Chapter 7
CADE AND ELI had insisted Ty get some sunshine this morning.
Unfortunately, his brother’s driving skills in the Mule had gone from pretty damn bad to downright crappy.
Eli didn’t seem capable of missing the rocks and staying out of the ruts as they traveled through the heart of the ranch.
They were all fighting to keep from grunting and groaning as they crept along, every movement exaggerated thanks to the pace Eli insisted they keep.
Ty would be lucky if he didn’t refracture his neck or end up knocking a kidney free and having it land in the heel of his boot.
“Almost there,” Cade called to him.
“Forced cheerfulness doesn’t suit you,” Ty snarked.
“No?” Cade asked with even more false enthusiasm. “Then, you know how I feel after living with your cranky ass the past couple of weeks. Being a total jerk hasn’t suited you...or those of us who have to put up with you.”
“Cut it out, both of you.” Eli’s reprimand was as effective as dry tinder tossed into a burgeoning wildfire.
“I don’t understand why you insisted I come out this morning.” Ty, facing backward and with Cade at his side to help stabilize him, was beginning to sweat with the effort to stay upright. “This is stupid. I should be resting.”
“All you do is ‘rest,’” Cade answered with air quotes.
“You’re not putting much effort into your physical therapy, you’re not doing the exercises in between sessions, and frankly, you’re approaching the point where I’m going to take you for a walk one of us doesn’t come back from. Hint? I’ll make it home just fine.”
Ty’s temper shot north. “I broke my damn neck, Cade. What would you have me do? Jump right into the middle of the life I led? Maybe take a local girl out for a night of dancing and a little fun? Or better yet, why don’t I get in the saddle and see how that goes?”
“Chickenshit,” said Eli from the front seat.
Ty’s jaw fell open as far as the brace would allow it.
Cade caught the look on his face and laid a hand on his shoulder before speaking to their eldest brother. “That might be taking it a little far.”
“No, it isn’t. If he’s going to treat his body as if it’s this fragile palm frond, getting up each day and refusing to push himself to grow and get stronger, then I’ll call it like I see it.
Chickenshit.” The Mule coasted to a stop, and the putter of the engine died when Eli pulled the key.
“The truth sucks, particularly when you—either of you—don’t want to hear it. ”
“Did you hear a word I said?” Ty demanded, forcing himself to slip from the rear-facing seat and, with the aid of his walker, get his feet under him before slowly rounding on Eli. His next words died on his lips, though, when he realized where they’d brought him.
The barn.
And that meant...
Gizmo.
“No.” Voice hoarse, eyes gritty, Ty stumbled, but Eli and Cade each grabbed an arm to steady him. “I can’t do this. Take me to the house. Now.”
“You want to go back?” Eli let him go and slipped into the driver’s seat, cranked the engine over and took off at breakneck speed. “Walk,” he shouted as he sped away.
“I can’t...” He shuffled his feet around until he faced Cade. “I can’t do this.”
“Huge difference between can’t and won’t.
” His older brother settled the walker in front of Ty and moved out of reach.
He pulled out an apple from his pocket and tossed it to Ty.
“Time to stop lying to yourself. You may not want to do this, but you can. Suck it up and get it over with. Tell Gizmo I said hello. I’ll be within shouting range if you run into trouble.
” Then Cade spun on his heel and walked away, rounding the corner of the barn and disappearing from sight.
Movement in the barn told Ty he wasn’t alone.
That he couldn’t see who it was irritated him.
He didn’t want this. Didn’t want to be stared at as if he was some crash-test dummy.
Didn’t want to be the topic of conversation in the bunkhouse.
Didn’t want to be the subject of discussion.
Didn’t want anyone’s pity. He could withstand—had withstood—a lot, but not that. Never that.
Cade’s accusation that Ty had thrown in the towel stung.
He’d tried so hard to retain some sense of himself, that same sense of humor, the same wit and flirty banter with the opposite sex.
It didn’t come easy. Not when his life had been reduced to a series of moments, a few breaths that refused to come and a heart that stopped beating.
And yeah, it had happened that way. It was the one thing he remembered in an otherwise void of blackness.
