“Colt.”
It sounded as if the bucket had broken. He didn’t seem to care, just moved to the pile, turned his back to her and stood there. She heard a horse snort, then nothing. Silence descended.
That was when she heard it, his voice so low she would have missed it if it hadn’t been so quiet outside.
“My nephew has cancer.”
Chapter Six
“Oh, dear Lord.”
Colt heard Natalie’s words, but told himself not to say more. It wasn’t any of her business. He could handle his own problems, like he always had.
Adam had cancer.
He wasn’t certain he could handle that.
“How bad?” she asked.
He shouldn’t have said anything, damn it, didn’t want to talk about it. “Bad enough that he has to go in for a battery of tests this week.” Colt’s breaths came faster and faster. “Goddamn it. He’s just a kid. He should be playing with his Hawkman action figure, not dealing with a deadly disease.”
“I’m sorry.”
How could it be possible? How could his curious, rambunctious five-year-old nephew have cancer? Cancer was for old people. For people who smoked or who tanned too much. It wasn’t for little children.
“What kind?”
He rounded on her. “They don’t know yet. Some kind of blood something.”
Natalie had taken a small step back, blue eyes wide, and it occurred to him that she’d been through her own kind of personal hell and didn’t deserve his anger. That’s what he was—angry. No. Enraged. His poor sister had been through enough already what with the death of Marcus. She’d spent enough time in hospitals. She didn’t deserve this. Adam didn’t deserve this. None of them did.
Colt hadn’t even realized he’d closed his eyes until he felt Natalie’s hand on his arm again. He told himself to pull away, but when he opened his eyes to do exactly that, something in her gaze caught him.
“What can I do to help?” she offered.
He took a deep breath, tried to calm his emotions. “Saddle up your horse so I can ride him.”
Work. Work was the best thing for him. He had a rodeo this weekend and he’d been planning on heading out early. Now that wasn’t possible. He wanted to be around for Adam’s tests. But he could work here at home. He could keep himself busy, keep himself from thinking dark and horrible thoughts.
Natalie did as he asked without question. He had no idea how she’d known which saddle to use. He had several of them, but she’d picked his work saddle, although he didn’t recognize the bridle. Must have been hers. When she’d finished she stepped back.
“He’s pretty light in the bridle.”
He didn’t comment. His hands shook as he reached for the reins.
Adam had cancer.
He wanted to wrench the reins from her hands. To jump aboard and gallop off into the distance. To forget what he knew with the help of a long ride. Alas, the words in his head and the dark, terrible thoughts they roused weren’t going anywhere.
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