Lonetree Ranchers: Colt
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Kathie DeNosky
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10
One
As Kaylee Simpson arranged rolls of gauze and tape on a cart in the training room, the sudden hushed silence of the Ford Center crowd sent a numbing fear straight through her. There was only one reason an arena full of Professional Bull Riders fans became that quiet—one of the riders was down and not moving.
Closing her eyes, she held her breath and tried not to think as she waited for the applause that would signal the rider was being helped to his feet. But with each passing minute the likelihood of that happening dwindled considerably. When she heard several sets of boots hurrying down the corridor toward the training room, she knew they were bringing the rider in on a stretcher.
Dear God, please don’t let it be anyone I know, she prayed.
“Get his vitals,” Dr. Carson ordered as he entered the room followed by several other men carrying a stretcher. They hoisted it onto the examining table.
Grabbing the needed equipment, Kaylee’s hands shook as she stepped up beside the unconscious cowboy. But the moment she gazed down at the handsome face of the fallen bull rider, her heart slammed against her ribs and she felt the blood drain from her cheeks.
“Colt,” she whispered out loud.
The blood pressure cuff fell from her trembling hands to the floor. She barely noticed.
“You know this guy?” one of the paramedics asked, picking up the cuff on his way back to the arena.
Apparently he had no idea who the bull riders were. But Kaylee knew.
Unable to get words past the huge lump clogging her throat, she took the cuff from him, closed her eyes and nodded. She’d grown up around most of the cowboys on the PBR circuit, and until three years ago, most of them had been like brothers to her.
But the one lying on the table in front of her had always been different. She’d known Colt Wakefield from the time he was sixteen years old and she was ten. He’d been her brother’s best friend, the love of her young life and the man who had broken her heart.
“Kaylee, if you’re not going to take his blood pressure, step aside and let one of the others do it,” Dr. Carson said impatiently as he ran clinical hands over Colt’s scalp.
The doctor’s sharp tone snapped her out of her shocked state and she moved to follow his directive. Placing the cuff on Colt’s arm, she pumped it full of air, then listened with the stethoscope. “His blood pressure is one ten over seventy.”
“Good. Help me get his riding gear off and his shirt open so we can see what we have here,” Dr. Carson instructed.
Kaylee took a deep breath and unzipped the front of the protective black leather vest with trembling fingers, then released the heavy-duty Velcro closure at Colt’s right shoulder while Dr. Carson unfastened the left side. Forcing herself to continue, she pushed the heavy leather out of the way and unsnapped his chambray shirt for the doctor to take a closer look.
But when she parted the garment, the sight of Colt’s well-developed chest and rippling stomach muscles sent a shiver straight to her core and brought back memories that she’d worked for three long years to forget. Without thinking, she touched his smooth, warm skin with her fingertips. The last time she’d seen him without a shirt—the last time she’d seen him, period—had been the night after her brother’s funeral. Devastated by Mitch’s death, they’d turned to each other for comfort and support, and ended up…
“K-Kaylee?”
The sound of Colt’s voice caused her to recoil. He’d regained consciousness without her realizing it.
Glancing down into his incredibly blue eyes, she felt as if she might not be able to draw her next breath. “Hi, Colt.”
When she’d met him fourteen years ago, she’d decided he was the cutest boy she’d ever seen. But his good looks back then had only been a hint of the devilishly handsome man he would become. With raven hair and brilliant blue eyes, he’d always taken her breath away. Unfortunately, it appeared time hadn’t lessened his effect on her.
Deciding to revert to the teasing relationship they’d shared before the events that changed her life forever, she added, “I see you’re still doing your famous header dismount.”
His lean cheeks flushed a dull red. “And I see you’re still the same smart-mouthed little brat you’ve always been,” he said, the mischievous light dancing in his eyes taking the sting from his words.
“That’s where you’re wrong, cowboy,” she said, smiling sadly. Unable to stop herself, she added, “If you’ll remember, I had to grow up pretty fast about three years ago.”
Colt felt as if he’d been punched in the gut by Kaylee’s cryptic comment. He wasn’t sure if she was referring to Mitch’s death or how he’d walked away without looking back the morning after the most incredible night of his life. Either way, the guilt that had plagued him for the past three years welled up inside until he felt as if it might choke the life out of him.
“How have you been, Kaylee?” he asked, unsure of what else to say. He watched her tuck a strand of silky auburn hair behind her ear as if trying to figure out how best to answer his question.
