Bet on a Cowboy

by Julie Benson

  “It’s so beautiful here,” Olivia sighed. “Think of all the romantic horseback rides we could take. That would be so relaxing after a long day in court.”

  “Right after we finished all our chores.”

  Maggie snickered when the bachelorette wrinkled her nose at that.

  Leaves rustled and branches crackled, and a deer darted out of the brush. The sleek animal shot in front of Olivia’s horse. The woman shrieked and dropped the reins.

  On cue, the cameramen stopped to film.

  “Stay calm,” Griffin instructed, his voice level but stern. “Reach down and pick up the reins,”

  “I can’t. I’ll fall.” Instead, Olivia leaned forward and wrapped her fingers in the mare’s mane. The horse shook its head, trying to get out of the death grip.

  “Ginger is a sweet girl. She’s not going anywhere.” Griffin maneuvered his horse beside Olivia’s and reached for the dangling reins. Then his mount swerved, bumping into the other animal. Ginger whinnied and tried to skitter out of his reach.

  “Help me.” Olivia’s shrill voice combined with her yanking on the mane made the mare even more nervous.

  “Everything’s fine.” As Griffin scooted closer and reached for Ginger’s reins again, Olivia lunged for him, grabbing his shirt. His horse, unnerved by the sudden movement, bit the other animal, then reared.

  “Let go of him!” Maggie yelled.

  He tumbled to the ground, landing in a heap.

  “Griffin!” she cried.

  Maggie vaulted off her horse. Griffin hadn’t moved. What if he’d hit his head on a rock? People died from head trauma.

  She told herself not to panic. He hadn’t hit a tree or fallen down the mountain. He’d be all right. When she knelt beside him, she pressed a finger to the vein in his neck, finding his pulse throbbing, strong and steady. As she said a rushed prayer of thanks, the second cameraman joined her.

  “Shut that thing off,” Maggie ordered. She nodded toward Griffin’s date, who’d somehow managed to stay in her saddle. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, but how’s Griffin?”

  “His pulse is strong, but he’s unconscious.” Maggie turned to the cameraman beside Olivia. “Take the reins and lead her back to the ranch.”

  As they left Maggie pulled out her iPhone, but realized she hadn’t programmed the numbers for any of Griffin’s family. Remembering his concern for his mother’s health, Maggie said to the remaining cameraman, “Return to the ranch. Don’t tell Griffin’s mom what’s happened. Tell Rory. If you can’t find him, find his sister, Avery. Now go.”

  “Damn, you’re bossy, woman.”

  Maggie closed her eyes in relief. Nothing had ever sounded better than Griffin’s wisecrack.

  “Thank God, you’re awake. Do you hurt anywhere?”

  “I can’t feel my legs.” His usually strong voice rattled with fear.

  Griffin’s words pounded in Maggie’s ears. Remain calm. Don’t fall apart. Don’t let him see how worried you are. “Stay still. You’ll be okay.”

  Her hand shaking, she dialed 911. When the dispatcher answered, Maggie fought to keep her voice steady. “We need an ambulance at Twin Creeks Ranch.” She looked at Griffin. “Where are we?”

  Maggie relayed the information that they were on the short western trail about a mile or so in, and continued answering the dispatcher’s questions. Yes, Griffin was conscious and alert, but he’d been out for a couple of minutes. When asked about his injuries, she bit her lip as she fought to harness her emotions. “He can’t feel his legs.”

  “Don’t move him. An ambulance is on the way.”

  After ending the call, she glanced at Griffin. His face was pale and drawn, and he looked vulnerable and shaken. “Help is on the way. I bet by the time you get to the hospital, the feeling will have returned to your legs.”

  He grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. “No, it won’t. After the car accident, the doctors told me if I ever fell again, I could end up permanently paralyzed.”

  What? How could he have forgotten to mention that bit of information? Maggie forced herself to push aside her irritation over his bullheaded pride. Now wasn’t the time to deal with that issue.

