“Think of it,” Luke went on. “Cameras on hand to capture my first run, my first ride...”
“Your tenth fall,” she cut in. “This kind of recovery doesn’t go in a straight line, Luke. You’re going to have setbacks. Are you sure you want an audience for that?”
“Everybody loves a comeback story. And you know me—I work best with an audience. And a finish line to strive toward.”
Ruby felt her appetite leave the building. She pushed away the salad that had arrived moments earlier. “What do you have in mind for that finish line?”
“An exhibition ride.”
“A ride? On a bull?”
“Well, not the meanest bull around, but one with—”
“Absolutely not.” She started to push her chair away. “How can you even think I’d agree to something so...so...” She couldn’t come up with a word for how reckless and foolhardy an idea this was.
“It’s dramatic, I grant you, but I’ve got to—”
“No, it’s not dramatic. It’s irresponsible. You’ve been seriously hurt. We don’t know the full extent of the nerve damage you’ve suffered, and there’s no set timeline for recovery. All your publicity ideas mean that ride has to be scheduled in advance. How can you make a promise we might not be able to keep? Guarantee you’ll be ready in time? You can’t just cowboy up and grit your teeth past this, Luke.”
“Sure I can. I’ll compensate for whatever I don’t have. You’ll teach me.”
Ruby stood up. “I can’t teach you split-second reactions if you’ve got no sensation.”
“Whoa, lower your voice,” Luke hissed, pulling her back down. “Don’t say that kind of stuff where people can hear you, okay?”
Ruby made herself sit down and look him in the eye. Maybe she could get him to see reason before this doomed stunt went any further. “Don’t say what’s wrong with you? Don’t tell you what you refuse to hear? You expect me to not only stand by and watch you potentially get yourself killed, but you want me to play guest star? Ruby Sheldon, therapist to the late, great Luke Buckton? Because trust me, Luke, that’s what it’ll be. You cannot do this.”
“I can’t just disappear, either.” Luke ran a hand through his hair. “Look, Ruby, I told you how this works. No ride, no pay, no rankings. There are no sick days, no medical leave here. If the fans can’t see me, they’ll forget who I am. That’s why this could be such a great chance. Think about it: this magazine’s paying to watch me heal. What better incentive could a guy get?”
It had to be said. “And what if you don’t heal? Will they want their money back?”
“I’ll heal, Ruby. You know I will. You wouldn’t have signed on if you didn’t think I could do it.”
Ruby hated that there was a grain of truth to that. Luke Buckton had made a career of beating the odds. Part of the shock of his injury came from the fact that before the incident, he’d been able to rise up from spectacular falls and ignore seemingly serious injuries. He’d once wrapped an injured arm in tape and ridden through an event only to have it leaked later that that arm had been broken in two places. If common sense ruled the day, he shouldn’t even be standing up, much less contemplating an all-star comeback.
Luke leaned in. “Look me in the eye right now and tell me it’s impossible. Tell me I don’t stand a chance.”
It was just like Luke to find the one inch of plausibility and stretch it into a mile. It was highly unlikely that he’d make a full, flawless recovery—it was foolish beyond reason to bring the media into it—but she couldn’t sit there and tell him it was impossible, much as she wanted to.
“You stand a very small chance. Minute.”
He leaned back, victorious. “Itty-bitty’s all I need. You know that.”
“But if you push yourself too hard and too fast then you stand a much larger chance of doing yourself serious harm. The you-won’t-get-up-and-walk-away-from-it kind of harm. Luke, I don’t see why you have to do this. And with press watching. It’s not worth the risk.”
“Maybe not to you.”
Ruby scrambled for a way to talk him out of this before his agent came and turned it into a hopeless two-against-one. “Explain it to me, then. Make me understand why it’s worth it to you to risk the rest of your life to get a spread on eight pages of a magazine.”
“Ten,” Luke corrected. And she wasn’t really surprised when he added, “Plus the cover.”
