Page 2 of His First Baby Rodeo

He could only imagine what they must be saying about him now, watching him lying in the dirt. He knew the kind of talk that circulated about him. He knew people liked to suggest he was too old for this sport. They were wrong, of course, but they would be looking at him now and justifying everything they’d ever thought about him.

“Let’s get him moved onto the backboard,” a voice said.

Mac flicked his eyes to the right and saw that a team of medics had carried a backboard out into the ring. “No,” he said. “Absolutely not.”

“Mr. Palmer, if you have a back injury—”

“This is ridiculous.” He pushed through the nest of hands trying to hold him down and sat up. He wasn’t going to be carried out of here like some helpless, broken man. He was stillMac Palmer, for God’s sake.

But when he tried to get to his feet, pushing off with a hand on the ground, pain shot through his arm all the way to his shoulder. Gasping, he fell backward.

“Get him on the board,” someone said.

“No,” Mac barked, gritting his teeth through the pain. “Help me up.”

“Mr. Palmer—”

“Damn it, I am walking out of this arena. Now, help me up.”

He heard the sighs of resignation around him, but he knew he’d made it clear by now that he wasn’t leaving on their backboard. He allowed himself to be lifted to his feet.

A roar of applause went up around the arena, but it was small comfort to him.

“I’ll be back for the next event,” he said, as much to himself as to anyone else. “I’ll take it next time.”

“Mr. Palmer, I think your arm is broken,” said the medic who had gotten to him first. “We’re going to need to get you to the hospital, and never mind the next event.”

“I’m fine,” Mac protested.

But he wasn’t fine. He wanted to believe that they were wrong, but it was hard to ignore the pain in his arm. He’d been numb to it at first — he guessed the adrenaline coursing through his body had been intense enough that he hadn’t felt his injuries. But he was aware of them now. He would be covered in bruises by morning, and even moving his arm felt like a herculean effort.

He did need to go to the hospital, as much as he hated to admit it. This wasn’t going to go away. But maybe there was something they could do for him there that would get him back in competition shape quickly. Maybe there would be some kind of surgery for this. There had to be something — something that would have him ready to compete again. He had spent too long training and anticipating this season for it to be over just like that.

And yet… in the back of his mind, he knew that it wasn’t going to be the way he hoped it would. He’d been around the rodeo circuit long enough, and had seen enough injuries, to know what happened when someone was thrown like this.

It meant the end of his season.

He might be able to come back next season, when he had had time to recuperate. But even if that was true, he would need to go through training all over again. All the work he had done to get ready for this season was going to go to waste, because he would lose all his strength while his injury was tended to.

Mac walked out of the arena, flanked by the medics, half in a state of shock. It couldn’t be ending like this. Tonight was supposed to be his big comeback. Tonight was the night he was going to show everyone that he was ready to compete, that he wasn’t too old, that he didn’t need to retire from the sport. Tonight was about proving himself to everyone who had doubted him.

Instead, he had spent less than five minutes total in the ring. He had failed utterly.

He walked past Eric, who still had the hat Mac had signed in his hands. He was turning it around and around, and it occurred to Mac that the hat probablywouldbe worth something after tonight — if not for the reasons he and Eric had speculated about. This hat had been signed at the rodeo that had seen Mac Palmer injured. There would definitely be stories about it.

He tried not to think about the fact that, just a few minutes ago, he’d been full of hope. The whole thing had come crashing down around his shoulders, and for now, there was simply nothing to be done about it.

CHAPTER2

MAC

Three days later, his arm in a sling, Mac stood on his ranch and surveyed the land.

He was in over his head. He had no chance at running this place on his own. It was difficult enough to manage the ranch singlehandedly, but with only one good arm? There was no way he could possibly do it. Mac Palmer didn’t like to admit that he needed help with anything, that there was anything he was incapable of, but there had been a lot of that over the past few days.

First he’d had to accept that his rodeo season was over almost before it had even begun. Even as the doctor at the hospital had been setting his arm, it was difficult to believe that he had lost everything so quickly. He had been training for this season, looking forward to it, for months. Now, just like that, it was gone.

But that had only been the beginning. When he’d arrived at home, he had begun the painful process of realizing just how little he was able to do for himself. His first attempt at showering had been an ordeal, and cooking was so difficult that he’d realized it was better to just order takeout every night. That was what he planned on doing tonight — he had been thinking about a hot, cheesy pizza all day — but he also had to come to terms with the fact that he hadn’t been keeping up with his ranch work since his injury, and there was almost no way he could hope to do so. Even making the attempt was foolish, because things would start to fall through the cracks right away.

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