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“Hi, sweetheart.” She offers me a tremulous smile, and I take her hand as she sits on the bed.
“I’m okay, Mom.” I choke the words out because my mouth is dry.
She pats my hand. “I know, but that doesn’t make what happened any less scary.” Leaning forward, she presses her lips to my forehead and lingers there for a moment. When she pulls back, her eyes are clear with relief. “Let me go find the doctor.”
She rushes out of the room, and I notice my twin brother, Cooper, sitting in a chair next to the window. He sits up and offers me one of those fake smiles. You know, the one where something horrible happened, but they don’t want to be the one to tell you.
“Who died?” I ask.
“There for a second I was worried you had.”
I try to wave him off, but when I lift my left arm, I end up groaning in pain. “I feel like I got run over by a train.”
“Close. You got run over by a bull.”
I nod, wincing when my head throbs. “I remember. How long was I out?”
“Three days.”
Hmmm. Not bad. “Last time it was four. I’m improving.”
Cooper frowns at my poor attempt at a joke.
“Too soon?”
?
??Just a little.” Pushing up from his chair, he walks to the side of my bed. “You gave us one hell of a scare.”
“Not the first time, won’t be the last. What’s the verdict?” I do a quick inventory. Rhett Thomas Allen, three-time world champion bull rider. Check. Nice deep breath. Check. Wiggle my fingers and toes. Check. “When can I get back to work?”
Furrowing his brow, Coop shakes his head. “I’ll never understand why you choose to get on those bulls night after night, knowing one of these days you could end up dead.”
“It’s not your job to understand.”
“Doesn’t matter if it’s my job; you’re my brother.” He looks at me for a moment, stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns toward the door. “Trevor, Adley, and Dad went down for coffee. We’ve had Beau on standby. I’ll let them know you’re awake.”
The solemn look on his face doesn’t sit well with me. I’m not one to worry about what anyone else thinks of my profession, but Coop isn’t just anyone.
“Coop?”
“Yeah?” he replies, looking over his shoulder.
“I’m okay.” I don’t know what else to say. I can’t promise I’ll never get hurt again or that a bull might not someday claim my life, and I won’t apologize for loving my profession.
He nods and walks out.
Blowing out a breath, I look around the room. Flowers and balloons are scattered over the table and windowsill, and there are a few cards propped up on my bedside table. I reach for one, but my arm is too damn sore, and I give up at the same time a man in a crisp, white coat walks into the room, followed by my parents, Coop, Trevor, and my sister, Adley. My oldest brother, Beau, is traveling around the world, but I know he’d get here if I needed him.
The doctor walks toward me and reaches out. It takes longer than I’d like, but I manage to shake his hand.
“Mr. Allen, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Dr. Simpson, and I’ve been in charge of your care since your admission the other night.” With a warm smile, he glances at my family. “We’ve got a lot to talk about, and I need to check you over. Would you like your family to step out or—”
I shake my head. “They’re good. They can stay. I’m just anxious to find out how much damage I caused.”
“Surprisingly, not much. You suffered a grade 3 concussion and lost consciousness. Most patients with a grade 3 concussion don’t stay out as long as you did, but you had quite a bit of swelling in your brain. I watched the video of your accident, and after you were thrown from the bull, you were kicked in the head, which is what I presume caused the swelling. It wasn’t a direct hit, otherwise the injuries would’ve been much different. We did a scan and ran several tests, and everything came back normal, so we were confident you’d wake up once the swelling subsided.”
“Will I have any permanent damage?”
