by T. J. Kline
“Angie, aren’t you going with him?” her father asked quietly, reaching for her hand.
Panic flooded her, and she couldn’t catch her breath. “No,” she whispered. She caught a glimpse of Skip with his camera focused on the trauma unfolding in front of him, and she felt sick to her stomach.
Angela ran for the trailer. She locked herself inside as tears began to fall, coursing down her cheeks. Sobs wracked her body as she reached for the necklace at her throat, recalling her mother’s last moments: the ambulance driver offering to let her ride with her mother, the blood soaking through her clothing, her father on his knees on the sidewalk with his eyes silently pleading. Her entire life she’d blamed her father for the fact that she hadn’t been with her mother in her last moments, but it hadn’t been his fault. She’d been too afraid to go with her mother. She’d run and hid, like she was doing now, because she couldn’t face the pain and loss. Instead, she lived with the guilt and regret.
She stood, forcing her fear to retreat. She couldn’t do it again. Angela couldn’t live with the shame of not being with Derek. She loved him too much to abandon him when he needed her most. She might not be able to promise him forever, but she could be with him now. She hurried outside, tears blurring her vision, in time to see the ambulance pull away from the arena, lights flashing silently. Moments later, the siren sounded in the distance as it rushed toward the hospital.
In the midst of the activity, she hadn’t noticed the final rides finishing while other cowboys from the crew filled in as pickup men. Scott saw her approach and brushed past her on his way to the arena. She looked away, swiping at the tears of disgrace slipping down her cheeks.
“Is he going to be all right?”
He stopped and spun to face her, loosing his anger. “Now you care? He needed you and you weren’t there.”
“You don’t understand.” She wasn’t sure she understood either.
“You’re right, I don’t. But I think you forfeited the right to ask.” He clenched his teeth, trying to control his temper, and scanned her with his eyes. “I guess we were all wrong about you.”
She didn’t have to ask what he meant by the comment; she knew. Silvie and Sydney had warned her. They were a close family, bound by strong bonds of loyalty and trust. She’d proven unworthy of that trust. She wanted to apologize, to explain her actions, to tell Scott that she loved his brother, but he wouldn’t even look at her.
Scott shook his head and mounted his gelding, which was tied at the back gate of the arena. “You’ve got your story now, so I guess nothing else matters.” He didn’t give her an opportunity to respond, leaving her staring after him.
“Guess this didn’t go the way you planned, did it, Gigi?”
She turned to see Joe leaning on the railing below the announcer’s booth. He was the last person she wanted to see. “Not now, Joe.”
He shook his head, sympathetically. “I get it. You’re upset.” He walked down the last few stairs and pulled her stiff frame into his arms. “I’ll head back with Skip. We’ve already edited a few commercial spots and teasers to run this week.” He tipped her chin to look at him. “Go back with them and make sure he’s okay. Finish this and we’ll run your story next week. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. She hadn’t expected this compassion from him, but she appreciated it. Maybe she hadn’t been fair to him. Maybe he was her friend after all. Right now, he might be the only one she had left.
Chapter Twenty-One
* * *
ANGELA RODE BACK to the ranch with Scott in silence. She knew he was furious at her, they all were. Mike had barely glanced her way before they left, but she’d seen the disappointment in his eyes. How could she tell them that she was more heartbroken by her choices than they could ever understand? Only her father had looked at her with pity, as if he understood the disgrace and guilt she felt.
“Scott?” She had to make him understand the pain Derek’s accident had dredged from the depths of her past.
He ignored her, clicking on the radio and turning it up, making it clear he had no interest in conversation with her.
A country break-up song filled the cab and his hands squeezed the steering wheel, the knuckles turning white, giving away his emotional state. Angela bit her lower lip, wondering if she dared to push him to listen, when a commercial echoed through the truck.
“This week, Channel 12’s Angela McCallister investigates rodeo and the stock contractors who sustain this brutal sport. What may seem like harmless fun for spectators is anything but for the animals dying to entertain,” the announcer bellowed. “Watch our four-part series, beginning Monday. You may never go to another rodeo again.”
Scott reached out and turned off the radio, the hatred in his eyes scorching her, and she moved farther toward the passenger door. “Nothing really matters as long as you get your story, right Angela?” Bitterness dripped from his voice even as it remained calm—too calm.
Angela’s heart dropped into her stomach. Joe had lied to her. He’d ignored the story she’d worked on and used her connection with Mike to take video of what he’d wanted, twisting it to make Findley Brothers look like villains. How could she even defend herself to Scott? She’d already lost their trust because of her treachery against Derek, they would never believe she didn’t have a part in this.
She had to find a way to kill this and prove to Derek that he mattered more to her than any story.
DEREK HEARD THE hushed voices amid the beeping and whooshing of various machines and cringed. He recognized the sounds of a hospital but wasn’t sure why he was there. For a couple of measly broken ribs?
He tried to turn his head but realized he was already braced up and lying on his right side. Pain gripped his chest as he tried to take a breath, and he could only groan.