  She refused to acknowledge the possibility he might not walk again, and wouldn’t allow him to, either. “I think the key word in your statement is could. That means that you could just as well walk out of the hospital.”

  “I’m lying here injured, and you’re lecturing me? Will you ever cut me a break, woman?”

  That’s the man she wanted to see—the one who gave as good as she dished out. “Probably not. What fun would that be?”

  “So not only are you lecturing me, you’re getting pleasure out of it.” His eyelids flickered again.

  She squeezed his hand. “Don’t you dare fall asleep on me. That would be rude, even for you.”

  She needed to keep him talking, but about what? Not his rodeo career. That would upset him. How about his family? She thought of the photo shoot and what he’d said about Rory and his job. “You said your brother complained about modeling, but you thought it was easy. Tell me about that.”

  “I’ve never had as much fun as I did the couple of days they shot the commercial here.” Griffin laughed and then grimaced.

  He proceeded to tell her how his camera-shy brother had filmed a commercial with the whole town watching. Periodically, when Griffin’s voice started to fade, she squeezed his hand and asked another question.

  When they exhausted that topic, he asked about her brothers. She told him she didn’t see them often because they had busy lives. Though they emailed and texted each other, she’d been pretty much on her own since their mother’s death.

  Agonizingly long minutes later the paramedics arrived, carrying a backboard, Rory with them.

  “Heard you took a fall,” the dark-haired EMT said as he knelt beside Griffin. “I’m tired of getting called out to Twin Creeks because something’s happened to one of you McAlisters.”

  “Brandon, it’s the damnedest thing. I landed hard, but I didn’t hit anything that should’ve caused any real damage. Yet I can’t feel my legs.”

  The paramedic slipped off Griffin’s jacket, shoved up his shirtsleeve and placed the blood pressure cuff on his arm. “Leave it to you to find a way to get hurt.”

  Now that Maggie had moved away from Griffin, chills chased through her. She wrapped her arms around her middle to ward off the cold. As the paramedics checked Griffin’s vitals, panic returned to his eyes when he glanced her way. Not wanting to worry him, she flashed him a bright, hopefully reassuring smile.

  Please let the paralysis be temporary.

  What would he do if he couldn’t… She bit her lip and forced herself to think positively.

  “He’s tough,” Rory said as he stood beside her.

  “From what I hear, that’s a family trait.” Maggie swiped her hand over her eyes. “Did Olivia make it to the ranch?”

  “I had the cameraman drive her back to the cabin.”

  “How’s your mom handling the news? Griffin told me she has cancer.”

  “She’s worried, but she’s holding up.”

  “I’m so sorry about this. If I’d known what the doctors said, I—”

  “It’s not your fault. I told Griff this morning it was a bad idea, but he blew off my concerns.”

  She glanced to where Griffin lay. A paramedic slipped a neck collar on him. Then the EMTs worked to slide him on the bright yellow backboard. He looked oddly fragile as they fastened the straps to keep him in place.

  Fragile and frightened.

  * * *

  GRIFFIN WOKE UP in the hospital, his head fuzzy with a sick sense of déjà vu. Groggily, he focused on his body. His shoulders and neck ached, but he could move them. Cuts and scrapes marked his arms, but they worked fine, too. He twisted from side to side and some of his panic receded. Everything above his waist seemed okay.

  Then he tried to move his legs. Nothing. His he
art pounded as fear spiraled through him. He still couldn’t feel his legs.

  Anger washed over him at life’s unfairness. He’d given up his rodeo career. Wasn’t that enough? This shouldn’t be happening. He hadn’t been chasing around the mountains at breakneck speed. A bull hadn’t thrown him. He hadn’t fallen on anything that should’ve caused major damage. Would the paralysis be permanent this time?

  What little life he had was probably shot to hell.

  The door swung open and his mom walked in, her eyes red and swollen. She rushed to his bedside and clutched his hand. He read the bad news in her gaze, but asked anyway. “What’s the doctor say?”

  “Right now you need to rest and save your strength. You can talk to the doctor later.”

  “Mom, tell me what he said. I have the right to know.”

