by Lori Wilde
that wild spirit of his he was just another man. Hadn’t that
footloose wildness always been the thing that attracted her
to him?
Through Kael she lived vicariously, enjoying the adven-
tures and the adulation secondhand without having to put
herself at risk. He’d been right to leave her seven years
ago. There was no way the tortoise and the hare could
successfully mate.
Ducking her head, Daisy turned away.
From outside the raised window, a sudden scream rent
the air.
“It’s one of the kids!” Pam Standish shouted.
In seconds, a half dozen adults pulled open the back door
and tumbled into the yard, Daisy and Kael right behind
them.
“What’s going on?” she asked, fear pulsing through her.
Kael gripped her hand. “Where’s Travis?”
“Criminey,” a man said, pointing, “the kids are in the
bull pen.”
A gaggle of children ran to the house, screaming and
hollering. Mickey’s wife grabbed her daughter. “What’s
the matter?” the woman demanded. “What happened?”
“That little red-haired boy—” the girl gasped, clutching
her chest “—he tried to ride Ferdinand. He said he was
gonna be a bull rider like his daddy.”
Daisy’s heart stopped. A ringing sound started in her ears
and rose to a terrifying crescendo. No. It couldn’t be true.
Not her boy. Travis, her shy, quiet child trying to ride a
bull?
Kael dropped her hand and took off running. Daisy at-
tempted to follow, but her legs refused to move. She stood
helpless, eyes fixed on the bull pen, watching while Kael
went to retrieve their fallen son.
Minutes later he returned to the house, Travis cradled
against his chest, a ring of spectators trailing after him. He
was limping heavily and tears slid helplessly down his
cheeks.
Pam Standish draped an arm around Daisy’s shoulder,
but she felt too numb to take comfort in the gesture.
“Daisy...” Kael croaked, anguish on his face.
Travis rested in his arm, rag-doll limp. His face was the
color of chalk, and his head lolled in the crook of Kael’s
elbow.
“What happened?” Daisy asked coldly. She seemed to
be floating above her body, detached from the action
around her. People were speaking in hushed whispers, gath-
ering their own children to them.
“The kids tell me he climbed on the bull.” Kael’s voice
trembled. “He was pretending he was me. Ferdinand shook
him off like a flea. He hit his head. There’s a big knot.”
His shoulders shook violently as he sank to his knees,
Travis still clutched tightly in his arms.
“Oh, God,” Kael said. “I caused this. I’m responsible.”
“I called an ambulance,” Mickey Standish tentatively
volunteered.
“Here’s his hat, ma’am.” Mickey’s son, Scott, a tow-
haired boy only a few years older than Travis, extended the
straw cowboy hat toward Daisy.
Numbly she took the hat and fingered the scratchy straw.
“Thank you.”
Scott Standish nodded solemnly and stepped aside.
“Daddy loves you, Travis,” Kael whispered into the
boy’s hair. He was alone on his own island of grief. “I’m
sorry, so sorry.”
Calmly, ignoring Kael’s sorrow, Daisy reached out and
traced her fingers over Travis’s face. “Honey,” she whis-
pered, “it’s Mama, wake up now.”
She willed him to open his eyes, to wrap those slender
little arms around her and giggle, but he did not stir.
“If only I hadn’t taken him to the rodeo. If only I hadn’t
let him watch those videos. If only I hadn’t told him he
could be a bull rider someday,” Kael moaned under his
breath.
“Travis,” Daisy said sternly. “Stop teasing us. You’ve
got to open your eyes.”
“Daisy.” Kael met her stare at last, the regret on his
face too much to bear. “Travis is unconscious.”
“No,” she denied. “He’s not. He’s only fooling
around.” She took the boy’s arm and shook it. “Travis,
stop this right now, you hear me?”
“Don’t, Daisy, please.” Kael begged.
God, no. Not a coma. He’s just a little boy. Old mem-
ories rose up to slap Daisy. She remembered the state
trooper standing on the front porch, his hat in his hands,
his head bowed as he gave her and Aunt Peavy the news
that her parents had been killed in an automobile accident
on the Interstate between Rascal and San Antonio trans-
porting honey to a candy factory. She recalled the frantic
phone call from New Orleans that had come in the middle
of the night. It was Rose’s boyfriend of the week. The man
said he’d come home to find her unresponsive on the bed-
room floor, an empty pill bottle and a half-gone fifth of
whiskey beside her.
Daisy clenched her hands, her nails biting into her palms.
Not again. She couldn’t bear to lose another loved one. Not
Travis. Not this young. Not this way.
“Daisy,” Kael beseeched her. “Say something.”
“Kael Carmody,” she cried, agony rushing through her
like a flooded river fleeing its banks. “What have you done
to our son?”
