Loving A Cowboy (6 page)

It was similar to the litany he’d recited all the way home in the car that fateful day. She’d been terrified then. Of her father’s anger, of his influence, of his power. She wasn’t terrified anymore.

“This is about me.” She took a deep breath. “I need to work at something I want to do. You found something you liked. I need to find something I like.”

He snorted. “My family hadn’t a pot to piss in. I didn’t have the luxury of finding something I liked, Libby. I’ve worked since I was twelve. Worked two jobs once I graduated high school until I found something better, and that was selling cars. I didn’t sell cars because I liked it. I sold because I could make money at it. And I found a path to my own dealership. Now I have three. And the whole damn thing is going down the drain due to bankers gambling with billions of dollars, some of which was my hard-earned money. And if that wasn’t enough of a kick in the pants, my only daughter kicks me again by walking out when I need her most. You are ungrateful, Libby.” He ran his large hand through his graying hair.

“I know you had it rough. Maybe I need to have it rough, too.”

“You need to understand loyalty. Family loyalty.” He shook a cigar-like finger at her. “This better have nothing to do with Chance Cochran, or I swear—”

“This has to do with me. I was at the hospital with Chance because he has no one else.”

“That’s not what I hear. I hear he’s got so many women he doesn’t know what to do with them.”

“There was no one there but his friend Lonnie Kasin. I was married to Chance, after all.”

“Married for a day doesn’t mean shit. In some states that wouldn’t have even qualified as a marriage. You’re divorced. I saw to that.”

Yes, he’d seen to ending her marriage. Paying this one and that one. Her young age and the short duration of the marriage had lent credibility to her father’s claims of duress and coercion, resulting in a filing for irreconcilable differences, and the no-fault divorce had been granted.

She’d signed those papers even as the pen shook in her hands, even as she felt the bile in the back of her throat. She’d signed those papers and dutifully gone off to continue her education, but back East. Back East where she wouldn’t have to face Chance after what she’d done to him. She’d run away. A coward.

Seeing him had brought all that back and amplified the guilt she’d been carrying around. What if he hadn’t been strong enough to handle the blow she’d given him? What if, instead of turning to the rodeo, he’d turned to alcohol like his mother had, or drugs, or…the bad choices were limitless.

She’d been young, scared, and immature. And she’d been carrying the guilt around with her for over five years. She was through running from her own bad behavior. She needed to make amends. She’d start by helping him in any way he needed. Running errands or running interference. She’d make herself useful. It was a small gesture, but it was a beginning, and if he let her in, just a little, maybe she could get him to forgive, if not forget. Maybe if he understood who she was rather than who he’d
thought
she was, he’d be relieved their marriage hadn’t worked out.

“Is this what your mother would have wanted you to do?” he continued. “Your mother, who did everything for you, for me, for the family. What would she think of you turning your back on me, Libby?”

He knew just what to say. Just how to get to her. But not this time. She could almost hear her mother’s voice telling her to go. To stick up for herself. The same thing she’d urged when a young Libby squabbled with her brother.

“This isn’t about Mom. Or what she’d want. Though I’d like to think she’d want her daughter to be strong enough to stand on her own two feet.”

“She’d want you to help me. That’s what she’d want.” Her father blew out a snort of air like a winded horse. “You’ll regret this, Libby. Walking out on your father during his time of need.” He grabbed his keys off the counter and brushed past her, his jaw set, his eyes narrowed.

The slam of the door let her know he was gone. She stood for a long time in the middle of the kitchen, not moving. Just standing. Waiting, but for what she didn’t know. Maybe for it to sink in that she’d finally stood up to him, for what it was worth.

Now she had to get a job and find her own place to make good on standing on her own two feet.

First, though, she’d visit Chance and make sure he was all right.

* * *

Libby walked in on a pretty, young nurse checking Chance’s blood pressure. By the grin on both their faces, she’d interrupted something.

Chance turned to her, his smile faltering just a bit. She supposed she should have expected a less-than-exuberant greeting given the way they’d left things before he got hurt. But seeing him yesterday, flat on his back and in pain, had crystallized what she needed to do. You didn’t get many opportunities to make amends.

