The Cowboy's Forgotten Love
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Tina Radcliffe
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12
Chapter One
Despite the heat of Oklahoma’s last days of summer, Harper Reilly opened all the windows of her truck and let the hot afternoon breeze blow through the cab and whip through her hair. She turned the radio louder and grinned. Life was good.
After a lifetime of being Lucas Morgan’s bestie, she might finally be moving out of the friend zone. She’d mustered the courage to tell him she cared for him three weeks ago at his brother Trevor’s wedding and was nothing less than stunned when the cavalier lady’s man admitted he felt the same way.
Since then, they’d been separated by rodeo circuit obligations. Friday, she’d joined him in Lawton for the Lawton Rangers Rodeo, and she couldn’t stop smiling. Luc was the partner she’d prayed for. The man she longed to settle down with for whatever the future held.
Their performance at the rodeo provided a sweet preface for them to reconnect and discuss where they would go from there on a personal level. On a professional level, she had a list of important things to discuss with him regarding the training center the two of them hoped to launch next year.
Harper had placed first in cowgirl’s barrel racing, and Luc had done well in saddle bronc riding, taking the number two spot after gaining ground on his competition. It was good to see his name on the leaderboard. Following a year riddled with injuries, things had begun to turn around in March. Luc had stayed on the leaderboard ever since. She couldn’t be happier for him. He wanted to go out on top, and that dream was coming true.
Harper checked the dash clock. She’d left her trailer with plenty of time to head into town for Saturday dinner. She and Luc were supposed to meet at Milano’s Italian Restaurant for a romantic meal. He hadn’t said the word romantic, but she’d already checked the place out online. It was definitely romantic.
She smiled again. Was she getting ahead of herself? She hoped not.
They’d shared many meals over the years, but tonight—tonight was like a first date. The rodeo events were over, and they would have a chance to really talk. Yes, there was a lot on the line tonight and she was ready to make serious plans for the future.
As she rounded a bend in the road, the red and blue flashing lights of emergency and police vehicles glowed in the overcast sky. The chatter and intermittent static of a police radio and the crunching of tires filled the air as vehicles slowly moved past the scene on the left side of the road.
Though she couldn’t tell exactly what had happened, Harper sent up a silent prayer for whoever might be involved in the mishap that had caused the two-lane road to be funneled to a single lane with traffic stopped in either direction. A police officer in an orange reflective vest waved her on, and she moved cautiously past the emergency vehicles.
Then the accident scene became visible. A truck had hit a tree. Its front fender and the hood were crumpled, and the front window was shattered.
A black Ford truck. It was a popular vehicle. Back home in Homestead Pass, all the Morgan boys had black pickups. Yet goose bumps raced down her arms, and her heart rate picked up. Harper’s gaze landed on the license plate depicting a white scissor-tailed flycatcher against a blue landscape.
LAZYM#4.
Luc! The fourth Morgan sibling. The man who held her heart.
Her stomach dropped and she nearly hit the brakes. Catching herself at the last moment before she caused another accident, Harper checked her rear mirror, signaled and pulled off the road once she’d cleared the accident perimeter. She jumped from the dually and stumbled when her feet hit the asphalt. Realizing she wore heels and not her usual boots, she regained her balance and raced across the street toward the ambulance, her sundress billowing.
Two uniformed emergency medical responders loaded a person through the open rear doors just as she reached the vehicle. One of the techs climbed into the ambulance while Harper strained to get a look at the person on the gurney. All she saw was the soles of boots and an IV bag suspended on a pole swaying gently.
“My head is killing me,” the patient moaned.
Harper startled at the sound of Luc’s voice. Her heart clenched. This couldn’t be happening.
“Wait. That’s Luc,” she called.
“Lady, we gotta go.” The second tech stood with his hand on the door, his body effectively blocking her from getting any closer.
“Please. Is he going to be okay?”
“Are you immediate family?” he asked.
“A close friend.” Not family. I’m his almost girlfriend.
