Chapter Forty-Seven
The “King of the Dirt” was nowhere to be seen.
In his place was a man, looking small and broken.
He had a clear plastic hose that snaked out from under the blankets near his ribs, draining dark fluid into a canister on the floor. An oxygen mask covered most of his face. He had a large bandage covering his temple. He was hooked up to monitors and I.V.s galore.
He was alive. But it wasn’t him.
I slowly sat in the chair beside his bed, my shaking hands gently grabbing his.
His hand was so cold.
I squeezed it. “Colton…” I whispered.
He didn’t react.
I broke into sobs, having to lay my head on his bed as I cried. “You stupid cowboy,” I choked out. “You stupid, lying cowboy.”
The Nash family had all gotten to see him, each spending a few minutes seeing their son and their brother alive.
I had done my best to be patient and let them take their time, but inside, I was losing my mind.
Now, it was finally my turn. I thought I had mentally prepared myself enough to see him, but I didn’t expect him to be so fragile.
Colton was an unbreakable force; his strength and bravery had held me up when I couldn’t, and now here he was.
Unconscious in a hospital because of his addiction to the rodeo.
I finally regained my composure and lifted my head. I stood and planted a soft kiss on his forehead.
His head was hot, his hair matted with a little bit of dirt the nurses hadn’t been able to wash off yet.
I had slept beside him more times than I could count, but I had never seen him so vulnerable. “I’m here, Colton,” I whispered. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
~~~
Three days later and three nights on the little bench they liked to call a bed, I was getting desperate.
Colton hadn’t so much as twitched since the surgery.
The doctors said this was normal. His body was healing itself, and the best way to do that was to sleep. His chest tube input was finally slowing down, and they said it could be removed tomorrow morning if he keeps it up.
His vitals were stable.
He was healing.
Then why wasn’t he waking up?
I had sat in the same tiny chair beside his bed, running my nails up and down his arm for three days. I’d been wearing some of Jimmy’s wife’s clothes and an old Agri-Corp hoodie; my greasy hair was pulled back into a bun, and I didn’t feel anything like myself.
The Nash family was being incredibly patient with me, letting me sleep in the room and giving me as much alone time with him as I needed.
Except for the day Dennis wanted to talk.
He had found me in the empty cafeteria at 3:00 A.M, tearing a napkin into tiny pieces.
I was letting Jo and the girls spend some time with Colton before I rushed back in to be by his side.
Dennis took a seat and slid a mug toward me without a word.
I looked inside to see hot chocolate, the steam still rising. “I’m sorry I shoved you,” I whispered.
He shook his head, his usual infectious energy gone. “Don’t say sorry.”
I sighed and spun the mug around. “How could he do that, Dennis? How could he lie to me? How could he risk his life for a stupid county fair?” I looked up when he didn’t answer and saw a broken man sitting in front of me, staring deep into my face.
I knew he saw my father in me.
That had to be painful.
“A man who has the ‘fever’ doesn’t hear reason,” he finally said so quietly that I had to strain to listen.
“The fever?” I repeated bitterly. “That’s what we’re calling it? An addiction to nearly dying?”
“It’s not about dying, Ally. It never was for Clay, and it isn’t for Colton.
” Dennis leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, intense whisper.
“Your daddy didn’t ride because he wanted to leave you and your momma.
He rode because he felt like he was ten feet tall when he was on a horse.
He felt like the world couldn’t touch him. Colton... he’s the same way.”
I looked away, staring at a stain on the floor. “He lied to me, Dennis.”
“He lied because he’s terrified of losin’ you,” Dennis said simply.
“He knows that the life he loves is the same life that killed your father. He’s tryin’ to hold onto two worlds that are constantly tryin’ to tear each other apart.
He thought he could keep them separate. He thought he could be your boyfriend in the city and the bareback rider in the country, and that the two would never have to meet. ”
“But they did meet,” I whispered. “And I had to watch him almost die on a TV screen in a bar.”
“And now you know the truth,” Dennis said, reaching across the table to lay his heavy hand over mine.
“Lovin’ a cowboy isn’t just about the buckles and the blue jeans, Ally.
It’s about knowin’ that every time he leaves the house, he’s going to a place where you can’t protect him.
Your momma couldn’t handle that. She let the fear turn into hate. ”
He squeezed my hand. “The question isn’t whether Colton is going to ride again.
