“Ali!” He pushed his way to her side and grabbed her hand. “Ali, I’m here.” He moved in time with the paramedics, walking beside her toward the ambulance.
She mumbled something and pushed the oxygen away from her face. “Cody…” She was pasty gray, her breathing tight and shallow, the way it had been at her ranch that day. “I’m fine…” Her words were breathy and weak, barely understandable. “Don’t… don’t worry about me.”
“I’m sorry.” His heart screamed within him, pounding out a fast and terrible rhythm. Don’t let her die. Please… Why had he gotten her so upset? They were at the ambulance door now; he had only seconds. “I didn’t mean it, okay?”
“It’s not your fault.” She blinked and the movement was slow and fading. “Go ride.”
It wasn’t his fault? Even now she was thinking of him, reading his mind. Of course it was his fault. He’d gotten her upset; he’d let her walk away coughing when he could’ve helped her. Whatever happened, he was completely responsible.
Ali’s mother ran up. She spoke to the paramedic, and Cody distantly heard him grant her permission to go along for the ride. He shot a look at the other medic, the one closest to him. “Take me, too. She needs me.”
“Her mother’s going.” He lifted the stretcher and slid it into the back of the ambulance. “Only next of kin is allowed; I’m sorry.”
“Is she okay?”
The man looked at his partner and then at Ali. “She needs to be seen, but she’s stable.”
Cody felt himself catch a full breath. “Okay.” He met Ali’s eyes. “I’ll be right behind you. I’m leaving now.”
The technician wanted to put the oxygen over her face again, but Ali turned away. “No, Cody. Stay…” Sweat drops dotted her face, and the skin around her mouth was still blue. “Ride… you can come later. I’ll… be fine.” Her eyes locked on his, and despite the commotion and crowd and frenzied attempts to help her, everything faded away. Everything but her. “I love you, Cody.”
Her words were too soft to hear, but he heard them all the same. Heard them to the core of his being. He took a step back, his eyes still on hers. “I love you, too.”
Someone closed the ambulance doors and the driver gave three short bursts with the siren, clearing a path through the crowd. And then she was gone. She and her mother, leaving him alone on a patch of dusty rodeo ground, his head spinning. What city were they in, anyway? And what was the name of the hospital? How could he find her if he didn’t know where she was?
A bull rider came up beside him and put an arm around him. “They’ll take care of her, Cody. Probably just the heat.”
The heat? He stared at the guy and opened his mouth to explain that it wasn’t the heat; it was her CF. But then he remembered. No one knew, not one of them. Ali looked as healthy as ever. Why would anyone think she was dying of a fatal lung disease? He’d promised Ali he would keep her secret, and even now he wouldn’t betray her.
The rider was waiting, but Cody only gave him a quick slap on his shoulder. “Thanks, man. You’re right.”
Cody didn’t know what to do. He started in one direction, stopped and turned around, and stopped again. Why was he at the arena when Ali needed him? He had to find his way to her. The other barrel racers were finishing up now, and the announcer explained that Ali had been taken in for a check.
“Bull riders should report at the judge’s table,” he said. “That’s right, folks, hold on to your hats. We’ve got the best bull riders on the tour about to take a seat on the rankest bulls around.”
Cody had a great draw for the final go-round of the day, and he was third to ride. What was it Ali had told him? Ride first, then come see her, wasn’t that it? He paced to the far chain-link fence, grabbed it and stared at the highway beyond. Someone would know where they’d taken her, maybe someone at the announcer’s booth.
Riders talked about the adrenaline rush of getting on a bull.
It was nothing to the way he felt now, stomach aching, limbs on fire, head spinning. Please…
He clenched his fist and drove it into the fence. Fine. If she wanted him to ride, he’d ride. What would eight seconds matter? The paramedic said she was steady, right? He could ride and he’d still be fifteen minutes behind the ambulance. The moment he was finished he’d find out where she was and take her truck. It was unhooked from their trailer; the keys on the floorboard where she always kept them.