“Still not an explanation.”
Luke leaned on his elbows. “I’ll be twenty-five before you know it. Most guys are glad to make it to thirty and still be in the game. That means I’ve only got a few good years left to make my mark. How I leave sets the whole course from here as to what kind of life I’ll have when I can’t compete anymore—how I’ll be remembered, and what position I’ll be able to hold. Right now, how I left was in the back of an ambulance. I can’t let that stand.”
“But why choose a way back designed to kill you?”
“The whole sport’s designed to kill me, Ruby. There’s no ‘safe’ to be had, and I wouldn’t want it anyway. The opportunities don’t find the cowboy who limps out of the arena. I’ve got to go back in blazing so I can go out on top. I can’t have an ordinary, safe comeback. It’s all or nothing for me, always has been.”
She’d heard talk like this from him before. It was part of who Luke was, what made him so good at riding. What made him able to leave her behind so he could launch his vault to stardom. The blazing comet who knew better than to try and bring the humble little pebble along for the ride.
“It’s why I need you, Ruby.”
The admission caught her breath.
“I can’t trust anyone else to have my back while it’s up against the wall like this,” he went on. “You know me, you know how I work, how to get out of me what needs to come out. I’ve got to do this, and I know part of you understands that.”
Luke was a force of nature when he got like this. He could say the craziest things, but when the drive and passion filled his eyes like they did, you couldn’t help but believe crazy things were possible.
“I know what might happen. I get the risk, believe me. But if I walk away from this, it’ll follow me the rest of my life. It’ll all be ‘what if.’ I can’t live like that. You know I can’t.”
He grabbed her hand, and she let him. The man could mesmerize without even trying. “Look, you don’t owe me anything. I know I broke your heart when I left...and I—”
“Yes, you did,” she felt compelled to interject.
“And I’m sorry for that. I’ve got no right to ask what I’m asking, I get that. But I’m asking anyway. Help me do this. Give me this chance, no matter how crazy you think it is. You don’t even have to say yes today, just listen to Nolan lay it out.”
Every bone in her body, every sensible notion she possessed told her to get up and walk out. To leave Luke Buckton to his egotistical, reckless fate and have no part in what was sure to be a circus if not downright heartbreak.
“Okay.”
His smile lit up the room, but it couldn’t cast out every shadow that lurked in the back of her mind.
Chapter Six
“...And that’s fifteen.” Ruby motioned for Pastor Theo to drop the resistance band he’d been stretching with his right arm. “Do you see how much stronger you’ve gotten?”
“I feel it,” the middle-aged pastor said. “Mostly in how much it hurts the next day.” Ruby began her standard answer, but he cut in, “I know, ice and ibuprofen.”
She handed him a stronger band. “You’ve graduated to a new color. Two more colors and you’ll be swinging a golf club like that fall never happened.”
He grinned. “I was hoping for better than when I fell.”
She laughed. “I can help with strength, but your swing is up to you.” Every other patient
seemed so much easier than Luke these days—she hated to admit it, but the challenges of treating Luke were giving her a new appreciation for all her other work. “Arm circles are next.”
Pastor Theo began moving his arms in ever-widening circles. “This is so much easier—and nicer—than driving half an hour to the medical center twice a week. I told Doc Nelson I’m much more likely to be a good patient with you right under my nose. Or me right under your thumb.” He winced as his shoulder hit a tender spot. “How’s it working out for you, being right here in town?”
“It’s a blessing, that’s for sure. I can be at Mama’s at a moment’s notice if I’m needed.” She guided his hand through the next circle, easing up on the part that stretched his injured tendons.
“And how is your grandfather?”
Ruby sighed. “He has good days and bad days. He misses being out and about.”
“I miss Gus in church. It’s sad not to hear his voice from the choir loft anymore.”