“Derek?” Sydney moved around the bed and in front of him. “Oh, thank God!” She hurried to the door and called for a nurse.
A nurse rushed into the room and checked his vitals before informing him that she would notify his doctor.
“What happened?” he croaked. His voice sounded weak and he wondered how long he’d been out.
“You have several broken ribs from that bull, but then someone even more thick-headed refused to be carried out of the arena and punctured his lung.” She frowned at him. “Did you really have to act so macho?”
He gave her a weak smile and winked. “Cowboy up.”
She glared at his attempt at humor. “Yeah, well, that just incapacitated you for the next six weeks. Jen and I were worried sick about you, you jerk.” Sydney rolled her eyes at him.
Great, we have five rodeos scheduled for the next six weeks. How am I going to cover those now? Way to let the family down, Derek.
“Angela?”
A shadow crossed her eyes and she frowned. Derek knew that look and it wasn’t good news.
“Where is . . .”
“Mr. Chandler, it’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling?” Derek looked at the woman, who appeared younger than he was, as she laid a clipboard on his bed. His questions about Angela would have to wait, but not for long. He would get some answers from Sydney.
“Can’t breathe,” he struggled to get even the few words out.
She nodded. “That’s to be expected. You need to try to take slow, deep breaths. You did puncture your right lung, but we were able to aspirate so you will most likely go home today. You’re going to need plenty of rest and no strenuous activity for at least six weeks.” She pulled a sheet of instructions from her clipboard. “These will give you a few other suggestions, but take ibuprofen for pain, 800 milligrams, and icing your ribs will help any swelling. Lying on the ribs will help as well. Most importantly, take deep breaths at least every hour.” She smiled at him and folded her arms over the clipboard. “You’re pretty banged up, but you were lucky.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Sydney said.
The doctor looked her way before looking back at Derek
. “Any more questions for me? No? Then I’ll send the nurse in to take out your IV and start getting you ready for discharge.”
Derek nodded as the doctor exited and turned back to Sydney. “Angela?” He wasn’t letting her run away.
ANGELA STARED AT the boxes on her bed. She couldn’t stay at the ranch. She needed to find a way to rectify this situation, but she couldn’t expect Mike’s generosity when they suspected her of lying to them. She packed her meager belongings and needed to inform her father to be ready to leave.
She probably should have left last night, but she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving without seeing Derek one last time. She had to know he was all right, and no one but Silvie seemed inclined to speak to her. How could she explain her decision to leave, at least until she killed the story? She worried that Derek wouldn’t believe her, either. Why should he? The very thing she’d set out to do had happened and she’d as much as incriminated herself from the beginning with her talk of ratings and anchor positions for controversial stories. How could she have ever been so blind as to even consider selling her soul for a future she never really wanted, sacrificing relationships and the lives of others to further her own?
There was a knock at the door. “Come in, Dad.”
“It’s me.” Silvie poked her head around the door.
Angela fought the tears that sprang to her eyes. Had it been anyone else, she could have reached for the bitter anger that seemed to surround her heart since Derek’s accident as she shouldered a new guilt and shame. Silvie had only looked her way with sympathetic eyes.
“What’s all this?” Silvie looked around at the boxes at the foot of Angela’s bed.
“I think it’s better if I leave. I need to somehow get this story off the air and I can’t do that here.”
“Hmm, I see.” She sat on the side of the bed and folded her hands in her lap. “Have you told anyone else?”
Angela smiled sadly. “No one else is talking to me.”
“So, about this story?” There was no note of condemnation or judgment in her question, but Angela felt shame smother her and turned her back on Silvie.
“I don’t even care about the story. And the story they’re airing isn’t mine.” She met Silvie’s gaze, praying the woman would believe her.
“Then why in the world would you leave?”
“I can’t stay here, Silvie. Everyone thinks I’ve lied about it and used Derek to get information.”
“Have you?” Silvie’s gaze was intent, but held no blame.
Tears sprang to Angela’s eyes. “I care about him, Silvie. I never meant to, but I do.”
Silvie smiled and wrapped her arms around Angela. “Aw, Angie, I know that. So does Mike.” She ran her hands over Angela’s head, soothing her like a mother would her child. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix all of this and you don’t need to go anywhere. Besides, I need your help.”
“Me?” Angela pulled away from the housekeeper’s comforting embrace.
“Well, everyone else is going to need to do more work since Derek will be laid up for six weeks. Clay and Scott will have to run the rest of the rodeos with Mike. Jen will be doing double duty around here, and Sydney will be at the rodeos, so I’ll be taking care of both babies and Derek. That’s an awful lot for an old woman like me.”
Silvie’s eyes gleamed and Angela recognized a guilt trip when she heard one. It might have worked flawlessly if it hadn’t been for the fact that staying would mean falling even further in love with a man who thought she’d used him. Her heart lurched against her chest at the thought of seeing him today.
