Kissing the Bull (8 page)

But when he’d been hurt the
first time around, she came and sat by his bed for weeks, encouraging him and
making him feel like a man. When he’d recovered and decided to go back on tour
despite the dire warnings from the doctors, she’d begged him not to go. She’d
even told him she was pregnant with his child.

He hadn’t believed her. He’d
thought she was desperate to make him stay and was trying to trap him. He’d
been wrong.

It hadn’t been until after his
second injury he’d found out Charlee had been killed in a car accident and
she’d left a son, aged fourteen and alone. He’d spent the next few months
trying to find the boy, but Duane
Markum
had found Wyatt
drinking himself to death in a hotel room just outside Lexington first.

When he’d taken the job at the
Markum
ranch, Duane had helped him find his son, who was then
living with foster parents. He’d brought Walker home to the ranch, and the
Markums
had helped him with the boy for the past year.

They’d come a long way, but
were still getting to know each other slowly. That was one reason he so
desperately wanted to buy the ranch.
To make a good home for
his son and to make things right.
Now he’d screwed things up for
everyone in his life once again.

He found himself “kissing the
bull” again. Not by hurting himself but by hurting his son, the
Markums
, and their niece, who’d been an innocent bystander
in the mess of a life he’d created.

“Sheriff?”
A waif of a woman wearing blue surgical
scrubs appeared before him with a soft smile.

He looked up and tried to
return the smile, but he knew it looked feeble.

“Your son is asking for you.”

“Thank you.” He stood and made
his way into the room.

Walker was sitting up in bed
but still looked pale and weak. He wanted to punch himself for putting the boy
in harm’s way. He’d been an innocent bystander in all of this as well.

“Dad, I need to tell you
something.”

Wyatt stopped in his tracks.
Walker hadn’t ever called him Dad. In the year and a half they’d become
reacquainted, he’d called him Wyatt or Sheriff, often using the latter with
blatant sarcasm.

This was the first time he’d
acknowledged Wyatt was his father. It was almost enough to bring tears to his
eyes, but bull riders never cried.

“Okay, I’m here.”

“I started the fire.”

Wyatt thought he’d been shocked
enough today, but nothing could have prepared him for that.

“You
what
?”

Walker swallowed and tears
began to flow down his face. His voice sounded raspy and torn with grief.

“I’m so sorry. I hope no one
else was hurt and I’ll work or do whatever it takes to repay the
Markums
. I’m so very sorry.”

The boy cried. A wave of anger
churned through him, but at the look of sorrow and defeat on his son’s face,
the anger quickly abated.

He sat on the edge of the bed
and took his son’s hand.

“Why would you do that?” He wanted
to remain calm and he hoped it came across that way now.

“I wanted to get your
attention. Show you I was an adult.
Or at least old enough to
learn how to ride a bull.
You won’t let me because of what happened to
you, but that doesn’t mean it will happen to me. You’ve got to trust me. Let me
experience life for myself.”

Wyatt listened but still didn’t
understand.

“Why would setting fire to the
field house get me to let you bull ride?”

Walker sniffled as he scratched
at the IV tape on his forearm.

“I was smoking a cigarette. I
decided to take up smoking. To show you I was a real man. Like some of the
other cowboys on the ranch. But they were nasty. I couldn’t even make it
through one cigarette. I tossed it when it made me cough and gag.”

Wyatt blinked at him. He had
such an innocent face. He really was just a kid, but with the body and attitude
of a young man.

“I guess I didn’t put it out as
much as I thought I had, and it accidentally caught the place on fire. I tried
to put it out but it got too big, too fast.”

His words broke into sobs as he
got them out.

Wyatt leaned in and pulled the
boy gently into his arms.

“Okay, son.
Okay.”

****

Baylor dreamed she was
drowning. Somehow she knew it was a dream, but she still couldn’t seem to shake
the feeling that she was really going under.

