Chapter Twelve
Jovie
It has been a crazy week.
Monday felt endless. Tuesday somehow longer. By Wednesday, I was surviving on caffeine, stubbornness, and the occasional reminder that I actually love what I do.
The rodeo academy finally hit its stride after the slower start. Once the students settled in and the schedule found its rhythm, the clinic stayed busy from sunrise to supper.
I gained a lot of hands-on experience, assisting Dr. Seth with physicals, blood draws, X-rays, medication administration, suture removals, charts, and paperwork.
Enough paperwork to make me question every choice that led me here.
Not that it was all boring.
I got to put my physical therapy knowledge into practice with a bull rider suffering from a pinched lumbar nerve.
Watching the relief on his face after traction therapy was incredibly satisfying.
Then there was a steer wrestler whose upper back was locked up tighter than a bank vault.
We used EMS treatment on him and had him moving normally again by Thursday.
Those moments remind me why I love sports medicine.
The paperwork?
Not so much.
By Friday afternoon, the clinic is unusually quiet.
Dr. Seth appears in the doorway while I’m updating patient notes.
He glances toward the empty waiting area and treatment space. “It’s Friday.”
I look up. “I’m aware.”
“Go enjoy yourself.”
I shake my head. “Clinic doesn’t close until the arena does.”
He smiles. “I think I can handle the rest of the afternoon.”
An afternoon to relax does sound nice.
“What if something happens?” I ask.
“I’ll text you.”
“What if something major happens?”
“I’ll call you.”
“What if—”
“Jovie,” he interrupts. His expression reads he’s not to be argued with as he points toward the door. “Get out.”
I save my notes and stand. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
That gets me moving. I shut down my computer and gather my things.
Ten minutes later, I’m heading toward my cabin with plans for absolutely nothing but my back deck and sunshine.
The thought alone makes me happy.
After spending most of the week inside fluorescent-lit rooms, fresh air sounds like heaven.
As I’m walking down the cabin row, I hear someone call my name. “Jovie?”
I turn and instantly smile. “Harleigh.”
Harleigh Storm is crossing the gravel path toward me, carrying a tote bag and an iced tea. We haven’t seen much of each other since I arrived, both busy with our responsibilities, but we spent plenty of time together growing up.
Not best-friend close.
But close enough.
She, Cabe, and I went to school together. We shared classes and played all summer. We kinda lost contact after high school. But we’re the kind of friends where years can pass, and we still pick up right where we left off.
She pulls me into a quick hug.
“Look at you,” she says. “Surviving the rowdy rodeo hopefuls?”
“Barely.”
She laughs. “That bad?”
“Ask me how many charts I’ve completed this week.”
“I’m scared to know. I remember how fearless Axle and Royce were at those ages.”
Her eyes fall to my bag. “Where are you headed?” she asks.
I shrug. “Honestly? Nowhere. It’s been a slow morning, so Seth kicked me out early.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah. I was thinking about finding somewhere sunny and quiet to read.”
Her face lights up. “I was gonna head down to the river for a bit. Wanna join?”
I blink. “The river?”
“Behind the main house.”
I laugh. “I know where the river is.”
“Good. Then we’re going swimming.”
“We are?”
She hooks her arm in mine. “We are.”
Actually, that sounds amazing. I love the river. We spent a lot of time on its banks when we were kids.
We make it to my cabin, and she waits on the porch while I change.
I pull on denim shorts, an oversize academy T-shirt over my white bikini, and quickly braid my hair.
Then I grab a ball cap, sunglasses, towels, a blanket, sunscreen, and a couple bottles of water before we head into the woods.
The trail is familiar.
The scent of pine drifts through the warm afternoon air. Birds chirp overhead, and leaves rustle softly in the breeze.
The farther we walk, the quieter the world becomes.
It’s nice.
After the nonstop pace of the week, neither of us seems in much of a hurry to fill the silence.
Eventually, Harleigh nudges me. “So, how are things between you and Cabe?”
I cut my eyes to her. “How do you mean?”
“You know, are you two a thing again?”
I laugh despite myself. Harleigh has always been direct.
