Ridge (11 page)

“I’m Doctor Bullers. Get him on the table,” she said. This woman with the exotic appearance was far from what Kashley expected. Her rich light brown skin revealed a mixture of ancestors, but her eyes had a slight slant at the corners that hinted to Asian descent. Her average height was draped in loose pants and a gauzy white top, and she had a piercing in her nose. Along with the small braids in her dark brown hair fastened with metal beads, she looked more like a new age hippie than a doctor.

“I’m in the room, and I can take instructions,” Ridge snapped.

“Just let her do her job, Ridge,” West added. A sudden tension rose up, and Kashley pivoted in time to see a strange look pass between West and the doctor.

A slight smile appeared on Dr. Bullers’ lips as she trained her gaze on Ridge. Kashley sensed a kindred spirit. She’d definitely dealt with more than one ornery cowboy. But what had just transpired between her and West? Oh well, it wasn’t her business.

Ridge hopped onto the table and winced as he tried to straighten his leg. But it was clear that letting it dangle hurt too.

Kashley drew her brows together as she looked on. “He’s been having some problems with this knee for a while, but he landed on it.”

“I can see it’s swelling through your jeans. Do you think you can manage to get them off? Maybe with some help?” Dr. Bullers looked to Kashley, and she nodded.

Ridge slanted a look at Kashley, and a shiver of want ran through her. That definitely wasn’t a platonic help-me-get-my-pants-off-for-the-doctor look. It was a there’s-no-stopping-me-if-I’m-not-wearing-pants look.

“I’ll give you some privacy.” Dr. Bullers nodded to West, who flushed, and they left with the silent nurse.

The instant they were gone, Ridge let Kashley see the pain on his face, and all sexy thoughts fled.

“Oh Ridge. Is it bad?”

“I think I can manage with a few painkillers and icing it tonight.”

“You’re going to have to admit this needs more than some ice.”

They stared at each other for a long heartbeat. Finally, his pain must have won out. “Help me with my jeans, would you?”

He unbuckled them and pushed them down his hips. When he got to his thighs, she took over, easing the denim over his knees to puddle on his boots. Using his arms, he levered himself onto the table again.

“Fuck, it looks bad,” he ground out.

“I bet it feels bad.”

“Worse. Dammit.”

“Are you ready?” Dr. Bullers asked from behind the curtain, and Kashley replied they were.

The doctor began her examination. Asking him how long the knee had been bothering him and if he’d felt anything snap or crack during his fall. He hadn’t, which was a good sign, but Dr. Bullers didn’t look convinced that he’d be finishing out the event.

She stood back and folded her arms over her chest. “I definitely think you have some strain in this knee, but my years working with rodeo guys tells me you might have a tear. I can give you some names of top sports surgeons—”

Ridge grunted before she finished and dropped off the table onto his good leg. Then he bent and yanked his jeans back up. “No surgeons. No knives. I have broncs to ride, and I’m not slowing down, Doc. Now bind my knee and give me some ibuprofen.”

The doctor looked to Kashley for help, but she didn’t think she’d be able to budge the stubborn man either. Finally, she nodded, and the nurse started locating drawers on a cart, coming out with a fat roll of stretchy bandage.

Ridge sat again for her to wrap his knee, and Kashley watched closely to remember how it was done.

“Ice, elevate and these anti-inflammatory pills taken three times a day with food.
Rest the knee.
And consult a surgeon,” Dr. Bullers said. “Good luck, cowboy.”

He set his lips into a fine line, avoiding Kashley’s stare. But the minute they were alone, his gaze landed on hers, allowing her to see the torment he was feeling.

She moved close and put her arms around him. “It’s going to be okay. I’m not going to say that I agree with the doctor, because you’re going to do what you want.”

He snorted. “At least someone understands me.”

Her heart lifted at his words, but she resisted throwing herself at him more. He had enough going on in his life, and she didn’t know if she was a distraction or a complication right now. She leaned toward the latter.

When he wrapped an arm around her back and fitted her under his chin, she couldn’t help but hope again. “Thanks for being here for me, Kash. Let’s get back to the room and find that ice, okay?”

She nodded against his soft cotton shirt and then pulled away to look into his eyes. “I’ll see about borrowing some crutches.”

“No fuckin’ way. I’ve got this.” He jumped off the table and limped toward the door.

Now that was the Ridge she knew and loved.

* * * * *

They didn’t make it out of the arena before they were swarmed by reporters and their very own
Rope ‘n Ride
film crew. Kashley stuck by his side as they pushed through the throng.

The scents of beer and popcorn turned his stomach, and he realized some of his nausea was caused by his knee pain. It hurt like a motherfucker, and it took everything in him to walk with a normal gait so his limping steps weren’t recorded and splashed onto every TV screen in the country.

“Have you heard about Wynonna?” a reporter asked.

Ridge shot a look at Kashley. She was staring right back, eyes wide with surprise.

“Are the Calhouns trying to cause mayhem by beating up fans?”

Ridge’s mind knotted the two questions from different people into one. Wynonna—beating up fans.

He snagged Kashley’s sleeve and barreled through the crowd, pushing his way to the end of the hallway where he spotted West pacing. The minute their gazes locked, Ridge said, “Fuck.”

“What is it?” Kashley whispered. Several reporters still galloped along next to them, clinging to the hope that he’d give an interview or they’d catch him trying to propose to a new woman.

He pushed out a growl and steered her toward West by the elbow. Her bones felt fine and delicate in his grip, but strong muscle connected them. He’d seen her toss hay bales that would knock some men flat.

“Is your name Kashley Cross?”

She threw him a wild look. He nodded to say,
Yeah, word gets around.

“Are you and Ridge dating?”