Because he is. As soon as he can draw a breath without the pain, he’s gonna start talkin’ about gettin’ back on the horse.
The question is... are you gonna be the woman who hates him for it, or the woman who helps him get the vest on? ”
I looked at Dennis, the man I had blamed for so much, and realized he wasn’t my enemy.
He was my mirror.
He had spent his life watching the people he loved risk everything, and he was still standing.
“He needs to wear the vest, Dennis,” I said, my voice firming up. “If he’s going to do this, he’s doing it my way. No more match rides in the mud. No more lies.”
Dennis gave me a small, sad smile, the first one I’d seen in days. “Then you’d better get ready, Miss Ford. Because trainin’ a Nash to follow rules is a hell of a lot harder than ridin’ a bronc.”
He was right, of course. No matter how much I wanted to disagree.
I saw the look in my dad’s eyes when he rode. It wasn’t just an addiction; it was a purpose.
That’s when Jo ran into the cafeteria, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Dennis stood up so quickly that his chair tipped over. “Jo?”
She looked between us, and a smile broke across her face. “He’s waking up.”
We practically sprinted out of the cafeteria and into the ICU.
They only allowed a few visitors in the ICU rooms at a time, so right now it was AnnaJane and Jimmy, at the edge of his bed.
They smiled back at us as we slid into the room.
“Colton?” I asked, my voice hollow.
Colton was groaning, his hand reaching toward the mask covering his face. He fumbled at it. Jo grabbed his hand and lowered it back onto the bed.
“Leave it on,” Jo whispered through the relieved tears. “It’s helping you breathe.”
His eyes were fluttering open, trying to make sense of the room.
“There was an accident, Colton,” Dennis said slowly.
Recognition flooded his eyes, followed quickly by a grimace of pure agony as he tried to shift his weight. The monitors spiked, chirping a warning as his heart rate climbed.
“Easy, easy,” I said, putting my hand on his cheek. “Breathe. You’re okay. Just breathe.”
He looked at me, deeply at me, his eyes glossy from sleep and heavy painkillers. He lowered the mask just enough to mouth a single word, “sorry.”
~~~
A few hours later, Colton was fully conscious.
He passed his cognitive function test, and after the doctor had run a million other tests, the Nash family filtered through to greet him. I was finally alone with him.
I waited until the newest nurse left the room before jumping to my feet and pressing a tender kiss on his chapped lips.
I could feel Colton smile through our kiss.
I sat back in my chair. “You have no idea how happy I am to see those eyes again,” I said, in a trembling voice.
He smiled, but he still looked so weak. Dark circles clung to his eyes, and he was paler than paper.
He was in agony.
I wanted to go back to the night on the floor in my apartment. Laughing, kissing, talking about nothing, our uncertain future a concern for another day.
“Are you okay?” I asked, trying not to look at the tube coming out of his hospital gown.
He shifted uncomfortably. “Yes.”
I didn’t believe him, but didn’t push it.
“I’m sorry, Ally,” he said in his raspy voice.
“You should be,” I said, a sob catching in my throat. “You lied to me. I had to watch a horse crush you on a T.V. in a bar!”
He closed his eyes, a single tear slipping down into the bandage on his temple. “Had to…”
Dennis’ words flooded my brain.
“I couldn’t make you watch again,” he croaked out.
I shook my head. This was definitely more my fault than I had originally realized. He had snuck off to this rodeo because he didn’t want to put me through the torture of watching him ride again.
“Is the dirt really worth more than us, more than your life?” I asked desperately.
His fingers fumbled on the bed until they found mine.
“When I’m in that chute,” he said, his voice getting stronger with every word, “when the gate opens, and everything else in the world goes quiet... that’s the only time I feel like I’m doing exactly what I was put on this earth to do.
It’s like a prayer, Ally. A violent, beautiful prayer. ”
He coughed, and his face twisted into violent agony.
I gripped his hand. “Do you need some more medication?”
He ignored me. “Ally, of course I don’t love the dirt more than I love you, but without it, if I quit because I’m scared, or because you’re scared... then I’m already dead. I don’t want to just exist, Ally. I want to live. And I want to live it with you in the front row.”
I looked up at the monitors that covered most of the room. They were the only thing these past few days that confirmed he was still alive.
I was having a very hard time keeping the memory of the horse collapsing on Colton replaying in my mind.