Angela shook her head. “I can’t. I just . . . I can’t.”
Silvie pursed her lips. “I see.” She brushed her hands over her thighs and stood up.
“I have to stop this story from airing.” A tear slipped down Angela’s cheek and she swiped at it quickly.
“And you can’t do that from here?” She tilted her head to the side. “Don’t you think he deserves to hear your side directly from you?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Then why are you really leaving?”
“Because I can’t lose him.” Silvie looked at her, thoroughly confused. “I can’t face him when he looks at me and believes the worst. He’ll believe I lied, Silvie . . .”
Silvie laughed quietly and patted her shoulder. “Honey, you’re not going to lose that boy. I raised a smart man, and he’s so head over heels for you that nothing would make him believe that.”
“Silvie, you don’t understand. When I first came, I was using him, all of you,” Angela admitted, hating the woman she’d been only a short time ago.
Silvie laughed out loud. “We knew that, too. You’re not nearly as sly as you think you are.” She tapped Angela’s cheek. “Life is full of unplanned and unexpected moments. Some good, like falling in love when you least expect it, and some”—she paused as she touched Angela’s necklace—“well, some aren’t so good. But you get through the bad times because the good times are worth fighting for.”
She stood and headed toward the door. “I’ve seen the way you look at that boy. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you. If you give it a chance, it will be worth any bad you face because you’ll face it together.”
THE TRUCK PULLED down the driveway and Derek cursed every divot and pothole in the gravel, holding a hand to his ribcage. He glanced over at Sydney. “Why are you being so close-lipped about Angela?”
“She’s at the ranch, for now.”
“What does that mean?” He wasn’t sure if she sounded bitter or disappointed. While it disappointed him that she hadn’t come to the hospital, it hadn’t surprised him. He knew she still hadn’t dealt with her mother’s death, hadn’t even gone to the hospital then.
“According to Scott, she’s planning on leaving.” Sydney’s declaration shocked him from his thoughts.
He clenched is jaw tightly, frustrated that she couldn’t give him more than a few words at a time. “Did she say why?”
“The story is ready to air.” Her voice was tense and he could tell she wanted to say more but was refraining.
He was tired of this game and stared out the window. This wasn’t like Sydney, so he knew something was wrong, and it obviously involved Angela. He turned his mind back to the morning they’d spent together, just before he’d gotten hurt.
We need to talk.
He’d promised her they would talk that night, but they’d never had the opportunity. She’d sounded so somber at the time, and he’d been late to get ready for the rodeo so he hadn’t wanted to talk. He wasn’t ready to hear her regrets over what they shared the night before. Was that why she wanted to leave now? Or was Joe right, and now that she had her story, she had no further use for him?
ANGELA STARED OUT the window as Sydney’s truck pulled into the driveway, watching from a distance as Scott and Clay helped Derek out of the car. Mike grabbed the small bag the hospital provided from the backseat as she saw him disappear onto the porch beneath her. Had anyone spoken, she could have heard every word. Instead, the strained silence was deafening.
She looked back at the boxes by the bed. She should have taken them down to the car already, but after her conversation with Silvie, she felt guilty for leaving. She heard the awkward clunk of clumsy steps on the staircase as her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and saw Joe’s number. As much as she needed to talk with Derek, it might be better to let him get settled into his room. She bit her lip, refusing to entertain the thought that she might actually be stalling, hoping that she’d convince herself to stay at least one more night.
“Yes?” she answered. She hadn’t figure out how to kill the story yet and was waiting on a call back from Skip. She had to know what part he’d played in falsifying the footage. Joe didn’t know she’d heard the advertisement.
“I haven’t heard from you. How’s your cowboy doing?”
She felt the bite of suspicion in her belly. “I guess that depends.”
“I
s he still in the hospital?” She could tell he was trying to lead her into a discussion about Derek, and she wasn’t about to let him manipulate the conversation. She didn’t want to talk to him about Derek, or the fact that he’d nearly died.
She feigned boredom. “I guess.”
“You guess?” She could tell by his voice he wasn’t buying her act. “Your new ‘boyfriend’ is knocked from his horse and almost gored, and you don’t know if he’s still in the hospital?”
“He is not my boyfriend. Why would you care anyway? It sounds like you have your story after all.” She spit the words out like they were venom.
“Skip got some great footage. He showed me some of the raw clips last night. It’s great!”
So, Skip was involved. She felt bile rise in her throat and her stomach clenched at the thought of watching the footage of Derek’s attack. She swallowed, disgusted by the enthusiasm she heard in Joe’s voice and the pleasure he was taking in the brutality of it.
“So, you can head back now. The story will air Monday.”
She hated the arrogant tone of his voice and wondered if he was more pleased with his falsified story or because Derek had been hurt. “So I hear. I heard your teaser on the radio.”
Joe grew quiet, and she could almost feel his tension mounting through the receiver. He cleared his throat. “That was done before you changed your story. We can change it. But you need to get back here, Gigi.”