Loving A Cowboy by Anne Carrole

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