Road to Glory (15 page)

Glory heard Mickey give a sickening scream as the bull shoved past, pushing her against the other rail with a vicious kick of his hind foot. Her head collided with the red metal fence, and she saw stars. Gasping for breath, she hung on the rails and gathered her wits. Around her, men’s shouts and the sounds of boots and horses’ hooves filled the air. Her heart pounded against her chest. She shoved back and caught her feet. Looking over, she caught sight of the four-foot-high, eight-foot-long metal fence being hauled from an unmoving figure.

“Mickey!” Stumbling forward, she tried to move to his side, but another hand shoved her back. Glory fell hard on her bottom.

“Don’t move him.” She heard Travis’ voice.

Leaning forward, she crawled toward them on her hands and knees. “Mickey?”

His eyes were closed, his face ashen. Glory swallowed the fear that tried to overwhelm her. She looked at the man bending over his body and asked, “Is he all right?”

Chapter Eleven

Travis Hargrove’s furious eyes haunted Glory as they helped a grumbling Mickey onto the porch and into the glider. No sooner had she asked her silly question than he had begun to come to, only to lie cussing those trying to hold him down. Insisting that he was all right, Mickey had grudgingly allowed the vet to go over him, insisting one doctor was just as good as another. When Doc Green had given his go-ahead to let him up, Travis and one of the cowhands had put his arms around their necks and half carried him across to the house. While the men were clustered outside, Glory had gone in and found Alma on the phone to the emergency room.

“They said bring him in,” she said, hanging up the phone.

Glory nodded.

“You go out there and tell that man not to move. I’ll get some ice for that bump on his forehead.”

“I’ll get the truck.” Glory turned, but her hand had no sooner touched the door than Travis swung it open. She glanced at him. “I’ve got to get Mickey to the emergency room.”

“I heard.” She watched him glance over to where Mickey sat. “You think he’ll go?”

“No,” she whispered. Rubbing her hands down the sides of her jeans, she walked over to the glider. “Mickey, the doctors at the emergency room want to see you.”

The corners of his mouth turned down. “Ah, I don’t need to go to no emergency room,” he fumed.

Glory knelt down before him and placed a hand on his knee. “I know, but I want you to go.”

Mickey stared at her as if she’d struck him. She gave him a half smile of encouragement. “I want you to go for me. Make sure you’re okay.”

“The vet says I’m fine. I got a hard head,” Mickey grumbled.

“I know you do, but all the same, I want you to go,” she said.

Mickey stared at her for a minute, then took a deep breath, wincing as his chest moved. He gave a nod. “All right. For you,” he agreed.

“Good,” she told him as Alma came through the doorway and pressed a baggie, filled with ice and wrapped in a towel, to the goose egg forming above his brow.

“Now hold still while Glory gets the truck.” She eyed the men in the yard. “And you cowboys get your work done. I’ll keep Mr. Davis company.”

Glory stood up and looked at the concerned faces of the men standing around, hats in hands. Turning to the vet, she asked, “Can we finish this in a few days?”

“Sure, Glory. I’ll come back early Friday morning. That’ll still give you plenty of time for getting the cattle to the fairgrounds.” He put his hat on his head. “Let me know how Mickey is?”

“I will,” she replied and stepped down onto the grass with him. As the doctor walked away, she put her hands to her hips and looked at the wrecked metal fencing and the bulls staring across the fence at the house. “Gentlemen, check the bull for cuts, and we’re going to call it a day. Be here tomorrow; I want a sturdy fence in place for our next go-round.”

A low murmur of voices echoed in the stillness as the men walked away. “Alma,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll bring the truck around.”

“Glory, don’t forget to go see Angel and let her know what’s happened.”

“Tell her not to worry,” Mickey called out weakly.

With a shake of her head, Glory walked toward the truck parked in the shelter next to the barn.

“How about if we take my truck?” Travis asked.

Glory paused. “Yours?”

Travis looked at the ground before bringing his glance back to her. “Look, you’re not in any shape to drive. Mickey’s not feeling so good. The truck I rented has a crew cab, so he can rest a lot better. You just tell me how to get there.”

Pressing her lips together, Glory took a moment to think. Weary beyond belief, she found his words rang with a bit of truth. She didn’t want to drive. She felt she could barely put one foot in front of the other. “Thanks,” she agreed. “I’d like that.”

