Kelli Ireland - Cowboy Strong

His fingertips pressed into her hand, the movement faint but undeniable.

A man and woman raced up to her, and she recognized Cade Covington before he skidded to a stop. Eyes wide, he fixated on Ty, and when he spoke, his deep voice trembled. “Tyson.” He grabbed his female companion’s hand, uttered a pained sound and then pulled her against his body.

She wordlessly folded into him, her eyes fixed on Ty and brimming with tears.

The ambulance stopped a few feet away, and two EMTs hopped out. One grabbed a body board as the other, already gloved up, approached. He crowded her out, the act far from gentle. “I need you to leave the ring, ma’am.”

“Like hell,” she snarled. She had to stay, couldn’t leave him, not like this. Wouldn’t leave him. “He’s mine.” The lie emerged without conscious thought.

The man shot her a sharp look even as he pulled on blue nitrile gloves. “Your husband?”

She didn’t even hesitate. “He’s. Mine.”

He scrutinized her before lifting one shoulder and getting to work. “Fine, but stay out of my way.”

Cade stared at her, skepticism filtering through his initial shock at her declaration.

She ignored him, ignored everyone but Ty and the EMT. Terror wove its way around her heart and up her throat, stopping just shy of spilling out her mouth on a keening wail. Focusing on the EMT, she managed to rasp out a desperate “Help him.”

She heard raised voices behind her. Eli Covington and a woman she assumed was his new wife stood with rodeo vet. The three of them were arguing as Gizmo lay there, his sides heaving, hide slicked with sweat.

“The animal is in pain,” the vet said. “Putting him down would be the humane thing.”

“I’m about to hit you so hard your dentist won’t need to worry about which teeth to keep. I guarantee that’ll result in pain. Yours.” The woman, tall enough to look at the man eye to eye, stepped close enough to invade his personal space. “You suggesting I put you down then, too? As a matter of ‘humane’ treatment?”

“That’s different,” the man objected. “I’m human.”

She pointed at Ty’s still form. “You euthanize this horse, you might as well put him down, too, because you’ll destroy him and everything he’s worked for.”

Eli said something low to his wife.

She rounded on him. “Don’t you dare tell me not to get worked up! I don’t care if I’m six weeks’ or six months’ pregnant. Neither my hormones nor the baby responsible for them changes right and wrong.”

Ty squeezed Kenzie’s hand again, stronger this time but still far weaker than he should have been capable of. His eyelids fluttered before he ground his teeth and opened unfocused eyes. “Save...”

“We’re working on saving you, Mr. Covington.” The EMT scowled. “You’ve got to be still, though. We have to establish how much damage the accident caused your cervical spine.”

“Screw spine,” he whispered brokenly. His pain-filled gaze roamed wildly, skipping over her face and coming back. He fought to focus. “Giz... Save...” Tears rolled down his temples, and he squeezed her hand harder. “Please, Kenzie.”

“I’ll do what I can,” she answered, voice husky.

“No.” His tears flowed faster. “Promise.”

“You have to calm down, Mr. Covington.” The EMT pulled a syringe and loaded it. “I’m going to give you something for the pain before we transport you.”

“Promise!” he rasped, grasping Kenzie’s hand hard.

“I promise,” she choked out, but his eyes had already drifted closed, and she had no idea if he’d heard her before the drug hit.

His hand relaxed. She clung to him, unwilling to let him go.

“Where are you taking him?” she asked, standing as they lifted the body board.

“Medevacing him to Baylor’s trauma center.”

Kenzie looked at Cade. “Go with him. I’ll check in later after I take care of Gizmo.”

“Take care of him how?” Cade demanded.

“Don’t worry, I have a vested interest in ensuring the horse survives.”

Cade’s fiancée narrowed her eyes. “Ty didn’t mention anyone else having a vested interest in Gizmo.”

“Have you talked to Ty about his business dealings since he’s been here?” Kenzie asked with feigned arrogance.

Cade arched a single brow. “No.”

“Then, I don’t expect you to know that I bought into the horse here or that I’m funding part of your brother’s breeding program.” Any other time it would have bothered her how easily she lied. Not right now, though. Too much was at stake. “I won’t let my investment fall apart.”

“Gotta go, folks,” the EMT called.

“Do what you can,” the short-haired woman said, grabbing Cade’s hand and hauling him toward the ambulance. They hopped inside, the ambulance driver slamming the door closed behind them before racing for the driver’s seat. The ambulanced chirped and, with lights flashing, took off.

Kenzie turned to the rodeo vet. “What’s the prognosis?”

“Unless you own the horse—”

“I have a vested interest, yes.” How many lies would a cowgirl issue if a cowgirl could issue lies? The answer was simple: as many as it took. “Let’s consider the broken parts mine, so tell me what I’m facing here.”

“He’s torn ligaments and tendons in his fetlock, and I’m going to wager he’s also fractured his cannon. We’ve got a Kimzey leg saver on its way, but the damage...” He shrugged. “He’ll require serious surgical intervention. If he’s worth anything at all, get him to Ohio State University.”

Eli’s wife paled. “You’re talking thousands just in transport.”

“Make it happen,” Kenzie said, crossing her arms and widening her stance.

The vet arched a brow. “You realize that between emergency transport and initial treatment you’re looking at fifty to eighty thousand dollars?”

“You signing the checks?” she asked quietly.

“No.”

“Then, don’t worry about the costs.”

“We have to, though,” Eli murmured.

Kenzie shook her head. “No, you don’t.” Facing the vet again, she tucked her hands into her jeans pockets and did the one thing she hated doing. She threw her name at the doctor with the force of a major league pitcher’s fastball. “I’m Mackenzie Malone, Jack Malone’s daughter.” The vet’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something, but Kenzie shook her head. “There are only two things I want to hear from you. First, I want this horse’s flight number to the airport nearest Ohio State University. Charter a plane if necessary. Second, I want the in-flight pain management plans for him so I can clear that plan with my own vet.”

The rodeo vet stiffened. “I assure you—”

“I listed the two things I need, Doc, and your assurances weren’t on the short list.” Dismissing him to do his job as she’d seen her father do a thousand times, she faced the Covingtons. “Ty’s being lifted to Baylor. You two go there. I’ll stay with Gizmo.”

“Don’t let them put him down. Please, Ms. Malone.” Eli choked on the words and looked away, but not fast enough to hide the sheen of tears in his eyes.

“Just Kenzie, and I give you my word I’ll do my best to avoid that very thing, Mr. Covington.”

The woman pulled out her admission ticket and grabbed a pen from a vet tech. She scribbled on the back, then handed the card to Kenzie. “I’m Reagan Covington, large-animal vet and Eli’s wife. Call me with the drug names and I can explain what they’re giving him.”

“Will do. Now you two go on. Ty needs you, and frankly, I can make things happen faster if I have a little room to play the bitchy heiress.”

Both Covington and his wife issued their thanks before jogging toward the nearest arena exit.