  “We won’t know the extent of your injury until the swelling goes down. He’s scheduled you for an MRI, but the swelling and fluid could mask any damage to your spinal cord.”

  “Does he think I’ll walk again?”

  “He said there’s no way to know, but it’s not uncommon for someone in your case to get partial or almost full recovery.”

  “But what if there’s more than just swelling?” What if he ended up with permanent spinal cord damage?

  His heart sank. Since quitting the rodeo he hadn’t helped the family much financially, but now they might have to hire a ranch hand to replace him permanently. He could become a complete burden.

  The reality of what his life would be crashed into him. He’d thought giving up the rodeo had been hard. That was nothing compared to facing life in a wheelchair.

  “Mom, I want to be alone.”

  “Griffin Ryan McAlister, don’t you dare give up.” Her use of his full name meant she was spitting mad.

  He managed a weak smile. “I’m not giving up, Mom. I’m just tired.”

  “I’ve always been able to tell when you’re lying, and now’s no different.”

  He couldn’t muster up the energy to deny her assessment.

  “One thing I’ve learned fighting cancer is that staying positive is fifty percent of the battle. If you give up, your body will, too, and I didn’t raise you to be a quitter.”

  * * *

  THE MORNING AFTER Griffin’s accident, Maggie sat in her cabin wishing she could turn back the clock twenty-four hours. Instead of riding the trails, she’d have Griffin and his date tour the Estes Park Brewery or go bowling, or even shopping if she couldn’t arrange anything else. But she didn’t have a time machine, and Griffin lay in the hospital unable to feel his legs, because of her.

  First thing this morning, Nannette had updated her on Griffin’s condition. The doctors couldn’t tell whether he’d be permanently paralyzed or not until the swelling went down. She’d added that Griffin didn’t want the finalists to visit. According to Nannette, he said there were enough people hanging around, counting the ceiling tiles and playing Angry Birds. He didn’t need more.

  After her call, Maggie relayed the information to Stacy and Olivia. They’d both been genuinely concerned for Griffin, but within five minutes, their questions turned to how this would affect them and the finale. Maggie explained that everything depended on Griffin’s prognosis, even though she wanted to scream at them for their self-centered attitudes and lack of real compassion.

  That unpleasant task done, and feeling mentally and physically exhausted, Maggie had given in to her need for a nap. Now somewhat refreshed, she decided to tackle the next chore on her to-do list: call her producer.

  “Mark, I need to apprise you of what happened yesterday.” The vision of Griffin tumbling to the ground flashed in her mind, bringing with it the raw fear she’d felt. She bit her lip until she regained control of her emotions. “Griffin and a finalist went horseback riding. Her horse got spooked and she couldn’t control the animal. In trying to help her, Griffin fell.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “As of this morning, he couldn’t feel his legs, but his life isn’t in danger.”

  “Tell the family we’ll pay for anything insurance doesn’t cover, and tactfully remind Griffin he signed a liability waiver.”

  “His actions saved the bachelorette from being injured, possibly seriously.” If the silly woman hadn’t grabbed Griffin and refused to let go, everything would’ve been fine.

  Good thing Maggie and Mark weren’t talking in person, because in her current mood she’d hurl everything within reach at his head. She knew business churned on no matter what, but the producer’s detachment bordered on robotic.

  “I’m thinking we should postpone the finale,” Maggie said, knowing what Mark would say.

  “It’s over two weeks away. Let’s wait and see what happens in the next few days. If Griffin’s doctors give the okay, we’ll go with the finale as scheduled. In fact, if he’s in a wheelchair, it could be a real ratings buster.”

  Crass ratings whore!

  A click in Maggie’s ear indicated another call was coming in. Thankful for the excuse to end their conversation, she told Mark she’d keep him updated.

  “Maggie?” Nannette’s voice broke over the line as soon as she answered. “I need you to come to the hospital.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Griffin’s doing a little better physically. The doctor said the swelling’s gone, and he wiggled his toes today.”

  “If Griffin’s improving, why do you sound so worried?” Maggie asked.