“I’ve survived. I finally finished my degree last year.”
He frowned. “What took you so long? A few years ago you only had one more year left.”
She seemed to avoid looking directly at him. “Something came up and I had to take time off from school.” She wiped the dirt from his face with a damp cloth. “What about you, Colt? How have you been?”
He started to shrug, but the grinding pain in his left shoulder shot up the side of his neck and caused a low groan to echo throughout the training room. Humiliated at having Kaylee see him in such a weakened condition, he gritted his teeth and said the first thing that came to mind. “I’d be a hell of a lot better if you weren’t standing over me like a vulture.”
As soon as the words were out, Colt cursed himself for being a dirty lowlife snake. He’d rather cut off his right arm than to hurt Kaylee more than he knew he already had. But from the expression that fleetingly crossed her pretty face, he could tell that was exactly what he’d done.
Before he could apologize for being a total jerk, Dr. Carson broke the tension filling the small room. “It looks like you’ve got a broken collarbone in addition to a slight concussion, Colt. To be sure, I’m sending you to the hospital for a set of X rays.”
Colt stared at the man as the gravity of the diagnosis sank in, along with an overwhelming amount of frustrated disappointment. “How long will I be out of commission?”
“Depending on how bad the break is, I’d say you’re looking at eight to twelve weeks before you make it back,” Carson answered.
It was the very last thing Colt wanted to hear. Ranked number three on this year’s PBR tour, he was close enough to the top that he had a damned good shot at the season championship. Missing the last part of the regular season events would all but end his hopes of winning the title. The best he could hope for now was to make it back in time for the finals in November.
“I’ve called the ambulance crew for transport to the hospital,” he heard Kaylee say from somewhere across the room.
She’d made good her escape and had moved away from the examining table while the doctor talked to him. Colt couldn’t say that he blamed her. He should be horsewhipped for the way he’d talked to her and he needed to apologize.
“Kaylee?”
A man in a navy-blue paramedic jumpsuit with the name of Forrester embroidered on the breast pocket stepped close. “Are you wanting the cute little chick with the great set of—”
“Watch it, pal,” Colt warned angrily. As long as he was around, he wouldn’t tolerate anyone talking about Kaylee like that. She deserved the utmost respect and Colt intended to make sure she got it. “That girl just happens to be my best friend’s sister.”
Knowing Colt was in no shape to do anything about his comment, the man shrugged. “That’s funny. She didn’t look like much of a girl to me.”
Colt ground his back teeth at the guy’s lascivious expression. “And just what did she look like to you, Forrester?”
“One hundred percent all woman,” the man answered, grinning suggestively.
If Colt hadn’t been flat on his back and in pain, he’d have knocked the guy into the middle of next week. But as much as he wanted to teach the jerk a lesson in respect, he knew it would be some time before he was up to a good old-fashioned fistfight.
“Don’t worry, cowboy. She was on her way out when we came in,” the man went on as he and his rotund partner lifted Colt to the gurney they’d rolled up beside the examining table. “She’ll most likely meet us at the hospital.”
Colt didn’t say anything as they transported him out of the training room to the ambulance. He knew damned good and well that Kaylee wouldn’t be there when they arrived at the hospital.
After what happened three years ago, combined with the way he’d talked to her this evening, he’d be lucky if she ever spoke to him again.
A month after seeing Colt at the Professional Bull Riders event, Kaylee still found herself thinking about their encounter. He’d been the last person she’d wanted to see. From his reaction, it had been crystal clear that he’d felt the same way about seeing her.
She poured herself a fresh cup of coffee and wandered into the living room of her small apartment to curl up in a corner of the couch. Their run-in had dredged up some painful memories that she thought she’d worked through. Apparently she’d been wrong.
Over the years, cheering for Colt and her brother, Mitch, had become a tradition. She’d been on hand that fateful weekend three years ago for the PBR event in Houston. But what had started out as a typical Saturday evening of watching the two men she loved most in the world compete in the first round of bull riding had suddenly turned horribly tragic.
Colt had successfully ridden the bull he’d drawn, then helped Mitch pull his rope to get ready for his ride. But the moment the chute gate opened, Kaylee had known Mitch was in serious trouble. The bull’s first jump had been violent, whipping Mitch forward and slamming his face into the back of the bull’s head, knocking him out. Bullfighters had moved in immediately, but before they could even distract the animal, Mitch had landed on the ground in front of the angry beast.
