by Julie Benson
As she gazed at the land around her, land she’d seen more times than she remembered, she saw it through different eyes. Magnificent tree groves surrounded them. In the distance, sunlight bounced off Lake Hope, making the water sparkle like diamonds floated on its surface. Tranquility wafted over her, filling her soul like it never had before.
She chuckled, remembering how she’d claimed a brain tumor changed a person’s vision. “Why didn’t I realize how beautiful the land is around here?”
“Could your opinion have something to do with being on a horse?”
“Maybe.” She patted Riley’s neck. “It feels amazing to be on a horse again, even if a sloth would lap us.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed. You’ve only said that four times in the last two minutes,” Cooper teased.
“Fine. I’ll talk about something else. Did you look at the grooming proposal I put on your desk yesterday?”
“And that’s what you came up with? Shop talk?”
She nodded. “I worked hard on that proposal. I want to know what you think.”
“How did you find time to put it together with all you do at the clinic?”
She frowned and pinned him with a hard stare. “I had lots of free time when someone was avoiding me.”
Not to mention researching and working out the details on adding grooming services kept her mind off her health issues, the upcoming neurosurgeon appointment, and whether she’d be able to return to the rodeo or have to find a new career. Her hands tightened on the reins causing Riley to fidget.
“I guarantee you won’t be able to say that again.” His husky voice paired with his sexy bedroom eyes sent heat blasting through her. Her feminine hormones zoomed into overdrive as images of seeing that look during their lovemaking flashed in her mind.
“You blush the prettiest shade of pink.” He maneuvered Nugget closer. “Want to make this a short ride?”
“No way. You’ll have to hold that thought, cowboy, but I promise to make it up to you, later.” She steered her horse away from his. “Don’t you want to talk about my grooming proposal? Was it that bad?”
“Just the opposite. I was impressed. If I had the funds to redo the space, I’d implement it now.”
His praise washed over her, making her sit higher in the saddle. Never would she have imagined she’d be discussing a business proposal she created. But then, no one else ever saw potential in her or gave her the chance to prove herself the way Cooper had.
“Maybe the bank would give you a loan? I’m sure you could show the increased revenue will pay back the money in no time. I could calculate how many appointments would be needed to repay the cost of modifying the space.”
“Do it. Also post on job boards for groomers. Let’s see who’s out there and if anyone’s a good fit for our team.”
Our team. The words meant long-term. As in being at his office long-term, and the thought left her shaking. “Hold on, there. Remember I’m just a temp. When I post for groomers, I should add you’re looking for an office manager.”
He shrugged. “There’s no rush.”
His lack of concern worried her. She didn’t want him left with no one to help him. He couldn’t run the clinic by himself. “When I meet with the neurosurgeon, if everything’s a go, I could come back with a date for surgery. I don’t want to leave you in a bind. You need time to hire my replacement.” Those last two words burned her ears. The thought of someone else sitting in her chair, at her computer, left her feeling oddly uncomfortable. But she couldn’t work at Cooper’s office and barrel race. “I want to have time to train whoever you hire.”
He waved her off. “Let’s put that discussion off until after your appointment. Enjoy now, remember?”
Having been shut down twice now trying to discuss the subject, Cheyenne let it drop. In fact, she wished she’d never brought up her replacement. The day had been so perfect until she brought up her leaving. Now, instead of talking, they rode in silence.
When they reached Roy Franklin’s ranch, Cheyenne spotted a for-sale sign and paused. She sighed staring at the rusty Wishing Star Ranch sign overhead. “Mr. Franklin going into a nursing home and selling the place that’s been in his family for generations makes me sad.”
Cheyenne stared at the distant barn, envy stirring inside her. In his younger days, Roy raised quarter horses in addition to crops. “You should see the barn! It’s state of the art, with a show-practice arena.”
Cooper laughed. “You’re the only woman I know who sees a ranch and is excited about the barn. Most women would be talking about the house.”
Cheyenne waved her hand through the air. “Who cares about that when a property’s this amazing? Great view, hay fields to feed plenty of animals, garage big enough to hold a truck, tractor, horse trailer and have room left over. Good pasture land, and a pond stocked with trout. What else could a body want?”
“You in the market for a ranch?” Cooper teased.
“Not now, but maybe someday when I have enough money and my times are no longer competitive.”
“Seriously? You’d buy a ranch?”
Her hands tightened on Riley’s reins, and leather creaked as she squirmed in the saddle.
Her horse fidgeted nervously under her. “What happened to my dad taught me to have a backup plan. I’ve never told anyone my idea for when I quit barrel racing.”
But then she’d planned on having a decade or more before she would need her plan. She’d never considered she’d have a brain tumor and seizures that would cause an early retirement.
Don’t even think it. You’ve still got surgery as an option, and if not that, then you’ll keep trying with medicine. No need to go to the back-up plan yet.
“Would you raise horses?” When she hesitated, he said, “You don’t have to tell me.”
He’d trusted her completely with his practice—his future—when he’d had no reason to. Who better to sound out her idea on?