The tech looked at his partner inside the vehicle and exchanged a silent communication. He leaned closer. “His condition is serious though stable. Your friend is confused at the moment.” The tech raised a hand and met her gaze. “You didn’t hear that from me, or I’ll lose my job for sure.”
Harper nodded. “Thank you. Which hospital are you taking him to?”
“Southwestern Medical Center. Lee Boulevard.”
The door slammed and the tech jumped into the driver’s seat while Harper stood on the side of the road, wrapping her arms around herself as the wind began to pick up. The faint smell of burning rubber reached her nose and she shivered. Overhead, the darkening sky had become more ominous as sirens and flashing lights escorted the ambulance toward town. The wail and yelp blared over and over until it faded out of earshot.
“Ma’am, may I help you?”
Harper whirled around at the voice. A kindly faced police officer in a blue short-sleeved uniform peered at her.
“Lucas Morgan. He’s... He’s a close friend.”
“Ah. This must be quite a shock,” the officer returned. “But he’s in good hands.” He stared at her for a moment. “You look familiar. What’s your name?”
“Harper Reilly.”
“Reilly. Barrel racer. I saw you take the big prize on Friday. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Heat warmed her face at the unexpected recognition.
“I’m sorry about your friend. Do you need directions to the hospital?”
“My truck’s guidance will find it. But thank you.” Harper wiped away the moisture sprinkling down on them as they stood on the side of the road.
“Ma’am, would you happen to have a number for his next of kin to notify them about the accident? I asked Mr. Morgan for that information, but he was a bit confused. Head injury and all.”
Harper straightened at the words and searched the policeman’s face. “Head injury?”
“That’s not a diagnosis, mind you. It’s what I gathered from the scene.” He waved an arm at the truck. “You can see the vehicle hit a tree. Though the airbag deployed, it didn’t protect him from the tree branch that shot sideways through the windshield.”
Stepping closer to the truck, Harper assessed the scene. Her eyes followed the tire tracks from the road to the grassy area. She blinked at the sight of the branch and the webbing of broken safety glass and began to process what she saw. Luc had been headed for the rodeo grounds, not into town. Why? The plan was to meet at the restaurant. He’d said that he had errands to run first. Perhaps Luc finished early and thought they could take one vehicle?
Either way, assessing the angle of that tree branch, she realized that Luc was fortunate to be alive.
“Do you know what happened?” Harper asked.
“An eyewitness headed in the other direction saw a deer run in front of the truck. Your friend’s quick thinking helped him avoid hitting the animal, but he lost control on the wet pavement.”
A horn beeped and the officer took her elbow, gently guiding her across the street. “Tow truck needs to get in here.”
“Where will Luc’s truck be taken?”
“To an impound lot.” He pulled out a card and wrote a number on the back. “Call them on Monday.”
“Thank you. I will.”
Harper offered the officer the Lazy M Ranch number and turned to leave. Though she let the officer know she would be contacting the family, he’d advised he was required to call them in an official capacity as well.
Rain chased her across the road and to her truck. Hands trembling and her heart beating overtime, she fumbled with the door handle and maneuvered inside the vehicle. She wiped the moisture from her face once more then pulled her phone from her purse and hit Call on the familiar number.
The Morgan boys had suffered many losses in the past, including the death of their parents when they were young. She’d known the family since high school. It would be better if they heard the news from her first.
“Morgan.” Luc’s eldest brother answered on the first ring.
“Drew, this is Harper Reilly.”
“Hey, Harper. How are you?”
“I’m f-f-fine...” she stammered. “It’s Luc. I’m calling about Luc.” Harper stared out the window where rain tapped against the windshield, blurring the scenery.
There was an intake of breath and then silence for a moment. “Is he okay? What happened? I keep telling him it’s time to retire from the rodeo.”
Harper hesitated, searching for a gentle response. It wasn’t fair that they had to hear the news over the phone. “A deer ran in front of his truck. He hit a tree.” She swallowed. “The ambulance is taking him to Southwestern Medical Center in Lawton.”