“Libby?”

She nodded at him as she waited for the nurse to finish up. Chance looked better. Color was back in his cheeks, and there was a sparkle in his eyes, unless that was due to the nurse. His dark hair was clean and combed, one lock tumbling over his forehead, making him look like he’d just had a roll in the hay. Even a hospital gown didn’t diminish his appeal.

Libby glanced around the sparse room. There was an older man in the bed next to Chance. A woman who looked like she could be the man’s wife sat at his bedside, talking to him in a low voice as if to comfort him. Libby looked at the couple with something akin to envy. It was important to have someone you could count on when the sea of life turned rough.

The nurse patted Chance’s arm and vowed to be back within the hour. Libby settled into the chair at his bedside.

“Not so bad when you’ve got a pretty nurse to care for you, huh?” she said, trying to sound light and casual.

“I can think of easier ways to meet women. What are you doing here, Libby?”

“How’s the pain?” she asked, ignoring his question.

He shrugged. “Just a dull ache right now.” He nodded toward the tubes in his arm. “I’m on some sort of medication. They’ll be easing me off of it gradually. For now though, I’m not feeling all that bad.”

There was a sloppy smile on his face.

He was high, like drunk-high. Too bad his hooded, half-closed lids and cocky grin reminded her of a younger Chance after they’d made love.

“Want to test how good I’m feeling?”

Libby felt the flush clear to her toes. Strange how this so very relaxed Chance reminded her much more of the boy she’d fallen in love with than the angry man who had told her they shouldn’t see each other again.

“I think not, Chance Cochran. You need to lay still and heal.”

He reached for her, and she felt compelled to place her hand in his warm one. She could almost hear the sizzle from the electricity that jolted through her. His calloused fingers closed around her hand, and he stared at her with questions in his eyes. “You look too good to ignore.”

His low, silky voice and the words he said caused her pulse to do a happy dance. It was the drugs talking, she reminded herself. For a moment, however, she was going to let herself pretend.

“I step out for one second and here you are flirting with a woman. And not just any woman.” It was Lonnie’s voice. Libby turned around as the bull rider entered the room. He had on typical cowboy gear of weathered jeans, faded plaid shirt, and battered boots. He carried a cup of coffee. Chance, however, still held on to her hand as if he didn’t want to let it go. The sensation was warm and wonderful, and she wasn’t about to give it up if she didn’t have to.

“Lonnie, my man. Look at the beautiful woman who found me,” Chance called out.

Even the other couple in the room chuckled.

“Hi, Libby. He’s looking better today, isn’t he?” Lonnie said as he pulled up another chair and sat down. “He’s not feeling much right now,” he added as if he was warning her not to take seriously anything Chance may say.

“I’ll be out of here in no time.” Chance leaned back on the pillows and closed his eyes, dropping her hand. She immediately felt the loss.

“Did the doctor say how long?” she asked. She was hoping the hospital would keep Chance for a while. Not just because she wanted to check on him. But someone as stubborn as Chance would need the oversight of doctors and nurses to keep him in bed. Left to his own devices, he’d probably be up on a bronc next week.

“Few more days in the hospital, and then he’ll need to do some physical therapy,” Lonnie answered. “He could ride with cracked ribs. But his foot will need time to heal properly.”

She noted Chance’s foot propped up under the cover.

“How much time?” she pressed. She prayed he wouldn’t ride the rest of the season. It was one thing to know he was out there riding, another to have witnessed his injury. The sight of the horse pummeling him was burned into her memory.

“Depends on who you listen to, the doctors or the cowboys who’ve had these injuries,” Lonnie said.

“The doctor, of course.”

“Eight weeks.” Lonnie took a sip of coffee.

That hardly sounded long enough.

“I’m giving it four,” Chance said, his eyes still closed.

“Four?” She let the alarm ring in her voice.

“Cody Smith hurt his foot. He was on crutches and riding in a few weeks. Can’t keep a good cowboy down, Libby,” Chance mumbled.

