“They wouldn’t like it if I died either.”
“You’re not gonna die.”
“From my arm? No. But from a broken heart?” She bats her eyelashes. “Those have killed more people than falls from horses ever did.”
The nurse cuts me an amused look. “Is she always like this?”
“No. She’s worse.”
Billie just grins. “I love being bad.”
The nurse shakes her head. “Can I trust y’all to behave while I go get the doc?”
“No,” Billie replies.
At the same time, I say, “Yes.”
Grinning, the nurse heads for the door. “Just clean up after yourselves.”
“Oh, this cowboy cleans up real nice, doesn’t he?” Billie asks.
I hang my head, smiling so hard my face hurts.
Danger danger danger.
But I choose to ignore the alarm bells going off in my head. I’m dealing with a legit emergency, for crying out loud. It’s a sin to put effort into keeping my guard up instead of keeping Billie’s spirits up.
“Since when do you know CPR?” Billie asks after the nurse leaves, closing the door behind her.
“Since your brother needed my help with Dean after Abby got sick. I was on babysitting duty a lot for a while there, and I wanted to be prepared in case, you know. Anything happened.”
Colt’s wife Abby died of cancer a few years back. Their son, Dean, was really young when she was diagnosed, so it was all hands on deck to provide childcare while Abby underwent treatment.
Billie sticks out that fucking bottom lip. “Aw, Ry. That’s adorable.”
Look. Away. From. Her mouth.
“Not so adorable when you have to perform CPR because you think someone’s in trouble. You gave us a real scare, Billie.”
“I leaned into the turn too much. I could feel myself coming out of the saddle, and next thing I know, I’m flying through the air, and then,bam.” She blinks, her throat working on a swallow. “Thanks, by the way. For the mouth-to-mouth.”
I scoff. This time, I have the peace of mind not to respond.
Instead, I lean forward to rest my elbows on my knees. I feel weirdly sore in my back and legs, like I was the one who fell off a horse. Who knew performing CPR for real was such a workout?
Or maybe it’s just my body coming down from the horrible adrenaline rush of thinking Billie Wallace might be paralyzed, or worse. To be stuck in a wheelchair after the ride of a lifetime—I can’t imagine. She looked so…fierce riding that cloverleaf. So free.
Soalive.
As cowboys, my brothers and I like to claim we’re free. Free from the tedium of desk jobs. Free from the pressures of the rat race.
Sometimes, though, when it’s late and I can’t sleep, I wonder why, if I’m so “free,” I feel like I’m slowly suffocating. Duke would talk about feeling suffocated too, before he met Wheeler. But that was because he was bored with life on the ranch and wanted to travel the world.
Me? I don’t mind life on the ranch one bit. In fact, I love being a cowboy. Working outdoors with animals, being part of a team of great people, the strength and stamina the job’s given me—I enjoy the hell out of it all.
No, this sense of being stifled comes from something else. Someplaceelse.
Someplace inside me. Maybe it’s the numbness I keep thinking about. Sure, not feeling much keeps me safe. But maybe it’s also cutting off my air supply. Because watching Billie ride was like having oxygen pumped back into my lungs. Now that I’m thinking about it, it feels…almost like waking up.