The words describing her plan for life after the rodeo poured out. She wanted to create a school to teach the next generation’s barrel racers. If the school took off, she could hire ex-rodeo cowboys to teach, too. As she spoke, excitement filled her voice, and she visualized what the ranch could become. “During the summer, I’d offer kids’ camps, too. I think there’s great potential for growth by adding other rodeo events.”
A picture of her and Cooper sitting on the front porch, Rowdy and Penny curled up at their feet as they discussed their days, his at the clinic, hers here, popped into her head. A smile curved her lips, and her hands tingled. The sun peeking through the trees above her, shone down on her. For the first time, she saw a man having a permanent place in her life. Not a bad picture if she couldn’t return to the circuit.
“You’ve got a good business head. I don’t see why you couldn’t run a rodeo school and summer camp.”
She smiled, suspecting her face lit up the way the night sky did when fireworks exploded on the Fourth of July. “That means a lot.” Because until his comment and having success running his clinic, she’d never been sure she could pull off the school.
Cooper nodded toward the gate. “You should set up time to look around.”
Her smile disappeared. The plan was for when she grew bored with barrel racing or wasn’t competitive anymore years from now. She would return to the rodeo. It was what she did, who she was, and the damn tumor wouldn’t take it from her. Plus, Wishing? Move back to Wishing permanently? “I’ve never thought about buying a place here.”
At least not until now. Until you.
“Why not?”
“My memories are tied up with Dad dying and high school. If I opened a school here, I’d have to deal with attitudes like Mayor Timmons and people who think all I can do is ride a horse. I’m not sure they’d give me a chance at anything else.”
“Are clients giving you a rough time at the clinic? Do I need to be out in the office more?”
She paused. While some arrived doubtful of her ability, she
hadn’t let them throw her and by the time they left, most did so with a new respect for her. Not only that, but when she and her mom were at the Lucky Star Café today, people treated her differently. Carla Hernandez and Denise Black had stopped by and said they heard she was doing a wonderful job managing Cooper’s office and how lucky he was to have her. Now that she thought about it, she’d seen respect in most people’s gazes. Sure, in the past people admired her, but for what they claimed was her “God-given riding skills and horse-sense.” Today, they respected her as a person. A capable person.
Had part of her problem fitting in been how she expected people to react toward her? What had Aubrey said when she’d complained about how her mom treated her? If she didn’t like how someone treated her, change it. Was that what she’d done since working at the clinic? She expected better from folks?
“A couple people have teased me or given me a hard time, but I handled it.”
Okay, so maybe she could change the way people around here treated her by expecting better of them, but that didn’t mean she could or should move back.
“If you didn’t buy land here, where would you?”
Since leaving high school, she’d seen more of the country competing than most folks did their entire lives. When she thought about buying property, none of those places made exciting visions of what could be tumble through her head the way talking about the Franklin place did. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not a person who gets attached to a place,” she said as she nudged her heels into Riley’s flanks and set off down the road again.
Cooper matched her pace. The soft crunch of hooves on packed Texas gravel echoed around them. The world narrowed until they were the only ones around for miles. Cooper’s gaze zeroed in on her, clear and open with what she now recognized as desire for her. Her heart fluttered.
“For some people, home isn’t a place. It’s a person,” he said.
Oh, those bedroom eyes. Yeah, I could get attached to this man.
Could get? You’re way past that. How are you going to leave Cooper?
She hadn’t thought about how returning to the rodeo meant leaving Cooper. Forget that and the way it makes your stomach hurt. Remember, live in the moment.
Instead, she’d enjoy being on a horse again and being with Cooper. Forget about how when she returned to the rodeo, Cooper could say he wanted nothing to do with a woman who wouldn’t be there when he came home every night. Forget that she might have to choose between her career and a one in a million man who had stood up for her more times than she could count, who made her feel special. Weariness enveloped Cheyenne, along with a deep ache in her chest. She turned to Cooper. “Can we head back? All of a sudden I’m tired.”
*
Cooper had been right. Making love had changed them. Not that Cheyenne minded. In fact, if it weren’t for her seizures becoming more frequent, nervousness over her neurosurgeon appointment, missing the rodeo, and how awful thoughts of leaving Cooper left her feeling, life would be perfect.
Rather than focus on those worries, she tried to concentrate on enjoying her time with Cooper, work, and Austin. Having Austin working after school turned out to be fun, rather than a burden. Having someone to talk to when she tackled cleaning the kennels or the barn, made the job easier. She also discovered she enjoyed teaching him. The boy was a sponge, questioning her or Cooper, desperate to learn whatever he could about animals. She’d started teaching him how to care for horses, and even asked him if he’d help exercise and care for Riley.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake her concerns, especially the ones revolving around Cooper. Their relationship had changed so much. Instead of taking turns cooking, they prepared meals together. Afterward, they’d go for a walk, sit on the porch, or hang around the house. They talked about his plans for the clinic. Sometimes they met Ty and Cassie, AJ and Grace for dinner in town. She’d never imagined being so connected and comfortable to a man. And yet, she didn’t feel she’d lost her independence or herself. And while she enjoyed every moment she spent with him, each one made her achingly aware if she had surgery their relationship would change or worse, end.