In a burst, he turned and jogged toward the chutes. He wasn’t stretched out, but that didn’t matter. He’d never been more focused in his life. He would ride for Ali, because she wanted him to. After all he’d done wrong that day, the least he could do was turn in a winning performance. He was halfway there when his mother stepped out from the crowd and blocked his path.
“Cody…” Fear colored her eyes. “Is she all right?”
A part of him wanted to cry at the sight of her, run to her arms and let her rock away the hurt the way she’d done when he was a little boy. But in the war that was their family existence, she’d chosen sides. He stopped only long enough to nod his head. “She’s fine.”
He started to move again, but she took hold of his arm. “Let me help, Cody. I’ll take you to her.”
“No!” He hissed the word. “I can get there myself.”
Then he turned and stormed to the area behind the chutes. He grabbed his rope and slipped on his vest. By the time he reached the pen and climbed up the fence, it was his turn. He climbed in, steadied himself over the bull, and dropped onto the beast’s back, shoving his mouth guard in place. The animal snorted, pawing the ground. “Not today, mister.”
Three cowboys sat on the fence around him, holding on to his vest. Cody wrapped his hand in record time, grabbed the chute with his free hand, and nodded. The ride was wild, twisting him in tight circles and sending him airborne on top of the bull, his arm straight up, legs in perfect position. The bull snorted and Cody felt the spray against his face, smelled the animal’s fury.
Not today, bull. Not this cowboy. Cody kept his eyes on the bull’s shoulders. Nothing was going to happen to Ali, nothing.
The ride was crazy, more intense than any Cody could remember. Adrenaline filled him, flooding his senses until there was only Cody and the bull, Cody and the ride. Eight seconds passed in a blur, and when the buzzer sounded, Cody jumped off and headed straight for the gates.
He was halfway to Ali’s truck when he heard the announcer shout, “Cody Gunner gets a ninety-three, folks; you can live a long time and never see a bull ride like that one! Let’s hear it for…”
Cody tuned it out.
He climbed into Ali’s truck and used her cell phone to call information. There was one hospital in town. Cody phoned for directions as he drove through the parking lot toward the exit. Ten minutes later he walked into the emergency room and spotted her mother.
“How is she?” He was still dirty from the ride. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s okay, Cody. They’re giving her oxygen.” Her mother squeezed his hand. “Dr. Cleary told her it would get like this.”
“But they can make her better, right, get her well again?” He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe until he knew she was going to be all right.
“Yes. She’ll have to stay in the hospital awhile. Four days, maybe.” Ali’s mother looked tired. “How’d you ride?”
The matter was so small compared to Ali’s health. “Ninety-three.” He looked past her, toward the double doors that led to the hospital rooms. “Can I see her?”
Her mother hesitated. “The doctor said only—”
“Ma’am, please.” He looked at her again.
She gave a nervous glance at the receptionist’s desk. “Okay.” She motioned to him. “Stay with me.”
They went back and found her in the third room on the right. She was by herself, hooked up to an intravenous bag and oxygen. As soon as he saw her, he felt himself relax. Her color was back. Her mother was right; she was going to get through this
. One more time, one more chance.
“Hey, you.” He moved to her side.
She looked tired, but she found a smile for him. “Did you stay on?”
“Yeah.” He stroked her hair, searched her eyes. “What happened back there?”
“I couldn’t get a breath.” The weariness lifted. “Did you hear? I set a record!”
“I heard.” He bent down and kissed her cheek. He didn’t want to talk about their events. “You couldn’t breathe? You mean after the race, after holding your breath?”
“Right.” She closed her eyes and opened them, more slowly than before. “I’m okay, Cody. They gave me something; I can breathe now.”
“It’s because you were upset.” He ran his fingertips along her brow. “I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have gotten mad.”
“No.” She swallowed and cleared her throat. “It was the humidity, Cody. Really.”
She was wrong, but he wasn’t going to push. No sense upsetting her further. “You can breathe okay now?”
“Yes.” She put her hand over his. “I’m fine, Cody. Just another tune-up.” Concern flashed in her eyes. “You have another ride tonight.”
