Hope Navarre - A Ranch for His Family

They had laughed about so much when they were young. Her smile faded. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been in love with him.

In grade school, she had followed him around like a faithful puppy. Having grown up as neighbors, they were inseparable friends. It didn’t matter to Neal that she was a girl. She could ride and rope as good as any boy.

In high school, they’d begun to rodeo together as a team roping pair. During Neal’s senior year, their friendship had evolved into a tender teenage love affair. When he’d graduated the year before her, she’d worried constantly that he might meet someone else at college. It was during that time that he had given up roping and began riding bulls.

She’d hated it. She had known what could happen. Not long after that, he’d quit school and begun traveling the pro rodeo circuit. His father had been furious.

She had tried to wait patiently for Neal’s infrequent visits home, but in the end, she’d simply had to follow him. She’d moved into his tiny camper and set up house. Being with him had been wonderful and terrifying at the same time. She had hated watching him put himself in danger. They’d had some fine arguments about it, but he wouldn’t quit. She had tried not to let her fear and worry show. He’d loved riding, and she’d loved him. She’d been happy in spite of the rough life and hardships of being on the circuit because she’d known his heart belonged to her. All she could do was pray that he survived.

During the long months of traveling and living out of a secondhand camper, she’d dreamed of the day when they would leave the rodeo behind, settle down outside Bluff Springs and raise a family on the ranch where she’d grown up.

Then one day, she had learned a painful truth. No one woman owned his heart. Her dreams had withered and died in that instant.

Robyn sighed and let her head fall back against the chair cushion. That heartbreak belonged in the past. She had moved on with her life. A lot of things hadn’t worked out the way she’d expected them to. The ranch she had grown up on was failing now that her father was gone. If something didn’t change soon, they would have to sell. She hated the idea. She had dreamed that one day her son would raise his children there.

She had expected to marry her childhood sweetheart and live happily ever after, but Neal had broken her heart, and she’d left him. When she had discovered she had a reason to go back, her pride had kept her away and driven her to make a choice that had changed the course of her life and many others.

She gazed at Neal’s pale, still face. He would never know what that decision had cost both of them.

The small voice of her conscience whispered that she was wrong to keep her secret. What if Neal had died without knowing he had a son? Could she live with that?

She glanced at the wedding band she wore on her left hand. She had promised her husband, as he lay dying in a hospital bed very much like this one, that she would never reveal Chance wasn’t his child.

Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Were we wrong, Colin?”

She had been young, deeply hurt and bitter when she’d left Neal. She hadn’t discovered until weeks later that she was pregnant. Neal had never wanted children. She had refused to use a child to force him back into a relationship that he clearly didn’t want with her. She had let him have the freedom he craved. Not a day went by that she didn’t question her choice.

There was no going back, no way to undo the past. Right or wrong, she’d kept her secret.

Weariness crept into her bones. She closed her eyes to rest them. She must have fallen asleep, because she jerked awake sometime later when a hoarse voice whispered, “Where am I?”

She sat up and brushed the hair out of her eyes. “Hey, cowboy. It’s about time you woke up.”

“Me? You’re the one snoring.” His voice was weak, but she was so glad to hear it.

She smiled softly. “How rude of me. Do you know where you are?”

“A torture chamber?”

“Close. A hospital in Kansas City. Would you like some water?”

“Yes,” he croaked.

She picked up a white Styrofoam cup from the bedside table and held the bent straw to his lips. He sipped slowly. When he turned his face away, she put the cup down. “How do you feel?”

“Like the bull rode me for the full eight.” His voice was stronger when he answered her. His feeble joke triggered a new flood of relief. His doctors had been worried about possible brain damage.

“I think you threw him before the whistle,” she answered.

“Kent,” he said suddenly. “Kent Daley, is he okay? I saw the bull knock him down.”

“He’s fine,” she assured him. “He was out cold for a few minutes, but that’s all. The outriders managed to keep the bull off of him.”

Neal relaxed. “That’s good. He’s a decent guy.”

“He’s been here twice to see you. He’s very grateful for what you did.”

“He did the same for me.”

Neal focused on her face for a long moment. She waited until the silence became unbearable. She knew what was coming. “What?”

“How bad is it?” His voice wasn’t quite steady.

Robyn bit her lip to stop its trembling. She searched for the courage to tell him the full extent of his injuries. She dreaded the news she was going to deliver. She thought for a second about going out and finding his doctor, but she decided against it. Neal wouldn’t want an outsider with him for this.

His hand closed over hers, and he squeezed gently. “Come on, Tweety, give it to me straight. I know I can wiggle my toes, but it hurts to breathe, and my head’s on fire.”

Her heart wrenched at his use of her childhood nickname. They had been friends long before they had become lovers, long before he broke her heart. He would need a friend now.

In a calm voice, she began. “It’s bad, Neal. You have three broken ribs. One of them punctured your lung. You lost a lot of blood. Your face hurts because you also have a fractured cheekbone, a shattered eye socket and...” Her voice trailed away. She couldn’t do this.

His grip on her hand tightened. “And?”

“The bull hooked your face with his horn. The doctors couldn’t save your left eye.”

“Oh, God, no!” His anguished cry tore at her heart.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

* * *

NEAL KNEW HIS grip had to be crushing her small hand. It couldn’t be true. He didn’t want to believe her. The pain in his head intensified until he almost screamed.

Forcing himself to let go of her, he raised a trembling hand to grope at the bandages on his face. His eye was gone. He was half-blind. He wanted to tear the dressings off and prove it wasn’t true.

“Is that the worst of it?” he managed to ask.

“Yes. You will have a scar on your face, but you’ll be able to get a prosthesis as soon as it’s healed.”

“A glass eye, you mean?” Repugnance filled him. This was some kind of cruel joke. It couldn’t be happening.

No, the real joke was that she was the one to see him like this.

She leaned close and took his hand. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but your family and friends will be here for you. You will get through this.”

The pain in his head grew along with his need to lash out. He jerked away from her. “You should leave now. It’s what you do best.”

“I’m so sorry, Neal.”

“I don’t want your pity! Leave me alone.”

“Anger is a very normal reaction to such terrible news.”

How could she be so calm about the worst moment in his life? It infuriated him. It wasn’t rational to blame her, but he couldn’t help himself. “Don’t tell me what’s normal. Just get out!”