Page 76 of Mountain Time
Kacey
Oh good. I’m glad it’s not worse.
“I can go with you just to help drive,” Trey says from the exam table he sits on, buttoning his shirt back up. He shifts his weight and the paper crinkles beneath him. We stayed in Dodge City last night and got him X-Rays at a local doctor today. It’s cheaper than the ER and he wanted to see how he felt.
He broke three ribs and is extremely sore, but he’s lucky. No concussion, organ or spine damage. Thank god for our vests and helmets—they protect us a lot more than most people realize.
“Bumping up and down the road won’t help those ribs heal. Not to mention we both know you won’t be able to stay off the back of the chutes. You need to go home and heal, then come back out and make the finals,” I instruct him without looking up from my phone. I’m going over our rodeo schedule—it’s not good. We entered hard, we both want to go into the finals’ top five.
“I’ll be fine. You can’t drive all this by yourself. Just let me—”
The doctor walks back in, cutting him off. “Alright, Mr. Bennett, I sent your script in. Unless there is anything else you need, you’re free to go.”
We thank him and head for the door.
Once we’re in the truck, I turn in my seat to find Trey taking shallow breaths after the walk out of the office. He’s climbing so slowly into the truck. Broken ribs suck, and there is nothing you can do for them but give them time. I broke a couple a few years ago, I was back in four weeks. They still hurt like hell, but I could grit my teeth and ride.
“Thirty days,” I say to him. Our association allows us to take a thirty-day doctor’s release. This takes us out of any rodeos we have entered and we don’t have to pay our entry fees—unlikewhen a rider turns out of a rodeo and still has to pay the fees. It will cost Trey several thousand dollars in fees if he doesn’t take a doctor’s release.
He leans his head back on the headrest before rolling it sideways and admitting defeat. “Alright. Thirty days, then I’m back, but I’m not taking those pain pills he prescribed.”
I chuckle. “I wouldn’t either. I’ll call my sister, see if she can meet us halfway and pick you up.” I’ve always been leery of taking pain pills—too many professional athletes get hooked on them and ruin their careers.
I guess I’ve rubbed off on Trey.
I call my sister, Payton, and she immediately jumps into action. She agrees to meet me halfway to pick Trey up and I have no doubt she and my mother will cook a mountain of food for him.
“Is she bringing Wacey?” Trey asks. “That kid cracks me up.”
My nephew Wacey is the best—he’s seven now and loves hanging out with Trey and me. He always has a smile on his face and tries to play pranks on everyone. He also says he’s going to be a bull rider someday, much to my sister’s dismay.
“I’m sure. It’s summer, so he’s not in school.” My sister is a photographer, making her schedule flexible and he pretty much goes everywhere with her. Her husband works in the oil fields and is gonea lot, so, often, it’s just the two of them.
I drop Trey off with my sister three hours later, then turn right back around and drive twenty-one hours to Missoula, Montana. I barely make it in time for the Extreme Bulls, and I don’t ride my bull. For the next four days, I bounce between Hermiston, Oregon, back to Missoula for their rodeo, then to Logan, Utah, totaling forty hours of driving.
Kacey has been checking in more frequently, and I can tell she’s worried about me.
I’m exhausted. I can’t keep going at this pace, but I also don’t have a choice. Next week is going to be even worse. When we enter rodeos, we tell them what dates we’d prefer, but we don’t always get those dates. Our preferences are put into a computer system that analyzes our credentials and spits out when we are supposed to compete.
I texted her next week’s schedule and did something I never thought I’d do. I asked if she would be able to fly out and come with me for a bit. I’ve never traveled with a girlfriend—maybe for a day or two, but nothing beyond that. Kacey said she can’t leave the ranch, and I understand that. Plus, I’m sure she’s looking at a map thinking I’m crazy—and she wouldn’t be wrong. But if you’re going to take up this line of work, you must be a little crazy, right? No sane person would take this kind of mental and physical abuse.
Chapter 36
Kacey
Iwalk in the backdoor of Dad’s house, letting the screen door slam behind me.
“You in here?” I holler. His truck was out front, but the house is quiet.
“Out here,” I hear him say from the deck.
I step out onto the deck to find my dog has already found him and is collecting her pet tax via some scratches behind the ear.
“Hey,” I say as I plop myself down in the Adirondack chair next to him. I rub my tired eyes with my thumb and forefinger and let out a sigh.
Watching Trey get knocked out and stomped on was horrible. I had to look away. When rides go smoothly, I can pretend it’s not as dangerous, but when things like that happen, it’s hard not to picture it being Knox. Especially when it happened to his best friend.
“What’s wrong?” Dad stops petting Rein and looks my way.
