Bucked (4 page)

Dear God, if he didn’t recover fully, if he couldn’t ride again, would he have to do the one thing he’d left this town to avoid?

Would he be forced to follow his father and grandfather’s path whether he wanted to or not?

“As soon as your surgeon says you can work, you’ve got a position waitin’ on you at the prison. And let me tell you, it wasn’t easy to get either, with your arm broken and all. I had to call in some favors.”

Great, so now he was expected to owe his father for getting him a job he didn’t want.

“It’s nothing in the high-security areas, mind you. It’s more like a glorified secretary, mostly watching monitors, filling out reports, but it’s a foot in the door. It’ll help when you finally come to your senses and decide it’s time to grow up and get a real job.”

And there it was, the expected verbal slam and it had been only—Mustang glanced at the watch on his right wrist—two minutes or so since he’d walked through the front door.

There were clearly two options here. He could tell his father to take his job offer and his attitude and shove it right up where the sun didn’t shine, after which he would have to get back in the trailer. He supposed he could recuperate while parked in the lot behind the hospital. Or he could do what he always did. Keep his mouth shut and go out later. He’d find a bar and a woman, get drunk and get laid and take his mind off it all.

Mustang set his jaw. There was no way he could endure four months of this. Not even with all the booze and women in the world to help him. “I’ll have to see what my plans are. I was hoping to take off as soon as the doc said it was okay for me to travel. You know, get back on the road. Join the guys on tour again.”

He’d have to take Slade up on his offer of money, but it would be worth it. Swallowing his pride would be a lot easier than biting his tongue around his father for all that time. He’d likely bite his tongue damn near off by the time his bone healed.

His mother’s hand touched his right arm gently. “Oh, no, Michael. I was hoping to have you around for a while this time. I miss you.”

As his father turned and walked out of the room, Mustang heard, “As if he cares about anyone but himself.”

Mustang tore his gaze from his father’s stiff back. Leaving his mother would be his only regret when he pulled out of this damn town. “Don’t worry, Ma. You’ll have me around long enough to get sick of me.”

His father apparently already was. He drew in a deep sigh and decided to change the subject.

“What’s for dinner? I’m so hungry my stomach’s eating my backbone.” Mustang turned toward the kitchen and stopped dead at the sight that greeted him.

Her glossy dark brown hair hung to her shoulders and just begged for a man to tangle his hands in it. But what really caught his attention was the afternoon sun slanting through the window behind her. It outlined her long, lean, hotter-than-hell, girl-next-door body through the thin cotton of her dress.

His gaze traveled back up to her face and Mustang realized this
was
the girl next door. Or at least the girl that lived on the next street in a house where he’d spent a considerable amount of his youth, and man oh man had she grown up.

He frowned, shocked. “Little Bit?”

A shy, innocent smile lit her fresh, sweet face. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been called that. Welcome home, Mustang.”

It sure as hell had been a long time. Long enough for Rosemary’s younger sister to be not so little anymore.

“Thanks. It’s good to be home.”

Good to be home? Had he actually just said that? Damn, he was having trouble thinking with the grownup version of Sage in the room.

“To answer your question about dinner, Sage just came to drop off Maria’s empanadas especially for you.” His mother’s answer to his previous and long-forgotten question caught his attention.

The fact that Sage’s grandmother had cooked just for him warmed his heart when he needed it most. News of her homemade empanadas would have had him jumping for joy any day. Add to that the fact Sage had come to greet him the moment he’d gotten home and he was excited in a whole other way.

The sweet, younger Beckett girl had always shown him kindness, even in the old days when she was just a kid. Then again, she’d seemed more mature mentally and emotionally than her girlish exterior indicated. She’d listen to him complain about his parents with the patience of someone much older. Far more patience than Rosemary ever displayed for anything.

He let his gaze roam over her again. Rosemary may have been the belle of Magnolia back in high school, but Sage, the quiet, nerdy late-bloomer, had far surpassed her sister. Who the hell could have guessed that the knobby-kneed, eyeglass-wearing, quiet sister would end up becoming the natural beauty in the family?

Then it hit him like a brick to the head. He couldn’t think about Sage like a woman. He sure as hell couldn’t treat her the way he usually treated women. Grams going to all the trouble to make him his favorite dinner only served to remind him that the youngest granddaughter of the woman who’d been like a second mother to him was off-limits, especially since he had no plans to stick around here any longer than he had to.

Mustang let out a long, deep breath to steady himself. Too often he did his thinking with his dick. This was one girl he couldn’t do that with. “How is your grandmother, Sage?”

She laughed, making her look even younger than she had before, but that didn’t stop the warmth that spread through him at the sound.

“Grams is the same as always.” Her cheeks dimpled as she smiled.

How old would she be now? He quickly did the math, trying to remember how old she’d been when he left town those many years ago. She had to be twenty, give or take a year. Old enough, which made her far too tempting.

Yup. He needed to keep his hormones in check, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t catch up with an old friend. She’d always been a good listener and just as good about keeping quiet and sitting with him in silence when he hadn’t been in the mood to talk.

That would be nice, having a female friend whom he’d never had sex with. It sure as hell would be new.