“You’re in Oklahoma?”
“Yes. We finished up the Lawton rodeo this morning and planned to head to Montana for the Fallon County Rodeo tomorrow.”
“You’re close by. That’s good. How bad is it?”
“I’m not family, so I couldn’t get much information. Head injury. Serious but stable.”
“You weren’t with him when it happened?”
“No. Fortunately, I stumbled upon the scene as the first responders loaded him into an ambulance. They tell me he was conscious but confused.”
“Okay.” Drew paused as if thinking. “Okay. We’ll be there right away. Thanks, Harper.”
“Drew, you’re two hours away, and it’s raining here. Drive safely,” she said. “I’ll be praying.”
“Yeah. Prayer. Good plan.”
Harper disconnected the phone and worked to stay calm. “Lord, You’ve had Your hand on Luc for thirty-six years. I trust You to continue to protect him and his family. Amen.”
“Harper!” Lucas waved his friend into the hospital room. Finally, he had a visitor who wasn’t dressed in scrubs or a white lab coat. His best friend carried a raincoat over her arm and wore a pink floral sundress as she hesitantly stepped through the doorway and looked around the room.
“Raincoat?” Lucas asked.
“It’s pouring out there.” She hung her coat on the back of the door and smoothed her long, russet hair.
“Is it?” Huh. He didn’t recall rain. Lucas smiled and the simple movement started off a chain reaction of pain radiating from his jaw to his temple. Pain aside, his heart warmed at the sight of his best friend in a dress, no less, and heels. Tall and willowy, she filled out the dress nicely.
“Look at you all gussied up,” he said. “Got a new fella?” A spark of jealousy jumped to life, but he tamped it down. What was he thinking? Harper was his best friend. Lucas raised a hand. “Kidding. Just kidding.”
Harper frowned, confusion on her face, her green eyes concerned. “Are you okay?” she asked. Worry lines marred her golden freckled complexion and concern shadowed her gaze.
“Okay? Well, that’s a matter of opinion.” He’d spent the last two hours being poked and questioned. All the while, his life had flashed before him on a loop. While he didn’t remember the rodeo accident that had put him in the hospital, he did remember the ambulance ride. All he could think about was what a mess he’d made of things.
It occurred to him that he’d been on the circuit so long he’d missed half the important things in his life. His brothers had settled down. He’d blinked and all three of them had fallen in love with amazing women. Each of his brothers was involved in some capacity with running the Lazy M Ranch they’d all inherited when their parents died. Yep, they’d all found their path except him. Thirty-six years old, and he hadn’t figured out what he wanted to be when he grew up. He wasn’t any closer to finding someone to share his life with now than last year either.
“Luc?”
“Huh?” He looked at Harper. “Did you say something? Sorry. I was thinking.”
“I said that I was here earlier. Your nurse told me you were getting an MRI.”
Lucas scoffed. “I’m certain I’ve had every test there is. MRI. CT. They took a gallon of blood too.” He laughed and then winced. “But you know me. I’ve got a hard head. I’m fine. Takes more than a mean bronc to keep me down.”
“What?” She stared at him as though he had two heads instead of the one that had been knocked around in a blender.
“You know what I mean.” Despite the shooting pain, Lucas laughed again. “How do you like this outfit?” He shot a disparaging look at himself in the trendy blue-and-white-patterned hospital gown and grimaced. “They won’t give me my Wranglers and boots back. Believe me. I tried. I don’t even know where my phone is.”
“It’s probably in your truck. I’ll find it.” She grimaced. “How are you feeling? That’s quite a black eye you have. And there’s a knot the size of Oklahoma on your forehead.”
“Is there?” He touched the bandage at this brow line. Three stitches. The nurse in the emergency room had told him he was fortunate to not have lost his right eye. “I’m not sure what happened, but I have a wicked headache and my nose feels like I was sucker punched.”