Chapter Ten
The stark white hospital corridor stretched endlessly be-
tween the waiting room and the emergency department,
where the paramedics had taken Travis. Overhead the fluo-
rescent lights hummed and flickered. Patients and their fam-
ilies sat like flour sacks on the cheap plastic benches, sigh-
ing, groaning and waiting their turn with long-suffering
acceptance. Occasionally the intercom would crackle and a
staticky voice would page some hospital personnel to one
area or the other. Housekeeping to clean a spill in the caf-
eteria, respiratory therapy to give a treatment in ICU, nurs-
ing supervisor to pick up an outside call on line two.
Kael noted all these things in a dull, detached manner.
A sharp, antiseptic stench permeated the air, goaded his
brain and caused him to recall that night, not so long ago,
that he’d been wheeled into a similar hospital, bleeding and
alone.
Absentmindedly, he reached down and rubbed his aching
knee. He knew what Travis was going through in there, and
he almost choked on the empathy.
His son was hurting and it was all his fault.
Kael bowed his head and sank his face in his hands. He’d
encouraged Travis’s interest in bull riding. Secretly he’d
been thrilled to see the influence of his genes surfacing in
the boy. Egged on by macho egotism, he’d gloated over
the changes he’d effected in the child. Under his masculine
sway, Travis had gone from hesitant and introverted like
Daisy to enthusiastic and adventuresome like himself.
Only, that change had resulted in trouble.
Trouble he’d never anticipated.
Having a kid was sca
rier than he’d ever realized. When
he’d discovered he had a son, his thoughts centered on all
the fun they would have together. He’d never seriously con-
sidered the awesome responsibility of parenthood.
Just as he had with everything else in life, Kael had
leaped in with both feet, never looking to see how secure
the ground was beneath him.
Daisy was right. He was irresponsible, and that irrespon-
sibility might have cost his son his life.
A violent shudder ran through him. He should have
stayed away from Rascal. Daisy and Travis had done fine
without him. Now he had ruined everybody’s life by co-
ercing Daisy into marrying him.
Daisy.
At the thought of his wife, deep emotions prodded his
chest. It hurt his heart to know what he’d done to her.
Right now she was in with Travis. The doctor had said
one parent in the room at a time. Daisy insisted she go first,
and Kael had acquiesced.
Mickey Standish and the rest of the well-wishers had
departed hours ago, murmuring words of sympathy and ex-
pressions of concern. Kael had watched them go with a
mix of relief and despair. He was glad not to have to keep
up a good front, but on the other hand, he didn’t relish the
idea of being alone.
“Mr. Carmody?”
Kael looked up.
A young nurse in her early twenties stood before him, a
red stethoscope around her neck, a back support belt en-
circling her waist and a clipboard tucked in her arm.
Kael got to his feet and caught his breath. He searched
the nurse’s face for some indication of the news. Her eyes
were guarded, her expression somber. Fear squeezed his
gut. “Yes?”
She awarded him a faint smile, and he relaxed instantly,
warm relief swimming through him.
“Your son just woke up. He seems to be fine, but to be
on the safe side the doctor wants to hold him overnight for
observation. We’ll take him to the floor in a few minutes,
and you can see him there.”
Kael let out his breath in a rush, his legs wobbly beneath
him. “Thank you,” he said, gratefully shaking her hand.
“Thank you for everything.”
“You’re welcome,” she smiled again, then disappeared
back through the swinging double doors from which she
had emerged.
Kael hesitated a moment, swaying like a tree in the wind.
Should he stay? Should he go? What would be best for
Travis and Daisy?
He loved them both with such a fierce, abiding love.
More than anything in the world he wanted to be with them.
The lure of the rodeo could never compare with what he’d
found waiting for him here at home in Rascal.
And yet, he loved them so much he knew he must act
in their best interest and not his own. Nothing mattered but
Travis and Daisy and their well-being. Not his career, not
what his parents thought of him, not even what he wanted
out of life. He was a husband and a father. His family came
first. Now and forever.
They’d be better off without him.
Kael supposed he’d arrived at the decision hours ago,
sitting here alone in this godforsaken waiting room. He was
a bad influence on his son. He’d led him into danger. There
was no excuse for his actions. None. He couldn’t ask
Daisy’s forgiveness. He didn’t deserve it.
He’d leave town tomorrow after transferring money into
Daisy’s bank account. Then he’d go see his lawyer about
drawing up divorce papers so Daisy could have her free-
dom. After that he would call Randy Howard and tell him
he was prepared to go through with the experimental sur-
gery. What did it matter if he ended up crippled? Without
Daisy, life wasn’t worth enjoying. And if the surgery was
a success he could at least bury his sorrow in the only
solace he had left—bull riding.
