Violet shifted, then groaned at the dull clench of pain at the base of her skull. Her muzzy brain dredged up images from the night before. Delon. The ambulance. Those awful, scary minutes when they’d feared the worst. And Joe. He’d been the first to reach her side in the arena. The first to arrive at the hospital. Taking charge, taking care of her, tucking her in and holding her so close, so gently…
And then leaving. She slid a hand across the empty bed beside her. When? Outside, one of the trucks roared to life. Sunlight stabbed through the blinds and voices called. Cole. The truck driver. Hank. Loading up to go home. Violet rolled onto her side, then pushed up slowly until she was sitting, feet on the floor. Her mind felt fuzzy and her tongue was cemented to the roof of her mouth. After a minute, she tried standing. Her whole body ached, but as long as she didn’t turn her head there was no serious pain.
She braced one hand on the wall as she shuffled to the bathroom, wincing at her reflection in the mirror. Dear Lord. She looked like death, only grubbier. She sat on the closed toilet seat and eased her nightshirt over her head, suffering only a few sharp twinges in the process. She could shower sitting down in the tiny bathroom, and she sure wasn’t letting Joe see her like…
The nightshirt fell from her hand. Oh hell. It was Sunday. She popped the bathroom door open and squinted at the clock. Her heart dropped to the pit of her empty stomach. Eight forty-seven.
Joe had to leave by eight.
She pulled the door shut and sat, stunned. So that was it. Just…poof! Gone. She could still feel his body curled around hers, still smell him on her skin, and he was already halfway to the airport. Hadn’t even bothered to kiss her good-bye.
Well. It was probably best. Like ripping off a bandage with one quick yank.
She’d like to call bullshit on that theory. Faster didn’t hurt one damn bit less.
She cranked the taps and let the tears flow fast and hot with the water. She’d give herself ten minutes to wallow in self-pity, then she had to suck it up. Fifteen minutes later, she was scrubbed and dressed in a sleeveless blouse and shorts. Her eyes were only a little pink and the hot water had helped loosen her neck muscles, reducing the pain to darts instead of flaming daggers.
She glared at the prescription bottle strategically placed in the middle of her table. There was a note propped against it. Take me. What was this, Alice in Wonderland? She picked up the note, turned it over to see it had been scribbled on a chunk torn off last night’s rodeo program. No signature. No Nice knowing you. But hey, it was probably more than most women got from Joe after he’d snuck out of their beds at the crack of dawn. She tucked the paper into her pocket, ignored the medicine bottle to reach for the door handle, then jerked back when a knock sounded under her hand.
“Violet? Are you awake?”
She shoved the door open so fast she would’ve knocked Joe flat on his back if he weren’t quicker than the average cat. “What are you doing here?”
He held up a foam cup and a paper bag. “You didn’t eat last night.”
“But your flight—”
“I changed it to the same one tomorrow.” He started up the stairs, forcing her to step back. “The last thing anyone needed to worry about this morning was getting me to the airport.”
She snatched the coffee out of his hand and sucked down the first three swallows, craving the kick. Plus it hid her idiotic smile. He stayed, he stayed, he stayed!
Joe fished breakfast burritos out of the bag and dropped them on the table, careful not to look her square in the eye. “Your parents and Beni are up at the hospital. Cole even stopped in long enough to see with his own eyes that Delon was gonna live. He and the trucks are headed home as soon as they’re loaded.” He shoved a burrito toward her. “Eat your breakfast. Then take your medicine. I’m gonna go help Cole load the trucks.”
She didn’t want a damn burrito. Or her medicine. She wanted a smile. A touch. A kiss. Something. She folded her arms, feeling her face settle into a sulk worthy of her son. “Who made you the boss of me?”
His smile flashed, quick but real. “Your mother.”
The hell she did. Violet glared after Joe until her stomach growled at the scent of sausage and eggs. Okay, fine. Maybe she did want a burrito, but she was not taking the muscle relaxants. She couldn’t wander around in a rubber-kneed haze all day. She ate both burritos, polished off the coffee, then shoved her feet into her muddy boots.
Hank cut her off at the gate to the stock pens. “Can’t let you in here.”
“Says who?”
“Miz Iris. She left strict orders. And Joe said he’d kick my ass if you set foot anywhere near a horse or a bull.” He gave an apologetic shrug, but didn’t budge. “We’re almost done anyway.”
Violet glared at Hank, then over his shoulder at Joe, who swung open a gate to let Blue Duck into the alley. Mud caked the roan’s side and hip and hung in clumps from his mane, a stark reminder of the previous night’s misadventures. Hank followed her line of sight.
“Someone in the crowd recorded the whole thing and posted it online.” He fished his phone out of his pocket, poked a few buttons and handed it to Violet. “You should go sit down and watch it.”
Violet resisted the temptation to snatch the sorting stick out of his hand and whack him. Little punk, telling her what she couldn’t do. Instead, she stomped back to plunk down under her awning and squint at the palm-sized screen. The action played out as Violet remembered it—the ride, then the slip and the rear, Blue Duck falling onto his side. She watched herself spur Cadillac up from behind, into the gap between bucking horse and fence, coming straight at the camera.