What if she returned to the circuit and she lost Cooper? What if she never found this connection with another man? What if he was the one and she wrecked everything for the rodeo?
Stop it. You’re worrying about the last barrel before you’ve even left the gate.
Days flew by until she found herself waiting in the neurosurgeon’s office to learn if surgery was possible. She thought of Aubrey, Cassie, and Grace, who’d all texted her this morning, saying they hoped she received good news. They’d also said if she needed to talk or wanted to get together later, she was to call.
If surgery could return her life to what is was before the seizures, did she want that life back? Did she want to give up what she had now? Friends who checked on her, family she’d started enjoying, and a man who believed in her, trusted her instincts and helped her be more than she ever thought possible?
She’d started to wonder if she could have it all—the rodeo and Cooper. But that would mean he was willing to take a woman who traveled a lot for work. It could happen. People traveled with their jobs all the time but managed to have relationships, even marriages. Why couldn’t she? Sure, she’d have it all, but what about Cooper? Why would he be willing to settle for that?
The door clicked open, pulling her away from her thoughts. As Dr. Tur, a short, skinny man in his fifties, walked in, he introduced himself and held out his hand for her to shake. Then he smiled, commented about how the temperature might hit a new record high today, and asked her how she was doing.
Did he really believe shaking her hand and chitchatting for twenty seconds would make her less uncomfortable, less nervous?
Leather creaked as he sank into his high-backed desk chair. When he flipped through the file on his massive desk, she sat, hands folded on her lap, biting her lip to keep from snapping at him to speed it up. What were her surgery chances?
“I’ve gone over the records your neurologist sent, as well as your scans and tests results.” For the first time since he’d parked himself behind his desk, he made eye contact.
Her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands. “And?” Get on with it!
“I wish I had better news.”
Chapter Fifteen
A chill swept over Cheyenne as if she’d stepped outside during a January ice storm. How could six short words dash so many hopes?
The rest of what the doctor said came to her in patches, occasionally breaking through the fog and anguish clogging her brain. Or maybe that was the tumor short circuiting her thoughts. Who knew?
Would take over eleven hours… complicated because of brain tissue possibly intertwined with tumor… strong chance of losing her sight… possibly ability to speak… getting all the tumor unlikely… advise against surgery.
Then the doctor asked if she had any questions, apologized again for the bad news, and ushered her to the front desk.
As she checked out, Cheyenne struggled against the disappointment and desperation pressing on her chest making it tough to breathe. She’d been holding onto surgery as the way to regain her life. How would she switch gears and to what? Medication wasn’t helping much to control her seizures. Radiation, at best, might reduce the tumor. What the hell was she going to do?
“Are you okay, ma’am? Do you have someone here with you?” the woman behind the counter asked in a practiced sympathetic tone as she handed Cheyenne her receipt.
Oh, Lord. Her mother was with her. Despite their improved relationship, Cheyenne wished she’d taken Cooper up on his offer to come with her. She’d been so sure she’d get good news she never considered how she’d handle the opposite. She needed Cooper’s strength, his support without an interrogation. His focus on her and what she needed.
Cheyenne lifted her chin and bit her lip, refusing to give in to pity or fear. “Yes, someone’s with me. I’m fine.” Or she would be. She
refused to accept less because she was tough.
Damn close to titanium.
She exhaled, clutched the doorknob, plastered a blank look on her face, or what she prayed resembled one, and opened the door to join her mother in the waiting room.
“What did the doctor say?” her mom asked, her face lined with concern.
“Mom, I’m really tired. Can we hold this discussion for later? All I want to do is get in the car and take a nap.”
Her mom patted her arm in a motherly attempt at comfort. Her faint smile told Cheyenne she’d gotten the message that the news had been disappointing. “All right, dear. I won’t press.”
Her mom wouldn’t grill her? They had made progress.
“Just remember you can, really should, get a second opinion, and I’d be saying that no matter what this doctor said.”
Hope rekindled in Cheyenne, easing her chest tightness. Why hadn’t she thought of a second opinion? But what if another doctor gave her different advice? How would she know who to trust? Would she need a third opinion?
Slow down. Take one step at a time.
Cooper would help her sort this out.
On the trip back to Wishing, Cheyenne pretended to sleep until they reached the city limits. When her mother pulled into the driveway at Cooper’s place, she said, “Are you sure you don’t want to come back to the house with me?”
Cheyenne shook her head and thanked her mother for the offer. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Then she slid out of the car.
Inside the house, her gaze landed on Cooper in his recliner in front of the TV, Rowdy curled up on the floor to his left, Penny on the right. Upon spotting her, Penny trotted across the room, and the stress of the day hit Cheyenne like a lightning bolt—unexpected, fast, and devastating.
As she knelt beside Penny, she wrapped her arms around the dog. Soft fur brushed Cheyenne’s face and tickled her nose. She pinched her eyes shut. She wouldn’t let today beat her.