“Your nose is definitely swollen. Did they give you anything for the pain?”
“Nope. The nurse said they don’t want me sedated.”
He ran his fingers over the worn silver watch on his wrist. His galloping heart had settled some when he’d realized the memento, once his father’s, was untouched.
“I called your brothers,” Harper said.
“What?” He spit out the question and then bit back the ensuing pain. Note to self, chill out. It hurts less. “Why would you do that, Harp? I’ll be out of here shortly, and we’ll be on our way to Tucson.”
“Tucson?” Her jaw sagged.
“You’re still going, aren’t you?” He was aware that Harper had obligations at home. The Reillys were Homestead Pass royalty thanks to Reilly Pecans, and Harper regularly pitched in during pecan harvest. Plus, her grandmother’s deteriorating health had her going home often now that her folks had moved the matriarch to the Reilly ranch.
“The Tucson rodeo is held in February, Luc.”
“Yep. Arizona in winter.” He leaned back against the pillows and focused on that solitary cheerful thought. “I’m so ready for sunshine and saguaro cactus. Maybe we can take a side trip to Sedona again? It’s out of the way, but why not? All work and no play and all that. What do you think?”
“Sedona? Let’s slow down a minute here,” she said. “Do you know where we are?”
Luc narrowed his eyes. Why was she asking silly questions? “I’m in Fort Worth. We’ve been here all week.” He paused. “Are you okay, Harper? You look confused.”
A disturbance in the hall had both Harper and Lucas turning toward the door. It burst open and the entire Morgan family poured into the hospital room, their boots clacking on the linoleum floor as they entered. A harried nurse followed right behind, admonishing them to be quiet before she left.
His older brothers, Drew and Sam, along with his fraternal twin, Trevor, and their grandfather all stared at him.
Lucas did a double take. Why was his entire family here?
“Well, thank the Lord,” Gramps said. “You’re in one piece.”
“No worse for wear, as you can see. But if you’re all here, who’s watching the ranch?” Lucas asked. “And how did you get here so fast?”
Gramps stepped closer to the bed with a newspaper under his arm. He pulled off his Stetson and hugged Harper. At eighty-four, Gus Morgan could easily be taken for a man ten years younger. Beneath his Stetson, his brown hair was barely touched by gray.
His grandfather turned to Lucas, the sharp blue eyes assessing. “It wasn’t fast. I wanted to go south and pick up Highway 62, but Drew said the back roads were faster.” Gramps scowled and rolled his eyes.
“It was faster,” Drew said.
“My truck’s suspension will never be the same,” Trevor muttered.
“We took two vehicles, but your brothers wouldn’t even stop for a Dr Pepper break,” Gramps groused.
“What are you talking about?” Lucas asked, looking at his family. “It’s four hours from Homestead Pass.”
His grandfather’s eyes rounded and he inched closer to the hospital bed. “In what world? It’s two hours from home to Lawton.”
“Lawton?” Pain surged behind Lucas’s eyes as he processed what Gramps said. Then he sank back onto the pillows.
“You okay, Luc?” Trevor approached him.
“I’m fine. A little banged up, is all. I feel bad you all came out here on a Sunday.”
“Sunday? It’s not Sunday,” Trevor said.
“Sure it is. We got into Fort Worth a week ago. That was February fifth. Do you want me to recite the alphabet backward too?”
“Easy there,” Gramps said. He unfolded the paper tucked under his arm and placed it on the bed. It was an issue of the Homestead Pass Daily Journal. “Son, it’s the middle of August. Not February. And it’s Saturday night.”
“What?” Lucas closed his eyes and then opened them. How could that be?
Gramps shook his head. “Mayhap, I spoke too soon. Sounds like you’re having some issues with your head, son.”
Lucas stared at his grandfather, trying to ignore the dizziness that threatened. For the first time since he’d arrived at the hospital, he was worried about his prognosis. How had he lost such a chunk of time? He worked to string together his memories of the events from February to now, without success. Panic simmered in his gut.