He remembered he’d been looking at Kenzie when his heart stopped. She’d watched him fight for every breath he could steal, witnessed his heart stall out, and she’d stood there and cried as darkness took him under. She’d wept for him, but not once had she reached out to him.
Sure as hell kept her hands all over my horse, he silently muttered.
Shifting his walker to face the gaping maw of the barn door, he took his first step toward the dim interior.
Paused. A second step. Another pause. His breath came hard and shallow.
His head felt extremely heavy on his fragile neck.
Walking took more concentration, more sheer effort, than it ever had.
Sweat dotted his nape. He wanted to return to the comfort of his wheelchair.
His heart, that defiant organ, thundered in his chest, and he waited, sure in the knowledge that it could quit again without warning.
Every sensation was horrible in its own right.
Combined? He was overwhelmed with the urge to tear the barn down with his bare hands, one board at a time, in lieu of being emotionally deconstructed in the same fashion.
“I can’t.” Wiping his brow, he glanced around. “I can’t do this.”
He struggled to keep his balance as he attempted to maneuver the walker toward the house.
Lord help him, he was as weak as a newborn foal.
His legs refused to stabilize. He had to get out of here, though, and he’d do it on his own.
Pride would keep him upright far longer than stamina ever would.
And when he ran out of pride? When he couldn’t go any farther without help?
He’d call his brothers. They could pick him up and drive him to the house.
This was, after all, their fault. He never would have come down to the barn of his own free will. This was a mistake—an epic mistake.
Then Gizmo called out, the sound heart wrenching.
Chest tightening impossibly, he took finite steps until he was pointed toward the barn again. Moving slowly, fear bore down on him with every step. By the time he crossed the threshold into the barn, his defenses had been thoroughly stripped away, his emotions raw and exposed.
For better or worse, he stood where it had all started—where he’d found a way to live, to be more than the youngest Covington, more than a playboy screwup, more than he’d ever thought he’d be with more than he’d ever thought he might have.
He’d had everything he’d wanted.
Then that bitch Life had found a way to take it all away from him.
KENZIE HAD HEARD the Mule stop, then charge away.
Voices had risen in confrontation before Cade had announced he was leaving Ty to fend for himself.
She was confident the middle Covington brother hovered nearby, though.
He wouldn’t leave his younger brother alone to fend for himself.
She knew Cade well enough to be sure he was far too loyal for that.
Then she heard the shuffle-step, shuffle-step of Ty’s progress.
She wanted to go to him, to help, but he had to do this for himself.
Her job was to stay out of the way. She’d only observe.
If an issue arose that put either Ty or Gizmo at risk, she’d text one of the brothers. Or, heaven forbid, both.
She was glad she’d changed her mind about Ty visiting Gizmo. Both animal and man would heal faster if they had each other to lean on. A bond like these two had was as rare as it was beautiful.
When Ty neared the barn, Kenzie slipped into the deep shadows between the haystack and the tack room to best watch the man move.
The determination on his face had been tempered by a bevy of other emotions, all of which were horrible to witness.
His stop-and-start gait left his footing unsure, and he leaned on his walker so heavily the wheels sank first into the soft dirt and then, when he reached the barn, the mulched alleyway bisecting the stalls.
He stopped inside the giant doorway and closed his eyes, and she thought he might have given up.
Half of her wanted to rail at him for quitting while the other half wanted to go to him, wrap him in her arms and offer to help carry the burden.
In an abstract way, they’d been that person to each other over the past few years.
This, however, was different. Decidedly different.
This wasn’t about mutual gratification or losing a couple of hours to pleasure to get one’s mind off something.
Rather, it was about choosing to embrace life instead of letting circumstance steal it from a loosened grasp.
She stayed where she was.
Ty finally opened his eyes and focused his gaze on Gizmo’s stall.
Kenzie originally wanted to put the horse in the stall at the far end of the barn, where it would be easier to access the swimming pool she was having installed.
It dawned on her she hadn’t mentioned the pool to anyone here.
Oops. She’d get on that as soon as this moment with Ty and Gizmo passed.
Right now, though, the man and his horse were the priority.
The family had entrusted her to see to Gizmo’s well-being while they were focused on Ty.
They trust me.
The knowledge stole her breath. Fist pressed to her abdomen, she forced herself to breathe slowly. That was when it happened.