Grandpa’s singing voice was woven through almost every childhood memory Ruby had. The rich baritone still filled the house—maybe with not quite the boom and tone it once had, but no one could sing “How Great Thou Art” like Grandpa. She’d heard the hymn probably thousands of times, and the way Grandpa sang it still gave her goose bumps.
“How much therapy would it take to get Luke Buckton to walk back through the church doors?” Theo raised an eyebrow.
Ruby waved a hand. “Now Pastor, you know I’m not supposed to talk about other patients.”
“I’m not asking for your professional opinion. I wasn’t here then, but I know you two have...shall we say...history. Adele’s asked me to pay him a visit, and I’d like to know if you think he’d let me across his threshold. ’Cause I’d like to invite him across ours.”
“Shoulder squeezes, two sets of fifteen,” Ruby cued, stalling for time to think about how to answer the question of Luke’s clearly lapsed faith. Had he truly lost it? Or just left it behind when he took to the circuit? “I think Luke would let you in, if only because he knew Granny B would ride him if you refused. Whether or not he’d listen, well, that’s anyone’s guess.”
“I feel like he’s at such a precarious point in his life. Who wouldn’t be frightened of having to discover who you are away from the thing that defined you? If I had to suddenly stop being a pastor, I think I’d flounder for a while.”
Flounder. Ruby thought of the fishing trips Grandpa used to take her on, and how the fish would flap frantically when they were pulled from the water to land on the dock. Luke showed a smooth and confident outside, but he was flapping frantically on the inside. Could everyone see that? Or just those close to him?
Was she close to him? She had been, once, but now? She needed to talk through her storm of reactions to that man, and maybe Pastor Theo was a good choice to listen.
“He’s asked me to help him stage a comeback. A magazine has offered to cover his rehab and return to riding. He wants to do it.”
Theo stopped mid-exercise. “Is it possible?”
“Medically speaking, there is a possibility. It’s not probable, but this is Luke Buckton. I don’t think the odds have ever really applied to him. Or, at least, I’m pretty sure he’ll pay no attention to them.”
“Have you decided to help him?” Theo’s tone switched from therapist/patient to pastor/congregant.
“He says he can’t do it without me. I don’t know if that’s how he really feels, or if that’s just what he thinks will persuade me.”
Theo sat back in his chair. “He doesn’t strike me as a man who listens to many people. Will he listen to you?”
“Only if I tell him what he wants to hear.” Ruby closed her file. That was Theo’s last exercise of the session anyway. “If he decides to push things too far—and I’m pretty sure he will, especially with press watching—I don’t know that he’ll listen to me or anyone if I try to rein him in.”
The pastor folded his hands. “I do believe God sometimes places us next to people who need our protection. Even from themselves. It can be a wonderful thing. But it can also hurt if you don’t watch yourself. What does your soul tell you? In your gut, I mean, not the therapist part.”
Ruby thought about it, and then said what had kept coming to mind in the two days since her lunch at Red Boots. “I think I can help him make an effort, or at least try to make sure he doesn’t kill himself in the process. Someone’s got to push back against what that magazine might egg him on to do.”
“Maybe that someone is you.” After a moment, Theo added, “But I have to say, I don’t think Luke is the only one in danger of getting hurt here. I don’t know all the details, but if you were my daughter, I’d want to spare you another heartbreak at that cowboy’s hands.”
“Oh, there’s no danger of that.”
“Really?” Theo challenged. “I’ve usually found love to be a bit messier than that.”
She packed up her equipment. “Not in this case. This is not an instance where I have any plans to get back up on the horse that threw me, Pastor.”
* * *
“Look at you, cowboy.” Luke’s cousin Witt came out from behind the cash register at the Blue Thorn Ranch Store, the retail portion of the ranch’s business where they sold bison meat and other products. “I knew you were back in town, and I figured that massive appetite of yours would bring you in sooner or later.”
