by Julie Benson
After examining Lulabelle’s injury, cleaning and bandaging it, Cooper gave AJ antibiotics, wound care instructions, and assured him the mare would be fine. “If the redness isn’t better tomorrow, text me.”
AJ nodded and patted the mare on the neck. “No more exploring for a while, girl, or you’ll end up looking as bad as Coop here.” AJ hooked a thumb at him. “You look like Bruiser stomped on you a few times before dragging you down Main Street.”
Cooper stared ahead, not really seeing anything in particular, and raked a hand through his hair. “I messed up. Big-time.”
“Cheyenne?”
Cooper nodded. “How’d you know?”
“You look as crappy as I did when I screwed up and told Grace it was over. What happened?”
Cooper filled his friend in, leaving out the intimate details, ending with, “If I called my old man, he wouldn’t talk to me. It seems cruel to get Cheyenne’s hopes up when all it’ll be is an exercise in futility.”
“You’re an ass and an idiot. Whether you could get her an appointment isn’t the point. She thinks she doesn’t matter enough for you to try. I gotta say if I asked you to call your father for me, and you didn’t, I’d be ticked, too.”
Cooper cringed. “Come on, pal. Tell me what you really think.”
“Okay, you want it? Here it is. Over the last few months I’ve learned we’re all trying to live up to something, live something down, or get over something.”
Cooper admitted that could be true with the SeizureReader, but his father? No, way. The day the man disowned him he’d cut whatever ties and feelings had once been there. “You’re wrong. My father has nothing to do with this. I don’t give a damn what he thinks. If I thought asking him to see Cheyenne would help, I’d call. He could dredge up all the old shit he wants, and it wouldn’t bother me one damn bit. I’ve carved out a good life. One I’m proud of, and nothing he says can change that.”
No, he wasn’t a brain surgeon, but what he did mattered. Animals added to a person’s quality of life. Service dogs and therapy equestrian horses changed lives, and he cared for animals allowing them to help their humans.
“Coop, if you could see yourself in a mirror, you’d think different. Your hands are fisted, and there’s a vein bulging in your neck that looks like it’s ’bout to burst.”
Cooper flexed his hands. He inhaled deeply and exhaled to slow his frantic heart rate. Had he only told himself there wasn’t any chance he could get Cheyenne an appointment because he’d been afraid talking to his father would shake his confidence? Had he been scared if they went another round more than his pride would come out dented?
What had he thought a minute ago? No, he wasn’t a brain surgeon, but what he did mattered. He slipped into Cheyenne’s boots and they pinched more than a little. He could see how she felt betrayed. “Damn. Maybe I haven’t come as far as I thought.”
AJ eyed him again. “Is there more to it than your father? Going through this with Cheyenne has to feel like déjà vu all over again.”
Losing Olivia had almost destroyed him, and here was Cheyenne wanting to have brain surgery. Didn’t she understand that despite technological advances, brain surgery was still dangerous? Things went wrong all the time. There were unexpected complications. People had reactions to anesthesia, and despite tests beforehand, surgery results could be far different from a doctor’s expectation.
What if Cheyenne had surgery and he lost her?
This time losing a woman he loved would kill him.
Oh, Lord. Sweat broke out on Cooper’s forehead and the walls closed in around him as the realization burst through him. No more halfway. He was full blown in love with Cheyenne, and he couldn’t have found a woman more wrong. She thrived on the rodeo circuit. Excitement. Challenges. He craved a home base. Routine. Calm.
But none of that mattered right now. His honor and Cheyenne mattered. He needed to fix what he’d done.
Damn. AJ was right. For Cheyenne, Cooper’s greater sin was not trying. It wasn’t about whether he could win the fight. It was about the fact he refused to step in the ring.
“Hell, I’ve messed this up well and good. I am an ass and an idiot.”
“Yup.” AJ thumped him on the back. “The question is, what’re you gonna do about it? I suggest you start with groveling.”
