“Hon, please.”
But it was pointless. Travis was lost in his own personal hell—a hell that started and ended with the one bull no man could ride.
“June!” Paulo yelled. For the first time, she heard the sheer panic in his voice. If Mitch died while she was out here trying to reason with Travis—
Damn it all. “I’ll be right inside, Travis. I’ll come back out, okay? I gotta go—Paulo—”
“What am I gonna tell his momma?” was the last thing she heard Travis mumble before the bay doors closed behind her.
Somebody was going to have to tell Caroline something, and soon.
That ride had been on live TV.
* * *
FOR ONCE, TIME seemed to be moving in the opposite direction.
Normally, eight seconds of watching June or Mitch or Randy seemed like a painful eternity as Travis hoped they’d walk away from another ride.
Not this time. The clock above the hospital waiting room was telling Travis that he and June had been sitting in these chairs for close to thirteen hours. Those thirteen hours had seemed like seven seconds. Seven seconds that ended in intensive care.
June twitched on his arm. He wasn’t sure when she’d fallen asleep, but he thought maybe she’d nodded off a couple of hours ago. She’d done her best to stay calm and focused, which was good, because someone needed to be the adult here and Travis wasn’t up to the job right now.
When the nurse had come out to say they’d stabilized Mitch, the three of them had tromped back to where Mitch was hooked up to more machines than God and they’d all said nice things to him.
Well, Travis had tried. At the sight of what had been one of his best friends, Travis had suddenly been staring down a long black hole of death. At the end, there was a hospital bed and tubes and machines that beeped to remind him he was still alive.
He’d heard that when people died—or almost died—they often floated above their bodies, watching everything that doctors did to them. That’s what it felt like right now. The rational part of his brain knew that wasn’t him there in that bed.
But his body—the mesh, the rods, the scars—didn’t see the difference. His body began to ache in ways that Travis had almost forgotten about.
He’d been there once. He couldn’t go back again.
The best he’d been able to manage was “Mitch, we’re here waiting. We’ll be here waiting,” because that was what he’d wanted—someone to wait for him.
So here they all sat, waiting, as the clock lied about the time.
He was glad June was asleep. She’d broken down after they’d been politely shooed out of the room that held the tangle of tape and flesh that was Mitch. It killed Travis that he couldn’t make it better. When she’d collapsed into his arms and sobbed, he’d sobbed with her.
Mitch was still alive, and that was good news. So why was Travis so damn mad at him?
Because the moron hadn’t listened. Travis had tried to tell him. No Man’s Land was not a bull to be taken lightly, and Mitch had done just that. He hadn’t seen a monster of an animal, but a quick buck to make.
Travis had tried to warn him. Serves Mitch right, he thought. I told him. This is what he gets for not listening.
Of course, as he was thinking it, Travis looked over to Paulo and immediately felt even worse than he had before. The man hadn’t moved since the last Mitch update—not even to blink. But he was waiting.
Barb hadn’t waited for Travis to live or die. He wasn’t sure if that woman had even bothered to come to the hospital. If—no, when—Mitch woke up, he wouldn’t be alone. Not like Travis had been.
Somehow, that made him even madder at the hand Fate was dealing. Vegas was fast outranking Florida as his least favorite place on the planet.
That was before Mitch’s momma walked into the waiting room.
She’d been crying, that much was obvious. Everyone had. But on her, it looked harder. Now, she looked less like a sister, and more like a mother.
Suddenly, Travis was glad his own mother hadn’t lived to see his wreck. It might have killed her, just as this was surely taking a few years off Mitch’s momma’s life. Damn that man for putting the woman in this position.
“Paulo,” she choked out, and the two of them threw their arms around each other. “Oh, honey.”
God, it hurt to watch. Rationally, he knew this wasn’t a contest—who loved who more, who suffered what more. But he couldn’t help but feel horrible all over again. He’d had no one. And Mitch—that rat bastard of a smart aleck—had everyone. Even Travis’s woman was here, waiting on Mitch.
“Travis,” Mrs. Jenner said, her tearstained voice muffled in Paulo’s neck, “thanks so much for calling. I got here as soon as I could.”
He’d called her? Huh. No memory of that.
“Oh, June,” Mrs. Jenner started, and everyone was crying again.
The clock just flat out stopped moving. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. So when Mark Soleus walked in, it was a relief. He remembered that Mark had checked on him, too. He hadn’t been totally alone. Just mostly.
Plus, now there was a guy in the room who wasn’t crying. That was a step in the right direction.
“How is he?” Mark said, casting a wary eye to the mourners.
“Stable, they said, but not out of the woods.” At least Travis thought that was what June had said the nurse had said the doctor had said. Nothing like fourth-hand medical updates.
“Is that his mother, then? Or his sister?”
“Mother.”
Mark waited until Mrs. Jenner and June let go of each other. “Mrs. Jenner, I’m Mark Soleus, with the TCB. Please accept my condolences for your son’s accident.”
