Authors: Hope Navarre
He and Chance left the midway behind and set out to view the livestock hopeful 4-H'ers had fed and groomed to perfection as they vied for that all-important grand champion ribbon. Chance wasn't impressed with the glossy, sleek Angus and Hereford steers, but the lop-eared rabbits were a big hit with him. Neal had trouble conveying to the boy that he couldn't take them out of the cages to meet Bell.
As they passed along the front of the grandstand, Neal paused. There would be a rodeo tonight. What would it hurt to take a look at the kind of stock that would be ridden? Motioning to Chance to follow him, Neal walked to the pens behind the rodeo arena.
Neal recognized Lance Carpenter, a local stock contractor, pulling up the gate of the semitrailer and unloading his string of bucking horses. Lance caught sight of Neal at the same time. He stepped down from the truck and walked toward Neal with a pronounced limp.
“Good to see you're still kickin', Bryant.” He held out his hand.
Neal took it in a firm grip. “Good to see you, too.”
“Gee, that bull sure did a job on you.”
Neal touched the scar on his face. “Yeah, he did.”
“Aw, you was too pretty anyway.” Lance tapped his right leg, and the artificial limb echoed dully. “Some of us don't have enough sense to get out while we're ahead, do we?”
“Guess not.”
A second semitrailer backed up to the loading chutes. The end gate was raised by a cowboy beside the truck. A dozen bulls crowded into each other as they plunged down the ramp and into the pens.
Neal staggered back from the fence as they thundered past him. Mortified at his inability to control the fear that gripped him, he shot a quick look at Lance. Lance's face was full of understanding. “It's like that, is it?”
“I don't know what you mean.”
Lance braced his arms on the fence and looked at the tips of his boot. “I remember how it was at first. How scared I was to get near a bronc.”
Slowly, Neal moved back to stand beside him. Chance leaned on the second rail of the fence, obviously awed at the size of the bulls in the pen. Bell barked and strained at her leash, eager to follow her herding instinct and enter the fray.
“How'd you get over it?” Neal asked when the hammering of his heart slowed.
Lance straightened. “I'm not sure I ever did, but rodeo is all I know. I figured if I couldn't ride 'em, maybe I could raise 'em. What about you? Are you goin' back to it?”
Neal shook his head. Taking the leash of the excited Bell away from Chance, he tied it to the fence post and then lifted the boy so he could sit on the top rail. “No. I promised his mother I wouldn't.”
“I guess every rodeo cowboy has to face that decision someday. Nobody rides forever. Your son?” Lance asked with a nod in the boy's direction.
Chance's delight with the activity around him was obvious. Neal smiled. “If I'm real lucky, maybe one day he'll think of me as his dad.”
“Well, if you ever find you've got the itch to ride again, come on out to the ranch. I got some watered-down bulls you can try. That brindle and the gray in there are a couple of 'em. I bring 'em in case any of the boys want a practice bull. Something that's not too tough but can give them a decent bucking.”
An idea began to form in Neal's mind. He glanced at the empty stands. He had to know if he could do it. He might never find a better time to test his nerve. Lance understood what he was going through. Neal could see it in his eyes.
He throat went dry as he gripped the fence. “How about right now?”
Lance glanced at him sharply. “You want a try now?”
Neal's blood turned to water at the prospect, but he nodded. He couldn't spend the rest of his life wondering if he had quit because he was afraid or because Robyn had asked him to.
“Yes, I want to try now,” he said quickly.
Here was his chance to prove he still had the guts it took. Robyn didn't understand what she had asked him to give up. He didn't intend to go back on the circuit, but he needed to prove to himself he was still man enough to ride, that underneath his eye patch he was still the man he used to be. He needed to know he wasn't a coward.
And if he found he couldn't go through with it, well, only Lance would know, and he would understand. Neal's hands clenched into fists. He wouldn't consider that possibility.
Lance laid a hand on Neal's shoulder. “You sure?”
