Page 4 of Sexting the Cowboy
I know where I’m headed before my boots hit the midway hay path. The medic tent sits like a white tooth at the edge of the grounds, red cross banner reminding the universe there’s a place to take your broken before it turns you into a story. I spotted my youngest heading there right as I was mounting that bull, and since she’s perfectly fine, I figured she was gonna cause a ruckus.
Sure enough, I see her bare knee swinging off a cot as I step inside. One ankle is wrapped with an Ace bandage, and she’s working it for all it’s worth, leaning into a story I already know is fifty percent truth and fifty percent her creative imagination.
A young nurse with a cap shoved backward—JADEN, says the badge—stands in front of her with a paper cup of water, not quite smitten but trying very hard not to be. Blaze has that effect. She arrived last of my brood, and made it her business to be first ineveryone’s minds ever since. I didn’t name her Blaze for nothing. The girl burns.
“I told you,” she’s saying, touching his wrist like he’s delicate crystal, “I’m a medical marvel. I bruise in shapes. Look.”
She peels back an inch of wrap and shows him a crescent moon the color of plums. I know that mark. That’s a rail kiss. It happens when you’re standing where you shouldn’t, watching what you shouldn’t, and forgetting that rails are there to keep animals in and keep you out.
In short, she didn’t sprain a damn thing.
Jaden leans in because he’s a professional, and also because Blaze is a pretty girl. “That is…an interesting crescent.”
“See?” she says, triumphant. She’s got her mama’s blonde hair braided with a blue ribbon to match her eyes, lipstick in the exact red that saysI know I’m trouble and I’m worth it, and a glint in her eye when she catches me in her periphery that says she knows I know she’s faking and she doesn’t give a damn.
“Howdy, Doc,” I say, out of reflex, and then correct myself because the person I’m looking at isn’t a doctor; he’s the nurse who’s going to have to explain to the doctor why a perfectly capable young woman is taking up space on a cot. “Nurse. Sorry. Old habit.”
“Howdy yourself,” he says, smiling with his whole face. “We can do ‘Jaden’ if you like. Congratulations on the ride, Mr. Wyatt.”
“Brick,” I say with a nod. “And thanks. She give you her ankle story yet?”
“I was just hearing about the rare condition of bruise shapes.”
“Yeah.” I roll my eyes at her. “It’s genetic. From her mother’s side.”
Blaze snorts. “You wish it were from Mom’s side. Mom bruised like a peach. I’m titanium. Hey, did you see that spin? That bull was pissed.”
“I saw,” I say, dropping a hand to squeeze her shoulder. “And I saw you standing two inches past where you were supposed to be, which is why your anklehurts.”
She shoots me a look that saysdon’t blow my coverand then tilts her chin toward Jaden like she’s cueing me to play nice. I always do. I raised her with a light hand because the world’s heavy enough, and because she lost her mama too early to squeeze the joy out of our girl for the sake of appearances.
“You,” Blaze says to Jaden, “make a very good paper cup of water. Also, you have excellent hands.”
“Blaze,” I say, forcing a smile. “I think Ford wanted to see you.”
“What?” She bats her lashes. “I’m appreciating healthcare workers. Ford works for us—he can wait.”
Jaden flushes. If my daughter wants to practice being a chaos goblin on him for ten minutes, there are worse choices. I will still bury any dumb boy who hurts her heart under the biggest cottonwood I can find.
I start to thank him proper when I seeher.
She’s at the back table, gloved up, tucking something into a tray with quiet hands. Beige skin, black scrub top already dusted from the day, golden-brown hair pulled back, and flyaways catching the light. There’s a focus to her that hums. Head tiltedthe way good doctors tilt when they’re listening, like they’re tuning to a frequency everybody else can’t hear.
But when she looks up, I get the full hit—green eyes with a sharp mind behind them, a mouth set focused on business. I’ve been in enough tents to know when I’m looking at someone who can stack chaos into order with two hands and a roll of tape.
It’s hard to breathe for a second.
She doesn’t see me looking. That’s fine. I’m not hunting anything today. What I am doing is clocking the doctor who might one day be the difference between my kid going home and my kid not. You learn to notice the ones who steady a world built to wobble.
Definitely not here to hit on her. Nope. That’s not why I’m here. Ain’t got no reason to bother her, and she’s busy. And it’s poor manners to hit on a woman at work.
But damn.
“Dad,” Blaze says, dragging my attention back the way only your kid can. “Jaden says there’s a zipper here that kicks like a bronco. I know you don’t like them, but maybe someone else can ride it with me…”
It’s hard not to laugh at the obviousness of it. “Yeah, maybesomeonecan.”
“Y’all doing okay here?” Jaden asks her, still very much aware of her eyes on him. He’s sweet. I hope he stays that way. Riders chew sweet up for breakfast. Guess he’s decided he might not be interested in her.