*
Ten minutes later, Cooper stood on the porch of Cheyenne’s mother’s house, feeling as if Bruiser had stomped on him and dragged him down Main Street. Despite that, he was determined to make this right with Cheyenne. To start, he’d admit he was wrong. Even if the chances of succeeding with his father were slim, and most likely would occur only with divine intervention, if he loved her, he had to try to get her an appointment. Not only that, but if he couldn’t get anywhere with his old man, he’d help her find a reliable second opinion, and surgery or not, he’d be there beside her through the journey, provided she’d let him.
And if she slammed the door in his face, he’d still contact his father.
His hands almost numb from clenching his fists, he knocked on the door and waited. Nothing. He knocked again, but when he received the same results, or rather lack of results, he texted Cheyenne. I was wrong. I’m a complete ass. Let me fix this.
Another minute passed and still nothing.
Staring at his phone, Cooper prayed Cheyenne would respond. When she didn’t, he wondered what to do now. If she wouldn’t talk to him even via text, how could he fix this?
Time to put up or shut up and call his father. After returning to his truck and taking a deep, calming breath he called his father’s cell. Big surprise, it rang but the man didn’t answer.
Rather than leaving an easily ignored message on voice mail, Cooper called the office. When a woman named Marcia answered, he said, “This is Cooper Abbott. I’d like to speak to my father.”
A minute later, she returned. “I’m sorry. Your father said I was to tell you unless you’ve come to your senses, he has nothing to say to you.”
Regret and embarrassment filled the woman’s voice. Bastard. How dare the man force an employee to deliver that message? If he possessed any decency, he would’ve had his staff say he was with a patient to save her from the unpleasant task, but not his father. Having Cooper clearly understand his displeasure was what mattered.
Too damn bad because Cooper didn’t care, and if his old man thought he could get rid of him that easy, he was in for enlightenment. But first, Cooper called Shawna to reschedule his day’s appointments. As an apology for the last-minute notice, he instructed her to tell people he’d waived the office visit charge for rescheduled visits. That done, he set out for Houston.
A little over three hours later, Cooper stepped onto the fifth floor of an office building at Houston Methodist Hospital medical complex. The building fit his father. Marble floors. Floor-to-ceiling glass wall. Cool, soothing colors. Tasteful, understated artwork. Exactly the image his father would want to portray. After checking the signage for directions, Cooper turned right from the elevator and froze.
Further down the hallway was a woman with fiery auburn hair, an assertive stride and a dog exactly like Penny. He blinked, figuring if he was hallucinating the image would disappear, but it didn’t. He sped up. Cheyenne had come to see his father. Probably because she couldn’t get an appointment. Cooper knew what he’d face and how unpleasant it would be, but he couldn’t let Cheyenne incur his father’s wrath.
He had to protect her. “Cheyenne?”
The woman kept walking, but he thought she flinched. However, the teenager beside her spun around and walked toward him. Except for having hazel eyes instead of Cheyenne’s spring green and her hair being more brown than red, the resemblance was striking. He suppressed a grin. While not as confident, the girl’s stride mimicked Cheyenne’s. No doubt about it. This had to be her younger sister.
“Cooper?” He nodded, and she continued. “I’m Cheyenne’s sister, Sheridan.”
“Traitor,” Cheyenne snappe
d, spinning around so fast she almost tripped. Hands crossed over her chest, she stormed back. Her stare zeroed in, eyeing him the way a blue jay did a grasshopper. But there was hurt and disappointment in her eyes. Her gorgeous, honest eyes always gave away what she felt, no matter how hard she tried to hide her emotions. He loved that about her.
“I don’t know why you’re here, and I don’t care, so how ’bout you turn around and leave?” Cheyenne barked.
“We stand a better chance—”
“How can I make this clearer?” Her voice grew louder. Her face flushed, she stepped close enough that her chest, rising and falling at a frantic rate with her rapid breathing, nearly brushed his. “How’s this? I don’t want to see you again. Ever.”
Her words and the force of her anger, both well deserved, pelted his skin.
Sheridan grabbed Cheyenne’s arm. “Please don’t get so upset.”