“I'm sure.” He wasn't, and he might never be. There was only one way to find out. Climb to the top of the chute and put his legs on either side of a bull.
“You got your glove and bull rope handy?”
“No, but I can find someone who'll lend me theirs.”
Lance called to one of the men lounging beside the now-empty truck. “Jerry, have you got your rigging handy?”
The gangly young cowboy nodded. “Sure do.”
“Would you mind letting Bryant borrow it for a practice bull?”
“Heck, no, boss. It'd be an honor.”
“Thanks. Fetch it over here and run the brindle bull into the chutes. And, Jerry, keep this under your hat, you hear? I don't want any gawkers.”
“Okay, boss.”
“Put the gray one in,” Neal said quietly.
Lance shot a quick glance at him and nodded. “Okay, the gray it is.”
Jerry came running back with his bull rope, a glove and a can of rosin. “I hope the glove fits.”
Neal pulled the buckskin on. He didn't know if he was relieved or sorry that it fit snugly.
Jerry grinned. “I'll get my horse and ride pickup man for you.”
Turning to Chance, Neal lifted him off the fence and signed, “Stay here, okay?”
Chance smiled and nodded.
Neal looked to Lance. “Can you keep an eye on him for me? He's deaf. I don't know how to make him understand what I'm going to do.”
He guessed the boy would figure it out in a few minutes. Bell lay quietly chewing on her lead now that the arena was empty.
“Sure, I can watch him,” Lance said.
Neal considered sending Chance back to Robyn with Jerry, but he'd need someone in the arena with him when he came off the bull one way or another. Lance wouldn't be agile enough with his bum leg. Jerry seemed eager to lend a hand, and the fewer people who knew about this the better. If Robyn found out what he intended to do, she'd put a stop to it.
Neal's heart thudded in his chest as the big gray bull was driven into the chute beside him. He worked the rope and the rosin until he was satisfied with it. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, and he wiped it quickly with his shirtsleeve.
“You don't have to do this, son,” Lance said, working the rope around the bull.
“Yes, I do.”
“All right, then. Goner hereâ”
“Goner?” Startled, Neal asked, “What kind of name is that?”
Lance smiled. “He bucks, but he knows where the out gate is, and as soon as he can, he's a goner.” His smiled faded. “You ready, Neal?”
“As I'll ever be.” Neal took a deep breath and stepped across the chute.
Lance returned to stand beside Chance leaving Jerry to open the gate from horseback.
The big gray shuffled restlessly beneath Neal. Knowing he would rather die than admit to the men beside him he couldn't do it, he slipped his hand into the bull rope.
Years of practice and instinct took over then as he wrapped his hand and pounded his fingers tightly around the rope, then gripped the bull's sides with his legs.
With a barely perceptible nod to Jerry, the gate flew open.
The bull turned out with a high leap and landed hard on all fours. Kicking from side to side, he bucked down the length of the arena. Neal stuck tight. Each kick jarred his newly healed ribs and pulled at his shoulder painfully, but his sense of balance kept him over his hand and in the middle of the bull.
He'd done it. Elation filled him. He'd gotten on, and he was staying on.
With two fingers in his mouth, Lance sent a piercing whistle to signal that eight seconds was up. Neal stayed on board for two more bucks just for good measure. Then, after pulling his hand free of the rope, he made his dismount and wound up getting a face full of dirt.
Scrambling to his knees, he looked for the bull. The big animal had stopped bucking the instant his rider was off. He turned suddenly to face Neal. Giving his head one impatient shake, the bull whirled away and thundered toward the exit gate. Jerry rode up beside Neal. “Nice ride.”
Neal stood and blew out his breath as exhilaration filled him. He'd done it. Now that it was over, he wished Robyn had been there to see it.
