Karen Rock – Falling For A Cowboy (страница 9)

“Do what? I can’t compete anymore. Can’t ride. Can’t drive. Heck. I can’t even walk alone on my own. I don’t want to depend on anybody for anything. I don’t want to be reminded of—”

“Reminded of—” he prompted.

“Of how helpless I am.”

“No one’s saying you are.”

“But they’ll be thinking it. You’re thinking it.”

The beat of silence spoke volumes and hurt way more than she’d imagined it could. They’d never lied to one another, and she didn’t expect anything less than brutal honesty from her best friend now. Outside, the battering rain eased, then trickled. The thunder and lightning moved off to torment another mountain.

She glimpsed Jared’s chest rise, then fall with a long exhale. “You’re no quitter, Amberley. That isn’t the gal I—” he stumbled, fumbled for a word. “I care about.”

She flushed. What’d he been about to say? Oh. No matter. None of it did anymore. Jared liked being around her because she challenged him. Once it sunk in that those days had ended, he’d come around only out of pity. She didn’t believe for a second he’d abandon her. His decency and loyalty meant he never turned his back on his friends. But she wanted to be his equal, not his charity case. Better she cut things off while she still had her pride. Jared ran with a fast crowd and she’d only slow him down.

“Then stop caring about me,” she forced herself to say, “because that girl’s gone.”

“Not happening.”

She paused, thinking fast. She needed to get rid of him once and for all. For both their sakes. “So as my friend you’ll do anything for me?”

He nodded quickly. “Now you’re seeing sense.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Anything?”

“Name it,” he vowed.

“Alright. Then bring me home and don’t ever come around again.”

“Amberley...” he protested, his voice full of air like she’d sucker punched him.

She shook her head. Firm. “You promised.”

* * *

“AMBERLEY, PHONE!”

At her mother’s call, Amberley roused herself ever so slightly from the 24/7 stupor she’d fallen into these past few weeks. “Tell them I’m sleeping!” she called without opening her eyes. She turned and burrowed deeper under her covers, ignoring the slight bump up in her heart rate.

So far, Jared had kept his word and not called since that night on Mount Sopris, but a part of her, a lowdown, cowardly, traitorous part, still hoped, every time she heard the phone ring, that he hadn’t respected her decision...

Hadn’t given up on her.

She missed him. Missed her friend. Missed that smile. Not that she’d ever see it again anyways.

Oh. Stop bellyaching. It was for the best. If she cared about him, she’d let him go. She sighed and flopped over on her back, arms flung wide, her best thinking position.

What was the saying? “If you can’t fix it, you just have to stand it.”

She glanced over at the bedside table cluttered with cans of pop, bags of chips and dishes left over from eating meals in bed the last few weeks.

Or wallow in it...

Inertia. Another good word for her current state. Suspended animation. That summed it up, too. Maybe she should request to be cryogenically frozen. Least then she’d do something for science.

“Amberley!” shrilled her mother again.

She shoved herself upright, and her covers dropped to her lap in a messy heap. “Can you take a message?” From the corner of her eye, she spied the digital clock with the oversize display her mother had brought home recently. It read 1:20 p.m.

Outside her open window, the sky was a blue so brilliant even her eyes picked it up, the air was still washed clean from recent rain, and birds warbled from the two rustling maples that stood sentinel at the end of their drive. It was the kind of weather that usually woke her feeling elated, glad to be alive, wishing she could belt out some musical number like “Oklahoma” or the “Sound of Music.”

Not that she could sing a lick, but on days like this she’d always felt anything was possible. Even singing on key. Like maybe she could ride to the end of the earth and back before it’d even had a chance to circle the sun.

“It’s about Harley!”

Harley? She tossed off her covers and stumbled down the narrow hall to the kitchen, hands brushing the walls to keep her bearings. Her wrinkled sleep shirt swung around her knees.

She mouthed “Thanks” to her mother and brought the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Sorry to bother you, Amberley, what with, ah, all you’re going through and all.”

Harley’s stable owner, Benny Jordan, an asthmatic former champion roper turned rodeo clown who’d retired to this area fifteen years ago, breathed noisily into the phone.

“Is Harley okay?” Her fingers gripped the handle hard, and she dropped into the seat her mother pulled out. Inside her chest, her heart skittered every which way. Although it’d been weeks since she’d seen Harley, not a day passed where she didn’t wonder how he was doing and if the stable was taking good care of him. Prior to her accident, they’d spent most of every day together. Now, the thought of seeing him again only reopened the wound of all that she’d lost.

When her mother pointed at the phone, then her ear, Amberley nodded, fumbled around for the speaker button, then pressed it.

“Well, now. That’s the thing. See. He’s not eating like he should.” More wheezing, then, “Been skittish when folks come near. This morning, I sent in Joan to muck out his stall.”

Joan? A former rodeo pro herself, she’d become the local horse whisperer and founded the equine therapy program they ran out of Harley’s stables. She had much more important things to do than clean stalls.

“Did something happen?”

A kettle whistled, and her mother’s chair scraped back as she rose to grab it.

“Well. Now she’s going to be fine.”

“Benny. What happened to Joan?” Her pulse picked up tempo and her fingers drummed along with it on the wooden tabletop. Across the way, she glimpsed her mother’s form twist to face her. Something hung from each hand. Mugs, Amberley guessed.

“The doctor says it’ll heal in about six weeks.”

Alarm bells shrilled in her ears. “What happened?”

“Harley busted out her kneecap. Kicked her full on.”

Every bit of air in her lungs rushed right out of her. “I’m so sorry.”

The sound of poured liquid reached her ears followed by the rip of paper as she imagined her mother opening tea bags.

“Not your fault.”

But it was. She saw that suddenly. “I should have been down to care for Harley.”

“Understandable that you haven’t.” She heard a couple of quick inhaler puffs from his end. Then, “Sorry to bring you the bad news, but I’m afraid we’re not going to be able to house Harley anymore.”

She hung her pounding head. “Is that final?” Jordan Stables provided the only home Harley had ever known. If he couldn’t manage there, who knew where he’d end up?

The painful thought of being separated from him branded itself on her heart, burning straight through.

And it’s not like you’ve done anything to help, whispered that angel on her right shoulder.

What’s the point? whispered the devil. Not like you can ride him again. Care for him.

But she and Harley had a bond that went deep. Besides handling him morning and evening, she’d talked to him a lot. While grooming him, or letting him eat “better” grass on the stable’s front yard, she’d filled him in on rodeo winners, cried over barrel racing icon Scamper’s passing, sympathized with his “picked last in gym” herd status, and generally kept up a running conversation. She believed she could rattle on about the rising price of corn feed and Harley would think all was right with the world.

And after her father’s cancer diagnosis, Harley had been there. She’d cried lots of tears into that silver mane of his. Had hung on to him when it’d felt as though her whole world was falling apart. He kept her from crumbling, too. She never could have gotten through that terrible time without him...or Jared...

Abandoning Harley was inexcusable.

A spoon clanged against ceramic. Her unflustered, steely-souled mother stirring the tea.

Daddy’s last words came back to her. “I know you’re going to be okay. You are strong.”

And she’d believed it, until now.