In my dreams, the memory of my dad and the memory of Colton had been merged into this horrible accident, and I couldn’t differentiate who was who.
“Please look at me, darlin’.”
I was blinking hard, but I did look at the broken man that I loved.
“Colton, I spent the past thirteen years not knowing the difference between a rodeo and a funeral. I’ve spent most of my life trying to outrun the smell of the dirt and the sound of the gate latch, and then I met you.
The one person who makes me feel safe, and you want to do the exact same thing. ”
Colton, with a little effort, sat up taller. He gripped my hand with both of his. “I know why you’re scared. Every time I get on the horse, you see your daddy. But I need to ask you, if your daddy was still alive, wouldn’t the one thing he’d wanna do again be to get on a horse?”
I felt my blood run cold.
He was exactly right.
My dad spent every spare second on a horse. He would practice for the next show, teach me to ride, and try new tricks on his favorite horse.
I wanted to argue with him that the one thing he’d wanna do would be to get away from the rodeo, but that wasn’t true.
“You think you’ve been protecting yourself by stayin’ away from the dirt, but Ally, you’ve been livin’ in that accident for thirteen years.
You’re the Marketing Director of a multi-million dollar company, but I can see you’re still the little girl in the stands waitin’ for the horse to fall,” his voice was urgent, desperate for me to listen.
I was hanging on every word.
He stared deep into my eyes, tears filling his own. “I need you to hear me when I say, the ride is worth the fall.”
Chills covered my arms. My armor was cracking.
“The dirt took your past, love, don’t let it take our future.”
I was still breathless, taking in his words. They were the truest words I’d ever heard, which is why I hated them so much.
I leaned forward to push his messy hair away from his face. “Colton…”
He went on, putting his hand on my cheek.
“When I was under the horse,” he chuckled lightly and winced, “before I passed out, I wasn’t thinking about the NFR, or the stats, or the sponsors, none of that.
I thought of you. Your baby blue eyes and the way they sparkle when you smile.
I was thinking about how your hair is so blonde that it bounces sunlight off it.
I was thinking about how you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen when you laugh. ”
I closed my eyes as my tears betrayed me.
“You’re my ‘why.’ The rodeo gives me purpose, but you give me a reason to come home.”
I opened my eyes to look at him. He was broken and bruised, but more certain than I had ever been in my life. He wasn’t just asking for a pass to ride; he was asking me to stop being a victim of my own history.
“Thirteen years,” I whispered, leaning my forehead against the railing of the bed. “I’ve been so tired of being afraid for thirteen years.”
“Then let it go, Ally,” he breathed, his hand stroking my hair.
“Let me be the one who helps you carry it. We’ll do it together.
No more lies. No more match-rides. Just us, the road, and the truth.
I’ll wear the vest, I’ll take the tests, I’ll do whatever it takes.
Just... don’t ask me to be a man that I’m not.
Because that man wouldn’t be worth your love. ”
I closed my eyes, and for the first time since the bar in Chicago, the image of my father started to fade, replaced by the warmth of Colton’s hand.
“You better be the best bareback rider this world has ever seen,” I choked out, half-laughing and half-sobbing. “Because if I’m doing this, we’re winning everything.”
Colton smiled, a real, lopsided Nash smile that reached his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”
If Colton was going to fight to get back into that chute, he wasn’t going to do it alone. And he wasn’t going to do it the “cowboy way” by just toughing it out and hoping for the best. He was going to do it the Allegra Ford way.
I was going to find the best surgeons, the most elite physical therapists, and the most advanced safety gear on the market. I would manage his recovery with the same ruthless precision I used to launch a national campaign. I would be his strategist, his enforcer, and his sanctuary.
The dirt had taken enough from the Ford family; it wasn’t taking Colton Nash.
I looked at his bruised hand in mine and felt a new kind of fire ignite in my chest. It wasn’t the “fever” the cowboys talked about, but it was just as hot.
Colton was right.
I had been haunted by the ghost of a twelve-year-old girl and let her dictate the borders of my life. I had let her determine who I loved, how I lived my life, and why I could never fully trust my heart to fall for another person.
But it was time to let go.
I had spent my life managing risks and avoiding crashes, yet here I was, anchored to a man who lived for the ride. It was the most beautiful, reckless thing I’d ever done–proving once and for all that a life lived in fear isn’t a life at all, and that Colton Nash was entirely worth the fall.