Corralled (32 page)

“Thank you, Marion, for all your help. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, a ride to the hospital would be appreciated.”

“No trouble at all. My car is close and I’ll get you there in a jiffy.”

Marion didn’t chatter beyond asking the basics. Lainie was grateful for the buffer between her and Kyle. It would’ve been hell on her nerves to rehash the accident— as she knew Kyle was apt to do.

At the emergency entrance, Lainie thanked Marion profusely, which Marion waved off with the typical ranch woman’s response,

“I was glad to help.”

The place wasn’t bustling like most big- city hospitals. Lainie wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign or a bad sign. The nurse behind the desk took one look at Kyle cradling his arm and inquired, “Broken bone?”

“No. We ain’t here about this. Has Hank Lawson, the bullfighter injured at the rodeo arena, been checked in yet? He came by ambulance.”

Her eyes turned sharp and businesslike. “Who are you?”

“We’re his family.”

“He’s waiting for the doctor. If you want to have a seat, I’ll let his nurse know you’re here.”

“Is he all right?” Lainie blurted, even when she knew they wouldn’t tell her a damn thing.

“I’m sorry, I can’t give you that information. Like I said, the waiting room is right over there.”

LORELEI JAMES 9

“Thanks.” Lainie gave her name and Kyle’s name and stood by the desk, trying to see down the hallway.

“Come on,” Kyle said, tugging her away with his left hand.

After they sat, she faced him and pointed at his arm. “Did the medics check that out?”

“They weren’t concerned about me at all.” At Lainie’s stark expression, he squeezed her hand. “I meant—”

“I know what you meant. You should get that looked at.”

“So do it. Ain’t like you’re doin’ nothin’ else right now.”

“You are such a pain in the ass sometimes.” But Kyle knew how to keep her mind occupied. “Where’s it hurt?”

“The better question is, Where don’t it hurt?” he quipped. “If I woulda measured it before the ride and now after, I’d bet money I gained a good two inches of length.”

She gently moved his thumb back and forth. “Excessive pain here?”

“Nope. Mostly above where the wrist brace ended.”

“Issues with the shoulder socket? Feel like the muscles are torn? Did anything pop?”

“Not that I recall. I was trying to keep fluid so the bull didn’t rip my arm clean off.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t.” She poked a couple more spots and was satisfied when he didn’t react with pain. “My advice is—”

“Rest, ligament cream, and ibuprofen every four hours,” they finished in unison.

Lainie muttered, “A smart- ass as well as a pain in the ass.”

“This ain’t my first rodeo, sugar. I’ve heard that advice a time or twenty.”

Silence floated between them as the minutes ticked by.

“Hank saved my life.”

“I know.”

“I was so tired from trying to break free that falling in the dirt

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and letting that motherfucker stomp me didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Now Hank is in there, God knows how bad—”

“Lainie Capshaw. Please come to the front desk.”

Her heart pounded. Fear lodged in her throat. Dread lodged in her gut, making the trip to the front desk excruciatingly long. At the kiosk she choked out, “I’m Lainie Capshaw,” to the young female nurse who’d paged her.

“Please come with me,” she said brusquely.

“What’s going on?”

The nurse, who was three inches shorter than Lainie’s five foot four, stopped abruptly. “Mr. Lawson is refusing any treatment until he speaks to you.”

“Hank’s awake?”

“Awake and unreasonable. Maybe you can talk some sense into the man, since he demands to see you.” Her ponytail bobbed as Lainie trailed behind her down the corridor. She motioned for Lainie to wait.

A privacy sheet separated the exam areas. The nurse snapped,

“Mr. Lawson. Lie down. Right now. If I see you sitting up again, I’ll restrain you.”

“Try it,” Hank snarled.

Lainie ripped the privacy sheet back so fast the metal hangers sounded like a zipper.

Oh, God. There he was. Pissed off. Wearing a flimsy hospital gown, the front open to reveal his chest. A sheet twisted around his lower half. His bare feet dangled off the side of the hospital bed, giving him a childlike vulnerability. Her gaze landed on his chest.

The bruised sternum stood out in stark misery.

She slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out.

She felt Hank’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t tear her focus away from his injury.

“Lainie. Baby. Look at me.”

LORELEI JAMES 9

Her tears fell unchecked.

“Look at me. Only in my eyes.”