“He’s not dead yet. I don’t want any condolences,” she replied as she wiped her nose on her sleeve. Travis couldn’t help but give her a funny look. That was—hands down—the meanest thing he’d ever heard the woman say. At least Travis wasn’t the only one angry at the whole thing.
Mark seemed to take that in stride. “The TCB will be helping to cover a portion of the medical costs for Mitch, ma’am. And the bull’s owner has pledged ten thousand dollars.”
Since when? Travis had gotten no money from that man.
Mark must have picked up mind-reading along the way, because he leaned over and whispered, “They started that for the guy after you. Sorry.”
Right.
“Ten thousand dollars? Do you have any idea how much this is going to cost?” she snipped. Between the red eyes, the runny nose and the righteous anger, it was clear—Mrs. Jenner was ugly mad. Mitch’s momma needed someone to take this out on and Mark was just the person. “Travis, how much did it cost you?” she demanded.
Crap. “North of a million by the time I declared bankruptcy, ma’am. After that, they quit trying to get anything else out of me.” June gasped in shock. He could see the way that registered on her face—worse than getting gored by a bull. The pain she felt for him was real.
She could talk a good game about how she was thankful for that bull crushing him because otherwise, she never would have gotten her shot with him, but this was different. Now she’d seen exactly what that bull had done to his body—to Mitch’s body, he corrected himself—and now she knew exactly how low that damn bull had brought him.
“A million.” For a second, Mrs. Jenner’s face threatened to crumble. Travis knew what was going through her mind. That pretty house and the land that went with it would be gone before Mrs. Jenner could even finish packing up the boxes.
At least Travis had only bankrupted himself. For the first time, he saw that being completely alone after his wreck might have been a blessing. He’d never managed to break his mother’s heart, never managed to drive his father into the ground with the enormity of taking care of him. He
’d screwed up and he’d paid the price all by himself.
But Mitch? Mitch was going to take his momma down with him. Caroline wouldn’t leave her only son to twist in the wind, no matter how much the twerp deserved it. She’d put everything she had into taking care of him and it would break her. Travis didn’t have a doubt about that.
Caroline could see it, too. “I see. And where am I supposed to come up with that sort of money?”
Mark was ready for her. That’s why he was where he was today. “The TCB can set up a trust for his medical bills.”
“And money will just come pouring in, will it?” No, Mrs. Jenner didn’t harbor any illusions about what lay ahead of her. “Sounds great. You do that, Mr. Soleus. Until then, leave my boy in peace.”
“Of course,” Mark said, nodding deferentially. But before he left, he grabbed Travis’s arm and pulled him to the side. “I know this isn’t the place for congratulations, but the TCB is impressed with your third-place finish. I’ve got an interview scheduled for one this afternoon about No Man’s Land, and we’re—”
“No.” That was the last damn thing he wanted to do.
“What do you mean, no?”
“Exactly what I said. The TCB can shove their third-place finish, Mark. I’m not doing this anymore.”
Mark’s eyes bugged out as he hauled Travis farther away from everyone else. “This is just an interview, Travis! Come on!”
“No, you come on. How many more hospital visits are you going to make, huh? How much longer before it’s a funeral? I won’t be a part of it.”
“You’re just going to walk away?”
“While I can still walk, you bet your ass I am.”
Mark’s eyes went from buggy to slits in a heartbeat. “You forfeit your spot, June goes in. She finished fourth.”
That’s what he wanted anyway, Travis knew. Mark wanted June to keep on rolling through to the big show. “You talk to her about that. All I know is I’m done. I’ve got a life waiting for me. I don’t have to do this anymore.”
The moment the words left his mouth, a sense of rightness filled him. As soon as they left this hospital, he was going to marry June and they were going to get as far away from Vegas as humanly possible.
“Fine. You’ll get your check and then you’re out. Have it your way. But I’m talking to June.”
“Good luck with that.” She’d seen his scars. She’d seen the machines breathing for Mitch. She had a life waiting back in South Dakota, too. She had him, and that should be enough for her.
Travis stuck out his hand and Mark shook it. “Next time, old dog. Good luck.”
Next time, he’d be a stock contractor, not a rider. “See you on the flip side,” Travis said.
This was all going to work out.
* * *
“YOU WANT TO do what?”
June took a deep breath. She knew Mark was an old friend of Travis’s, but his reaction didn’t bode well. “I want to ride No Man’s Land.”
Just saying it out loud felt like cardiac arrest.
Mark stood there, jaw down around his ankles. “But—but—Travis will kill me if I let you on that bull!”
And, after all this time, she was right back where she’d started.
The hackles went up on the back of her neck. No one “let” her do anything. “I’m getting on that bull, and that’s that.”
“But—”
“The only condition is you can’t tell Travis.” As she said it, a wave of nausea hit her. She ignored it. The longer she could keep it from him, the less time he’d have to try something stupid, like locking her in the hotel room. “And I’ll need a helmet.”
“But—you’ll get killed!”
She was going to ride that bull. She was going to make the time, and she was going to walk away. She knew she could do it. She’d give the winnings to Mitch’s fund, and she’d use the airtime she was going to get to plead for more. She was sure she wouldn’t wind up like Mitch. Well, pretty sure.