Cooper stood there torn between leaving to keep from upsetting Cheyenne further and protecting her from his father’s wrath. “I was wrong. Let me do the right thing now and talk to my father for you.”
“I guess you expect me to say better late than never, and all is forgiven?”
“Actually, I don’t.”
“Good, because it ain’t happening, that’s for sure, and in case there’s still a misunderstanding, I don’t want your help. Go away.” Then Cheyenne stalked off with Penny.
He moved to follow her, but Sheridan placed her hand on his arm stopping him. “I’m glad you’re here. When she couldn’t get an appointment, she got so upset I can’t believe she didn’t have a seizure. I’m worried what’ll happen if she doesn’t see your father. Please do whatever you can to help.”
Cooper nodded and they followed Cheyenne into his father’s office.
“Do I need to call security to make you leave me alone?” Cheyenne barked before the door closed behind him.
“Cheyenne, I think Cooper’s right. Your chances are better if—”
“You’re taking his side? How can you after what I told you?” Cheyenne’s voice filled with equal measures of disappointment and anger echoed around them.
The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with thick glasses and hair tied into a tight bun, leaned over the half wall counter separating the office from the waiting room.
Brows furrowed, she said, “I don’t know what the problem is, but either calm down or leave.”
“Marcia?” Cooper asked, stepping forward. When the woman nodded, he introduced himself. “We spoke earlier. I’m here to see my father.”
“No, you’re not.”
Cooper shook his head in frustration. He’d always admired Cheyenne’s stick-to-it, never-give-up attitude, but right now it was a huge pain in his ass. “I know what my father’s like. You don’t. He’s not going to be happy we’re here. Let me deal with him so you don’t get hurt.”
“Come on. Admit you were exaggerating. Your father can’t be as bad as you said.”
“My father, the world-renowned neurosurgeon, said he’d only pay for college if I became a doctor. When I left for A&M, he called me a family disappointment and said I was failing to live up to my potential. Then to drive his point home, he disowned me, and said not to come home or call until I came to my senses.” Cooper’s body tensed, his voice filled with sarcasm, and his heart hammered harder than the bass drum during the “Aggie War Hymn.” He shoved his sweaty hands in his pockets. “After I put myself through college, I called him. He refused to answer the phone, but I left a message inviting him to my graduation. I never heard from him, and he didn’t attend my graduation from college or vet school.”
When Cooper’s booming voice faded, gasps sounded behind him. He’d forgotten they were in an office. He’d never lost control like this before.
“You’re upsetting the other patients, and neither one of you is seeing Dr. Abbott,” Marcia said, her voice and face tight with panic. “Leave immediately or I’ll call security.”
“What is going on, Marcia? I heard raised voices in my office. With the door closed.” Though low and even, irritation rang in his father’s voice.
“I’m sorry you were disturbed, Dr. Abbott. I have the situation under control,” Marcia said.
“If that were the case, I wouldn’t be here.”
The receptionist flinched at the disapproval in his father’s tone. “I’ll fix the problem immediately.”
Cooper peered around the wall at the man he hadn’t spoken to in years. He shoved aside the childhood memories clawing at his self-confidence, reminding him how nothing he’d ever done had earned praise from this hard man. He straightened and rocked back on his heels. No, not today.
This arrogant ass wouldn’t get to him today. “Hello, Dad. Got a minute to talk?”
His father’s chin rose, and he tugged on the cuff of his tailored baby-blue dress shirt. “I thought the message I gave Marcia to deliver earlier was quite clear.” He turned his laser vision on the receptionist. “You did as I instructed, correct?”
“Yes, Doctor. I delivered your message word for word.”
Cooper swallowed hard and resisted the urge to shift his stance. He refused to let this obdurate man intimidate him. “Guess you wish you’d taken my call now, because I’m not going anywhere until we talk.”
Chapter Seventeen
Cheyenne pushed past Cooper and smiled at his father. Penny pawed at her leg, but she brushed her aside. “Cooper thinks he speaks for me, but he doesn’t. I’m the one who needs to speak with you.”