Somehow she lifted her gaze to his face.

“That’s it. Just look in my eyes. Let me prove to you I’m okay.”

“I thought—”

“I know what you thought, and I’ve been goin’ crazy trying to convince them to let you in here to see me. Come here.”

Lainie wanted to move, but her feet failed her.

Hank’s eyes darkened with fear. “Please. I think they’re gonna drug me up, but I’ve gotta make sure you’re okay before they do.”

He held out his hand to her. “Come here.”

She shuffled four steps and reached for his fingers. More tears spilled down her cheeks. She let her gaze drop to his chest again and whispered, “Costochondritis.”

“You know how I love it when you use medical sweet talkin’ on me, darlin’.”

Although she barely grazed his skin with her fingertips, she felt the heat and the swelling. “Does it hurt?”

“Some.”

Any admission of pain from Hank meant it was probably excruciating. “Why wouldn’t you let them give you a painkiller?”

“Because you needed to see me awake and alert. Able to talk to you. Able to reassure you I was fine, not passed out cold, lying on some goddamn gurney. I’d never do that to you, Lainie. Never, ever. Not if I can help it.”

Oh, sweet baby Jesus. The man was in a hospital bed and his first concern had been for her, not for himself.
For her
. He’d worried that after what she’d seen in the arena, she’d draw parallels between his accident and her father’s.

Hadn’t you?

“Talk to me,” he said softly.

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As much as she wanted to burst out with her deepest feelings of love for him, she’d do it at a different time and place. A time when he’d know for sure that she’d spilled her guts out of love, not out of fear.

Her shaking fingertips traced the flattened line of his mouth.

He was gritting his teeth so hard his lips had all but disappeared.

“Now that you’ve calmed my fears, will you please let them give you relief from this goddamn ugly rodeo tattoo?”

“Yeah.” His face was pinched with agony when he tried to swing his legs back up on the bed by himself. “Fuck.”

“Let me help you or I’ll call your devoted nurse back.”

“You’ve got a big mean streak for such a small thing.” He grunted. But he allowed her to help him.

As soon as he was situated, Lainie pushed the damp hair back from his hot forehead. He practically purred. She touched him, reassuring them both.

Lainie didn’t budge when the curtain was jerked back. She shot a glance at the woman wearing a white coat, not scrubs. She clutched a clipboard and scanned it before addressing them.

“I’m Dr. Tortor, T-o- r-t- o- r, not Dr. Torture, as some patients have been known to call me.” No smile. “So, you fight bulls for a living? Seems this one fought back.”

“It happens.”

“How do you feel?”

“Lousy.”

“No surprise.” She examined him thoroughly, then said, “A horn to the chest resulting in a bruised sternum. The medical term is costochondritis.”

Hank gaped at Lainie.

“The CT scan came back with no brain swelling. Although, after being knocked unconscious for seven minutes, you’ve suffered a concussion. I’d like to keep you overnight for observation.”

LORELEI JAMES 9

“No. Way.” Hank focused distressed eyes on Lainie. “Why can’t you take care of me? You’re a licensed nurse and an EMT.”

Dr. Tortor faced her. “Is that true?”

“I’m a sports med tech.”

“You see injuries like this frequently?”

“Yes, but I defer course of treatment to those with more medical training.”

“That’d be me, and a stay overnight is what this doctor orders.”

Hank groaned.

“We’ll get the pain meds started and move you into a regular room.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” Lainie said.

“And no bullfighting for a minimum of one week. I know you won’t stay out of the ring for my recommendation of one month.”

The doctor pressed the call button for the nurse. They conferred outside the curtain. Rather than eavesdrop, Lainie mapped the planes and hollows of Hank’s face with her fingertips. She bent to kiss his mouth softly, then nuzzled his ear. Thank God. He was here, whole and wholly hers.

“Lainie? Stay with me until the drugs take effect. Please.”

Hank’s low, scratchy voice pulled at her, as did his hidden pride and the need he so rarely shared. She smooched his lips again.

“Like I could leave you alone with Dr. Hottie, who, incidentally, was checking out all your nekkid body parts hanging out of this ass- baring gown.”

A small smile. “All my nekkid body parts belong to you, baby.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

After Hank received the meds, he conked out. She rode the elevator with him to his room, chatting with the orderly as he maneuvered the gurney. She’d never worked in a hospital, except for

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dropping patients off in the ER, and sometimes she wondered if she was missing out on an aspect of her medical training.