****

Glory rode in the back seat with Mickey, her hand steady against the ice pack pressed to his temple. “We’ll be there in a minute,” she told him. Looking up through the windshield, she could see the formidable red-brick, two-story building a block up. “Take the next left.”

Travis nodded. “How’s he doing?”

“Why don’t you ask me?” Mickey piped up.

Glory caught Travis’ eyes in the rearview mirror showing a hint of a smile as the corners crinkled.

“All right, how are you doing?”

“My head feels like it weighs a ton.” Mickey added a groan to the words.

“It won’t be long now,” Glory whispered.

“You get ahold of Angel?” her foreman asked.

“She’s meeting us there,” she assured him.

The truck pulled to a stop. Glory glanced over her shoulder and ignored the look of concern Travis sent her in the rearview mirror. An intern opened the door.

“Miss Beebe?”

“Yes,” Glory answered.

“Let me help you get Mr. Davis out.”

With Mickey grumbling, Glory scrambled over to the other side of the seat.

“Mr. Davis, do you hurt anywhere?”

Glory watched Mickey open one eye and give the intern a withering glance.

“Sonny, I’ve just been run over by a two-thousand-pound bull masqueradin’ as a Mack truck. It might be a bit more prudent to ask where it don’t hurt.”

The intern’s face filled with embarrassment and, despite the seriousness of the situation, Glory had to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing.

“Yes, sir, duly noted. How about your upper arm?” He grasped Mickey carefully beneath the armpit.

“It’ll do,” Mickey grumbled as he used the help to scramble from the back of the truck.

“I’ve got him,” Travis said.

Glory looked up as he put his hands beneath Mickey’s arms so the intern could push the wheelchair around.

“I ain’t gonna ride in a chair like some sissy.”

“You’ll do as told,” Travis remarked, helping him to ease down. “Besides, I can look over your shoulder and see the nurses.”

“Good lookin’?”

Glory watched Travis give him a wicked grin. “You’ll enjoy it.”

“Humph.” Mickey slouched down as the intern turned the chair and rolled him toward the doorway.

To her surprise, Travis waited as she climbed out and shut the door. “You okay?”

She looked up into his worried face. “Fine,” she answered.

Travis placed a hand on her lower back as they walked in. “Perhaps someone should look at you too?”

“I’m fine,” she answered again. Their steps faltered at the squeal of tires, a slamming door, and the sound of rushing footsteps barreling toward them. Glory glanced over her shoulder to see Angel’s stricken face.

“Is he all right? They called and told me he was rushed to the emergency room.” Her trembling hand brushed back the long raven-colored locks.

“They’ve taken him inside,” Glory explained. “We just got here. I was coming out to the Hitching Post to get you. Did Alma call?”

“Yes, she wanted to make sure I had his insurance card.”

She could see Angel’s nervousness. Glory took a deep breath and slowly let it out.
We’re family,
she reminded herself. She stepped over and put a hand on her arm. “I’m glad she did. I hadn’t thought of you being at work so early. Come on, I’ll walk in there with you.” She cut her glance over to Travis. He said nothing, only stepped back and followed, shepherding them inside.

The emergency room bustled with activity—nurses wheeling patients, people waiting to be seen slumped in chairs or reading magazines. Ignoring them, Glory guided Angel to the nurse behind the counter.

“May I help you?” she asked, looking up from her chart.

“M-my father,” Angel stammered. “He just came in.”

“Name?” the nurse asked.

“Davis. Mickey Davis.”

“Right this way.” The nurse stood, picked up a clipboard filled with papers, and held it out toward Glory. “Perhaps you can fill these out for him,” she said as her hand hit the metal button that opened the door.

“I’m not his daughter,” Glory began. “He works for me. This is his daughter.” She gestured toward Angel.

“Oh.” The woman gave Glory an apologetic look. “You’ll have to wait here then.” She offered a soft smile. “I’ll make sure she gets to the right cubicle.”

Glory stepped back. “Sure, that would be great. Angel, we’ll wait for you.”

With a nod, Angel disappeared behind the automatic doors.

****

Travis poured another cup of coffee and brought it over to Glory. She sat against the wall, slumped to one side, her chin resting on her hand. “Here, drink this.” Travis shoved the cup into her hands before she had a chance to decline. Her glance flickered over him, then back to the cup and the steam curling from the hot liquid.

