the doctor said. “You’re gonna need a ride home.”
“I’m driving.” Lane grunted.
“Not after I get done with you, you’re not,” the doctor said. “This is gonna hurt.” She looked up at Sarah. “Pulled a tendon in his arm, maybe tore it. Bruised those ribs real good too, but I don’t think they’re broke.”
She busied herself fashioning a sling with competent but not terribly gentle hands while Lane tried to figure out which hurt worse—the wreck itself, or the doctoring afterwards.
“Take two of these.” The doc handed him a small white envelope. “And let your lady friend take that beat-up carcass of yours back home.”
“Keep your pills. I’m not taking that stuff.” He slid off the table, which jarred his injured arm and sent a bolt of pain rocketing through his ribs. Sarah grabbed his good arm, but he shook himself loose.
“Yeah, you are.” The doctor snatched the envelope from him and shook one into her palm. “It’s an anti-inflammatory. You want to ride tomorrow, you’ll take it.”
He grumbled but obeyed when she handed him a Dixie cup of water.
“Tomorrow?” Sarah turned to the doctor with wide eyes.
“You can try and stop him, but I doubt you’ll have any luck.”
“How can he be that… that…”
Lane tried not to look smug as she fished for the right word and resisted the impulse to help her out. Brave, maybe. Courageous. Indomitable.
“That stupid ,” she blurted out.
“It’s a cowboy thing.” Doc Myrna walked Sarah to the doorway, both women ignoring Lane as he trailed behind them. “You can’t do a damn thing about it. They got to learn on their own.” She shrugged. “Just get him home and take good care of him. That’s about all you can do.”
“I’m right here,” Lane protested. “And I can take care of myself.”
“Right. That’s why you’re thinking of getting back on a bull tomorrow,” Sarah said. “But Doc, I’m not taking care of him. I told you, I’m not his girlfriend.”
The doctor gave her a saucy wink. “Give him a couple of these and he’ll think you are.” She handed Sarah another pill envelope. “They’re for pain.”
Sarah glanced back at Lane. He’d hunched his shoulders, probably to protect his injured rib, but he straightened up and did his best to look unconcerned when he caught her gaze.
“I’m fine,” he said again.
The two women eyed him, then looked at each other and executed simultaneous eye-rolls.
“Anything wrong with leaving him alone for the night?” Sarah asked.
“Not for his sake, but maybe for yours.” The doc winked again. “I saw you looking, girl. That’s some prime, Grade A cowboy you got there.” The smile faded along with the good-natured gleam in her eyes, and she patted Lane’s good shoulder with a surprisingly gentle hand. “Take care of him, okay?”
Chapter 7
“How bad is it?” Sarah asked as soon as she and Lane were out of the doctor’s earshot.
Lane scuffed his feet and shrugged, wincing as he lifted his shoulder. “I’m okay, but I could use some help getting my gear. Somebody probably grabbed it for me, but by morning they won’t remember they have it.” He tugged at the sling. “And carrying it’s going to be a problem.”
Great. She was with the most powerful, muscular man she’d ever met and she was going to have to carry his bags.
He strode confidently toward the area past the stands where the cowboys parked their trucks and horse trailers, forcing her to trot to keep up. Vehicles were scattered haphazardly around the wide, dusty lot, some lit only from within, some running with lights beaming out into the night. The sharp, acrid scent of exhaust overlaid the earthier scents of cows and horses as a big diesel pickup rumbled past.
“Hey.” A cowboy seated on the tailgate of a parked truck gave Sarah a friendly smile. He was rolling a cigarette, something he’d evidently done many times before, since he didn’t watch his hands as they pinched and
“I’m driving.” Lane grunted.
“Not after I get done with you, you’re not,” the doctor said. “This is gonna hurt.” She looked up at Sarah. “Pulled a tendon in his arm, maybe tore it. Bruised those ribs real good too, but I don’t think they’re broke.”
She busied herself fashioning a sling with competent but not terribly gentle hands while Lane tried to figure out which hurt worse—the wreck itself, or the doctoring afterwards.
“Take two of these.” The doc handed him a small white envelope. “And let your lady friend take that beat-up carcass of yours back home.”
“Keep your pills. I’m not taking that stuff.” He slid off the table, which jarred his injured arm and sent a bolt of pain rocketing through his ribs. Sarah grabbed his good arm, but he shook himself loose.
“Yeah, you are.” The doctor snatched the envelope from him and shook one into her palm. “It’s an anti-inflammatory. You want to ride tomorrow, you’ll take it.”
He grumbled but obeyed when she handed him a Dixie cup of water.
“Tomorrow?” Sarah turned to the doctor with wide eyes.
“You can try and stop him, but I doubt you’ll have any luck.”
“How can he be that… that…”
Lane tried not to look smug as she fished for the right word and resisted the impulse to help her out. Brave, maybe. Courageous. Indomitable.
“That stupid ,” she blurted out.
“It’s a cowboy thing.” Doc Myrna walked Sarah to the doorway, both women ignoring Lane as he trailed behind them. “You can’t do a damn thing about it. They got to learn on their own.” She shrugged. “Just get him home and take good care of him. That’s about all you can do.”
“I’m right here,” Lane protested. “And I can take care of myself.”
“Right. That’s why you’re thinking of getting back on a bull tomorrow,” Sarah said. “But Doc, I’m not taking care of him. I told you, I’m not his girlfriend.”
The doctor gave her a saucy wink. “Give him a couple of these and he’ll think you are.” She handed Sarah another pill envelope. “They’re for pain.”
Sarah glanced back at Lane. He’d hunched his shoulders, probably to protect his injured rib, but he straightened up and did his best to look unconcerned when he caught her gaze.
“I’m fine,” he said again.
The two women eyed him, then looked at each other and executed simultaneous eye-rolls.
“Anything wrong with leaving him alone for the night?” Sarah asked.
“Not for his sake, but maybe for yours.” The doc winked again. “I saw you looking, girl. That’s some prime, Grade A cowboy you got there.” The smile faded along with the good-natured gleam in her eyes, and she patted Lane’s good shoulder with a surprisingly gentle hand. “Take care of him, okay?”
Chapter 7
“How bad is it?” Sarah asked as soon as she and Lane were out of the doctor’s earshot.
Lane scuffed his feet and shrugged, wincing as he lifted his shoulder. “I’m okay, but I could use some help getting my gear. Somebody probably grabbed it for me, but by morning they won’t remember they have it.” He tugged at the sling. “And carrying it’s going to be a problem.”
Great. She was with the most powerful, muscular man she’d ever met and she was going to have to carry his bags.
He strode confidently toward the area past the stands where the cowboys parked their trucks and horse trailers, forcing her to trot to keep up. Vehicles were scattered haphazardly around the wide, dusty lot, some lit only from within, some running with lights beaming out into the night. The sharp, acrid scent of exhaust overlaid the earthier scents of cows and horses as a big diesel pickup rumbled past.
“Hey.” A cowboy seated on the tailgate of a parked truck gave Sarah a friendly smile. He was rolling a cigarette, something he’d evidently done many times before, since he didn’t watch his hands as they pinched and
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