Page 88 of A Nice Day for a Cowboy Wedding

“It’s a bad break, but it’s a fairly common one. I know your kid’s being hurt is scary, and you’re still going to worry, but I just want you to know, everything is going to be okay.” The paramedic reached out to pull the back doors closed, and Cora could only watch silently as Shane disappeared.

* * *

Gavin, Boone, and Ben were still holding him back from getting into the ambulance. Shane didn’t think Cora had noticed. He hoped toGodCora hadn’t noticed because he hadn’t been thinking.

The minute she’d stepped into that ambulance, he’d lost it. He’d only wanted to be in that ambulance with them. He’d only wanted to be the one helping her while she looked so damn lost. All he’d known how to do was fight.

Thank God for everyone’s stopping him from taking that fight to Cora. He had to get himself under control. Slowly, he stopped struggling, stoppedfightingthe arms holding him back. Tried to focus on the voices telling him to calm down, that everything was going to be okay.

The kid’s arm was broken.Broken. Micah needed surgery, and Cora . . .

Focus.

Broken arm. Gavin had broken an arm in middle school, but he hadn’t needed surgery. Mom had driven him to the hospital, and Shane had stayed home to watch the other kids.

But this was different. Micah hadn’t been an idiot middle schooler showing off for Lou by jumping out of trees. Micah had been in the care of Shane’sfamily, and they had failed.

Hehad failed.

Slowly Ben and Boone and Gavin let him go, and Shane focused on the cold ball deep inside his gut. A kind of numbness. A focus. He needed to solve this problem.

“What happened?” he demanded, low, cold, furious. He couldn’t even begin to try and get anger out of him. The boy was hurt. So, he focused on controlling it. On using it to be his center. Cold fury would get him to the next step.

“Shane.”

He whirled on Boone, and it all came together in a painful blow. Boone looked pale, shaken. His voice had broken as he’d saidShane. “I’m so—”

“You fucking took him.”

“I—”

Shane didn’t think. Hecouldn’tthink. His body reacted of its own volition as his arm swung out, his fist connecting with Boone’s jaw. He barely felt the blow. The crack of bone slapping against bone was nothing but a faint sound far in the distance. Dimly he heard the gasps of his family as Boone stumbled back, his leg buckling so he fell onto his ass.

“I told you no,” Shane roared down at him, the rage and pain and betrayal and failure engulfing him. “I told you it was dangerous and he wasn’t ready, and you took him?”

Boone didn’t try to get up. He sat on the ground looking up at Shane, looking downright sick. “Look, I made a mistake.”

“Amistake? You madeamistake? That boy’s arm is broken so badly he needs surgery, and you madeamistake.”

“There was a snake. The horse spooked. He fell and—” Boone snapped his jaw shut, clearly grappling with some emotion, but it didn’t dim any of Shane’s fury. “I’m sorry. You don’t know how sorry. You were right, and I am sorry.”

Shane wanted to hit him again. Kick him. Pummel him again and again. But Shane was afraid if he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop, and clearly the fall was as much because of Boone’s old injuries as because of Shane’s punch. That flicker of weakness, of vulnerability, was the only thing that kept Shane from losing it completely.

“You’re a worthless son of a bitch,” he said, low and serious, because if he couldn’t land a physical punch, maybe he could land one that would do some damage. Reach some part of him.

“Shane. I said I was sor—”

“Dad would be ashamed down to his soul, more so than even me,” Shane continued. “That boy could be dead, and then what would your ‘sorry’ mean? You should leave this ranch and never show your face again.”

“Shane Michael Tyler.”

“Don’t,” he said, holding his hand up as his mother advanced on him. “That boy . . .” Shane couldn’t swallow past the lump in his throat. “I was very clear in my instructions. No drive, and you keep him safe.Safe. Do you have any idea . . .” He’d been about to saywhat they’ve been through, but, hell, even he didn’t know what they’d been through. Not really.

He turned and started walking for the rental car with its doors still open, engine still running. “I’m going to the hospital.”

Molly hurried after him. “I’ll drive you.”

He shook his head, about to slide into the driver’s seat. “No.”

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