by Julie Benson
“I’ve heard you’re doing an amazing job. Do you like working here? You look happy?”
Her mother’s question made Cheyenne think. She was happy. While she didn’t love her job the way she did barrel racing, comparing her life away from work to what she’d had before was like comparing brussels sprouts to strawberry shortcake. “I am happy.”
Happier than when you were on the rodeo circuit?
Since Cooper asked about friends on the circuit, she’d thought about her life. She realized it mainly consisted of watching miles pile up on her odometer, the hum of tires against pavement as she and Riley drove from one rodeo to the next. Home had been motels and living out of a suitcase, instead of a place that comforted her after a long day. The people she’d thought of as friends weren’t even acquaintances. They hadn’t cared enough to see how she was doing. Not one person had missed her.
What, other than the barrel racing, had been that fantastic?
Absolutely nothing. Nothing else in her life gave her joy.
And yet, she wanted to return. She needed to in order to prove this tumor wouldn’t dictate her life and what she did with it.
“I’m glad. You know, I really wasn’t trying to make you miserable when you lived at the house,” her mom said, breaking through Cheyenne’s thoughts. “I’m sorry I made it so hard for you. My head knows you’re a grown woman capable of taking care of yourself, but you’re still my little girl. I’m worried about you, and I always will be.”
“I knew whatever you did, it was out of love and concern for me.”
“Then we’re good? You’ve forgiven me for what I did?”
The police incident. If Cooper, the one who could’ve lost the most because of her mother’s insanity, could forgive her mom, what was she doing holding onto her anger? She smiled, knowing they both needed her to say the words. “Of course, I forgive you, Mom. But no more acting crazy because you’re worried. No more calling the police.”
The moment she said the words, something inside Cheyenne’s chest lightened as if the weight pressing against her heart was gone.
Her mom nodded as she sat all prim and proper on the small desk chair, her hands clutched around the black leather purse resting on her tan slacks. “Can I ask about your health or is that off-limits now?”
She wanted a relationship with her mother, but one with reasonable boundaries. To do that, she needed to choose what she shared. “You can ask, but you can’t interrogate me.”
“I understand.” Her mother paused and toyed with her purse clasp. “Have you had many seizures since you moved?”
No way would Cheyenne tell her mother the truth, that not only had her seizures become more frequent, they lasted longer, and left her weaker. Cheyenne squirmed in her chair. Plastic squeaked and her leg bumped Penny. Latching on the excuse to avoid her mom’s question, she patted her thigh and called Penny out from under the desk. As she ran her hand over the dog’s soft fur, she said, “Mom, this is Penny Lane.”
“Goodness, I didn’t expect her to be so big. You say she’s helping you? She can really warn you a seizure’s coming?”
“It’s hard to believe, but she can. She starts whining and pawing at me. When that happens, I can have a seizure in fifteen minutes to an hour. I take steps to be safe, and Penny stays with me until it passes.”
Her mother frowned. “I hoped medication would work and you wouldn’t have to see the neurosurgeon. I know you’re counting on surgery, but you need to be prepared. I talked with Linda Rucker. Her cousin’s son is a doctor, and he says surgery would be very difficult.”
Really? She should take thirdhand information? Calm down. Breathe. You’re over twenty-one. Surgery is your decision. “Even if medication were working, I’d still consider surgery. Getting rid of the tumor is the best option.”
“But it’s brain surgery.”
She wished people wouldn’t say those two words as if she thought it compared to getting her hair cut. The reality was, the thought of someone poking around in her brain gave her the willies.
“Just don’t get your hopes up.”
“I’m not, but—”
The door flew open, banging against the wall, interrupting Cheyenne. In ran a boy of ten or eleven, his eyes wide and terror filled, followed by a frazzled older woman. The boy’s yellow T-shirt and the puppy in his arms were covered with blood. “You got to save Rufus!”
Chapter Fourteen
Cheyenne’s mind froze. Her heart hammered against her ribs and blood pounded in her ears. Don’t panic. It’ll make everything worse. She inhaled deeply and exhaled as she reached into a nearby cabinet for a large towel from the pile kept there for emergencies. As she darted into the reception area, she called out in what she hoped sounded like an assertive I-need-help-but-I’m-not-terrified voice, “Dr. Abbott, will you come here?”
