Trish Milburn - The Doctor's Cowboy

Thunder rumbled outside, drawing their attention to the window. It had grown dark out, even though it was still a few hours from nightfall. Wyatt noticed that a weather broadcast had broken in on the movie. The radar image was several shades of red with lots of indications of lightning strikes.

“That doesn’t look good,” he said.

Dr. Brody sighed. “Just in time for my drive home.”

“Guess you’ll have to stay here until it passes.” When she glanced at him, he winked at her.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you ordered the storm.”

“If I had that much power, I’d heal myself so I could get out of this awful bed. My back feels like I fell off a building.”

“Here, let’s see if we can do something about that.” She crossed to the other side of the room, where an empty bed sat awaiting another unfortunate hospital guest. She grabbed a pillow and stepped close to his side. “Carefully lean forward.”

He bit his lip to keep from wincing, but then his breath caught for a different reason. Dr. Brody grasped his shoulder as she tucked the pillow so that it stretched from his lower back to his shoulders. She stood close enough that he could smell her feminine scent, something flowery but not overwhelming.

“You smell nice.”

She stopped moving for a moment, and he thought he heard her breath catch, too. But when she eased him back against the pillow and took a step away, she smiled.

“Well, you’re used to smelling antiseptic and bleach,” she said, deflecting his compliment.

A loud crash of thunder that sounded as if it were right above his room caused her to jump. Right on the heels of the thunder, the sky opened up and released a deluge of rain. In the space of a couple of seconds, the helipad became obscured.

“Even Mother Nature thinks you should stay and keep me company,” he said.

“Since I didn’t bring my canoe to work, I think you’re right.”

He was actually sort of surprised when the doc pulled up a chair and propped her feet on the end of his bed.

“So, Wyatt Kelley, tell me something about yourself.”

“Not much to tell.”

“Everyone has a story.”

“And some of them aren’t all that interesting. What about you?”

“What do you want to know?”

“Your name.”

She smiled, and he spotted a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Nice try.”

“Okay, are you originally from Blue Falls?”

“Yep, born and raised on a ranch outside of town. My turn. Where are you from?”

“Laramie, Wyoming.”

“Long way from home.”

He shrugged, irked that even that slight motion sent a twinge through his injured side. “Not really. I mainly live on the road.”

“Traveling from rodeo to rodeo.”

He nodded.

“I don’t know how you guys do that, especially climbing onto bulls. My younger brother did rodeo for a while, but he was a roper. At least he wasn’t cheating death every time he got in the chute.”

“Most of the time I don’t even think about it.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I’ve been around rodeo all my life. It’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

Dr. Brody shook her head slowly. “Maybe all of you have just had one too many concussions to know better.”

“Maybe, but the crowds love it. We crazy bull riders help to bring people in to events like your town’s rodeos.”

“Yeah, but I end up patching you guys up. Do you all have contests to see who can get the most broken bones or stitches in a year?”

“No, but maybe I should start that bet. I’d have a good chance of winning.”

She snorted a little laugh that told him just what she thought of that idea.

Another loud boom of thunder set off a car alarm outside, and in the next moment the electricity went out. Dr. Brody immediately jumped to her feet and headed for the door, but before she got there the backup generators kicked in.

“Be back in a bit,” she said then disappeared.

He listened to the flurry of footsteps out in the hall, as the staff checked on patients to make sure all the necessary monitors and equipment were operating correctly. Wyatt glanced at the TV and realized the angriest part of the storm sat right smack on top of Blue Falls. After a storm like this, there would no doubt be necessary cleanup. If only he weren’t a prisoner of his injuries, maybe he could pick up a couple days of work. Lord knew his wallet could always use the extra cash.

That thought took him back to Dr. Brody’s comments about how he put his life in danger every time he settled himself atop a bull. But it was all he knew beyond basic manual labor. Maybe he could have done something else if he’d applied himself, but rodeo had gotten into his blood early and he’d not thought much beyond it. Good damn thing that bull two nights ago hadn’t done anything that was irreparable.

But what if it had? He’d be totally screwed.

Maybe he needed to think about a plan for when his rodeo days were over. Even the best of the best had to quit riding sometime. If he started chatting up some of his contacts now, maybe he could plant the seed that would grow into some sort of rodeo-related job after he quit riding. Maybe he’d even follow in his grandfather’s footsteps and become an announcer.

But that was down the road. All he needed to do now was heal enough to escape this damn bed and get back on the road. He was losing precious time, points and money, none of which he could afford.

Dr. Brody stayed gone so long that he’d begun to think maybe she’d headed home. He hoped not, and not just because he liked her company. The storm hadn’t slackened much. Even he would have pulled over in this mess and let it pass. He might ride bulls for a living, but that wasn’t as dangerous as driving when you couldn’t see the road in front of you.

Using the dim light above his bed, he started flipping through the fishing-and-hunting magazine. He honestly wasn’t much for hunting, but he liked the solitude and quiet of a morning of fishing. He had a lot of fond memories of fly-fishing with his grandfather on the Laramie and North Platte Rivers, outings he often wished he could relive just once.

Not wanting to travel down memory lane, he tossed the magazine back onto the table and looked at the TV screen. It appeared the storm was moving quickly. As if to confirm that observation, the rain subsided outside. He shifted his focus to the doorway and watched as people walked back and forth, but none of them were the person he wanted to see. He’d barely had that thought when she popped her head in the door.

“I’m going to see if I can float home now. Behave yourself.” She gestured toward the magazines. “And good luck figuring out the mysteries of the female mind.”

He snorted. “I’ll settle for figuring out your name. I’m confident I’ll get it right tomorrow. I’ve got two good guesses ready to go.”

“You’ll have to hang on to them. I’m off for the next couple of days.”

Wyatt’s heart sank. The days were long and boring enough without her brief visits. What the devil was he going to look forward to without them?

“Then I get six guesses when you come back.”

She smiled. “You’ll need them.”

Wyatt tried to occupy himself with some more channel surfing and reading the magazines. He even pulled out the crossword-puzzle book and worked a few. But his mind wandered and he started writing down all the C names he could think of down the margin of one of the puzzles.

When a nurse came in after the shift change that evening, he chatted her up a little before springing the question uppermost in his mind. “Hey, could you tell me what Dr. Brody’s first name is?”

“Sure,” she said with a smile that made her eyes twinkle. “It’s Chloe.” The nurse lowered her voice. “Don’t tell the other docs, but she’s our favorite.”