9. Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Grayson
I hate hospitals. Nope, it goes beyond that. Add in all medical facilities of any type.
But I promised River I’d let her properly examine me.
In only a few days, all I want to do is please her. To hear that giggle, I suspect no one else ever does. To have her look at me like there’s nothing wrong with me.
So I’m here, sweating like a pig with my heart racing so fast I might faint.
Though I’d brushed everything off as fine, I hated seeing the concern in her eyes. Most have learned to ignore me if I’m showing pain from an injury. There’s not much that’ll stop me from getting on the back of a horse or a bull. So watching her green eyes soften with concern was enough to get me here.
It’s been a while since I came out this way. The University Hospital is one of the best around. It’s no surprise a woman as smart and talented as River would work here.
Nerves knot my stomach when I finally reach the door sign for the orthopedic suite. Eyeing the placard by the door, my molars grind. River’s name is listed below all the other men. Their order by last name of the alphabet, then River. Placed there at the bottom as if she was a last-minute thought or an obligation.
The worst part is I can’t do a damn thing about it.
I haven’t seen her since Saturday night after my ride. She’d been right there at the edge of the chute, smiling my way when I settled on that mean motherfucker. Ride Me Not is one of the toughest bulls around. One that’s often pulled for the professional rotations but was bred right here in Cole County by a local distributor.
Ride Me Not’s buck-off rate is ninety-eight percent, but last night, I rode him. He jumped and spun and kicked, but I wasn’t letting go. It was the ride of a lifetime. A new fire burning inside me I hadn’t felt ever. As if a hole I hadn’t known was there had been filled.
“Are you going inside?” an elderly woman mutters from behind me.
“Oh yes. You first, ma’am.”
Opening the door, I follow the woman inside. The space is decorated like any other doctor’s office. Single chairs and benches, with a few high chairs sprinkled throughout the space. Pictures of athletes and abstract paintings that remind me of a spa lining the walls.
I wait behind the woman at the check-in counter, my hands in my pockets.
Those nerves tighten my gut. I don’t want these X-rays because I don’t want to know what damage I caused this time. I’m damn near freaking out over her, too. Though I’ve talked to River either on the phone or via text every waking minute since I last saw her, I worry she’s not as into me as I am her. At this point I’m riding the line of unhealthy obsession and fuck if I care.
“Next.” Stepping up to the desk, I pull my wallet from the back pocket of my jeans. “Name?”
“Grayson Garrison.”
Blue eyes pop up to meet mine. Her face looks familiar, but I can’t place it. Then again, it’s easy to feel that way about most people in a small-town county like this. “You’re amazing. I saw you ride this past weekend.”
“Thanks. Just what I’m good at.”
I tip my head as if I have my cowboy hat, remembering I chose the ball cap River seems to like so much instead.
“Well, let’s get you checked in. ID and insurance card, please.”
I hand her both, watching her type away on her computer. “Looks like you did the forms online already, so you’re all set.”
My brow scrunches low. I hadn’t filled out anything, but maybe it’s just previous paperwork from the last time I was here.
“Thank you.” I take my cards back, aiming for the seat in the furthest corner where no one can see the bounce of my knee or the sweat beading on my face.
I’ve been sitting for five minutes when I’m called back.
“Have a seat. The doctor will be in shortly.”
Hopping up on the table, elbows resting on my thighs, my head bows.
My jaw is pounding and my hand throbs more than it has a right to, but it was worth it for the ride I had. A ride that could put me on the professional circuit. A dream I’m not even sure I want anymore. At one point it was supposed to be something for Tate and I to share, but then he stole that and ran off without me.
Logically, it was never something that would have happened, but until Tate left, it was something we always did together. The only way we ever seemed to have actually bonded.
“Mr. Garrison, please come with me.” A woman with blue scrubs pokes her head around the door before leading me down a long hallway. “We’re going to do your X-rays first. Dr. Thompson is tied up with another patient.”
“Okay.”
“Right in here.”
The woman coaches me on where to stand, then positions me on the table for the various views she needs of my face and hand. The entire time, my heart pounds. A cold sweat coating my forehead and slithering down my back.
There’s no chance of counting the number of times I’ve been in an X-ray or MRI machine. It’s part of the bull riding life, but after that accident at twenty, I haven’t been able to tolerate them.
That one ride almost took everything from me. I’d been exhausted. Run down after a bout with the flu and torquing my shoulder on the ranch, but I rode anyway. In my nightmares, I still hear Tate screaming when my hand caught in the rope. My body dangled oddly to the side while that bastard of a bull swung me around and then stomped on me. Only for my hand to come free just before he threw his rear legs up, crushing me between his hooves and the gate.
I’d been conscious the whole time. Terrified, I wouldn’t walk out of that arena. And I didn’t. I couldn’t move afterward, carried out on a backboard, and then rushed here.