The strong, coppery smell of blood filled her nostrils, turning her stomach when she reached the boy. No, she wouldn’t be sick. Cooper trusted her to handle whatever walked in the door, and dammit, she wouldn’t let him down. But where was the man?
She pointed toward the exam room. “Mom, get Cooper.”
Her mother’s delicate hand shook before splaying across her chest. “Oh, dear, Cheyenne. There’s so much blood. I think I’m going to faint.”
“Put your head between your knees,” Cheyenne instructed before she focused on the boy and the black puppy shaking and whimpering in his arms.
The blood came from a big gash on its tail. Step one. Slow the blood loss. When she wrapped the towel around the injury, the dog howled and tried to jump out of the boy’s arms. “Hold him tight while I put pressure on the wound to slow the bleeding.”
“It’s all my fault Rufus got hurt.” Tears streamed down the boy’s pale face. The only color there came from his wide, frightened brown eyes. His lip trembled as he worked to control his fear.
“Look at me.” Cheyenne’s no-nonsense-snap-out-of-it voice seized the boy’s attention. “Breathe with me.” She inhaled deeply, held it for a second, and slowly exhaled. The boy mirrored her breathing and, after a couple repetitions, appeared more in control. “Now hold Rufus tight, and keep your eyes on my face.”
The boy did as told. As Cheyenne applied more pressure, she said, “My name’s Cheyenne. What’s yours?”
“Austin Lancaster.”
“You did a fantastic job getting Rufus here, Austin.” The towel grew damp under her palm. “Let’s get him to Dr. Abbott to get fixed up.”
When she tried to take the pup, Austin’s grip tightened, and she worried he’d fight her to keep Rufus. “It’s the first time Mom left me home alone, and I’ve killed Rufus. He’s my best friend. What am I gonna do?”
“Rufus won’t die. We’ve slowed the bleeding, and that’s the biggest danger.” She flashed Austin a small smile and prayed she was right. “Rufus is counting on you. If you’re super scared, it’ll scare him more, but if you’re calm it’ll reassure him. We’ve got to cowboy up and do what needs to be done.”
And it’s my job to reassure you and keep you calm.
“This is what we’re going to do. I’ll keep pressure on his wound. You’re going to walk with me, and we’re going to find Dr. Abbott. No arguments. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
*
“Dr. Abbott, we have an emergency. I need you in exam two,” Cheyenne said from outside the room where Cooper was examining Mrs. Tijerina’s cat, Buster.
Cooper issued a quick apology, said he’d be back as soon as possible, and made a hasty exit. When he entered the second exam room, he found Cheyenne and a frightened boy huddled around a puppy on the exam table, a blood-soaked towel wrapped around his tail.
As he strode across the room, his brain kicked into crisis assessment mode. “What happened?”
The boy opened his mouth, but only got out three words before tears spilled down his cheeks and clogged his throat.
“This is Austin and his best buddy Rufus. He’s got a l
arge cut on his tail.” Cheyenne placed her hand on the boy’s arm. “Austin, remember we’re cowboying up to keep Rufus calm. If you can’t do that, you’ll have to leave.”
The boy nodded, wiped his eyes on his Mario Brothers T-shirt sleeve, and inhaled deeply. “I’ll be okay.”
“Is Rufus current on his shots,” Cooper asked.
“I guess so. Mom and I brought him to Dr. King a couple times after we got him, and he got shots then.”
Cooper nodded, making a mental note to pull the records before Rufus and Austin left.
“Should I get the records?” Cheyenne asked as if she’d read his mind.
“I need you here,” Cooper said as he uncovered the wound to assess the situation and Austin explained what happened. Apparently, when they’d gone inside after playing in the backyard, the pup was in front of Austin. As he shut the door, Rufus darted behind him. “I shut his tail in the door. That’s how he got hurt. It’s my fault.”