And when she rode No Man’s Land, then everyone would know that she wasn’t stupid or useless or crazy. This was who she was and this was what she was born to do. She could ride any bull she drew. Including No Man’s Land.
The way Travis had said, After that, they quit trying to get anything out of me, had hurt her worse than any broken ankle ever had. She knew exactly how it felt to be so poor that people didn’t even bother to try. Hell, that pretty much described her entire life. Every day had been a battle—would they still have electricity tomorrow? Heat? What would they eat?
She wouldn’t go back to that level of poverty, not again. She’d worked so hard to pull herself up by her bootstraps—some days, literally.
She glanced over her shoulder. Caroline wasn’t there. She must have gone to see Mitch, and knowing that woman, she had insisted Paulo be allowed in there with her.
Caroline was a good mother, the kind of woman who loved her son no matter what. June had no doubts that she’d sell off everything—including the cowboy-boot trash can—to pay for Mitch’s care. And then she’d have nothing. No place to live. Not a penny to her name.
June couldn’t bear Caroline having to go through what she and Mom had lived through. No one should have to live that way. June had made enough to take care of her mom—she’d proven she could ride with the big boys. Caroline was the kind of mother June had always dreamed of having—kind, loving, sober. Supportive. She wouldn’t let Mitch drag his mother down to that level. Not while June could do something about it.
It was the only way to take care of her family—the family she’d made. She never would have made it this far on the circuit without Mitch. She’d do anything for him.
Including this.
On some level, Travis would understand. He and Mitch were old buddies with the kind of friendship that could survive coming out of the closet and fake girlfriends. Travis wouldn’t want what happened to him to happen to Mitch. That had to include the bankruptcy.
“No,” June said with confidence, “I won’t. And if you try to keep me off that bull, I’ll leave and go home. You don’t really want me to retire at the beginning of a long, lucrative career, do you, Mark?”
Funny, wasn’t it? Once upon a time, every single person in rodeo would have called her bluff to quit. But now? Now everything was different.
This was what she’d fought for. True respect.
Oh, yeah, she was getting on that bull. She knew the score, and there was no way in heck that Mark would let his Future Star of the TCB just walk.
“But Travis—”
“This is my choice, Mark.” She fixed her meanest glare on him, and he paled. Ian wasn’t the only one who could scare the hell out of people. “Now, do we have a deal, or am I going to have to force the issue?”
Travis would understand. He knew she could ride. He believed in her.
“No, we have a deal.” Mark wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead before he slapped one of the biggest hats she’d ever seen on his head. “But I’m not responsible for what happens out there.”
Great. Her life was on repeat.
“Or what happens with Travis,” Mark added over his shoulder.
June looked over to where Travis was sitting alone. He was hunched over in his chair, eyes staring at the clock. How long had they been here? How long had he sat in that chair, waiting and wondering if Mitch’s life would have a different ending than Travis’s?
How long would it be before he realized she was going to ride No Man’s Land?
June shoved aside the guilt coursing through her system. He’d have to understand that this wasn’t about him, that was all. This was about her taking care of her family. Mitch and Paulo and Caroline were her family, too. She had to do this for them, and then things would be set right and they could all go on with their li
ves.
She had to do it for herself. She believed she could ride whatever she drew, all the way down in her bones. Hell, she’d even told Travis she’d ride No Man’s Land, if she drew him.
So this wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t really even an evasion. She was doing exactly what she’d said she’d do. And just like Travis had gotten used to Mitch and Paulo being a couple, he’d get used to this, too. He’d understand. She knew it.
It would all work out. It had to.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“TRAVIS! YOU STILL HERE?”
What did that mean, still here? When was it? He tried to find who was talking to him, but it wasn’t easy to get his eyes to move. His head felt like someone was trying to hold it underwater.
“Randy?”
“I heard Mitch came out of that first surgery,” Randy said as he plopped down in the chair next to Travis.
“Yeah—I think he did. The doctors—” What was it they’d said? Travis remembered Mrs. Jenner crying, but also jumping up and down a little. A good crying, she’d explained to Paulo.
But they weren’t here right now—probably in the room with Mitch. Travis was a little surprised to see that he’d been alone until Randy showed up. “The doctors said they got everything reattached in his arm—he should be able to use it again.”
“Damn lucky,” Randy said with a whistle. “You going to stay here? I thought you’d be at the arena with June.”
Travis looked around, wishing his head could keep up with his eyeballs. Why was everything so difficult? Oh, yeah. Sleep. He hadn’t gotten much.
“She said I should stay here, just in case Mitch woke up...” Was tonight the start of the Challenge finals? Or had it started last night? He hadn’t let anyone turn on the television. He wanted nothing to do with those damn bulls right now.
Randy shook his head in disbelief. “I gotta tell you, we were all a little surprised to hear that she was going to do it. We figured, you and then Mitch...”
Nothing Randy was saying made a lick of sense. “What are you talking about?”
Rodeo Dreams Page 23