“I think I should—” Cooper said.
“Will you two stop? Your arguing isn’t helping. Look around,” Sheridan yelled in frustration as she waved her hand around the waiting room. The room’s other occupants, an elderly couple, hands clutched together as they sat huddled on the linen love seat, stared at them in horror and embarrassment.
Cooper’s father disappeared and the waiting room door flew open. The tendons in his neck bulging and his nostrils flaring, he motioned them forward. “How dare you make a scene in front of my patients.” He hissed as he pointed to the open office door down the hall. “Go.”
After joining them there, his father settled in his black leather desk chair at a massive mahogany desk. Behind him rested a matching wall unit housing books and numerous awards. On the opposite wall, artfully arranged, resided his father’s prized Japanese sword collection. Power, wealth, and dominance conveyed in one collection.
Cooper sat in the oversized armchair with Cheyenne in a matching one beside him, while Sheridan sat on a leather couch and tried to blend into the far wall. Penny circled Cheyenne’s chair a couple times before settling on the floor between them.
“I brought you in here to avoid a bigger scene.” His father’s voice dripped with arrogant irritation.
No “it’s good to see you.” No concern that a major disaster had brought Cooper here after so long with no contact. No concern for anything but appearances.
His father’s condescending gaze focused on Cheyenne. “And you, young lady. If you wanted to speak with me, this was not the appropriate way to do so.”
Cheyenne’s cheeks reddened at the rebuke and she picked at the seam of her jeans. “I apologize for letting my temper get the best of me, but please, Dr. Abbott—”
“You can say whatever you want about me,” Cooper said, interrupting Cheyenne’s apology, “but show Cheyenne the respect you would any other patient coming to you for help.”
“So that’s how it is? You’ve found another lost puppy. Does this one need a neurosurgeon, too?”
Sheridan gasped.
“Now, wait a minute—” Cheyenne sputtered.
“Yes, I’m here because Cheyenne needs a neurosurgeon.”
His father leaned back in his chair and smiled, though not one of amusement. Rather it was one of a man about to gloat. Cooper braced.
“You never took my advice. You refused to follow in my footsteps, and yet here you are, asking for my help.”
“At least
evaluate Cheyenne’s case. She needs a second opinion she can trust. Do it for me because I want her to see the best neurosurgeon possible, and that’s you.”
Damn. Saying the words hurt worse than admitting the University of Texas had a good football team.
Eyes like ones he saw in the mirror, stared back at Cooper. Only these were hard and unmoved by his request. “I am the best, but as far as I’m concerned, we have nothing to say to each other unless you fix the mess you’ve made of your life.”
“Same unbending, it’s-my-way-or-the-highway father—”
“Mess of his life? Are you crazy?” Cheyenne said. “Your son put himself through college and vet school. He’s put together a group of investors and carried on Olivia’s work to get a device to help seizure patients into production, and now he’s opened his own practice. What father wouldn’t be proud of a son like that?”
“One who expected more considering the gifts Cooper was given. He could’ve had a brilliant career in medicine,” his father responded.
“What I do takes more skill than human medicine. Unlike your patients, mine can’t tell me where they hurt or what their symptoms are. I have to work harder to get at a diagnosis.”
“Then it’s an even bigger shame your talents are wasted on animals.”
Cooper’s right eyelid twitched. He resisted the urge to still the movement. “Well, here’s a news flash. You get to live your life. You don’t get to live mine.”
Pride at his accomplishments surged through him as he stared at his supercilious father, who cared more about his reputation and advancing neurosurgery than helping someone his son loved. Sorrow for the man followed. He’d missed so much of life’s joys because of his stubbornness, his need to be right, and most importantly his need to control his son’s life. That was his choice, and Cooper couldn’t change the fact. Nor should he take responsibility for his father being a heartless bastard.
That was it. Like the Tin Man in the Wizard of Oz, my old man lacks a heart. All he’s got is a Texas-sized ego.