“What about reinjury or another injury? You could hurt something else, favoring your bad foot.”

“When you rodeo, you sign on to ride hurt. It’s part of the deal. Won’t be the first time, won’t be the last,” Lonnie offered, obviously supporting Chance’s foolish decision.

“You can’t seriously be considering—”

Chance opened his eyes and held up a hand to stop her. “This is really none of your concern, Libby. I appreciate the visit, darling, but if you’re here to make me feel better, you can start by not arguing with me.”

He was right. This wasn’t her business. She was nothing to him. She couldn’t even really claim friendship, considering.

“Right now, I’m going to sleep before they have to poke me again,” he mumbled, his eyelids closing again. “It was nice of you to come, Libby. But there’s no need to visit. I’m fine now. Like we agreed, there’s no reason to see each other. I’ll sign those papers. You can marry your suit.”

The papers. She’d totally forgotten about them.

Lonnie touched her on the shoulder and motioned her toward the door. She took one last look at Chance, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. An ache tugged her in the vicinity of her heart, but she followed Lonnie out of the room.

“Will you take my cell number in case he needs anything?” She wasn’t sure she could keep away, could keep from seeing for herself that he was all right, but maybe she should try. For both their sakes.

“Sure, Libby,” Lonnie said. “He’s serious about the four weeks. I would be too if I was him. It’s the way things are in this line of work.”

She couldn’t respond to such foolishness. Instead, she just got out a pen. She didn’t have any paper, so Lonnie gave her the napkin he had with his coffee. She wrote down her number, tore off the part containing it, and shoved it in Lonnie’s free hand. Then she asked Lonnie for his. He hesitated a minute before writing it out, and she stuffed the napkin remnant in her purse. She wished she had the courage to ask for Chance’s number, but there was no reason she could think of to justify the request. At least she knew where to find him. For the moment.

Chapter 6

“How could you check him out? He couldn’t walk yet. The doctor said he couldn’t put any weight on it.”

Libby stood at the circular desk, staring down at a young dark-haired nurse. Four days had passed since Chance had first been admitted to the hospital. She’d come every day. Chance’s irritation at her visits seemed to increase commensurate with the decreasing dosage of pain medication. And she’d been so consumed with checking on him, she almost forgot to schedule her interview in Denver, not to mention the several times Ben hadn’t been able to reach her because she’d shut off her phone in the hospital.

Ben
. He’d been upset that she’d made the decision not to work for her father and had not been supportive of her desire to find a job she liked. He’d mentioned moving in together after she commented on how uncomfortable her home had become with her father not speaking to her except to ask when she was going to get a job. She hadn’t said yes to Ben’s proposition. And given the strange feelings she’d had every time she looked at Chance, feelings she hoped were just guilt, or maybe sympathy, she shouldn’t say yes until she resolved her emotional conflict. Right?

Unfortunately, she couldn’t resolve anything if Chance wasn’t there.

The nurse shook her head. “I’m sorry. We can’t discuss a patient’s situation with anyone but family.”

Well that left Libby out.

“Some patients go to a rehabilitation facility when they have the kind of injuries Mr. Cochran had,” the nurse continued without looking up from the computer screen she was using. “Maybe check with one of them, only I don’t think that was where Mr. Cochran was headed.”

“Thank you,” Libby mumbled, fighting the sinking feeling claiming her stomach as the realization hit her—she may never get another opportunity to make things right.

She’d hurt Chance like no one probably ever had. Not his mother who had abandoned him. Or his father who might as well have. He thought she didn’t trust him, that somehow he hadn’t been good enough. She didn’t want him to believe that about himself.

She’d been the one not good enough. She’d been scared, afraid of the future and of losing her past, her family. It was important that he understood that.

She’d have to call Lonnie. Thank goodness they’d exchanged cell phone numbers. He’d surely know where Chance had gone. And what he’d be needing.

* * *

“I’ll be fine by myself, don’t you worry,” Chance said in answer to Lonnie’s question as he fiddled with the radio until he found a country station. Strains of “Drink a Beer” filled the void. He could use one right about now.