Faith in the Cowboy (Taming the Cowboy) (16 page)

West followed his gaze to see Teresa sitting with them, bent forward with her hands between her knees as if she was cold, but he knew she was anxious. About Miguel or him, he didn’t know, and couldn’t let that distract him as the first bull entered the chute.

The first rider was as fortunate—or as good—as Liam, and stayed on the entire eight seconds. That didn’t mean any of them were out of danger. West ran to distract the bull while Ray guided the cowboy to safety, though he was alert to West in case he needed aid. But West managed to shoo the bull out the far gate without incident, and turned to face the next one.

The next cowboy wasn’t as lucky, or as good, but once the bull had tossed the cowboy, he trotted docilely out the far gate as if he was going for a stroll.

“Even I could have stayed on that bull,” Ray grumbled. “Boy needs to find another line of work.”

The third bull was ushered into the chute. The hair on the back of West’s neck rose when the animal huffed his displeasure. He exchanged a look with Ray, who also tensed. At least Ray could get in the barrel if it all went to hell. West was too big, and had to depend on speed and agility to protect himself.

When the chute sprang open, West went loose, ready for anything. The bull pivoted one way, then the other, twisting his body at the same time. For an animal that size, he had great control.

The young cowboy on his back, however, didn’t, and went flying. West immediately started for the bull to draw him away from the cowboy, who was face down in the dirt and not moving. And the bull noticed.

Ray ran forward and slapped the bull’s flank to get his attention, but the animal was intent on punishing the man who’d been on his back. West rounded the bull, shouts he couldn’t hear over the sound of his racing pulse tearing from his throat.

The bull turned his head and saw him, tossed his head and advanced on the fallen cowboy. West ventured closer, slapping the bull’s neck before dancing out of the way.

He wasn’t sure what happened next, but he felt like a bus hit him, crashing into his shoulder and the side of his chest. He went flying past the brindled hide and hit the dirt, hard. He pushed to his knees only to be kicked, hard, in the ribs. The last thing he heard before he blacked out was Teresa screaming his name.

Teresa paced the hall outside the emergency room. Grace had convinced her to let Liam go in with West, since none of them knew how bad his injuries were.

Bad enough for him to lose consciousness. God, God, why had she come? If she hadn’t been here, hadn’t brought her drama with her, he would be safe, he would be out drinking with his friends instead of on a stretcher in the ER.

She’d sent Grace away, knowing she needed to take care of Noah, and that left her nothing to do but pace the hall and wait for Liam.

Finally he walked out and took her arm to lead her down the hall a bit, away from others.

Her legs went watery, and she dropped into a chair, staring up at him. “God, is it that bad?”

Liam’s face was grim, a new look for the usually carefree cowboy. “A couple of cracked ribs. Nothing punctured, no internal bleeding. Some bad bruising, though, and he’s down for four to six weeks.”

“Oh, no! What’s he going to do? He can’t go back to firefighting, either, can he?”

Liam lifted a shoulder. “Maybe he could ride a desk for a while at the fire station. I don’t really know. He’s going to be hurting. I didn’t know if you wanted to see he got home, or if you wanted me to wait.”

She pushed her hand through her hair. “I came here to break up with him.”

Liam rocked back on his heels, eyebrows raised. “What?”

“My ex—he’s threatening to use my relationship with West to keep me from getting Emily back.”

Liam narrowed his eyes. “So instead of fighting for your right to have someone you love in your life, you’re going to walk away?”

Liam’s reaction surprised her. “It was just fun, just a diversion. It was never meant to be like you and Grace, never meant to be a happy ending.”

He scowled. “You think I went to bed with Grace for the first time thinking I’d end up married to her, with a kid? Hell no. She was gorgeous and I was cocky, and damn it, I couldn’t get her out of my head. I fell in love with her. I think you’re in love with West, and he’s in love with you. Why won’t you fight for him?”

She hadn’t expected to have this conversation with him, hadn’t expected him to care so much about his friend’s happiness, about hers. She shook her head. “I’m tired of fighting. I’ve fought for eight years, Liam. I was married to a total asshole, and had to fight for anything I ever wanted, sometimes at the risk to my own safety, and now that includes my daughter. I need to find an easier way, and if leaving West is easier, then I have to do it.”