Her breath caught as Delon fell, Cadillac’s feet and legs pummeling him. The big horse stumbled and fought to recover, scrambling on his knees with his nose plowing into the mud as Violet was launched over his head. The picture wobbled, the person holding it gasping as Violet’s skull missed a post by less than the width of her hand, her body sandwiched into the impossibly narrow gap between the fence and Cadillac’s hurtling mass. Holy shit. Violet’s vision blurred, then went white. She’d almost…she’d come within inches of…it could have been gone in that instant. Her life. Everything. Oh God, Beni would’ve…
Her chest heaved, but still there wasn’t enough air. Never enough air. The phone fell from her hand and she grabbed the arms of the chair as the earth tilted beneath her.
“Violet!” Joe’s face loomed out of the haze, his voice echoing from far away. “Slow down, darlin’. You’re hyperventilating. Just…slow…down…” His fingers stroked her cheek in time with his words, giving her a point of focus. “Slow. Calm. That’s it. Easy now.”
Her lungs took up the rhythm of his caress and the words he continued to croon. Her vision gradually cleared, but all she could see was Joe. He was definitely looking at her now. From three inches away.
“What happened?” he asked, green eyes dark with worry as he ran a gentle hand over her hair. “Do you have a headache? Are you gonna puke?”
“No. I just…I saw the video…” She dropped her gaze to where Hank’s phone had landed.
Joe hissed out a curse.
“I didn’t realize it was…it looked so bad. Did you see…”
“Yeah. Every time I close my eyes.”
Violet laughed, a shrill, hysterical sound. “Cadillac…how did he not roll right over me?”
“Pure try,” Joe said. “He gets extra grain. Forever.”
He crouched in front of her, stroking her arms. When she was steady he scooped up Hank’s phone. “I’m supposed to drive you to the hospital, but I have to go kill Hank first.”
He jumped up and strode back to the stock pens, where he waved the phone under Hank’s nose then tossed it over the fence into the ankle deep muck. While Hank scrambled after it, Joe bundled Violet into the pickup. As he drove across town, she slouched in her seat, staring out the window. The storm had left its mark, scattering leaves and small branches across the pavement. Joe propped his arm on the center console. Violet shifted her gaze to watch him tap a jittery beat on the gearshift knob. If she put her hand on his would he turn it over to lace his fingers through hers? Or stiffen and pull away?
They met her parents in the lobby of the hospital, Beni in tow. He launched into her arms, the jolt nearly making her weep. She hugged him hard anyway, savoring the feel of his dense little body in her arms, his clean-scrubbed scent in her nostrils.
“Well, you’re looking better this morning,” Iris declared, examining Violet. “You should be okay to drive by tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Someone’s gotta take Joe to the airport.”
“I’ll just get a rental—” he began.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Iris said. “Violet will drive you down in the morning. We’re going to find her a motel room. You can stay out at the rodeo grounds in her trailer.”
“But—”
“Go on and see Delon,” her mother said with a shooing motion. “Down that hall, third room on the left. Then come on back to the fairgrounds for lunch.”
Joe looked like he’d been leveled by a freight train. Violet sighed. No sense trying to fight—her mother would roll right over both of them.
“I’ll wait here,” he said, and took himself off to a couch in the corner of the lobby.
Violet found Delon’s room, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door. He was alone, his eyes closed. She pressed her fingers to her mouth to stifle a gasp at the sight of all the tubes and pumps.
“I’ll live,” he said, his voice raspy. He opened his eyes to watch her sidle up to the bed, hands clasped so they couldn’t flutter around.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Great, as long as I don’t breathe.”
She cringed. “I guess there’s not much they can do for the broken ribs.”
“Just this.” Delon held up a small remote control with a single button. “Shoots morphine into my IV.”
Violet twisted one palm against the other. Studied the pattern of blue flowers on Delon’s hospital gown. Shifted her weight to one foot then the other. “I’m so sorry,” she blurted.
Delon shook his head. “Not your fault. The arena was a mess. It was stupid to even get on. I should’ve said no to the re-ride.”
“You won first.”
“Big damn deal.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “You stop breathing for a minute or two, you get a whole new perspective on what’s important. There’s not a buckle in the world worth more than seeing Beni grow up.”
Violet dropped her gaze to her hands, rubbing a bruise on her knuckles she hadn’t noticed until then, once again struck mute. The stark, residual fear was too big to reduce to words.
Delon thumbed the calluses on his riding hand the way he always did when he was thinking hard. “So…Joe’s still here.”
“Only for a day,” Violet said, hating how defensive she sounded. “He’s flying out tomorrow.”
“When’s he coming back?”
“He’s not.”
Delon studied her face, eyes darker than usual. “You sure about that?”
“Yeah.”
Lord, her head was starting to pound. She reached out to squeeze Delon’s arm, the feel of hard, warm muscle a welcome reminder that he was alive and would eventually be well. “We can talk when you’re feeling better. Push that magic morphine button, tough guy, and get some rest.”
Pain simmered in her neck, radiating into her shoulder and arm and jacking up the throb in her temples as she walked back to the waiting room. Beni scrambled out of his chair and ran to meet her. Her eyes watered when he tugged on her arm.
“Mommy! Grandma got a motel with a pool!”
Violet’s body whimpered at the thought of thrashing around in the water with a rambunctious kid. “That’s great.”
“I’ll take him to the pool,” Joe said. “You need a nap.”
“You can swim?” Beni asked.
“Yeah,” Joe said drily. “Even though I’m just a bullfighter.”
If she were a better person, Violet would warn him that swimming with Beni was a contact sport, but a nap sounded heavenly so she smiled instead. “Thanks. You really are a lifesaver.”