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At the reception desk, Lexie got directions to Cory’s room. “Don’t plan to stay long,” she was told at the nurses’ station. “He’s on some heavy pain medication. He needs to stay quiet.”
Something in the nurse’s tone deepened Lexie’s fears. She braced herself for the worst as she checked each room number she passed in the long hallway. She’d gone less than halfway when, at the far end, she saw a familiar figure step out of a room and close the door softly behind her—a petite woman with short, strawberry blond hair. It was Rianne.
They recognized each other at the same time. Rianne hurried toward Lexie, distress showing in her expression as she came closer. Stumbling slightly, she flung herself into Lexie’s arms. Lexie could feel her trembling.
“I’m so sorry, Rianne,” she murmured. “Is there anything I can do?”
Rianne shook her head. “I’m just glad you’re here. Cory’s with a friend right now, so I’m having a break, trying to take all this in. Come on down to the waiting area. We can talk there.”
Outside the elevators was a small space with a couch and chairs, vending machines, and a rack of well-worn magazines.
“Where’s Rowdy?” Lexie asked as they settled on the sofa. Her friend was dry-eyed, but the strain of holding back tears showed in her face.
“My mom’s got him. She took him so I could come with Cory, and we could have a little vacation after his ride.” She shook her head. “That’s how I happened to be here. Did you see it, Lexie?”
“I was right there, next to the chutes. It was my bull.”
“Oh, God. First Jack and now this.” Rianne fumbled for Lexie’s hand. Lexie reached out and clasped the tension-knotted fingers.
“How bad is it?” she asked, trying to sound positive. “Cory’s a tough guy. He’s been hurt before and bounced right back.”
Rianne shook her head. “His vest and helmet saved his life. But he’s got three crushed vertebrae in his lower back.” She took a deep, sucking breath, like a drowning person coming up for air. “He . . . can’t move his legs.”
* * *
Cory lay on his back with his head resting on a pillow. The blanket that covered his body concealed a rigid form beneath, like a brace. An IV drip was attached to one hand. A catheter bag hung by a clip on the side of the mattress.
Seated in a folding chair beside the bed, Shane knew better than to look too closely or ask the wrong questions. “That was a pretty good pounding you took tonight,” he said, making a deliberate understatement.
Cory grinned, drifting in and out of lucidity. The n
urse had mentioned that he was on heavy painkillers. “That bull was a pretty rough customer. But it wasn’t his fault. If I hadn’t caught my hand . . .” His voice faded for the space of a long breath. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve been beat up before. I’ll be back on the circuit before you know it—even if I have to patch myself together with duct tape.”
“Sure you will.” Shane forced the words from his mouth and the smile on his face, knowing that both were lies. He hadn’t talked privately with Cory’s wife, but he’d seen the stricken look on her face before she left them. Something was terribly wrong.
“Did anybody tell you that your ride won first place?” he asked, changing the subject. “Eighty-six point two. That’s damn fine riding.”
“Great bucking, too. That bull racked up a good score.”
“Is there anything I can do while you’re laid up?” Shane asked.
“Yeah . . .” Cory was beginning to drift again. “Could you make sure Rianne gets the check? Should be a nice one, and she’ll need it for . . . the baby . . .”
“You bet. I’ll see that she gets it tonight,” Shane said, but he needn’t have spoken. Cory’s eyes had closed. His breathing deepened as he sank into an opioid-induced slumber. Shane rose from the chair and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. He would go back to the rodeo grounds, pick up the check, and drop it off here, with Cory’s wife. That done, he would head back to Tucson and the small guest house he occupied on the Tolman Ranch.
As he walked down the hall toward the elevator, he couldn’t help wondering how Cory and his wife were going to manage. Unless they had a ranch or some other job, rodeo riders tended to live from check to check. Some basic insurance was included with PRCA membership, but it wouldn’t cover everything. And with a new baby and an injured husband needing her, Rianne would have a difficult time working.
It wasn’t his problem, Shane reminded himself. But he couldn’t help worrying. No way did this young family deserve what had happened tonight. But that was the nature of rodeo. People got hurt. One bad wreck, and it could be him, lying broken and useless in a hospital bed somewhere. And he wouldn’t expect any damned sympathy.
* * *
Rianne was close to the breaking point. Lexie sat on the couch with a supporting arm around her friend’s shoulders, letting her talk out her fears.
“I’ve never had to be strong, Lexie. I’ve always assumed that Cory would take care of me and our kids. Now . . .” Her voice shook. “I love him, but what if I can’t deal with this? What if I don’t have what it takes?”
Lexie’s arm tightened around the quivering shoulders. “You don’t have to be strong all at once. All you have to do is get through one day at a time. You’ll find that you’re a lot tougher than you think.”
Did her words carry any meaning, Lexie wondered, or were they just platitudes from books she’d read and movies she’d seen? Having lost her mother in childhood and her father and brother recently, she knew about coping with tragedy—but unlike Rianne, she hadn’t been needed by anyone. It had been Tess, her sober, responsible sister, who’d taken the reins of the ranch and the stewardship of everything on it. And even that would be nothing like taking care of a helpless baby and a crippled husband.
