Road to Glory (16 page)

Travis swallowed the lump in his throat. “I haven’t said I’d ride.”

“’Course you will,” Mickey scoffed. “Why, look at you. You ain’t used your cane in days now. You just need to get some confidence back.”

“My leg—” he began.

“Is healed.” Mickey looked at him. “It’s now or never. You know what they say about a man that gets throwed off his horse.”

“He gets back on.” Travis’ voice was void of emotion.

“Glory here will help you. Trust her, Travis. It’s the right thing to do.” Mickey sighed. “I’m countin’ on you both.”

Travis watched Mickey close his eyes. It was obvious the drugs the doctors had given him were working. Looking across to Glory, he gestured with a nod of his head that they should leave. He watched her give the older cowboy a squeeze of her hand, then bend down and whisper, “Get some rest, Mickey. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Rest,” he mumbled as she moved away.

Travis pushed the curtain open so she could walk through, and stared down at the hat in his hand as she drew closer.

“I wish there was more we could do.”

He glanced up and studied the lines of worry that etched her face. “There’s nothing more we can do today. I’m sure when he gets home there’ll be things we can do to help him get up to speed.”

She glanced back at the curtain and nodded. “You’re right, of course. I guess the best thing to do right now is work together to get this training done before the end of next week. God, I’d give anything for a few more days.”

Without thinking, Travis pressed his lips together and did his best to swallow the fear that rose inside him. “Let me get you home.”

Her hand found his sleeve. “I need to speak to Angel first.”

He shifted his hat to his other hand. “All right, let’s go.”

His hand rested at the small of her back as he ushered her to the nurse’s desk, where Angel Davis stood with a cup of coffee. As they approached she turned.

“They’re going to move him upstairs for observation overnight,” she informed them. “They say it’s just routine.” Her fingers nervously twirled the Styrofoam cup as she spoke.

“I’m sure it is,” Glory assured her. “You know you are welcome to spend the night out at the ranch house.”

Angel looked up, her dark eyes showing surprise. “Thanks, Glory, but I’ll stay with Dad a while. I’ve a friend in town. I can crash there.”

“Are you sure?”

Angel gave a nod of her head. “Yeah, I put in the call. They’ll be here soon. I’ll see you later.”

“Call me when you bring him home,” Glory urged.

“Sure.”

****

The whir of the tires against the pavement seemed to hypnotize them both. Glory hadn’t said a word since leaving the hospital. Travis glanced over to where she was resting in the passenger’s seat. “You should have let someone check you over.”

She stirred. Her head rolled against the back of the seat, hair mussed, and she opened her eyes to look back at him. “I’m fine, really. Just your everyday bumps and bruises.”

He took his right hand from the wheel and drew a finger across the lump on her cheek. “Yeah, normal,” he teased.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” She glared back and pushed into an upright position. “I just need a hot bath.”

She turned and shifted in the seat to stare at the headlights piercing the darkness in front of them. Feeling the cold shoulder, Travis brought his hand back to the steering wheel. He’d done it again, alienating her friendship with his insensitive words. His lips drew back in a firm line, and mentally he sent the toe of his boot into his backsides.

“So how’d ya get there so fast?”

He blinked at her words. She must have read the confusion on his face and added, “I didn’t hear your truck pull up.”

Lord, just call me stupid
. “Oh, you mean when Mickey got hurt?”

“Yeah.”

“I followed Alma back from town. She pulled toward the house, but I saw the action going on and turned toward the corral. I’d no more than pulled up when it all started to unfold.”

In the shadows of the cab, he heard her sigh. “I can’t believe it happened. We’ve put that temporary metal fence up a hundred times. I guess the guys didn’t put it deep enough.”

“Maybe the ground’s too hard. Look, Glory, it was just an accident. It was hot, and that old bull was having none of it. Don’t beat yourself up over this,” he said.

There was a slight pause before she responded. “Hard not to, when it’s your cattle involved and a good man got hurt,” she murmured.

Travis turned the truck into the dirt drive that led to the ranch and didn’t speak again until he’d pulled to a stop before the farmhouse. “Sit tight,” he ordered. Not waiting for her to respond, he hurried around to her side of the cab and opened the door. “Come on, sweetness.”