Pivoting on his heels, Kael spun toward the pneumatic
doors. They opened before him, depositing him into the
starless night. He was glad now that Daisy hadn’t allowed
him to tell Travis he was the boy’s biological father. His
leaving would be less traumatic this way. Daisy had been
wiser than he. Or she knew him better than he knew him-
self.
His spirits dragging lower than a snake’s belly, Kael
hitched in his breath and headed for his pickup, his heart
dropping faster with each retreating step.
Don’t look back, he told himself. She doesn’t need a
sorry sack of cow dung like yourself messin’ up her life.
He got in the truck and started the engine, tears blinding
his vision. He brushed them away with the back of his
hand.
“It’s for the best, Carmody,” he said. “Everybody
knows you’re too damned irresponsible to be a good dad.”
“Have you seen my husband?” Daisy asked the nurse
whose picture ID proclaimed her “Susan Kams.”
Susan shook her head. “Not since I told him we were
taking Travis to the floor, Mrs. Carmody. That was—” she
glanced at her watch “—over forty minutes ago.”
Mrs. Carmody. She liked the way that sounded. “Would
you mind checking the waiting room for me?” she asked
the nurse. “I know he’d like to go up with us.”
“Sure.” Susan nodded. “Be right back.” She turned and
disappeared out the door.
“How you feelin’, cowboy?” Daisy said, going over to
the gurney and curling her fingers around the stainless steel
bed rail. She smiled down at her son.
“My head kinda hurts.” Travis raised his head and ten-
derly fingered his scalp.
“You’re going to stay off the back of bulls from now
on, aren’t you?” she chided, drawing the covers up more
tightly around his neck and kissing his cheek in a motherly
gesture.
“It’s harder than it looks,” Travis said. “I guess that’s
why Dad told me I couldn’t ride a bull until I was twelve
and that was only with his supervision.”
“Kael told you that?” Daisy was surprised.
“Uh-huh.”
“Why did you disobey him?” she asked sternly.
“The other kids dared me.”
Daisy clicked her tongue. “Travis Hightower, you know
better than that.”
“Yeah,” he gave her a snaggletoothed grin, and she was
so happy to have him awake and healthy that she wrapped
him in a bear hug.
There was a light rap on the door and Susan stuck her
head in. “Your husband wasn’t in the waiting room. Maybe
he went to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee.”
“Maybe. Thanks for checking.”
“You’re welcome. Let me just sign off Travis’s chart,
and I’ll be right back to escort you to the floor.”
Daisy bit down on her bottom lip. Where had Kael gone
off to? She needed to talk to him and let him know she’d
been doing a lot of soul searching. These tense past hours
spent alone in the emergency room, h
olding Travis’s little
hand while he lay unconscious on the stretcher had struck
her with harsh reality.
If she continued her stubborn behavior, she would lose
Kael forever. He’d been so good to take whatever she
dished out, patiently deflecting her anger. She’d been pun-
ishing him for too many years. Whatever had happened
between him and Rose had been over a long time ago. He’d
made his amends. And even though Travis had gotten in-
jured pretending to be a bull rider, could she ultimately hold
Kael accountable? Didn’t the positive changes he’d
wrought in her son’s life outweigh the negative? She
couldn’t deny that under Kael’s influence Travis had blos-
somed. And what about herself? Kael had worked his
magic on her, as well, peeling back all the old hurt and
pain and replacing it with love.
Kids got hurt every day. If anyone were to blame, it was
she. She should have been supervising Travis more closely.
She had to admit that just knowing he was out there
waiting for them, that she wasn’t going through this ex-
perience alone, gave wings to Daisy’s heart. It was nice to
have someone to lean on. A husband who cared.
Swallowing past her guilt, Daisy blinked. Kael had made
mistakes, yes, but so had she. For the sake of their son, for
their marriage, it was time she released all resentment. She
forgave Rose and she forgave Kael, but most of all Daisy
forgave herself. For it was she who had most suffered the
effects of her own hardheaded pride.
Daisy glanced at her watch and was surprised to discover
it was only eleven-thirty. It felt as if eons had passed since
Travis’s accident instead of four hours. So much had hap-
pened in such a short period of time. Her attitude had
shifted 180 degrees. She gulped and pushed against her
eyelids with her palms to stay her tears.
This time Kael was standing by her. He was her husband,
her friend and now her lover, and more than anything she
wanted to wrap her arms around him and tell him so. Oh!
how she loved that man. Had loved him since she was
sixteen years old.
She shouldn’t have taken her fear out on Kael by treating
him with such cold disdain, especially in front of his
friends. He loved Travis as much as she did. He was wor-