“Thanks,” she whispered and sat up straighter to sip. “I can’t imagine what’s taking so long.”

“X-rays take a while to take and then to read.” He assured her as he sat down and leaned forward to rest his arms on his legs.

Glory swallowed the mouthful of coffee and gave him a sad sideways glance. “I’m sure you’d know.”

He responded with a wry grin. “Yeah, I would know.” He stared down at the blue and tan tiles of the emergency room floor and thought about all those hours, all that pain. Squeezing his eyes closed tight, Travis pushed the thoughts away from his mind. The soft touch of her fingers against his back made him cast a glance in her direction.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to bring up your accident.”

The genuine look of pain that crossed her features touched him. Somehow, she’d managed to find the key and turn it. A wave of relief washed across his features. “It’s okay.” He sat up and leaned his back against the cold wall.

“It must have been awful, lying on those gurneys unable to move.”

He nodded. “It had its moments.”

Her arm rested on the padding between them. It seemed only natural for him to run his hand down and intertwine their fingers. Her skin was soft. He rubbed his rough calloused thumb gently across the first knuckle of her hand. With each stroke she seemed to relax, and before he knew it she had laid her head against his shoulder. Travis let the sensation of her lemony scent mixed with the dirt from the corral ease over him.

He could get used to this if he wasn’t careful. The more he thought about it, he couldn’t find a reason why it would be a bad thing. He had to admit that being here with her seemed right. He glanced down at the blonde head on his shoulder and knew he liked being the one to shoulder a burden. Especially when it wasn’t his own.

The doors to the examining rooms opened with a hushed whoosh of hydraulics. He felt Glory pull away from him and, with regret, he let go of her hand. Rising, she moved toward Mickey’s daughter.

“They’re going to keep him overnight,” she told them. “The doctor wants to make sure he has no complications from a slight concussion.”

“No internal injuries?” Travis asked.

Angel shook her head. “No, some bruised ribs and a sprained ankle.” She pulled the strap to her pocketbook back onto her shoulder. “He wants to see you two.”

“Me?” Travis felt his brow pucker.

“He says he has to ask you a question.” She shrugged. “The nurse is waiting.”

Travis watched her activate the heavy doors, and together the three of them moved through. The nurse led them to a small cubicle just off the nurse’s desk and pulled back the curtain.

“Mr. Davis, your visitors are here.” She turned toward them. “Not long. The doctors want him to rest.”

Travis nodded as they stepped in and crowded around the gurney. Glory reached out and took Mickey’s hand.

“Hey, there,” she said softly.

He opened his eyes and looked at them. Travis could see a moment’s confusion before he spoke.

“Good, you’re still here.”

“Of course.” Glory smiled. “I had to make sure you were okay.”

“Humph, won’t let me leave and sleep in my own bed,” Mickey grumbled.

“Now, Dad,” Angel warned him.

He cast a narrow gaze in her direction. “Why don’t you go see about gettin’ me a cup of coffee? I got business to discuss.”

Angel rolled her eyes, but she complied with his wishes and left the room.

The space at the right side of the bed now empty, Travis moved over to stand across from Glory. “What’s all this nonsense about needing to speak with us?”

“I ain’t goin’ to be able to finish the teaching with them kids tomorrow.” Mickey licked his lips.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Glory said.

“Well, I am. I got my reputation.” He pulled the blanket up a bit higher against his chest. “This damn gown is uncomfortable. You’d think as much as the bill will be, they’d put a back on ’em.”

“Stop your fussing.” Glory shook her head. “The bill will get paid.”

Mickey let out a deep breath. “Glory, you got to help me. You and Travis, you’ve got to get those kids ready. Those aren’t green bulls they’re gettin’ on. Parker is bringin’ in some boys lookin’ to fill a spot.”

Travis watched Mickey’s eyes move toward him. The knot in the pit of his stomach doubled. “My spot.”

The older cowboy lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, could be.”

“Oh, Mickey, how long have you known?” Glory gasped.

They watched his face contort. “Not long. I talked to Big John yesterday.” His eyes shifted over to Travis. “I was goin’ to tell you, Travis, honest. Big John figured if you had some competition, he could see how it would all stack up.”