“It’s not like we don’t have meat at home,” Luke joked. “But you sure have gussied up the place. I’ve heard all about the new website, not to mention the food truck you have selling bison burgers in Austin. And then there’s the—” he cast a derisive glance over at the section of the store that housed his sister Ellie’s bison yarn goods “—mittens.”
“Hey,” said Witt, “don’t knock the mittens. They were our best selling online product last year.”
Luke picked one up, a little stumped as to why anyone would buy mittens knitted out of bison hair. He’d heard Ellie’s speech about the marvelous qualities of bison yarn—heard it several times over, as a matter of fact—but he still didn’t quite get point.
Then again, could he really judge? Had he done anything to bolster the family business? Gran’s letting him have the guesthouse amounted to taking family charity in his view, so he was doing worse than nothing. All the more reason to get back out there and ride his way into the top championships where the real money was.
“You run the food truck on top of managing the store and website, right?” Witt had expanded the Blue Thorn enterprise to include a bison burger food truck last year. Luke had met the truck’s female chef—now Witt’s fiancée—at Ellie’s wedding. That was the same trip where he got into a fight with Tess. Not a slew of happy memories there.
Witt smiled. “Jana runs the truck. I run the marketing. We just added a second truck, so now I can joke I manage the fleet.”
“Good for you.” Again, more accomplishments from another branch of the family. Maybe coming home had been a bad idea.
“You’ll be here for the wedding, won’t you? October?”
It bugged him that some folks assumed he was staying. That he’d washed up his rodeo career for good when that wasn’t the case at all. “I’ll be out on the tour by then. Or at least following the tour, in training. But sure, I’ll try to make it back.”
Witt shouldn’t have looked so surprised. “Back? You’re going back to it? That soon?”
“Why shouldn’t I?” Luke shot back. “I’m fine. I’m healing faster than anyone expected. Of course I’ll be back...and soon.”
Witt held up his hands. “Hey, hey, no harm no foul. I’m happy for you, man. I’d thought you were...”
“You thought what, exactly?” Luke challenged, feeling heat rise up his spine. The inkling that anyone thought he was finished in the rodeo just made him nuts. “Do you se
e any cane, any crutches? I’m fine. Fine and getting stronger.”
“Okay,” Witt said. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. Jana and I just want you at the wedding, that’s all.”
“I’ll try.” Luke left without picking up the burgers his sister-in-law, Brooke, had asked for. They had enough bison meat at home and he didn’t want to be in there anymore.
Chapter Seven
The shiny vehicle’s door opened and a set of long legs extended out onto the gravel. Ruby took in the full picture almost as quickly as Luke ran his eyes up and down the statuesque brunette. Fancy white jeans tucked into fancy black boots, expertly mussed hair, curves that would stop a stampede. “Well, hello there, Luke Buckton!”
Pro Bull Rider Magazine had said they were sending a journalist, not a spokesmodel. Ruby felt three inches tall and nearly invisible. In ten minutes it would be as if she wasn’t even there.
“You have to be Rachel Hartman,” Luke rose from his chair on the ranch house lawn as if carried by the breeze, all effortless athletic grace. Of course, that was all for show, since they were taking a break from a series of challenging exercises that had had him breaking out in a sweat only ten minutes before. “I thought you were coming tomorrow.”
“I was, but my other assignment ended early and a seat opened up on an Austin flight. Who needs a day at home to do laundry when I can get started on what could be the story of the year?”
“I don’t know if the Gap House is ready for you,” Ruby said as she stood up. “Did you check?” She’d kept her mouth shut about how glad she was the reporter was staying at the little inn in town rather than out here on the ranch. Twenty-four-hour media access had to be a bad thing, even for the likes of Luke.
“First thing I thought of—I’m all set. So there was no reason for me to wait another day. Hope that’s all right. I probably should have called first, but I was on a roll.”
I can just imagine, Ruby thought darkly. She told herself not to judge, but the gorgeous brunette smiling at Luke pressed every one of Ruby’s buttons and there was no help for it.
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