Page 88 of Sexting the Cowboy
“I lost my parents when I was still in college, you piece of—” I cut myself off. Shouting at him isn’t going to fix a damn thing. “You know what? I’m busy, and you’re drunk. And the only person who gets to decide what I do with my heart and body is me. If you have a medical complaint, say it. If not, get out of my tent.”
He laughs, a sharp, ugly sound that doesn’t make it to his eyes. “You ruined me, and now you’re just gonna walk away?” He glances at Jaden. “Doesn’t seem right, does it?”
To my surprise, Jaden’s eyes darken as he stands taller. “You don’t want my opinion on you, Reno.” I have never seen him look menacing—the man is practically a golden retriever in human form—but right now, I wouldn’t cross him.
Better take the temperature down in here. “I didn’t ruin you, Reno, you did that yourself. Every time you reach for a bottleinstead of a person. I tried to be there for you, and you know it. So don’t blame me because you didn’t let me help you. Get your shit together, and do it on your own time. I have patients to see.”
He sways, just a fraction, like the ground isn’t exactly where he left it. For a raw moment, I see the other version of him, the one with a book in his hands and a kindness under his bones he doesn’t know what to do with. Then anger wins the coin toss. “You’ll never see me again.”
“Good.” I don’t look away.
He stomps out, muttering something under his breath that sounds like cursing and a promise he can’t keep. The flap smacks back into place.
My hands are steady. My heart is not.
Jaden reappears at my elbow and nudges my shoulder with his in a sideways hug meant for stoic people. “Proud of you.”
I let out the breath I’ve been holding since Reno walked in. “I’m proud of me too. And you. Didn’t know you could do scary.”
He chuckles. “That’s what makes it effective.”
I pick up the clipboard and set it down again, because the movement is what keeps me from shaking. “Okay. Who’s next?”
“Kid with a knee,” Jaden says, leaning out to catch the worried mother’s eye and gesture them in. “And a ranch hand who thinks duct tape is an appropriate wound closure.”
“Of course he does.” I wash my hands and let the ritual reset my muscles. “Bring in the duct tape evangelist after the kid.”
Between patients, Jaden slides a cold water bottle across the table. The crowd swells to afternoon roar. The speakers rumbleand then blare. My shirt sticks between my shoulder blades. The pulse at my throat remembers it has opinions.
Reno doesn’t come back. No one else from the Wyatt camp does either, not for a while. It’s a relief and a strange ache.
We treat a sunburn that will punish somebody tomorrow, a hand that got in an argument with a rope and lost, a concussion I send to the hospital because I refuse to let a seventeen-year-old sleep it off in the back of a pickup.
The truth is, I am worn out by this and by everything else, but the only way I know how to rest is to keep moving. Brick’s face keeps showing up in my peripheral vision, and I keep refusing to turn my head. I looked once, but it turned out to be another cowboy. Guess I’m seeing him everywhere.
Everywhere but where I want him.
With me.
28
BRICK
I textthe group thread six words:Trailer. Ten minutes. No Reno. Love you.
Levi replies with a thumbs-up andon my way. Cash sendskand a little running man that makes me smile despite everything. Blaze calls me instead of texting, because she’s a walking argument.
“You dying?” she says without hello.
“Not today.”
“Then why the family meeting voice?”
“Just get here.”
“No preview? Come on. I’m your favorite.”
I snort. “You’re all my favorite.”
