Page 8 of Rogue Cowboy
She stared at him.It had been nearly six years.No visits but a lot of late-night texts on WhatsApp—nothing romantic.But their truncated texts had always felt intimate.Secret.Something just for them.But she knew she’d read too much into them.She was just a dumb sister of his friend—the friend he’d just hurled up and over a corral fence.
Rohan was up on his feet, scrambling up the fence.
“Come at me again, I’ll put you down for longer,” Cole promised.
“Jesus, Riley.”Rohan crouched beside her.“I am so sorry.How bad?”
Her cheek throbbed like a hammer strike over and over.
Cole and Rohan loomed, and Rohan looked so…so…everything—angry, guilty, suspicious.
“Oh God,” she whispered, her vision graying, tunneling, and her chest compressing.She recognized the signs of an impending panic attack.They’d become more frequent, not less, as time passed, especially as she took a more public role at the ranch.She’d stopped trying to link up with friends.Do an open mic.Take a girls’ weekend away.Too unpredictable.
She learned to stave most of them off early but not with Cole—why was he here?—who noticed every detail and her brother worried and watchful.
“Not now.Not now.Miracle Lake.”She remembered her mantra—well not really a mantra, but something to think about, focus on.
Though he was blurry, Rohan’s face was scrunched with worry.“What the hell, Riles?Back off, Cole.This is my sister.What the hell are you doing here anyway?Ever heard of texting?”
Riley tried to focus her thoughts.Find control, but the throbbing made her want to hit something.Then cry.Rohan’s worry was making him aggressive.
“Riles, get up.We’ll get you to the medical tent.”Rohan slid his arm around her to pull her upright, and her stomach lurched sickly.
“I’ll carry her,” Cole said.
“Like hell,” Rohan shot back.“I can take care of my sister.”
“Yeah.Saw that.”
Riley closed her eyes.Breathe.Right.She was supposed to breathe and count and do something else.Visualize.But what?
“What the hell, Riley?What’s wrong?Did you hit your head?You’re bleeding.Holy hell.You’re bleeding.Riley.”Rohan’s voice was agonized, overwhelmed her more.
“I’m supposed to count,” she whispered trying to hold on to reality.She’d read that online.Not panic.Not remember.Not slide back there.
She had to take care of her brother.He felt bad enough.And she didn’t want Cole to know she was still a mess.Keeping her eyes closed helped.
“Rohan.I have a first aid kit in my driver-side door.Black Ford F-150 Texas plates next to Riley’s rig.”
Her heart bumped in alarm.How did he know her rig?
Focus.
Miracle Lake.Dive in.Ice cold.Hot sun.Swim under water.Surface, roll over and float arms wide.Embrace nature.
“She needs an ambulance.”Rohan pulled out his phone.
“No.Ro.I’m fine.”Riley gulped in air, not wanting to release the image and come back to reality.Their voices sounded under water, and her ears rang like the church bells Sunday morning at St.James.“I’m fine.Don’t scare Mom.I’m running point, this rodeo, and I’m not letting her down.”
Cinnamon snorted and banged against the railing with her hoof.Once.Twice.Riley’s heart sped up.Cinnamon.She’d be scared.Smell the blood.
“Girl, I’m fine.Fine.Fine, fine,” she whispered.
“Get the kit,” Cole said, his voice low.
“You get the kit,” Rohan bitched back.“I’m not leaving my sister.”
Riley tried to channel some cowgirl sass.She used to have it—buckets of it.She had to defuse the situation between Cole and Rohan.She had to get Cole to keep his mouth shut.Get on his way.What was he doing here?The thoughts spun round and round like they were in her Ninja Blast portable blender.