Several surgeries later, they’d patched me up. The doctors told me I was lucky to be alive and that I should walk away. But I didn’t. Bull riding was who I was. Who I am. So I rehabbed and worked my way back up the circuit. Traveled to a few events, trying to gain professional attention, but it never felt the same.
In the end, I came back to Boulder Ranch, and it’s the only place I’ve ridden since.
“All done. Follow me.”
The same woman leads me back to the exam room I’d been in. This time, I plop into the chair, too jittery to get back on the table.
My heel taps, palms rubbing together as I wait for River to come review the results with me. The room is no different from any other. A computer monitor is in the corner. Images of the skeletal system on the wall. Cabinets filled with supplies and models of joints lining the windowsill.
A soft knock sounds at the door before River enters.
I immediately sit up, our eyes locking as if freezing us in time. The anxiety I felt over seeing her again melts away. Those green eyes still burn the way they have since she told me to take her for a ride.
“Hey.”
“You okay?” she whispers, shutting the door behind her, the tablet she’d been working on discarded on the counter before squatting in front of me. Her hands cup my knees, head tilting to the side, waiting for my answer.
“I hate hospitals.”
“Not surprising. I know about your prior… incident.”
“You—What?”
“Yeah, some of my partners here saw you were coming in and used you as our weekly case study. Gray. Geez. That was bad.”
Weariness coats her eyes, a glassy sheen washing over them. Is she upset about my accident?
“It was a long time ago. I’m okay.” My fingers grip her chin, placing a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth.
“I know. But…” She shakes her head, standing back to her full height before patting the table. “Up here, please.”
I do as she says, letting her palpate my hand and then my face again. “Bruising and swelling have come down a lot. You were icing like I told you to.” Not a question, but an observation. Normally, I don’t take care of myself the way I should after an injury, but something in me wanted River to know I took what she said seriously, even if I don’t always listen.
Another knock sounds at the door just as she pulls up the X-rays on the monitor.
“Hi, River. I wanted to check in on you and our patient here.”
“Dr. Buckner, I’ve got it handled. Thank you.”
“A second set of eyes never hurt. Some of us have been doing this longer than you young folks, River.”
There’s no mistaking the way her body quivers with anger. It’s there in the tensing of her jaw and how forcefully she clicks the mouse pulling up my hand X-rays first.
“So, Gray, you have a few—”
“River, do you mind stepping to the side so I have a clearer view?”
Who the hell does this guy think he is? “She gave you the respect of calling you doctor. I think you can do the same. On top of that, Dr. Thompson is my doctor. I didn’t consent to you being in here, so you can leave.”
“You’re a great case, son.” His arrogance grinds on me. The type who believes they have an open invitation to whatever show they want. I’ve been around too many riders just like him my whole life. That chip on their shoulder usually serving as their downfall.
“I’m not your son, and you’re not my doctor.”
He tucks his tablet under his arm, raising both hands in a placating gesture. “Right. You have a great day.” The man dips out of the room, tail tucked between his legs, but not before flashing the anger and resentment shining behind his eyes.
River keeps her back to me, head bowed, deep, uneven breaths funneling in and out of her nostrils mimicking gusts of wind. The rise and fall of her back so exaggerated I worry she may be the one to crack a rib this time.
“River.”
“I’m sorry you had to see that.”
I’m next to her in an instant, spinning her around to face me. “Don’t you dare apologize. That guy was an asshole for talking to you like that.”
She waves me off with watery eyes. “It’s nothing new.”
“Well, I’m not going to listen to it. You’re better than they are. They need to deal with it.”
She huffs out a laugh, attempting to pull out of my hold, but I don’t let her. “Ortho is a man’s world. I knew that when I took the residency.”
“River, I don’t care. You deserve to be treated with respect.”
Her body curls into my front, my arms wrapping around her.
“Thank you.”
I only drop my chin to rest on the top of her head, the two of us holding each other until she pulls away.
“Okay, so you have some fractures in your hand. Normally, I would say let’s cast it for a few weeks or at least brace it, but I know you’re not going to do that.”
“Can I still pickup ride if I do the brace?”
Her eyes dart up to meet mine, those long lashes fluttering in disbelief.
“Technically. Possibly. But the whole point is to immobilize the hand.”
“I’ll wear the brace and do what I need to do.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” I nod, wrapping an arm around her shoulder while she pulls up my jaw. “Is that broken too?”
“Nope. Apparently, Tate doesn’t punch that hard. Just needs time for the contusion to heal.”
My mouth finds hers, my palms crushing her cheeks.
“Thank you, baby.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Yes, you did. Every time I walk in here, I’m scared I won’t ride again. You’re the first person to try to meet me halfway.”
“I know what it’s like to want everyone else to respect what you do.”
I kiss her again, our mouths moving lazily. I’ll never get enough of her. The woman who understands me like no one else ever has.
“What are you doing tonight?”
Her nose wrinkles. “You.”
“I like that answer,” I chuckle, pecking her mouth again. “How about dinner first?”
“Only if it ends with Rocket, Bronc, and your cows.”
“Deal.”