“I can turn out; I don’t need this event.”
“Cody Gunner!” She placed her hand over his. “You’ve never turned out in your life.” She looked at her mother, standing a few feet away. “Tell him, Mama. He can’t help me sitting here in a hospital room.”
Mrs. Daniels came a step closer. “She’s right; go ride, Cody.”
“I don’t need to.” He wouldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Yes, you do.” She closed her eyes, too tired to keep them open. “Go win it.”
They talked a few more minutes, until she convinced him she was feeling good, that all she really wanted was a nap. It wasn’t until he reached the arena and reported in, that he got the news.
News that made his heart turn somersaults in his chest.
Chapter Sixteen
Night rides always involved the rankest stock, the toughest bulls. It was that way on purpose, designed to bring in the higher-paying crowds and give them a better show. When Cody returned to the arena he got the news he’d been waiting for since he earned his pro card. The bull he’d drawn was none other than the legend, the meanest bull on the tour, a bull so violent and crazed, his owners competed him as often as possible, making a killing off him.
The bull was Chaos.
Of the twenty-three times he’d been ridden in the past two years, Chaos had bucked off twenty-three riders. But that wasn’t all. The bull wielded his horns like weapons. In his wake were a trail of broken ribs, concussions, and a spinal injury. On the Pro Rodeo Tour no greater challenge existed than the challenge of riding Chaos. Before Ali, Cody would’ve paid a year’s winnings for a chance on this bull. Just one chance.
But now…
Now he carried something inside him that would give Ali another three years. He didn’t care if Chaos hurt him; that was part of bull riding. But what if the bull jabbed him in the ribs, what if he punctured his lung, Ali’s lung?
His mind reeled.
Should he take the draw, maybe pull off the ride of his life? If he did, it would be the pinnacle of his career, no matter how long he rode. Riding Chaos would guarantee him a win and put him in position to coast into the finals. He paced up and down the alley behind the chutes. Every few minutes he stopped to stretch, thinking about the possibilities.
The smell of burned popcorn and greasy corn dogs filled the air and mixed with the scent of livestock. What should he do? How much of a risk was he willing to take? He refused to scan the stands, afraid his mother was still there. If she was, Carl Joseph would see him this time, and then he’d have no choice but to deal with her, as well. Not that he expected her to come looking. He wasn’t even sure she was still there. He didn’t care. The only thing on his mind was the wild bull ride ahead, his chance at making history.
And the damage it could do to him if he didn’t.
Cody was slated to ride last, and the situation was clear to everyone. Stay eight on Chaos and he’d be first not only at this event, but in the standings. First with no one close behind him.
Still… he couldn’t get Ali out of his mind. He wore a path behind the chutes, stretching and trying to convince himself it would be okay. Ali would want him to ride, to take his shot at the bull no one could beat. But as he climbed the fence and stared in at the bull, he shuddered.
He already knew what would happen. The bull would fly through the air, bucking him onto the ground and coming back to finish him off. Chaos wasn’t content with sending cowboys to the ground; he wanted to kill them. Before Ali, that would’ve been fine. Let the beast try. He’d ridden unridable bulls before.
But what if he did get hurt? What if he had a wreck that damaged his lungs?
He could risk his own life, but not Ali’s.
And with that he made his decision. Cody hopped down behind the chutes and headed for the judges’ table.
“Gunner, what’re you doing?” one of the cowboys shouted after him. “Your ride’s up in a few minutes.”
Cody didn’t stop. He reached the table and stood in front of the oldest judge in the business, a veteran, pure class and character.
“Cody Gunner?” He gave Cody a curious frown. “You need to be in the chute, young man. How can I help you?”
“I’m turning out, sir.” He grabbed his number off the back of his vest and thrust it onto the table. “I can’t ride tonight.”
“But that’s the best draw of the—”
“Thank you, sir.”
He didn’t say another word until he was at Ali’s side.
“I can’t believe you turned out.” She held his hand and smiled at him. “Everyone’s going to think you’ve lost your edge.”