Liam pressed his lips together, his brows lowered. “I don’t think it’s as easy as you think it will be.” He took a step back. “But I’m not going to be the one to tell him. You are.”

She nodded and lowered her head, not wanting to see the disappointment in his face.

“I didn’t think you were a coward,” he said before walking away.

That wasn’t fair. Liam led a charmed life. He was successful at his career, he’d won the woman he loved, with whom he shared his beautiful son. What did he know about being too tired to fight anymore?

She waited, impatiently, for West to be released. She was so tired, but she couldn’t sleep until she dealt with this.

Finally he stepped out of the ER, looking pale and drawn, Liam by his side. The set of Liam’s jaw told her what she already knew. She couldn’t do this tonight. West gave her a tired smile and she hurried to his side, unable to look into his eyes, knowing what she’d be doing in the morning.

“Do you have medicine?”

“I have the prescriptions,” Liam said. “I’ll get them filled, you take him home.”

She cast him a look, but nodded. “Do you need help?” she asked West.

He shook his head. “I’m good.”

She guided him to her car, full of questions she wanted to ask him, like what he was going to do now. But he was clearly exhausted, weaker than she’d ever seen him. That hurt, since she was so used to seeing him so strong. He would need her to be strong for him—if she could stay.

She buckled him into the front seat, since it hurt for him to reach across his own body. He brushed his lips against her cheek in gratitude, and shifted to lean back against the seat.

“Don’t fall asleep,” she warned. “I don’t know where your RV is.”

“Right.” He forced himself to sit up. “Do you remember how to get back to the arena?”

“Not really.” She had been in such a panic, following Liam to the hospital.

He grunted and gave directions, but that seemed to be all he could manage. She hoped he didn’t fall asleep before she got him into the RV—she’d never be able to get him inside by himself.

But no, he staggered in on his own. “Need help getting undressed,” he muttered.

She wanted to tease him about getting naked, but that just felt wrong under the circumstances. When he sat on the bed, she knelt before him and unbuttoned his shirt, then gasped when she saw the bruising on his side. Immediately she regretted her reaction. Shouldn’t she be stronger?

“I thought the Kevlar was supposed to protect you.”

“Did,” he said. “Would’ve been worse without it.”

“Where is the Kevlar? And the other shirt you were wearing?”

“Liam has them.” He stretched out cautiously on his back. “Can you get my jeans?”

She removed his shirt and his jeans, then drew a blanket over him. “Are you going to be able to sleep?”

“Yep,” he said, just as a knock came at the door.

“Liam,” she said, and went to get the medicine from him.

“You going to stay here tonight?” Liam asked, his tone sharp.

She nodded. She had her overnight case in the car, though she’d intended to try to get a hotel room.

“Good. He might need you.”

He might. The bad thing was, she needed him, too.

*****

Teresa woke up to see West frowning down at her.

“Why did you sleep out here?” he asked, motioning to the bed she’d made of the dinette.

She sat up slowly, gathering her tangled hair behind her. “I didn’t want to accidentally bump you and wake you.”

“Didn’t need to worry about that. Good drugs.” He turned on the sink by her head to fill a glass with water, and washed down more pills.

Her gaze returned to his bruised side. In daylight, it appeared even worse, since she’d attributed some of the shading last night to shadows. No, it was al bruise, and so dark. She reached a hand out, as if she could heal him with her touch. “Now’s the time to tell me it looks worse than it is.”

He chuckled and placed the glass on the counter. “You don’t like me to lie to you.”

She sobered and lowered her hand to her lap. When he moved back toward the bedroom, she climbed off the dinette-bed and straightened the cushions, gathering the blanket and pillow she’d used. He returned with a button-down shirt when he realized she wasn’t following him, slipped his arms into the shirt and leaned against the counter.

“What’s going on? Was that Miguel last night?”

“Yes.”

He swore. “I don’t mean to scare you, but I saw him at the aquarium the other day, in the restroom when I took the boys. He told me I had a nice family. I thought he was just a guy.”