Suddenly, excited yapping filled the air as Bell slipped her collar and dashed between the running bull and the open exit gate. Before Neal's horrified eyes, Chance scrambled through the fence. Lance made a grab for the boy, but Chance was too quick for him. Everyone shouted, but Chance never heard them. Both the boy and the dog went down under the massive animal's hooves.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
R
OBYN
PLANTED
HER
hands on her hips and surveyed the growing crowds on the midway. After two complete circuits of the rides and shows, she still couldn't locate Neal and Chance. Glancing impatiently at her watch, she frowned. They should have met her at the health screening booth twenty minutes ago. Where could they be?
A hand touched her shoulder. Relieved, she spun around, but it wasn't Neal. A pale and breathless Jane Rawlings faced her.
“Robyn, there's been an accident. You have to go to the rodeo arena, right now.”
Cold fear gripped Robyn's heart. Surely Neal wouldn't have gone there. He'd promised. “Why?”
“It's Chance.”
“Oh, my God, is he hurt? How bad is it?” Terror pumped through her veins as her heart began to pound painfully.
“I don't know. They just sent someone to the booth to find you.”
Whirling away from Jane, Robyn began to run toward the grandstand at the far end of the fairgrounds. The crowd became an obstacle course blocking her way, keeping her from her son. She plowed through them ruthlessly, knocking drinks from hands and pushing between startled couples, oblivious to the indignant shouts behind her.
An ambulance was parked inside the arena, and a group of men clustered beside it.
Her baby! She had to get to her baby.
Please, dear God, let him be all right.
More people blocked her way. Pushing between them, she battled back the scream rising in her throat.
Suddenly, Neal was in front of her, grasping her arms and halting her progress.
“Let me go.” Frantic now, she tried to shove him away. “Where's Chance?”
“They're getting him on the stretcher.”
“Is heâ” She couldn't say the word. The world receded until only Neal's face filled it.
“Is he dead?” she whispered.
Pulling her into a fierce hug, he said, “No, no.”
Relief made her knees weak, and she clung to him, grateful for his strength. The paramedics lifted their stretcher and moved toward the ambulance. Still clutching Neal's arm, Robyn moved to intercept them.
They only paused a moment. Her hand was shaking as she brushed the dirt from Chance's pale, still face and whispered his name. How she wished he would open his eyes, so she could tell him how much she loved him. Quickly, the men carried him to the waiting ambulance. Shaking off Neal's hold, she followed them, but Neal caught her again and held her back as the men loaded the stretcher into ambulance and secured it.
“What happened?” She looked to Neal for an explanation.
“I talked Lance into letting me try a practice bull. Chance was watching, and suddenly Bell got loose and chased after the bull. Chance ran into the arena after her, and the bull ran him down.”
Disbelief, then fury surged through her. “You rode a bull? With Chance watching? Who was watching him? He's four years old, damn you! Why weren't you watching him?” She slammed her fists into his chest.
“I'm sorry. I know I messed up. Lance was watching him, but Chance got away from him. I'm so, so sorry.” His voice broke on a raw sob. His eyes were filled with shock and pain, but she could only think of her son.
“Your stupid bull riding almost got you killed, but that wasn't enough, was it? You had to let it try to kill our son.”
She struck him again. Why didn't he try to stop her? Why was he taking blow after blow?
“I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say.”
“You said we would be enough for you, damn you! I trusted you. I trusted you with our son and look what you've done to him. I don't want you anywhere near him again. Do you understand?”
He grabbed her hands and stilled them in a painful grip. “I'm so sorry. It was an accident. I'd never hurt him.”
“You already have.”
The paramedic closed one door of the ambulance and turned to her. “You can ride in back with him, Robyn.”
Nodding, she climbed into the ambulance and gripped Chance's still hand.
Neal stepped up to the back, but the paramedic halted him. “Sorry, only one.”
A deep, biting cold filled Robyn as she stared at her son's pale face streaked with dirt. It was a cold that seeped down into her heart. She turned to look at Neal framed in the open door. His face was a mask of pain and confusion, but she couldn't care about him now. Chance needed her.