“You be sure to tell her how much I appreciate the food. It’s been too long since I’ve had home cooking.”

Home cooking usually required a home, which meant coming home to the hell that was his father. Until now that had been less than enticing. Taking another look at Sage, all grown up and looking fine, and imagining how good those empanadas were going to taste, Mustang was rethinking his former opinion. Maybe Magnolia did offer a few enticements after all. But shit, only one of those two things was a guilt-free pleasure he’d be able to allow himself.

His mother ran her hand up and down his good arm, yanking his attention away from the only thing he’d been able to focus on since she’d walked out of the kitchen.

“Well, you’re going to get home cooking for as long as you’re here.”

“Thanks, Ma. That’ll be nice.”

“Come on. Let’s sit and eat. Sage was kind enough to bring the food over still hot so it’s all ready to eat. It sounds like your father is already poking around in it.”

“Um, I’m gonna head home now. Good seeing you again.” Sage sidled toward the door, putting her closer to Mustang.

He breathed in deeply and caught a whiff of whatever fresh, floral scent she wore. It mingled with the smell of Grams’ empanadas and he couldn’t resist. He wanted to keep her around for a little longer. “Why don’t you stay and eat with us?”

“I couldn’t impose on ya’ll like that.”

His mother shook her head. “Don’t be silly. Maria sent enough food for half the town. We’d love for you to stay. You can catch Michael up on all the goings on with the young people in town.”

“Yeah, Little Bit. Stay. Tell me everything I’ve missed.” He definitely didn’t want her to go yet and it had nothing to do with his wanting to hear what was happening in town either. The only person he wanted to hear about was Sage.

She hesitated. “Okay. I’ll stay. Thanks, Mrs. Jackson.”

“My pleasure, darlin’.” His mother bustled off into the kitchen, but Mustang held back.

He shook his head. “You sure have grown up.”

Sage cocked one dark brow.

“I’m glad you noticed.” The low, sultry tone of her voice cut straight through him.

She spun and followed his mother into the kitchen. He watched her hips sway and let out a long, slow breath. Gone without a trace was any resemblance to the little girl he used to know. How the hell was he going to keep his hands off her? It damn sure wasn’t going to be easy.

“You really don’t have to come to the hospital.”

As Mustang sat and tried not to drool over the remains of breakfast left on his parents’ plates, his stomach protested being empty with a big rumble. The aroma of freshly cooked bacon still hung in the air, but grumbling belly or not, there’d be no food or even water for him until after the surgery.

His mother put down her coffee mug and frowned. “Of course I’m taking you to the hospital. You’re my baby and you’re having an operation.”

“Ma. I just turned twenty-six.” He couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t care how old you are. You’ll always be my baby.”

“Damned inconvenient to schedule surgery in the middle of the week so your mother has to take off work,” his father mumbled from behind the morning paper.

Mustang drew in a deep breath to calm himself before he was tempted to use his one good arm in a way no son should think of using it against his father.

“It was the only day the surgeon could do it. Don’t take off work, Ma. I’m serious. You don’t need to come with me. I’ll drive myself to the hospital.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s fine. I’ve already called my boss and explained. They can do without me for one day. Besides, you can’t drive yourself home after surgery.”

An annoyed snort came from behind the paper and as stupid an idea as it was, Mustang was still tempted to drive himself. He didn’t care if he had to sleep in the hospital parking lot until he was up to the trip home. His mind reeled. Maybe he could say he’d already asked a friend to drive him to the hospital. Not that he had any close friends left in Magnolia, unless he counted Sage.

Mmm. Sage. Thoughts of her sweet smile and hot little body raised his spirits, but didn’t do a damn thing to solve the issue at hand.

He had walked Sage to the door after dinner. Maybe his parents might believe he’d asked her to drive him then. Though the fact that his trailer was missing when he was supposed to be in a car with Sage might be a clue he was lying, even to his dense, self-absorbed father. Maybe he could say it was parked at her house, but his mother might check with Grams.

Shit. He should have stayed in New Jersey.

“Well, time for work.” His father’s chair scraped back from the table. He stood and headed for the door.

Watching his father leave without another word, Mustang figured he wasn’t going to get as much as a simple “good luck with the operation” or hell, a “don’t die on the table because I’m not paying to bury you” from him.

The man was halfway to the door when he turned back. “Don’t forget to ask the doctor when you can start work.”

Mustang set his jaw. “I’ll ask.”
I’ll ask when I can get the hell away from here.

With a satisfied nod, he was gone.

After that beginning, the day could only get better, even with the broken bone and surgery. Just being away from his father lifted a dark cloud from Mustang’s brain. The drugs they gave him at the hospital didn’t hurt either.

“Michael. I’m going to give you a little something I call giggle juice when I’m talking to the kids, but it’s really—” Sticking the IV needle into Mustang’s right arm, the doctor spoke in that way all doctors did as they tried to make even complex things sound simple.

“That’s okay. I don’t need to know any more than that. Giggle juice is just fine. And call me Mustang.” Feeling queasy from just looking at the needle sliding into his vein, Mustang thought it best to interrupt before he went any further with the explanation.