“No, it’s not. Puppies are unpredictable and move dang fast,” Cooper insisted. “Sometimes faster than boys. Rufus will be fine. He won’t even lose his tail.”
“But there was so much blood,” Austin said, and then bit his lip and scratched his puppy’s head.
“That’s because tail wounds bleed like a gushing oil well. While the cut’s deep, a few stitches will fix it.” Cooper reached for the pup to take him to the operating room. However, the minute his hands slid under Rufus, the pup hooked his front paws around Austin’s arm and held on tight. When he tried to pry him loose, the pup howled and nipped at him. Not wanting to upset Rufus further, Cooper moved to plan B. “Instead of stitching Rufus up in the operating room, I think we’ll take care of it here.”
“Should I call Shawna to assist you?” Cheyenne asked, referring to his part-time vet assistant.
He shook his head. Noticing Rufus’s movements had increased the wound’s bleeding, Cooper retrieved a clean towel from the cupboard and exchanged it for the bloody one. “I don’t want to wait.”
“Can I stay while you fix Rufus up?”
“Considering how upset he became when I tried to take him, having you here would help, but you need to stay calm. Can you do that, Austin?”
Austin nodded, and resolve filled his gaze. “I promise.”
Cooper instructed Austin to keep pressure on the wound while Cheyenne cleaned the room as she would between animals, and he retrieved suture supplies.
He smiled, thinking how he’d been right about Cheyenne and the job. The moment she’d lifted her chin and stared down the punk that night in The Horseshoe, Cooper knew she had spunk. But pair that with her common sense and compassion, and though this was her first clinic crisis, she was performing like a seasoned vet assistant.
When Cooper returned, Cheyenne had the room cleaned and sanitized. “Cheyenne, your job is to blot the wound when needed for me to see clearly to suture the laceration. You’ll also help Austin keep Rufus calm and still. Everyone got it?”
After his “assistants” nodded, Cooper slipped on fresh gloves and picked up the syringe filled with numbing medication from the sterilized tray he’d placed on the counter. “Hold Rufus tight. This will sting, but once the medicine kicks in, he won’t feel a thing.”
Austin held the pup’s head to his chest, while Cheyenne held the body as Cooper administered the medication. Rufus yelped, but remained still. “We’ll give it a minute or two to take effect.”
While they waited, Cheyenne asked, “How’d you get Rufus?”
“In school we wrote a persuasive letter to our parents. Mine was trying to talk Mom into letting me have a dog. She said if I got all As on my next report card, I could have one,” Austin said and scratched Rufus behind his huge, floppy black ears.
“Wow, talk about an incentive,” Cooper said.
Austin smiled. “I didn’t think I could do it, but I studied real hard. I even turned in all my homework assignments. On time. But reading was the toughest. It’s hard for me.”
“Math was my hardest subject. The numbers always got jumbled up.” Cheyenne nodded toward the pup. “I’m guessing since you got Rufus, you got all As?”
Cooper tested the wound for numbness, determined he could proceed, and started suturing the laceration.
“I sure did.” Austin’s voice filled with pride. “Right after I showed her my report card, we got on Petfinder.com to see what dogs ’round here needed a home. I made a list of the ones I liked, and we went to the shelter the next day.”
“Was Rufus at the top of the list?”
“Nope. He wasn’t on the website. I didn’t see him ’til we got to the shelter. When he saw me, he barked like crazy, and I knew he was my dog.”
“I thought the same thing when I saw my horse, Riley,” Cheyenne said.
“Did you know Cheyenne’s a barrel racer?” Cooper asked, as he finished the second stitch. “You’ve seen the big welcome sign when you come into town, haven’t you?”
“Wow, you’re that Cheyenne?” Austin said, his voice filled with awe.
She nodded, her bright green eyes sparkling with pride.
“Then what’re you doing here?”
Out of the mouths of babes. Cooper inwardly cringed, knowing the simple question would hurt Cheyenne. The light in her eyes died and she stiffened. Then she lifted her chin in the way he admired. “I’ve been sick, but I hope to be racing around barrels again soon.”
Cooper flinched at Cheyenne’s reminder of the future. How will you find someone who knows you so well and is so easy to work with to replace her?