She wanted to shout, but her voice came out deadly flat. “Leave us alone, Neal. Just leave us alone. We were doing just fine until you showed up.”
He didn't answer. The door swung shut, cutting him off from her sight. Leaning down, she placed a kiss on her son's cheek and began to cry.
* * *
N
EAL
WATCHED
THE
ambulance roll away, and he knew it was over between him and Robyn. She would never forgive him for this. The fragile trust he had painstakingly rebuilt with her had been destroyed in eight heart-stopping seconds.
Lance Carpenter, with Bell in his arms, walked up beside Neal. “I'll get the pup over to the vet's office. Her front leg is broken. I don't think there's anything else wrong with her. You go on to the hospital and be with your boy. I'm sure sorry about this.”
“It wasn't your fault. I promised her I would give up riding bulls.”
“If you explain to her what happened, she'll understand.”
“I don't think she will. Not this time. Thanks for taking care of the pup. Tell the vet that I'll be responsible for the bill.”
“Sure thing. You had better get to the hospital.”
Neal made his way to the parking lot and climbed in the truck. Robyn wanted him to stay away, but he couldn't do it. He had to know that Chance would be all right.
It took him twenty agonizing minutes to reach Bluff Springs and the parking lot beside the hospital on top of the hill. The ambulance was pulling away as he drove up.
He got out and hurried into the emergency room. People were rushing back and forth. The nurse behind the reception desk was on the phone. “Prep surgery room one right now and make it fast. Exploratory laparotomy, possible ruptured spleen.”
When she slammed down the receiver and began to gather together papers, Neal asked, “Can you tell me how Chance Morgan is? They just brought him in by ambulance.”
“Are you a relative?”
“No.” It was the hardest word he'd ever spoken.
“I'm sorryâwe're only allowed to give information to the parents. If you'll have a seat in the waiting area, I'll let Robyn know that you're here. I'm afraid we're really busy right now. You'll have to excuse me.” She rushed away with her papers into a room down the hall.
He knew without being told that they were working on Chance in there. Robyn would be at his side. They wouldn't be able to tear her away. He wanted so much to offer what comfort he could, but he stood rooted to the spot.
A moment later, the door of the room opened and several women in brightly colored hospital scrubs wheeled a cart out into the hallway. He had a glimpse of Chance's blond hair and pale face before they disappeared down the hall.
Dr. Cain came out of the room behind them. He had his arm around Robyn. She was crying as she clung to him. He said, “Dr. Parker is the surgeon on call. He'll be here in a few minutes. We'll do everything we can.”
She lifted her tearstained face to gaze at him. “I know you will. There's no one I'd rather have with him than you.”
They walked down the hall together and turned the corner. Neal hung his head and walked out the emergency room doors. He wasn't needed there.
* * *
T
HE
SURGICAL
WAITING
room at the hospital was empty except for Robyn. She had called her mother and Martha was on the way. She had called Edward, too. He would return as soon as he could. Alone, she waited and prayed.
Her son was in surgery. Adam had been on duty in the E.R. He had quickly assessed Chance and rushed him into surgery with a suspected ruptured spleen. Her son's life hung in the balance. Why?
Because Neal couldn't give up riding bulls, even after he had promised he would.
She was so glad when her mother rushed in. “How is he?”
“Still in surgery. He has a broken arm, and Adam thinks he has a ruptured spleen.”
“That's bad, isn't it?”
It was bad for a young child. If the spleen had to be removed, the risk of deadly infections was frighteningly high. “It can be. Why did I ever bring him to the fair?”
“It was an accident, honey. Don't blame yourself.” Martha enfolded Robyn in a comforting hug.
“He's so little. I should have been with him.”
“Honey, you can't hold on to his hand forever, no matter how much you want to.”
That was exactly what Robyn had been thinking. If only she'd been there, she could have held on to his hand and kept him from running after Bell.
She sat down and stared sightlessly at the TV playing in the corner as her mother went to get a cup of coffee from the half-empty pot beside it. The evening news was on.