“Have you talked to a doctor?” Gramps asked.
“Talked to a couple of them in the emergency department. They asked me a bunch of questions, including what day it is, and then they sent me for tests.” He shrugged, working to shake off his growing concern and his grandfather’s. “I don’t see what the big deal is. I’ve hit my head before.”
Gramps shot Sam a pointed look. “Go find that nurse and tell her we want a doctor in here pronto, would you?”
“Yes, sir.” His brother gave a solemn nod and left the room.
Minutes later, a different nurse rushed in. The petite young woman assessed him and then his visitors. “Dr. Gradeless will be here shortly. I apologize for the delay. He’s tied up in the emergency room.”
“Can you tell us what’s going on with my grandson in the meantime?” Gramps asked.
The nurse looked at Lucas. “Mr. Morgan? Do you agree to share information about your medical condition with your visitors?”
“They aren’t visitors. This is my family. Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of them.”
Again, her gaze spanned the room. “Aside from the head laceration and bruised ribs, I can tell you that he’s suffering from a concussion.”
Lucas scoffed. “Is that all? I told everyone in the emergency department that I’ve had half a dozen of those. That’s old news.”
“Yes,” the nurse replied. “I believe that is the doctor’s concern.”
A phone trilled and Harper scrambled to pull the cell from her pocket. “Excuse me. It’s my father. I’ll be right back.”
When she slipped out of the room, the nurse gave his brothers and his grandfather a stern look. “It’s past visiting hours. If you keep your voices down, you can stay until the doctor arrives. Otherwise, I’ll have to speak to security and have you escorted out.” She nodded and wove her way around his brothers and out of the room.
“Huh. Would never have called that,” Sam said. “She looked like such a sweet little thing.”
“Those are the ones you have to look out for. Trust me. I married one just like her,” Trevor quipped.
“Married? When did you and Hope get hitched?” Lucas frowned, trying to sort dates in his mind without success.
“Luc, we got married on the first Saturday in August. You were my best man.” Bleak concern filled his brother’s blue eyes.
“Nah. Really?” Why couldn’t he remember his brother’s wedding? “Did I have fun?”
“You always have fun,” Trevor returned. “Though, except for dancing the polka with half the church ladies, you mostly hung out with Harper.”
“Could we focus here, boys? Luc here has amnesia,” Gramps said. “I’m guessing there’s more going on than another concussion.”
“I’ve taken worse spills,” Lucas said. That was the truth. Except this time, he didn’t remember what had happened to land him in the hospital. He held up his right arm. “Remember last summer when you met your wife, Trev? Sixteen stitches up and down my arm.”
“You aren’t helping yourself here, Luc,” Trevor muttered.
Gramps shook his head. “I don’t like it. Don’t like it at all.” He turned to Harper, who’d entered the room again. “Sure appreciate you calling us about Lucas right away.”
Harper nodded, her lips a thin line. Lucas noted the anxiety in her eyes and the tension in her slim frame. The two of them had a long history of supporting each other through the dark times and the good. He longed to hug his buddy and tell her everything would be okay.
Today, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure everything would be okay.
The room fell silent, except for the quiet beep of the IV pump, the sound of patient call buzzers echoing from the hall and the muffled squeak of shoes on linoleum.
His brother Drew walked to the window, brow creased as he took in the night sky. Lucas hated worrying his family. The Morgans had had a rough past. Drew was the oldest, and things had fallen on his shoulders when their parents had died until Gramps moved in. Luc and Trevor had been thirteen. It hadn’t been a good time, and Luc hadn’t made it any easier. While his brothers were stoics who’d swallowed their grief, he had been inconsolable for over a year.
Minutes later, a light tap at the door frame proceeded the entry of a physician in a white lab coat. A tall man with a generous smile glanced around the room. “Good evening. I’m Dr. Gradeless.” He took a moment to shake hands with everyone in the room and exchange introductions before approaching the foot of the bed.