Despite Cheyenne’s determination to return to the rodeo, it was far from a done deal. What a lousy thought to have since that would mean she hadn’t gotten rid of the tumor or controlled her seizures well enough to ride. He wanted the best for her. He just wished that didn’t mean her leaving.
“Austin, you and I should cheer Cheyenne on her first race back.” Cooper couldn’t believe he’d said that. Was he thinking he and Cheyenne could have a relationship once she returned to the circuit? Like she’d want anything to do with a boring small-town vet once she got around dare-devil rodeo cowboys again.
“I don’t know if Mom could take me. She works a second job on the weekends at Margaret’s.”
“We’ll see what we can do. We can’t have you missing Cheyenne’s big return,” Cooper said as he tied off the last suture. Plus, he wanted to be there to. They’d gone through so much in a short while. He couldn’t imagine missing her triumphant return if it happened. “That’s it. We’re done.”
“That was fast,” Austin said in relief. But as quickly as the big smile spread across his face, it faded. “How much is this gonna cost? Mom’s gonna kill me.”
The boy’s concern drilled into Cooper. Single mom, working two jobs. There couldn’t be much money left after essentials. Ensuring Rufus received shots and heartworm medication would be tough enough. While working for someone else, he couldn’t reduce fees, but now he could help folks like Austin and his mom. “Cheyenne couldn’t we use help cleaning the kennels and the barn?”
Cheyenne smiled, obviously catching his drift. “Say someone working a few hours after school?”
“My thoughts exactly.” Cooper turned to Austin. “I’ll call your mom, tell her what happened, and ask if you and Rufus can come here after school. Once your homework’s done, you can work off the bill. How’s that sound?”
“That would be awesome. Thanks Dr. Abbott. Miz Cheyenne. I’ll work hard for you.”
“I know you will, but if your grades suffer—”
“I’ll keep my grades up, Dr. Abbott. Even language arts. I promise.”
As a vet, collecting strays and adopting animals no one else would was a career hazard. But this new tendency to take on stray and needy humans? That could become a problem since not everyone stuck around.
Cooper held out his hand. “Austin, welcome to the team.”
*
The first thing Cheyenne noticed when her mom dropped
her off after lunch later that afternoon was the paint gelding in the corral with Bruiser and Riley.
When she walked in the house, she looked at Cooper and said, “’Bout time you got a horse. Having a steer for a pet and no horse is just plain wrong. I can’t believe folks haven’t found out and laughed you out of town.”
“Nugget’s a loaner from Ty, but point noted.” Cooper strolled toward her, his gait again reminding her of a horse’s smooth, fluid movements. “I thought we’d go riding this afternoon.”
A warm gooey feeling for both the man and riding bubbled up inside her as she charged across the room. She threw her arms around Cooper’s neck, squeezed, and kissed him on the lips.
Don’t get addicted to that warm gooey stuff because withdrawal stinks, and you’ve never been good at keeping in touch with people you don’t see often. And who says Cooper would be interested in a long-distance thing. Forget about that. No worries and living in the now, remember?
“Seriously? We can go riding?” When Cooper nodded, she released him and continued. “I haven’t been riding since my first seizure. I was going to once, but Mom found out and went ballistic. Can we go now?”
“I’m ready if you are.”
Unable to contain her excitement, she tore outside. Rowdy raced beside her, while Cooper and Penny followed at a slower pace. Glancing over her shoulder, she hollered, “Hurry up, slow pokes.”
After saddling their horses in record time, and Cheyenne throwing on a helmet, she and Cooper set out, the dogs trotting along. “Where should we go?”
“You’re the local. The only places I’ve been are The Horseshoe and Bar 7.”
“What if we start riding, and see where we end up?”
“Lead the way.”
They set out down the drive heading for old highway twenty-three. Once on the narrow, pothole-ridden, two-lane road, they headed right. Despite going slower than she could walk, Cheyenne couldn’t stop grinning. She also couldn’t stop chattering. About who owned the properties they passed, how many kids they had, what crops they grew. About anything that popped in her head.