A two-car crash near Salina had taken the lives of three people. A house fire in Marion had left a family homeless. The weather would remain hot and dry for the next week. There wasn't a single chance of rain in sight. The Kansas State football team was looking good for the coming season.
Robyn's shock gradually faded. As it did, she realized how brutal she had been to Neal. She had taken her fright and anger out on him, but he wasn't entirely to blame.
She knew how afraid he was that he wouldn't have the courage to ride again. He'd seen the opportunity to lay that fear to rest, and she was glad that he had succeeded. He couldn't have foreseen that Chance would run into danger.
She knew her son's limitations better than anyone, yet a month ago, Chance had darted into the path of a tractor while she looked on. If it hadn't been for Neal's quick action that day, Chance might have been killed. She'd seen the whole thing, but she'd been powerless to stop it.
It wasn't fair to blame Neal because he hadn't been able to save Chance this time.
She closed her eyes and gripped her hands together.
Please, God, let my baby be okay.
A hand covered hers gently. She looked up and saw Adam. She gripped his hand. “How is he?”
He sat in the chair next to her. Her mother hurried to join them. Adam looked tired, but he was smiling gently. “Chance is out of surgery and in recovery now, but his condition is still serious.”
Robyn's grip tightened on Adam's hand. “How serious?”
“He has suffered some internal injuries with considerable blood loss. There was a tear in the spleen capsule, but Dr. Parker repaired that. Chance also has a broken left forearm. I've set it and put him in a splint until the swelling goes down. I'll put a cast on in a few days. Dr. Parker ordered a unit of blood for him. We'll have to see how he responds to that. He may need another.”
“Are you going to transfer him to a bigger hospital?” Martha asked.
“I will if you feel it is necessary. I happen to know his mother is a fine nurse. She won't leave his side until he's out of here. I'm sure he'll get the best possible care right where he is.”
Robyn squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”
“Just doing my job. Any questions?”
“How soon can I see him?”
* * *
N
EAL
HEARD
HIS
mother's footsteps on the stairs. She stopped outside his bedroom door and knocked. He was across the hall in her bedroom, sitting on the side of her bed and staring at an oval-framed picture in his hands. Bell lay on the bed beside him with a blue splint on her front leg. She whined and snuggled closer to him.
“I'm over here, Mom. How is he?”
“Martha just called. He's out of surgery, but his condition is still guarded. I think you should be there, son.”
“Robyn said she didn't want me near him.”
“I'm sure she didn't mean that.”
“She meant it.”
Fixing his mother with a steely stare, Neal held up the old photograph. “You knew he was my son.”
She glanced toward the empty space in her collection of framed memories on the wall. After crossing the room, she sat beside him and took the picture from his hand. She ran a finger over the face of a blond, curly-haired boy standing in front of a white picket fence. He held a large ball in his hands as if the camera had caught him in the midst of a game of catch. “I suspected.”
Neal lunged to his feet, crossed the room and then spun around to face her. “You should have told me.”
“What could I say if Robyn told everyone the child belonged to her dead husband? I could hardly call her a liar. Besides, I had no proof.”
Neal let out a sigh of frustration and raked a hand through his hair. “The first time I saw Chance, he was playing with a ball. Something about the whole thing seemed familiar, but it didn't click.”
He gestured toward the photograph. “I'd forgotten about this.”
“There wasn't any reason you should remember it.”
“He was Dad's little brother, wasn't he? The one who died when he was five or six?”
Nodding, she said, “His name was Matthew, and he died of pneumonia when he was five. This was the only picture of him your father had, and he cherished it.”
“I understand why Robyn didn't tell me, but if you suspected something,
you
should have told me. I would have come back for her.”
“It was her choice.”
“Didn't any of you think I should have a say in the matter?”
“I knew what the rodeo meant to you. I saw how your father resented giving it up because I insisted he come home and help me raise you kids. I was ready to divorce him if he didn't.”