“That’s right. The famous Mustang Jackson. We have a bit of a celebrity here with us today.” He smiled and spoke to the nurse while injecting a syringe full of what Mustang guessed was the giggle juice into the IV line.

Mustang averted his gaze and tried to concentrate on the mint green walls instead of the steady drip, drip of liquid slowly filtering into his arm. Even the toughest men had their weaknesses. His was needles.

A nurse with an ass the size of Texas steered a wheelchair through the door and over to the bed. “Hop on in here, sweetie. You qualify for a free ride to the operating room.”

Mustang started to protest that he could walk when he started to feel spacey. Resolved that he would be pretty much powerless to stop her and not caring so much anymore, he let the nurse help him into the chair. His IV bag full of giggle juice came along for the ride as she wheeled him through the double doors to surgery.

Time started to pass in strange ways and the next thing he knew, they were telling him to hop up onto the operating table. In a haze, he lay down, crossing his legs like he always did when he was relaxing.

“Uncross your legs, please.” The anesthesiologist was less of a people person than the doctor. No joking around. Just orders.

Mustang was pretty sure he complied with the request, but couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t aware of another thing until he woke up in recovery, alone, starving and feeling like he’d downed a bottle of tequila.

If only that were true…

“Look who’s awake. How do you feel?” The well-rounded nurse walked closer to the bed.

“Thirsty. Hungry too, I think.”

“Good. We’ll get you something to drink and eat as soon as the doctor sees you.”

The doctor walked around the curtain right on cue. “Hey, there. Do I hear someone’s hungry?”

Food would be good, but a report that he’d be back riding sooner instead of later would be even better. “Did everything go all right, doc? With the operation, I mean.”

Consulting the chart at the end of the bed, the doctor nodded. “Perfect. The ulna was twisted. Basically, half of the bone did a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn when you broke it. We had to go in, twist it back around and then secure it with a plate. You are now the proud new owner of one metal plate and four screws, but the bone will heal just fine.”

Good thing vivid visuals of snapped bones in his body didn’t bother Mustang as much as needles did or that would have been way too much information. “Am I gonna set off the metal detectors at the airport now?”

Sticking his pen back into his pocket, the doctor laughed. “No. The new metal we use doesn’t set off metal detectors.”

Mustang’s woozy brain spared a brief moment to consider why criminals didn’t just get guns made out of this new metal if it didn’t set off the detectors. He wrestled his focus back onto what was really important. “When do you think I’ll be able to use the arm again?”

He replaced the chart at the foot of the bed. “That depends what we’re talking about. As long as you’re careful, I don’t see why by tomorrow you couldn’t do most everything you’re used to doing, just with the sling on. You can drive and shower as long as you keep the bandages from getting wet.”

“And when can I ride again?”

The doctor shaking his head had both Mustang’s hopes and gut sinking.

“I will be able to ride again, right?”

“You will, yes. Mustang, you’re not the first professional cowboy I’ve patched up. This is Texas, you know. I’m telling you right now, you get back on a bull before you’re ready and I can make no guarantees that it won’t end your career.”

Mustang took a second to breathe and resolve himself to that. “Okay.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean you’ll follow my advice or are you just going to do what you want anyway?”

“It means I’m not ready to retire.” Even if that meant having to swallow his pride for the next four months. “I’ll do what it takes to go back into competition one-hundred percent healthy, doc. I promise.”

“Good to hear.” He turned to the nurse. “Let’s find him some lunch and see if we can’t get him out of here by this afternoon.”

Mustang sighed. Didn’t that figure? The one time he would have actually preferred to remain in the hospital for a while they were sending him home. It looked like his luck hadn’t improved much. Though the operation had gone right and his arm would heal. There was no way Mustang could complain about that.

***

“Grams. I think I’ll drive over to the Jackson’s. You know, to pick up the plates I brought the empanadas over on and forgot to bring back.”

“You don’t need to do that,
mija
. Myra said she’d drop them off later in the week. She just couldn’t do it today. Michael had his operation today.”

As if that hadn’t been the only thing on her mind all day. “Yeah, I know. Have you heard from her since?”

Sage’s grandmother shook her head. “No,
mija
.”

“Oh. I was just wondering how it went. Maybe I should call and see if she needs me to pick anything up for her at the store. I mean, if she’s home taking care of Mustang she may not want to leave.”

Sage glanced up and saw an amused expression on her grandmother’s face. “What?”

“Nothing. I changed my mind. Why don’t you go get those plates now, that way you can ask in person if she needs anything.

Maybe I’ll make more empanadas and try and put some weight on that boy. Make sure you tell him I expect to see him here at least once before he leaves town again.”

Before he leaves
. That was a very real reminder to Sage. He may be here now, but he would still go away again.

“Okay, Grams. I’ll run over right away, you know, to get the plates. I’m just going to get out of my work clothes first.”

Her grandmother smiled. “Good idea. Put on that pretty blue dress of yours.”

“You don’t think it’s too much?” She’d worn it to her graduation ceremony and the party afterward.

“No,
mija
. I think it’s perfect.”

“Okay.” Sage nodded and, pulse racing, took off to change clothes.