The river finally appears through the trees before she can continue her interrogation.
The spot is beautiful.
Sunlight sparkles across the water, and the current moves lazily over smooth rocks. Towering aspens provide patches of shade. Wildflowers bloom along the banks.
The entire place looks exactly the way I remember.
A peaceful haven, hidden away from the rest of the world.
I smile.
We find a huge aspen near the riverbank and spread our blanket beneath it.
I kick off my sandals.
Drop my bag and start applying sunscreen.
A few minutes later, we’re both stretched out beneath the warm Wyoming sun.
The breeze feels incredible.
The river murmurs nearby.
And for the first time all week, I feel my shoulders completely relax.
“You never answered my question,” she says.
“Question?”
She looks over at me. “Cabe?”
“Oh, right. Cabe and I are just Cabe and me,” I say with a shrug.
“So, you’re dating? Not dating?”
“We’re friends for now,” I say.
“Friends. Like friends with benefits?”
I laugh. “Like friends. No benefits.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Well, boo. That’s no fun. Why not?”
I let out a sigh. “I don’t know. It just seems like it would complicate things come fall, when I have to head back to Colorado.”
Harleigh closes her eyes. “Some complications are worth the trouble.”
“You think so?”
One eye pops open and focuses on me. “Oh, yeah. Porter and I started out as a complication.”
Porter Garrison is the general manager of The Belicort Resort Hotel, owned by his family. Harleigh worked as an event manager at the hotel after graduating from the University of Wyoming. Apparently, the two of them had a heated office affair that turned into love. Cabe told me all about it.
“That’s different,” I say.
“How so?”
“Well, for one thing, you two live in the same town.”
“Eh, that’s just geography,” she says.
I roll onto my stomach and rest on my elbows. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” I confess.
“But you two have been a couple already,” she says.
“I know. But we were young, and it was easier then. Now, there are so many things in the way. Logistics is just one of them, but it’s more than that.
His life is here, and I want to travel, at least for a few years, and I don’t want him sitting around, waiting for me.
I’m afraid he’d end up resenting me. I love him too much for that to happen. ”
“Love. But not in love,” she says.
“How do you know the difference?” I ask.
She chuckles. “You just know.”
I pick at a clover at the edge of the blanket. “Maybe it’ll be that one day.”
“Maybe,” she repeats.
She closes her eyes, and for a while, we simply enjoy the peace—the sunshine and water.
I pull my book from my bag.
Harleigh rouses, and she notices the cover immediately. “Oh my God.”
“What?”
“You’re reading a hockey romance?”
I glance from the book in my hand to her. “It’s a good book.”
She laughs. “I’m sure it is.”
“It is.”
“How spicy? Because I watched this series on TV based on a hockey romance, and, damn, it was so hot that I became an instant hockey fan. And I’m not even sure what hockey is.”
I point at her. “Mind your business.”
That answer tells her everything she needs to know.
She bursts out laughing. “Oh, it’s spicy, spicy. You’re gonna have to lend that to me when you’re done with it.”
I hide my face behind the book. “Okay.”
A few minutes later, I become completely absorbed in the story.
The hero is six-foot-four, athletic, tattooed, and protective. He’s emotionally unavailable, and the heroine is a sharp-tongued academic, determined not to fall for him.
Naturally, she’s failing miserably.
A text notification startles me from my book haze, and Harleigh groans as she looks at her phone screen.
“Ugh. I have to go,” she says, sitting up. “The guy surveying the land for the guest ranch had something come up for Monday. Apparently, he can come right now, or it’ll be next month. I’m sorry.”
“No reason to be sorry. Go,” I say.
She gathers her things and tugs on her shoes. “It was great catching up. We have to do it again before you leave,” she says. “And I want you to meet Porter. Maybe you and Cabe can come to the hotel for dinner one night.”
“I’d love that,” I say.
I stand and give her a hug before she heads back to the trail.
“Jovie,” she calls back to me.
“Yeah?”
“When you’re in love, no amount of complications could prevent you from finding a way to make it work. If you and that cousin of mine are meant to be, it will happen, and you won’t be able to stop it.”