She shivered. What had been Miguel’s intention, approaching West like that? She remembered the gun she’d found in the nightstand that had scared her enough to report his abuse to the police, to press charges. She knew he wasn’t supposed to have a gun now, but did he?

“Are you okay?” West asked, touching her arm.

She almost nodded, then shook her head. “You don’t like me to lie to you.”

He grimaced. “What can I do?”

What could he do? Even if he wasn’t hurt...no.

“Teresa.”

She heard it in his voice, the fear, the realization, and it broke her heart. “I need to put all my energy in getting my daughter back.” She said the words in a rush, before she could chicken out. “I can’t do this any more.”

He drew back, blue eyes going dark. “Can’t do what? Be with me?” His voice was flat.

“You make me—” She waved a hand over her head, at a loss for words. Want. Need.
Happy.
“I need to get her back, and I need to not be involved with anyone, or I might lose her.”

His face turned red. “Did he tell you that you wouldn’t be able to get custody because of me?”

She snapped her back straight and met his gaze, letting him figure it out.

He swore. “That asshole. Do you think a judge wouldn’t understand?”

“I think a judge took her away from me once. If another took her away permanently, well, I wouldn’t be any good to you anyway. I could never be happy again, knowing I chose you over her.”

“We can talk to the judge, explain—”

“Explain what? That we were just having fun but it got kind of emotional?”

“Kind of emotional? I’m in love with you, Teresa.” As he said it, he winced and paled.

She reached a hand to him. “You’re hurting yourself. Stop it. Just...please just understand. I need to do this for my daughter.”

“And what about for you, Teresa? What do you need for you?”

She shook her head, surprised her eyes were dry when her whole body hurt, feeling as bruised as his looked. “I can’t have it. I’m sorry, West. Are you—are you going to be okay?”

He glared at her, his eyes moist. “What do you think?”

“I meant—” She motioned to his side.

“I know what you meant.”

She stared at him for a moment, never having heard that tone from him. Then she turned and fled.

*****

Teresa wished she hadn’t cut her nails so short. She savored the bite of them in her palms when she was nervous, and boy, was she nervous.

Today was the hearing to see if she’d get custody of Emily.

She paced the tiled floors of the county courthouse, her nerves rising. Grace was here, somewhere, with Teresa’s lawyer, going over her testimony. Just as well. Teresa didn’t think she could slow down long enough to talk to her friend.

A particularly vicious wave of nerves had her bolting for the bathroom—a challenge in her seldom-worn heels—and she made it to the toilet in the nick of time, losing the little breakfast she’d managed to choke down. She rested her head on her hands for a moment, trying to find some sense of control. She’d never win back her daughter if the judge saw what a wreck she was.

She flushed and walked out of the stall, smoothing her hands down her skirt. As she was bent over the sink in an attempt to rinse out her mouth, the door opened and Layla walked in. Teresa snapped straight, wondering just how much more miserable she could be. She braced herself to see what the woman would do. She hadn’t yet seen Miguel and hoped he’d keep his distance.

“How is Emily?” Teresa asked, her voice rough. “Is she anxious?”

“She cried all night.”

Teresa scrubbed a hand down her face, probably taking the last of her make-up off. “Why are we doing this to her if we want what’s best for her?”

Layla’s eyes hardened. “We
do
want what’s best for her, or we wouldn’t be here.”

Teresa’s stomach lurched again, but this time she battled the nausea successfully. Layla, however, didn’t miss the hand Teresa lifted to her mouth.

“Are you pregnant again?”

For a moment, the world spun, and Teresa gripped the edge of the sink, grateful for the cool porcelain to cool her. “What?”

“You turned green out there and ran in to throw up, didn’t you?”

“It’s nerves, is all. Everything is at stake.” It couldn’t be anything else. She had left West almost a month ago. She wouldn’t go back to him now and tell him she was having his baby. It would hurt too much. She drilled the older woman with her glare. “Everything. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Thankfully, Grace was coming out of a room with Mr. Richaud at the same time, and had gum so Teresa could get the taste of vomit out of her mouth, but not the fear of what her nausea might mean.