Chapter 6 #2
“Like hell you did!” she shouted in return.
“You’re in no condition to handle that horse right now.
You’d despair, and he’d know. He’s a sensitive animal.
He has to focus on getting through physical therapy, very much like you do.
He deserves every chance to make as full a recovery as is physically possible, or everything that’s gone into saving him was wasted.
Same goes for you. There’s a pattern here, in case you’re not seeing it.
Fifty bucks says you’re yelling at me because you’re making asinine assumptions about how I pity you, sitting in the house in the wheelchair.
” She sucked in a breath and blew it out on a harsh exhale before pushing forward.
“Do the responsible thing for once in your life and put someone else’s needs in front of your own.
Don’t go see Gizmo until you can keep from treating him as if he’s crippled.
And do yourself a favor. Stop forcing everyone else to regard you, and treat you, the same way. ”
Every bit of heat drained from his face as Ty listened to her accusations. He nodded, fighting to swallow the emotion clogging his throat.
She stepped forward and loomed over him.
The move forced him to roll his eyes up to see her. “Step away, would you?” he bit out.
“Move your chair.”
“You coldhearted—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” One degree further and the ice in her voice would have rimed the windows.
“I know you’ve been handed a raw deal, but don’t let yourself be reduced by circumstance to calling a woman foul names.
You’re a better man than that. Or you were.
” He started to defend himself, but she waved a hand between them and spoke over him, drowning out any defense he might have delivered.
“I’m exhausted, I haven’t been home in two months and I missed my chance at nationals because I was playing nursemaid.
You owe me courtesy—no, you owe me bone-deep gratitude.
” Blue eyes sparked wildly as heat climbed her cheeks.
“I’m not willing to negotiate on that. Like it or not, you owe me. ”
He closed his eyes and blindly steered his chair away from her. They both knew she’d taken the gloves off with that last comment.
Tyson Covington rarely owed anyone, and when he did? He always paid up.
Always.
KENZIE STORMED OUT of the house, a sticky miasma of dark emotion roiling through her. Fear. Heartache. Frustration. Compassion. Fury. There were more—so many more—but none she’d ever thought she’d have to deal with in relation to Ty Covington.
Liar.
“Damn it, Mackenzie Malone, you knew what you were getting into with this.” The impact of her cowboy boots on hard earth punctuated each step. Yanking her ball cap off her head, she slapped it against one leg in time with her stride as she headed to the barn with new purpose.
She wouldn’t walk away from Gizmo. She’d known him since he’d started traveling with Ty as a yearling to get used to shows.
She’d watched him from his first performance.
From day one, he’d been magnificent. One of the worst moments of her life had been looking into his pain-filled eyes that seemed to plead with her for salvation. Any salvation.
She usually harbored incredible guilt about using her trust fund—guilt that half that money used to belong to a brother she’d cherished. Guilt that all the money in the world couldn’t bring him back.
Not this time. This time the money had managed to save someone.
But for all she’d operated on the belief she’d done right by Gizmo and Ty, the man had proved in a matter of minutes that this thing between them—this debt incurred, this debt owed—would stand between them.
The thing that made her angriest was that he had jumped all over her for doing the very things he’d asked her to do. How could she ever win against someone who asked for an immense favor and then punished her for giving him what he’d asked for?
No, she hadn’t called him. There was a reason, though—a reason she wasn’t ready to face, let alone own.
Pausing, she leaned against the shiny trailer, shocked by the cold when she touched her forehead to the metal. “Take your own advice and suck it up.” Wide-open space swallowed her quiet words, protecting her from being overheard.
Okay, fine. I’ll deal with the truth. She’d known Ty would have trouble talking around the neck brace. That he wouldn’t be able to cope with verbal updates on Gizmo’s condition, particularly when it had been iffy whether the horse would ever walk again.
She thumped her head against the trailer. “Chickenshit.” Louder than her last admission, but the harsh accusation was still for her ears alone.
Truth, then, she thought. Real, hard truth.
She’d known she’d be returning Gizmo to the Covington ranch.
She’d see her commitment through to the end.
She didn’t shirk her duties or shy away from the hard stuff when it came down to brass tacks.
But she hadn’t been sure she could face Ty’s condition.
He would walk again, but no one knew how well.
And ride? That was up in the air at the moment.