  “He’s not doing well emotionally. He’s giving up. I see it in his eyes.”

  “I don’t know what I can do.”

  “Come to the hospital, and we’ll talk,” Nannette pleaded.

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  When Maggie walked into the medical facility, she felt like skipping through the hallways. Griffin could move his toes. That had to be a good sign. She prayed he would continue to improve, and that he’d be walking soon.

  When she reached the information desk, Nannette stood waiting, and led her to a cluster of chairs in a nearby corner. “I’m worried about Griffin. I’ve never seen him so down. Not even after his first accident.”

  “It sounds like he’s dealt with a lot over the last few years. And now this.”

  It was all Maggie’s fault. If she hadn’t suggested horseback riding, Griffin would be fine now instead of lying in a hospital bed.

  “That’s just it. He’s not coping. He’s shutting everyone out. I don’t know what will happen if he gives up.”

  What could she do? Griffin hadn’t listened to any advice she gave him since they’d met. If anything, he often did the opposite to spite her. “I don’t think my talking to him is a good idea. In case you haven’t noticed, we disagree a lot. My seeing him would only make him angry.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m counting on. He needs someone to slap him upside the head. You can make him feel something, and anger’s as good a place as any to start. No matter what you say, I know there’s something special between you two, and he won’t shut you out.”

  “We’re good friends, but—”

  Nannette waved her hand in the air, dismissing Maggie’s token denial. “All you’re doing is wasting your breath. I’ve seen my son around more women than I can count, and he’s never treated one of them with the respect and reverence he does you.”

  For a second Maggie gave in to the thrill of hearing Nannette’s words. But then she remembered how Griffin had acted on his last date. The way he’d kissed Stacy hadn’t looked like torture. “If you think that, then you haven’t seen him making out with the finalists.”

  “Nonsense, that’s all for the show. Griffin’s different than my other two children. They both wear their hearts on their sleeve. Griffin always kept what he felt under wraps. When I watch you two together, I see him being himself. He opens up to you. He trusts you. “

  And I’ve betrayed his trust in the worst way imaginable by lying to him about the baby.

  Nannette took Maggie’s hand in
hers. “I need you to talk to Griffin. Something tells me you can get through to him.”

  “I can’t. Surely if the family—”

  “We’ve all tried. He got so mad at Rory he tossed the water pitcher at him. My oldest son has a black eye to prove it. Griffin yelled at Avery, and of course, she yelled back. When the nurses got complaints from other patients, they ordered her to leave. With me, he won’t say anything.”

  Even if Nannette was wrong about their relationship, what if Maggie could pull him out of his funk? Didn’t she owe it to Griffin to try?

  Tears welled in his mother’s eyes. “The doctor wants him to start physical therapy, but he’s refusing. If he’s ever going to walk again, he has to go. Please? You have to try. I don’t know what else to do.”

  * * *

  GRIFFIN IGNORED THE KNOCK on the door. The doctors and nurses knocked and then barged in. No action meant a visitor. If he pretended he was asleep, maybe whoever it was would go away.

  He’d suffered enough of his family’s pep talks, their poor-Griffin looks and their excitement over him being able to move his toes. So what? The doctors still couldn’t guarantee he’d walk again.

  After the third knock, he snapped, “Get lost.”

  The door swung open and Maggie stormed in, her soft hair bouncing against her shoulders. The fire in her eyes told him she was spoiling for a fight. She looked too good for words.

  He longed to charge across the room and pull her into his arms, but he couldn’t. He physically couldn’t.

  “Go away. I’m not up to having visitors.” When she stood there as if she intended to put down roots, he reached for the call button. “If you don’t leave, the nurse will throw you out.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  “They made Avery leave yesterday.”

  “That was because you two were disturbing other patients. You won’t get me to lose my temper. Plus, your mom sent me in here to talk some sense into you, so she’s got my back. The nurses aren’t tough enough, or foolish enough, to take on Nannette.”

  “Fine. Mom wanted you to talk to me. You have. Now get the hell out of my room.”