She reached out her hand.
Seeking help from anyone, she reached and waited. Her lungs burned from the
effort to hold on, while small bubbles of air puffed from between her lips and
rose to the surface.

She could see the light above
her, but no matter how hard she kicked, she made no progress. Should she give
up? It would be so easy to give up. She’d given up with the boy, hadn’t she?

She’d fought so long and so
hard for someone to believe her, but finally it was too late and all her efforts
were for nothing. If she gave up now, then she wouldn’t have to feel the pain
any longer.

One last time, she reached out
her hand.

A strong, rough hand grasped
hers and pulled. She held on, a small seed of hope sprouting in her mind. Maybe,
just maybe, she could hang on a little longer.

“That must have been some dream.”
Wyatt’s voice reached her ears and brought a smile to her lips.

Wyatt was so angry with the
world yet so sad inside. He was so tough to everyone else but so gentle with her.
Was he even real?

She opened her eyes to find him
staring back at her, a warmth emanating from him she’d never felt before.

“If you’d wanted me to leave
town, all you had to do was ask,” Baylor said in a deadpan voice.

He laughed. She wanted to laugh
but it hurt too much, so she reveled in the fact she could make him laugh.

“I know it has been hell on you
since you got here a couple days ago. I’m sorry for my part in all of that.”

She reached up and cupped his
chin in the palm of her hand.

“Is Walker okay?”

Wyatt smiled at her. “He’s
grounded but he’ll live long enough to serve out his punishment at least.”

She didn’t understand what he
was talking about exactly, but she could tell something had changed in this
man. Something significant had happened while she was dreaming.

“How long have I been asleep?”

He looked up at the clock on
the wall.
“Oh, about three hours.
The doctor says
you’ll be fine, but you’ll need someone to care for you for a few weeks.”

He ran his finger down her arm
and then laced his fingers through hers.

“Know anyone who might be up
for the job?”

“I might know of a guy.” He
leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips.

She felt as if she could
breathe again. Felt like something new had bloomed inside her since arriving in
Kentucky where the grass was green and the man of her dreams lived.

“I’m thinking of selling the
ranch,” she said. He stopped the circular pattern of caresses on her hand and
his eyes searched hers.

He looked brave and calm, but
she could tell her words bothered him.

“I was thinking you might like
to buy half of it and we can run it together.” With those words, she put him
out of his misery and his face lit up with a smile that filled her completely.

“What’s your thought on
starting a bull rider training camp?” he asked, raising his brows in question.

This surprised her almost as
much as her statement about selling the ranch had caught him off guard.

“I thought you’d given up bull
riding for good.” A worry started to creep inside her heart. She didn’t want
any more pain or loss. She wanted to be happy for once.

“Yes, I have, but my son wants
to learn and if anyone is going to teach him, it’s going to be me.”

She nodded.
“But
what about your job as sheriff?”

He smiled as he lifted her hand
and pressed his lips to the back of it.

“Well, I know you’ll find this
hard to believe, but we rarely have any crime in this town.”

Then, she laughed.
Despite the pain in her abdomen.
Despite
the uncertainty of her future.
Baylor laughed until tears rolled down
her cheeks.

Wyatt eased down onto the bed
beside her and wrapped his arms around her.

“Say you’ll stay with me, peanut.”

Baylor turned to look at him.
Deep in his eyes she saw love. It was what she’d been missing in her life all
along, but she’d had to meet the toughest cowboy in the South to find it.

Sometimes life threw a woman
just like an angry bull. But sometimes, if you’re lucky, you fall into the arms
of the man of your dreams.

She kissed the tip of his nose,
closed her eyes, and melted into his arms.

 
“I’ll
stay, Sheriff. I’ll stay.”

The End

www.kerrinelson.com

Other
Books by Kerri Nelson:

www.evernightpublishing.com/pages/Kerri-Nelson.html

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www.evernightpublishing.com