37. Dani
37
dani
I wake to the sound of incessant beeping and shuffling sounds left by human feet. My head is pounding relentlessly, and when I try to open my eyes, the blinding light seems to pierce right through my skull.
“Relax, hon,” I hear from my right. When a hand meets mine, I automatically know that it’s my mother here beside me.
I feel myself relax, knowing she’s with me.
I try to think of how I got myself into this situation. Was I riding? That makes the most sense. But who was I riding?
Lights dim from under my eyelids. “I turned the overhead light off. You can try to open your eyes again.”
I peek out from beneath them and see my worrying mother’s face. She smiles when I make eye contact. Sitting up slowly in the bed, or trying to, I realize that my left arm is in a cast.
“I broke my arm,” I state dumbly, racking my brain for information.
“You did, but it’s reset and should heal just fine. The doctors are more concerned about your head than your arm.”
“I hit my head?” I ask, raising my right hand to feel it. There’s a sizable goose egg on the back of it.
Mom frowns. “You don’t remember what happened?”
I close my eyes again and think. “I was…riding.”
“Yes, you were,” she confirms, waiting for me to finish.
Like a flash of light, the events of the accident hit me. Cade and I riding together, pushing the cattle down the valley. We’re riding the young horses Cade is training for the lodge.
Winds shift, spooking my horse, and I try to get her under control. I try to remain calm, but my adrenaline overrides my senses, and I lose control of the situation.
It goes on for a long few seconds before I finally cut my losses and pull my feet out.
But…something happened when I dismounted. Something hit me in the head .
“I got bucked off and then something hit me in the head, something hard.”
I open my eyes, and Mom nods. “Yeah, Cade said you were going down as the horse’s ass end was coming up, and you two collided. He was beside himself.”
Blinking, I realize no one else is in the room with us. “Where is Cade? Is he okay?”
“He’s all right,” she replies, fussing with the blankets around my legs. She turns to a small table and grabs a glass with a straw in it. “Try to drink.”
I obey, taking a swallow of water before returning to my questions. “Where is he?”
Mom sighs and takes a seat beside the bed, placing a hand on my leg. Her eyes are swimming with sympathy when they meet mine. “He was having a hard time. Mentally.”
I wait for more, watching her carefully, but she doesn’t continue. “He’s at home, then?”
She nods, a sad expression washing over her face as she looks down at her hand on my leg. “Yeah, honey. He’s trying to process.”
“But he knows I’m fine, right?”
“Oh, of course. I don’t think he would have left if he didn’t know that you would be okay. ”
She’s not telling me everything, and I don’t know if she’s trying to spare my feelings or Cade’s. “Mom, come on. What’s going on?”
Her eyes, surprisingly, well with tears that she blinks back. She squeezes the leg her hand rests on. “Being back in the hospital, watching someone you love in that bed, it’s very painful. I think you being in here brought up some bad memories.”
I pause, my breath stuck in my chest.
I remember visiting Donna in the hospital several times. She wanted her people around her in her final days. I also remember feeling unwelcome after I was dumped, but Mom and Dad still came to look after her. To be with Cal.
Cade must have experienced such heartbreak, and I feel for him. I can’t imagine watching your mom fade like that, especially at such an early part of life.
But…we’ve said forever.
If we said forever, that would include sickness and health. I would never leave him after an accident, would never bail on him when he was hurt.
He didn’t bail. He made sure you were safe and with your mom.
But, despite my inner arguments, I’m still hurt.
“He should be here,” I say softly, knowing I could only say that to my mom.
She lets out a breath and seems to be thinking through her words. “It’s a tricky situation, but I’ll be honest. I agree with you.” She nods and pats my good hand. “When you decide to spend your life with someone, you can’t pick and choose what you should do based on your fears. You gotta push them aside to do what’s best for your partner.” Her words get gruff near the end of her sentence, and I can see her own disappointment on her face.
And though her words validate my feelings, they also make me feel like crying.
Because she’s right. No matter how awful I feel about something, I would hope and pray I’d be there for Cade regardless.
A bit later, the doctor enters and checks me over. I have a severe concussion, and my arm will take six to eight weeks to heal completely.
Great. Six to eight weeks of no riding and spending the holidays in a cast.
“You were lucky. With your head,” she says, feeling around my head. “You hit it at a precarious spot.”
“I thought hitting your head anywhere was pretty bad. ”
She smiles and nods. “It is, but you hit low back here.” She touches just under my hairline. “Right above your spinal cord. Had you been thrown around a little rougher or hit by a horse hoof there, you may have injured your spinal cord, which would have basically rendered your legs useless.”
“Wow,” I say, blinking at her bluntness. “Thanks for the reality check. I’m suddenly grateful.”
She laughs again and shrugs. “It’s what I do.”
“So, what’s next then?” I ask, using my mom’s hand to help me reposition. I can already tell that I’m going to hate having a cast on my arm for the next couple of months. Riding will be impossible, but more than that, pulling up my pants when I use the bathroom is going to be ridiculous.
I roll my eyes at my silly thoughts and pay attention to the doctor.
“Next, you stay here overnight so we can keep an eye on that head of yours. Then we’ll likely let you go home tomorrow.”
“Great,” I say, only slightly annoyed that I have to stay the night.
The doctor leaves, and Mom retakes her seat, pulling her phone out of her pocket.
“Do you have my phone?” I ask, hoping I can use it to at least call Cade, make sure he’s okay and not spiraling.
“No, we couldn’t find it. Logan looked around the area you two went to ground, but he didn’t see it anywhere.”
I sigh, suddenly realizing how much I use my phone. A break is probably needed.
I think about the accident, some of it coming back to me in pictures, and I remember him yelling, telling me to dismount. I likely stayed on longer than I should have. There are times when bailing is safer for everyone.
I could picture Cade standing there, completely helpless in the situation, then me lying on the ground, knocked out cold, according to my mom. It was probably a terrifying sight.
“I know you’re worried about that boy. I have Dad going over to check on him,” Mom says, and I let out a breath of relief.
As mad as I am that he’s not here, I have to admit that I’m more terrified that he’ll use this as an excuse for something. I don’t want this to end up being the thing that separates us.
As soon as I was out of the hospital, I would head over to the ranch and find him .
Sometimes, you have to be the strong counterpart to your partner, and I was more than willing to take this burden off him as soon as I could.
Just as soon as I’m done napping.