He threw up a hand to block her face from the camera, but it was too late. She was compromised—exactly what he didn’t want. She hadn’t signed up for this reality hell, and she didn’t deserve to be attacked with rumors or worse.

“Take her. Get her out of here.” Ridge shoved her at West, who wrapped an arm around her and hauled her off. As Ridge turned to face the paparazzi, he caught Kashley’s desperate look just before she and West disappeared.

“Okay, I’ll answer your questions,” he drawled to the group.

“Will you marry me, Ridge?” came from a petite brunette at the front of the group.

“I’m sorry, but no. The Calhouns only like blondes.”

A titter of laughter through them all.

“Are you aware that charges are being pressed against you for striking that fan?”

“Don’t know anything about it.”

“Will you be helping Wynonna get out of her charges after the cops pulled her off the woman here in this very arena half an hour ago?”

Jesus. The cops? What the hell had Wynonna done? She’d just left him and Kashley. Of course, thirty minutes was nothing for his baby sister to hide a body.

Fighting back a growl, he responded, “Calhouns stick together. That’s all.” He thumbed his hat in farewell and twisted from the group. Cameras flashed. A cameraman from a popular TV show—that loved to show the worst in people—clung to him until he finally plastered his palm over the guy’s face and shoved him away.

Of course that was caught by another camera.

He stomped out to find West and Kashley—and his little sister—while battling his knee which threatened to give out.

Buck appeared at his side. “Calhoun circle. Now.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

Buck looked down at his leg, which was wrapped in a huge bandage. “What’d the doc say about your knee?”

“It’ll be fine. What the hell happened with Wynonna?”

Buck’s mouth pressed into a grim line. “I’m gonna tie her ass up, that’s what.”

Ridge almost laughed. For Buck to be frustrated with Wynonna, it must be bad. He was her biggest champion and probably half the reason why she acted the way she did.

“I think we’re going to have to start thinking about bodyguards,” Buck said as they reached the parking lot.

Ridge looked around. “Where the hell’s the meeting?”

“Far from the arena.”

“What about the rest of your events?” As far as he knew, they were still riding broncs. That meant team roping, barrel racing, tie-down roping, steer wrestling and of course bull riding was yet to come.

“We’re forfeiting. We’ve gotta get hold of ourselves—now.” Buck led him to his truck and pointed at the door.

Ridge bristled with annoyance but got in the passenger’s seat. “I’m only four years younger than you, Buck.”

“Yeah, well act like it.” He got behind the wheel and started the engine before he looked at Ridge. “Punching Lane? Really?”

“I feel like shit about it, but it’s not the first time any of us have fought.”

“And you shoved that cameraman back there. West told me.”

“Christ on a bike, are we five-year-old tattletales again?” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Where’s Kashley?”

His brother shot him a dark look. “Are you fucking around with her?”

Ridge sat bolt upright in the seat. “It’s none of your damn business.”

“Her father is a respected friend of our family, and he trusts us with her.”

“She’s not a kid anymore.” Ridge hated the defensive tone of his voice.

“Yeah, we all noticed.”

Ridge shot his brother a scowl. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That we know you were kissing her along the highway and it took a hell of a long time to get to Kansas. Then you disappeared into your room.”

“Again, not your business.”

Buck narrowed his eyes. “Are you aware of how this looks after you just broke things off with Anna?”

“She broke off with me, remember? Or haven’t you seen that episode?”

“It looks like you’re on the rebound, and if you are, then you need to do it with someone besides Kashley.”

His growl did rumble up this time. “We’re not doing anything, but it’s none of your business if we were. Now shut up about her, Buck. You’re the one who has a secret code with her to keep me in line.”

“That was a bad idea,” Buck admitted.

“Yeah, there aren’t any secrets in this family.”

“Which is how we all know about you and Kashley.”

Ridge snapped his mouth shut and stared out the window at the hotel where they’d arrived.
Family meeting, here I fucking come.

* * * * *

“Ridge attacked a fan at the preliminary round. Then he punched a guy in the face this afternoon, followed by an attack on Lane. And Wynonna laid out a Buckle Bunny.” Buck looked from Calhoun to Calhoun. “Anybody else have sore knuckles? It’s time to confess, because we’re gonna find out about it.”

“Don’t forget the cameraman I shoved a little bit ago,” Ridge grated out.

Kashley threw him a sideways glance, but he didn’t look back.

At Buck’s request, the film crew had left them alone and they were all sequestered in a small conference room in the hotel. Everyone was here except Channing, who wasn’t feeling well, and the babies, asleep in her room.

“We’ve got to get a handle on our behavior. They’re calling this season Calhouns Behaving Badly. Is that what our ma will want to hear? Would our father be proud?” Buck’s question fell upon them, and they all grew still.

Kashley had been in on more than one Calhoun scolding, and she’d always walked away feeling as if she’d been in trouble herself. But maybe she was. Messing around with Ridge was only adding more to his plate, and he was already at a snapping point.

When nobody spoke a word, Buck nodded. “That’s what I thought. Now the rest of this season, I want to see you putting your energy into rodeoing.”

Ridge jerked and rubbed at his knee under the table.

“If you feel like running amuck and punching people,” Buck eyed Wynonna, “then go find a better use for your time. Do a charity event or something.”

“That bitch needed slapped upside the head. If you’d heard what she said to me…” She sat rigidly, and Kashley knew she’d never back down on her belief that she’d acted appropriately. Of course, she hadn’t told anybody what was said to provoke her anger either. They might side with her.

“We need some whiskey in here.” Ridge stood up, latched onto the table to steady himself on his knee and then walked over to a sideboard where a hotel phone sat. He picked it up and ordered two bottles and ten shot glasses.”