He watched her head lift and give a slow turn in his direction. Though he couldn’t make out her features, her every movement spoke of exhaustion, both mental and physical. He held out his hand and, without urging, she took it. Stepping from the truck, she walked to the door with him, his hand on her elbow; Travis could feel the tremble of her muscles. His hand slid around her waist to hold her close as he murmured encouragement. “Almost there.”

Opening the back door, he flicked on the light and guided her to a chair. The slightest pressure of his fingers compelled her to sit. Travis knelt down and, with great care, eased one boot from her foot.

“Aren’t you supposed to have a glass slipper or something?”

Her comment brought out a chuckle of relief. “Sorry. Must have left it in my other saddlebags,” he said.

A soft sigh of relief broke from her lips as she wiggled her toes. The sound triggered his smile to widen. “Now the other one.” She lifted her right leg without a comment, and his fingers eased upward to slip the boot off, but the leather didn’t want to budge.

“Isn’t this where you call for the ugly stepsister?” she asked.

Placing both hands on the heel, he worked it back and forth. “She left with the prince,” he told her. “Point your toe.” Grasping the boot in a tight grip but still working carefully, he finally managed to get it free. “Your foot looks swollen,” he remarked, drawing down her sock.

“Must be where the bull kicked me,” Glory told him and winced as he pushed the leg of her jeans toward her knee. “Ow.”

As tenderly as he could, he tilted her knee at an angle so he could see the bruise. Above the line of her boot, he found a deep purple bruise resembling a hoof’s shape. “Yep, he gotcha good. There’s no broken skin, though.”

“That’s good to hear,” she grumbled. “I’ll get a hot bath and come back down for some Tylenol.”

“Where’s Alma?” She should keep her weight off that foot and not be walking back and forth to the kitchen.

“Don’t know,” Glory answered. “There on the fridge…”

Travis turned and looked. A white sheet of paper lay against the door, held by two magnets. He rose and went over to pluck it off.

“What’s she say?”

“Gone to check on Angel. Will be back later.”

“Great.”

Her voice sounded so disheartened, Travis looked up. “What can I help you do?”

“Nothing,” she replied and grasped the table to pull her weary body up. “I’ll just go up and get a bath—” She took a step, and her legs seemed to wobble. With a gasp, Glory teetered and started to fall.

Without missing a beat, Travis clutched her to his chest before she hit the floor. Holding her against him, he could feel the wild beat of her heart beneath her shirt. He wondered, looking down at her upturned face, if she could feel his racing to keep pace. Gazing down at those limpid pools of blue, he felt like a man on the brink of eternity. One small step, and he’d fall hard.

“I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Her breath rushed past his cheek in a warm embrace.

“Not to worry. I’m here,” he heard himself answer. Bending slightly, Travis picked her up and held her in his arms.

“Your leg?” she protested.

“Will be fine,” he assured her. “Which way to the bathroom?”

“Up the stairs and to the right,” Glory whispered.

Travis felt her head against his shoulder, and his chest swelled with pride. This was right. This was where this little lady needed to be. The word “home” materialized in his mind. He wanted to shut the world out and see where this would lead. His boots found the stairs, and he shifted her in his arms and held her closer.

Chapter Twelve

Travis carried her up the stairs without a problem. Light as a feather, her head nestled on his shoulder, her arms around his neck—if this was a dream, he prayed no one would wake him. At the bathroom door, he turned sideways and eased inside. “Cut on the light.” Cool air replaced the warmth of her hands as she turned to reach the light. There was a blink and the overhead lights above the medicine cabinet came on. “I’m going to set you down for a minute,” he told her. “Keep that leg off the ground.”

Glory nodded and stood poised on one foot while he lowered the lid on the commode.

“You can sit here and undress.” He nodded toward the toilet that stood adjacent to the tub. “I’ll put the water on, and you can slide in while I get you some ice and a couple of pain relievers.” He leaned over and turned the taps.

“You don’t have to do this, Travis.”

