1
Tyson Greene slipped into the apartment he shared with his roommate and quietly closed the door behind him. He twisted the deadbolt, glad Jacob had left the light on above the sink.
Ty didn’t normally stay out past nine PM, let alone midnight, as he worked at Lone Star stables three days a week and had recently started to run a crew at the apple orchards for one of his best friends, Colt. He reminded himself of that as he limped along the back of the couch, using it to steady himself.
But today was technically New Year’s Day, and he didn’t have to work at all. He’d need the rest after the big barn party-dance out at Three Rivers Ranch, which was like a second home to him.
Ty moved into the kitchen, every move causing a new pain to shoot through his body. He really couldn’t let himself get like this, and he stood at the kitchen sink and ran the water cold while a flash of gratitude moved through him that he’d made it home safely.
His physical body often gave out before his mind, and he’d been progressing nicely in his physical therapy, and felt nearly fully recovered from his injury, that he sometimes thought he could do morethan he actually could. His body would literally shut down at that point, and it didn’t matter if Ty was behind the wheel, had access to a chair, or managed to make it to a bed.
He looked out the window and into the darkness beyond. During the day, he could see the playground across the sidewalk from the apartment where he and Jacob lived. Right now, he only saw his own reflection—and wow, he looked exhausted.
He reached to the slim cabinet beside the sink, and he pulled down a bottle of painkillers. In his back pocket, his phone buzzed, but Ty kept his focus on swallowing the pills he’d need to make it through the night.
He’d have to look at his phone, because ten to one, the text he’d just gotten had come from his mother. She’d want to make sure he’d gotten home okay. He couldn’t blame her for asking, though at almost thirty-two years old, Ty was tired of being checked up on.
No, it’s not that, he thought. He’d run the rodeo circuit for years without his parents checking on him all the time. It had just been in the last couple of years, since his catastrophic and career-ending injury, that his momma and daddy felt the need to drop by just to “see how he was doing,” or text to see if it was “a good day or not,” and then call if he didn’t respond.
He couldn’t blame them. He’d had a series of surgeries, and at one point, the doctors had told him he might not be able to walk again.
He’d completely lost his hearing in his left ear and, right now, a massive headache throbbed behind his eyes, in his temples, and along the back of his skull. The entire left side of his body felt like someone had weighed it down with a fifty-pound sandbag, and no matter how many times he drew his left shoulder back to try to make his body square, it drooped forward again.
He threw back two acetaminophen, four ibuprofen, and oneSimply Sleep, then chugged several more swallows of ice-cold water to chase the pills all the way down.
He tried not to take painkillers if he could avoid it at all, knowingthat it didn’t do great things for his kidneys. But after a New Year’s Eve dinner with a live band and dancing, games, and after-dark horseback riding, every cell in Ty’s body felt like someone had hammered on it with an electric jackhammer.
He reached to flip off the light and turned to face the house, leaning into the corner of the kitchen cabinets to give his eyes a chance to adjust. As shapes became lighter and darker shades of gray, Tyson pushed away from the corner and, leaning on the fridge and then the walls for support, he went down the hall to his bedroom.
He closed the door behind him and picked his way over to the bed, discarding everything except his boxer shorts. When his boots came off, pure relief sang through Ty’s soul.
His back spasmed as he sat on the bed, and while it didn’t truly hurt, the involuntary motion definitely felt weird and triggered in his nerves as pain.
He positioned his pillows up against the wall, then lay down on his right side and scooted back into them so that the towers of foam could support his body for him.
He sighed when he remembered his phone, and he reached for the grabber he had positioned in the slim space between his bed and nightstand. It was about four feet long, and he could pull a trigger that would make two prongs come together, so he could grab things without having to bend over or get out of bed. He had to lean forward enough to reach his jeans, and it took his last ounce of energy to pull the denim close enough that he could grab the pants and extract the phone from his back pocket.
He’d kept his phone on silent all night, because he hadn’t wanted to justify himself to his parents about how much he could handle at the New Year’s Eve party. Falling down at the summer dance, though it had been six months ago, had renewed their concern over him. It didn’t help that he’d never been back to another dance until this one.
Yes, he’d stayed out of the spotlight and near chairs. He’d danced with a few friends, and even his cowboy friends’ wives.
Ty had not been on a date in six months either, and that hadprompted the second reason why he’d kept his phone on silent. His older sister Carolina had gotten engaged over Christmas, and the family group text that kept Ty so connected to his two siblings and his parents now felt like a war zone of emotions that he had to navigate on an hourly basis.
Of course, he was happy for Carolina, especially since she’d been trying to find a husband for a lot longer than he’d even considered dating. His younger brother Bryan had a pretty serious girlfriend too, and not having anyone simply solidified Ty’s role in his family as the black sheep.
His two siblings had stayed around Three Rivers, and he’d left the moment he could. They’d gone to college or trade schools and worked in agriculture or business.
He’d joined the rodeo, and the only classes he’d ever taken were American Sign Language classes, and only in the last year.
If he hadn’t been thrown from that two-ton bull a couple of years ago, he’d still be on the rodeo circuit. Heck, he might even be married to Jenn.
A scoff fell out of his mouth, because in the stages of grief over losing that relationship, he’d definitely entered the angry one. Some days, he thought he’d moved on from her completely, but after a disastrous date with someone he’d had no romantic feelings for, he certainly didn’t want to try a relationship with someone he did want to impress.
After all, what was impressive about him?
A calm, quiet feeling came over him, and his mind cleared, save for the thought of Trevor White. He too had been injured in an awful accident almost a decade ago, and the man had just gotten married in October.
Ty’s anger faded, and while he hadn’t quite made his pilgrimage back to organized religion and attending church meetings, he could acknowledge God’s hand and love in his life. In quiet moments like these, he knew his life had been spared for a reason he didn’t know yet.