And ride Gizmo? That was so far in the future that the calendar hadn’t even been printed yet.
“Truth,” she said again, the self-command a rough one. It was all these things and more that scared her, but seeing Ty broken had been enough to nearly drop her to her knees.
The vibrancy of the man had been diminished by both circumstance and the reality he now faced.
She could see it in his face, that knowledge.
That moment when she’d stepped into the house, that moment when she simply observed the near hopeless desperation on his face, had ripped her heart out.
When he’d rounded on her, she hadn’t blamed him.
Not one bit. But pride wouldn’t let her take poor treatment from him, either.
She was in over her head where that man was concerned.
She’d spent the past two months lost in a world of probabilities and survival statistics.
She hadn’t applied those to the man who meant so much to her.
At least, not until she saw him. Now? The idea that he might not ever be 100 percent again made her want to scream at the heavens over the injustice.
“You look as though you could use this.”
Kenzie spun around so abruptly she knocked the ceramic mug out of the redhead’s hand. Rich, dark coffee splashed out in flash-frame movement, the cup tumbling to the ground and shattering.
“Sorry.” The redhead rushed forward. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to crowd you at all. I was only trying to get out of this blasted wind—”
“It’s all good,” Kenzie said, interrupting. “I promise. I was just—”
A dark-haired woman stepped up to join them. “I hope you’re going to finish that sentence with ‘going to see if Gizmo was settled.’ I swear, the big guy’s moping without Ty.”
On cue, a horse’s bugle cut across the wind that whipped across the plains. The sound would undoubtedly carry to the house, and Ty would cringe. It would hurt him to hear the horse calling for him when he was unable to get down to the barn.
What if I was wrong earlier? What if the best thing for Gizmo is to see Ty? And if Ty witnesses the proof of Gizmo’s improvement, maybe he’ll want to be part of that. Maybe...
She straightened. “Do you guys have a golf cart here, or one of those all-terrain Mules people use around the barn?”
The dark-haired woman held out a hand. “I’m Reagan, Dr. Matthews—or Dr. Covington, I guess—Eli’s wife.
We sort of met at the rodeo and we’ve been exchanging emails over the past couple of weeks.
Yes, we have half a dozen golf carts for guest use and four Mules for the cowboys to haul feed, tack and such. Why?”
Before Kenzie could answer, the other woman stepped in and took one of Kenzie’s rough hands in both of her smooth, slender ones. “I’m Emmaline, Emma for short, and the last name’s about to be Covington.”
Kenzie squeezed Emma’s hand in recognition. “You were the woman with Cade in Fort Worth.”
“Yes.” Emma blushed prettily.
Reagan shifted her attention to Kenzie. “The 2014 Kawasaki Mule with the four-inch lift kit and all-terrain tires has the best ride. Will that work?” she asked as she dug a key ring out of her pocket and began sifting through them. Finding the right one, she pulled it off and handed it over.
“Just like that?” Kenzie asked, surprised.
“I assume it has to do with getting Ty out of the house.”
Kenzie nodded at the doctor. “It does.”
Emma glanced at the house before meeting Kenzie’s curious stare. “He’s changed, and we don’t have a clue what to do for him. If you have a plan, I’m all for it.”
“Can he walk at all?” Kenzie asked as she slipped the key into her jeans pocket and cracked her knuckles.
“A little. He’s anxious, but he can do it. Just doesn’t like us to watch him practice.” Reagan considered Kenzie, seeming to weigh her next words. “He doesn’t ever leave the house.”
“I’m sure he’s worried about how he’ll be treated by the ranch hands. He’s worked with them a long time?” Kenzie asked.
“Yeah.” Reagan watched as one of those very hands rode a horse in close to the barn at a lazy trot, calling out a welcome to someone mending fence. “He’s known them for years. Why?”
“He won’t want them to think less of him.
” She shrugged under the weight of the women’s curious stares.
“It’s pretty normal, really.” Kenzie flushed when Reagan shot a quick glance at Emma, the look on her face asking how a rodeo-circuit cowgirl would know what was “normal” for a person recovering from an injury.
She fought not to hunch her shoulders. “I majored in psychology. Graduated magna cum laude.”
Reagan’s entire assessment changed, her stance relaxing and her shoulders dropping some. “Very good to know. And everything you said is true. We’ve been coddling him a little too much.”