“I don’t care.” He leaned down and kissed her lips, slow and tender. “As long as I don’t lose you.” He brushed his nose against hers and drew back a little.
“You won’t, Cody. I’m fine.”
“Right.” He bit his lip. He didn’t tell her why he turned out; left her thinking it was his deal, that he couldn’t get focused with her in the hospital. He couldn’t tell her he wanted to keep his lungs safe. It was better if she didn’t know, less upsetting to her.
They talked about the standings, and after a while, her mother came in from the cafeteria. “Your father says hello. He’ll call you in the morning.”
“Thanks, Mama.” Ali gave her a lopsided smile.
They made small talk for half an hour before the doctor came in, a clipboard in his hands, his face dark.
Cody sat on one side of the bed, Ali’s mother on the other. He wanted to tell the doctor to leave; they were doing fine without anything else to think about.
“Hello.” Mrs. Daniels spoke first. “Have you talked to Dr. Cleary?”
“Yes.” The man came to the foot of her mattress and touched her toes. “Hi, Ali. You doing okay?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She was breathing easier, but she looked exhausted.
The doctor shifted his look to Ali’s mother again. “I ran the test results by Ali’s doctor, and, well… the news isn’t good.”
Cody steeled himself. Hadn’t he known this was coming? No matter what Ali said about this being another tune-up, they all knew she was getting worse. The coughing, the extra medication, the frantic times when she couldn’t breathe. The signs were there for all of them.
“Her functions are bad, right?” Ali’s mother took hold of Ali’s forearm. “I can tell.”
“It’s more than her function tests, Mrs. Daniels.” The doctor released a heavy breath. “Her lungs are shutting down. She’s finished barrel racing.”
Ali reached for Cody’s hand. She closed her eyes, squeezing his fingers. He wanted to cover her ears, shelter her with his body. Anything to erase what the man had said. This was the day she’d dreaded all her life. She wasn’t being given a warning; it was more of a pronouncement.
N
o more barrel racing. Not ever.
Cody could only imagine the heartache exploding through her, because his heart was breaking, too. She was finished racing? Done with the dream she’d chased since she was eleven? Never again would she race around the barrels, faster than every other rider. She and Ace were finished, finished with the Pro Rodeo Tour, finished traveling around the country, finished climbing the leaderboard.
Ali Daniels would be remembered for blazing onto the barrel-racing scene and staying in the top handful of riders the whole time she competed. But her promise would never be fulfilled; there would be no national championship.
He let his head fall against her hand, willing some of his strength into her. The doctor was going on, saying something about recuperating and using the next few months to get stronger. Then he said something that made Cody sit straight up.
“Dr. Cleary tells me you’re planning a lung transplant in December.” The man’s face was stern, tense.
“Yes.” Ali’s mother continued to be the spokesperson for the three of them. She hesitated and looked his way. “Cody’s one of the donors. Her father’s the other.”
“That’s what I need to talk to you about.” The doctor opened the file he was holding. “We rescheduled the transplant for June. Dr. Cleary believes that’s as long as we can wait. After consulting with our specialists, I have to agree.” He read the file. “Ali would stay a few more days here, and then return home. We’d like her to gain some strength over the next eight weeks, so that she’s in the best possible shape for the transplant.”
June? Cody froze for a moment, but there was no hesitation. June was perfect. The sooner the better. That made his decision about the season an easy one.
Ali opened her eyes and the three of them stayed silent, the news suffocating them like a desert dust cloud.
“Doctor”—Ali’s mother sounded drained, resigned—“could you give us some time to talk?”
“Yes, certainly.” He looked from Ali’s mother to Ali and finally to Cody. “I wish I could give you some options, but there are none. This is the only plan left.”
As soon as the doctor was gone, Ali turned to him. “You don’t have to do it, Cody. Someone else could give me a lung; I’m still on the donor list and my case will be more urgent now. June is the worst time for—”
A Thousand Tomorrows / Just Beyond the Clouds Page 14