Lucas tensed, his fists opening and closing as he waited for the impending diagnosis.
“Doc, what’s going on?” Gramps burst out. “Luc’s lost months of his life.”
“I understand. The scans show a traumatic brain injury. It appears he has retrograde amnesia.”
“Can you explain that so I can understand it, Doc?” Gramps asked. “What’s the difference between a traumatic brain injury and a concussion?”
“A concussion is a type of TBI. The brain moves and is bruised. In your grandson’s case, it’s led to retrograde amnesia.”
“‘Retrograde amnesia,’” Drew repeated. “What can we do?”
“Rest is the most important thing right now. It’s a wait-and-see situation,” the doctor said. “The symptoms usually go away on their own in hours or weeks, sometimes even months.”
“Wait and see?” Gramps shook his head. “No offense, Doc, but you spent all that time in medical school and that’s the best you can do?”
“Point well taken.” Dr. Gradeless gave a nod of acknowledgment. “Unfortunately, there is no definitive answer with head injuries. The good news is that, according to the paramedic’s report, the good Samaritan who observed the crash reported that Lucas didn’t lose consciousness for long. Your grandson is alert and shows no other symptoms except a headache and mild dizziness. We’ll provide acetaminophen for the headache. He needs to rest for the next twenty-four hours while the staff monitors him for any worsening symptoms.”
“Then I can get back to work?” Lucas ran a hand over his chin. Maybe things weren’t as lousy as he’d thought.
The physician narrowed his gaze. “What work is that?”
“Rodeo. Saddle bronc riding.”
“Oh no.” The doctor’s face reflected surprise. “That is precisely the activity you must avoid. Rest from mental and physical activity is what I’m prescribing.”
Lucas stared at him, hope fading. “For how long?”
“The plan is to take things one day at a time, gradually resuming regular nonjarring activities.”
“And then I’ll get my memory back?”
“Once again, there are no definitive answers when it comes to a brain injury. There are various kinds of memory and a range of types of memory loss and recovery.”
Dr. Gradeless eyed the group. “All of you should be observing Mr. Morgan for neurological changes as well. I’ll provide a guidance handout at discharge and a referral to a neurologist in your area. He should follow up with an office visit as soon as possible, and head to an emergency room if his symptoms worsen.” The doctor paused. “In the meantime, rest is the prescription.”
“Rest,” Lucas muttered at the offensive takeaway from the doctor’s spiel.
“Think of it as an opportunity to do some of the things you’ve put off.”
“Like what? Basket weaving?”
Gramps snorted.
The neurologist shot Lucas a disapproving glance. “Mr. Morgan, I don’t think you appreciate how fortunate you are. That accident could have been fatal.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry, Doc,” Lucas apologized. “I know you’re right, but this is an adjustment.”
Dr. Gradeless scanned the room, his eyes coming back to Lucas. “Here’s the best advice I can offer. Don’t push yourself. If you are pressed to recall those missing memories, you’re going to increase your stress and the likelihood of headaches. Additionally, that stress can lead to depression.” He paused. “This isn’t a race to remember the past.”
Lucas stared at him, a bit stunned by the words.
“I’d like to recommend a therapist to work through how you’re feeling.”
Lucas nodded at Gramps. “My grandfather is the family therapist.”
“Oh, I wasn’t aware.” Dr. Gradeless looked at the Morgan patriarch.
“He’s being facetious,” Gramps inserted. “But I can tell you that we’re on it. Fact is, he has a sister-in-law who’s a registered nurse. You can be sure he’ll have plenty of care.” He eyed Lucas. “Whether he likes it or not.”
Lucas barely resisted groaning aloud. His gaze met Harper’s. She was the one person in the room who really understood his struggles the last year. She lifted her hands as if in prayer and mouthed, It’s going to be okay.
In that moment, he relaxed a bit. Things were messed up, all right, but he knew to keep his eyes on the Lord, no matter what. He looked at Harper again and sent up a prayer, thanking Him for his best friend.
