Page 53 of Wild and Wanted

It took him a few seconds to realise she’d stopped, glancing over his shoulder and meeting her eyes. He didn’t say anything, just turned Electra around and plodded back until he was alongside.

‘Stevie?’

Stupid tears misted her eyes as she stared at him. ‘You could have died.’

He wasn’t laughing now as he reached across, sliding his palm onto her cheek. ‘I didn’t. And I’m fine now.’

‘Now,’ she whispered, trying not to imagine him lying battered in the dirt.

‘Hey.’ His thumb drifted across her cheekbone and her eyes fluttered closed. When it brushed over her mouth, she opened them again. ‘I’m fine,’ he reiterated.

He leaned in then, his mouth landing on hers in sweet assurance. It was a tender gesture, so gentle, rising around her like the soft swell of a cymbal, cupping her heart as surely as his hand cupped her cheek.

‘I’m glad you’re fine,’ she whispered when he finally lifted her head. Glad was such a banal expression of her relief but Stevie wasn’t sure she had the right words to properly express the enormity of the feelings tangling in her chest.

Only a song could do that.

He smiled as his hand slid from her cheek. ‘Me too.’

Stevie returned his smile albeit slightly more forced. ‘They fixed you?’

‘Yes.’ He nodded. ‘I have quite a lot of instrumentation in my back and it took time and many sessions with the physio to get full strength and function back in my leg.’

‘How long were you in hospital?’

‘A month initially and then I transferred to an inpatient specialist spinal rehab facility for three months.’

Stevie’s brows knitted together to form a V. ‘Three months? That seems like a long time?’

Clay shook his head. ‘It’s not really. Not when you’re talking spinal or neurological injuries which can take up to two years to achieve any level of meaningful recovery.’

‘Two years?’

‘Uh huh. Even after three months I was only at the point where I was able to be discharged home. It took another six months of physio at the cabin before my leg had fully recovered. Mom and Dad got all the equipment in as well as hiring me a personal physio who lived at the ranch house. I also flew back and forth to LA every month for a few days of inpatient treatment at the rehab facility. It was a full year before I could get back on a horse.’

Despite her horror, Stevie found herself even more impressed by that hair-raising ride he’d taken on Electra. He’d obviously been through hell and back but there’d been no hint of it as he’d brought the filly to heel.

He must have nerves of steel. Or, to coin one of Yolly’s favourite sayings – big, hairy cojones.

‘I can’t believe you’d even want to get back on a horse after that.’

He shook his head. ‘Riding again was the only thing keeping me motivated.’

Of course it was. The man was a cowboy to his bones. And his connection with horses was almost supernatural. Electra standing here placidly while they chatted, a good case in point. Still, she shuddered at what could have been.

‘You were lucky.’

‘Yeah,’ he said, the line of his jaw tightening as he averted his gaze to a point past her shoulder. ‘I guess.’

‘You guess? Clay… you could have died. Or been severely, permanently catastrophically injured.’

‘I know.’ He nodded. ‘I know. I just… I wanted to get back on the circuit.’

Stevie blinked. ‘You did?’

His gaze cut back to her, the incredulity in her voice clearly irritating him as his amber eyes turned cool. ‘Of course I did. I was twenty-seven and the rodeo was my entire life. I could have ridden for another ten years, even longer. I busted my ass to fully recover and get my fitness back while they dangled promises of a contract in front of me, but when push came to shove the doctors said there was too much metal in my back to ride safely at a competitive level, which meant the pro-circuit organisation wouldn’t insure me and no insurance means no competing.’

The bitterness in his voice was so visceral, Stevie could taste it on her tongue. It was obvious he still had a lot of anger over the way his career ended and he was allowed to feel the way he felt but she, for one, was grateful that wiser heads had prevailed over a twenty-seven-year-old thwarted cowboy with a Superman complex.