She was right; he didn’t. Deep down inside he knew he should. Chalk it up to the right thing to do, or his chivalrous nature. It didn’t matter. All he knew was the urge to protect her proved stronger than letting go. Straightening, he placed a hand beneath her chin and lifted her face so she could see the sincerity in his eyes. “Yes, I do. For once in your life, Glory Beebe, you are going to have someone look out for you.” Her eyes widened in surprise. He gave her his best impression of a Brad Pitt smile. “Don’t spoil my attempt at auditioning for that Prince Charming role.”

Her lips twitched. He could tell she wanted to laugh.

“Now, towels?”

“In the hallway. The small closet to the right of the doorway,” she said.

“Sit tight.” He stepped outside the bath and located the door. Pulling two towels out, he laid them on the counter and asked, “What do you need to wear?”

She shook her head. “My PJs are here on the back of the door.”

“All right.” He gave a curt nod. “I’ll be back shortly to check on you.” As he grasped the door handle to pull it to, he heard her softly answer, “You’re doing real well in the Prince Charming role, by the way.”

Travis smiled. “Thanks,” he said and closed the door.

****

One by one she popped the buttons of her shirt through the holes and pulled the material from her body. There wasn’t a spot that didn’t hurt or cry out in protest when a muscle moved. Glory could only imagine how Mickey felt about now, if he was feeling much through the prescription painkillers. With a groan, she pulled up to stand and, undoing her belt, shimmied out of her jeans. She turned away and glanced over her shoulder at the full-length mirror behind the door.

With a grimace, she studied the deep purple bruise. A few strokes of magenta red ran though the center. Travis was right; she should be off it for at least tonight. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, then lowered her bottom onto the side of the tub. She grabbed a plastic bottle and squirted bubble bath beneath the faucet before she cut the water off.

Wisps of steam rose from the tub. Glory put her hand down and trailed her fingers through to test the temperature. Then, bringing her legs over, she slipped in. A soft sigh of delight issued from her lips as she sank, submerging to her shoulders beneath the bubbles. For a few moments, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the scent of fresh lemons as it rose with the steam. Her mind drifted, free of today’s horrid events. She breathed deeply, and from the mist his face emerged.

Again Travis had played her hero. He’d come to her rescue without hesitation, helping Mickey, offering to drive them to the hospital, and not once mentioning the bull or how it was a man’s job. The concern on his face when he’d carried her upstairs and into the bathroom tugged at her heartstrings. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she was falling for him. Bending her knees, she placed her toes beneath the hot water faucet and studied them. There had been no one else since Jax. Oh, she’d dated a few of the men in town, but she’d not even thought about giving her heart—not until now.

Grabbing the sponge, she plunged it beneath the bubbles, then leaned forward, squeezing it to let the warm soapy water run across her back. At twenty-five, she didn’t think of love the way she had in high school. They were both older. No doubt he was experienced. She pulled the sponge to her chest and squeezed. The water trailed down her body and back to the tub. He probably knew a lot more about sex than she did, with her limited exposure.

Should I make the first move? How would he react?

Her glance strayed to the sage green V-neck T-shirt and matching boxers hanging on the back of the door. “Not exactly the sexiest lingerie.” She pressed her lips together. “But it will have to do.” Now, if she could just get her courage up…

A knock at the door brought her back to reality.

“Glory, you all right?”

Travis.

“Uh, yes.” She blinked. “Fine. I was just getting ready to scrub.”

“Okay, just checkin’. I didn’t want you to fall asleep and drown.”

She heard the muffled sound of his boots on the carpet and the squeak of the stairs as he headed back down.

Drown
. She gave a sly smile.
That might mean mouth-to-mouth
resuscitation.
“Hm, with Travis that might be fun.” She looked toward the mirror and stared hard at her reflection. “What’s that old saying, ‘better to have loved and lost’?”

Only this time, Glory didn’t plan on losing.

****

He pulled another handful of ice from the bin in the freezer and dumped it into the plastic bag on the counter. Above him the sounds of the running water stopped, and he paused to look up. She was in that warm water about now, turning all pink and pretty. Somewhere inside he knew it probably wasn’t the right kind of thoughts to be having. Shaking the plastic bag, he zipped the opening closed and pulled a hand towel from the drawer to wrap around it. Maybe, he thought, instead of taking the bag upstairs he should just loosen his belt and place it in the front of his trousers to cool himself down.