It wasn’t until her cell phone buzzed with a text message from Kyle that she realized she’d forgotten him completely. Shame heated her face.

She stepped into the hallway to call him, but he didn’t answer his phone. Not that she blamed him.

$IBQUFS5XFOUZPOF

9

#
reck was sprawled in a lawn chair outside his horse trailer when Kyle ambled up. “Hey, Kyle. You look like you could use a beer.” Breck gestured to the blue cooler. “Help yourself, and pull up a chair.”

“Thanks.” Kyle opened an icy can of Bud Light and sat on the picnic table bench seat. He sighed. “I needed that.”

“I imagine so. What’s up with Hank? He okay?”

“Concussion. Bruised sternum. They’re keeping him overnight.”

“He’s damn lucky.” Breck leaned over and toasted Kyle. “Then again, so are you.”

“Don’t I know it. Crazy man saved my life.”

Breck shrugged. “I ain’t bein’ a dick when I say it’s his job and what he signed on for.”

Kyle chose not to respond concerning what he saw as the differences between what most bullfighters did and what Hank had done.

“What’s the diagnosis on your ridin’ arm?”

“Sore as fuckin’ hell.”

“So you’re ridin’ tomorrow night?”

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“Yep. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yep.”

Kyle sipped his beer and glanced at the mostly dark campsite.

“Quiet night for a two- day event.”

“Most people are grabbing shut- eye while they can. We’ll all be back on the road tomorrow night.”

“Where you headed?”

“Council Oaks, Idaho. Then Red City. There’s a good eight, nine days of action in Idaho and Oregon.” Breck pushed his hat up on his forehead a little higher. “What about you?”

“We were gonna swing down through Jackson Hole. Pick up a few events in the western side of Wyoming and then Utah before we hit Colorado.” Kyle fiddled with the metal tab on his beer can.

“Now I ain’t sure what’ll happen, bein’s Hank has to return to Muddy Gap to recover.”

“No bullfightin’ at all?”

“Guess not.” Hank had no stake in finishing out Cowboy Christmas. The real payday for him would be getting selected to work in the EBS.

“Still don’t answer my question. What’re
you
gonna do?”

“Since it’s Hank’s rig and camper, I reckon I’ll go back to Wyoming. Figure out what to do from there.”

“Or if you wanna keep up the winning momentum, you can hit the road with me,” Breck offered.

Whoa. That’d come out of left field, as so many things had today. Not just getting hung up on the bull, or Hank’s going above and beyond to save his sorry ass. But seeing Lainie’s reaction to Hank’s injury. Mostly seeing Lainie’s reaction to Hank. And how Hank reacted to her. Like she was everything.

When an hour passed and he hadn’t heard from Lainie after she’d gone to the exam rooms, Kyle had sweet- talked the nurse into letting him sneak back there. Damned ironic, after all the LORELEI JAMES 9

threesomes they’d been in, that he’d felt like a fucking peeping Tom, watching them together from a crack in the curtains.

Kyle had left the hospital immediately afterward. At loose ends, he’d sat alone in the camper, contemplating his options before wandering over here.

“No big deal if you’d rather pass,” Breck said, breaking Kyle’s melancholy.

“It’s not that. What about Lee?”

Breck sighed. “He’s already gone home. He ain’t won money in the last fifteen stops, so he’s hanging it up for this year. Feels guilty bein’ away from his wife and baby girl.”

“I would too. I ain’t gonna spend my life on the road, but after spending last year sitting out, I missed it. Guess that means I’m not done with it neither.”

“Good to hear. So’s that a yes?”

“Yep.”

The pinched look vanished from Breck’s face. Smiling, he flipped open the cooler lid and fished out two cold beers. “Next case is on you, partner.”

9

Hank snarled when fingers prodded his head, waking him up for the millionth time. He bit out, “Jesus, I’m fine,” and squeezed his eyes shut against the intrusive light burning his eyeballs.

The nurse chuckled. “Open your eyes so I can check them and I’ll go away.”

Muttering, he complied.

“You’re due for more medication if you want it.”

His entire body throbbed. As he started to deny his need for it, Lainie spoke.

“Just give it to him. He’s been restless the last hour. And he won’t ask for it.”