’d probably scared Sarah to death. She hit the pump switch and turned on the shower. She dropped her gown and stepped under the weak stream of water, knowing the small tank drained fast and left a whole lot of cold.
Several minutes later, she shook hard from the chilly water, and the throbbing bass in her head sounded more like how she imagined a rave might. Thankfully, she had a stack of extra-long towels under the sink, so she knew she wouldn’t flash Cole and his daughter. Without glancing at her visitors, she hurried into her room and shut the door.
She found clean clothes and dressed. Changing left her out of breath, so she sat down on the edge of the bed to pull on her socks. A nap sounded good, but if she planned to make it to the airport, she had no time to waste.
Foregoing makeup, she grabbed her comb off the bathroom counter and walked into the main part of the trailer. She ignored Cole, who stood up again, setting the trailer to rocking.
“Sarah. Would you do me a huge favor?” She sat down on the couch.
Sarah jumped up from her chair. “Uh huh.”
“Do you think you can comb my hair?”
“I don’t know.” Her eyes widened. “I can brush my own hair.”