Tears welled in Kaylee’s eyes as she relived the horrific events. The bullfighters had distracted the bull enough to keep it from hooking Mitch with its horns, but as the animal jumped over Mitch to go after the bullfighters, its back hooves had come down full-force in the middle of Mitch’s chest.
With no regard to his own safety, Colt had vaulted the back of the chute and run to protect her brother. After he’d made sure someone was helping Mitch, he had come looking for her in the crush of people behind the chutes. He’d accompanied her to the hospital to wait while Mitch was in surgery. Then later, he’d held her when they received the news that her only brother—her only living relative—had died on the operating table.
“M-mommy!” a little voice cried from down the hall.
The sound of her daughter awakening from her afternoon nap was a welcomed release from the disturbing memories. Setting her coffee cup on the end table, Kaylee rose from the couch. As she walked down the hall to see about Amber, Kaylee wiped away the last of her tears. She had Amber to think about now. She didn’t have time to worry about a past she couldn’t change.
“Did you have a bad dream, sweetie?” she asked, lifting the little girl from her small bed.
Amber shook her head sleepily, put her finger in her mouth and buried her face in her mother’s neck.
“It’s all right. Mommy won’t let anything hurt you,” Kaylee said, hugging her daughter close.
She started into the living room to sit in the rocking chair with Amber, but the ringing door bell had her detouring to see who the current salesman was and what he was trying to sell today. Turning on the tape player she kept by the door, she smiled at Amber as the sounds of a snarling German Shepard filled the room.
“One of these days, Mommy’s going to get a real dog with enormous teeth and an insatiable appetite for door-to-door salesmen.” Making sure the security chain was in place, Kaylee took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob. “Until then, let’s see how fast we can send this joker on his way.”
As Colt waited at the door to the second-floor apartment, he adjusted the sling holding his left arm snug against his body and looked around at the shabby building. What was Kaylee doing here instead of living on her ranch up in the Oklahoma panhandle?
While he’d been recuperating last month, he’d done a lot of soul-searching and had come to the realization that he had to find her and make things right. He shook his head. He’d been ready to jump on that paramedic for his lack of respect toward her, yet, to his chagrin, he’d realized that he hadn’t acted any better. He’d snapped at her for no other reason than the fact that she’d witnessed him give in to the pain of a broken collarbone like some little kid.
But when he’d gotten back on his feet, he’d gone to the Lazy S only to find that Kaylee had sold the ranch and moved to Oklahoma City shortly after Mitch had died. He’d had to resort to searching through the phone book to find her. Fortunately there’d only been one Kaylee Simpson listed in the area.
The door suddenly opened as far as the security chain would allow. “I don’t care what you’re selling. I don’t want—” Kaylee stopped abruptly. “Colt?”
Pushing the wide brim of his Resistol up with his thumb, he rocked back on his heels, chuckling at the recording of a snarling dog. “Does that tape of Kujo really chase off door-to-door salesmen?”
She stared at him through the narrow opening as if she couldn’t quite believe her eyes. “W-what are you doing here?”
He winced at her blunt tone. She sure didn’t seem very happy to see him. All things considered, he couldn’t say that he blamed her.
Hoping to tease her into a better mood, he grinned. “Well, hello to you, too, brat. You want to shut off Kujo, now that you know it’s me and not somebody trying to sell a vacuum cleaner?”
She turned away and the sound of the snarling dog ceased. “I’m sorry. Hello, Colt.”
“Me see,” a little voice said a moment before a set of tiny fingers appeared around the edge of the door in an effort to open it wider.
Colt frowned. “Do you have company?”
“No, but this really isn’t a good time,” Kaylee said, prying the baby’s fingers from the door.
The panic suddenly filling her violet eyes bothered him. A lot. “Are you all right, Kaylee?”
She nodded. “I’m fine.”
“Me see, Mommy,” the little voice insisted. “Me see.”
“Not now, sweetie,” Kaylee said gently.
Colt felt as though he’d been sucker punched. Kaylee had a child? Was she married?
“We need to talk,” he said seriously.
He told himself that Mitch would want Colt to make sure she was doing okay. But the truth was, he wanted to know what was going on.
“I can’t imagine what you think we need to talk about.” She gave him a one-shouldered shrug, but he could tell from the tone of her voice that she was nervous as hell about something.
“Come on, Kaylee,” he said, watching her closely. “I drove all the way down here from the Lonetree just to talk to you. The least you can do is give me five minutes.”
Her defeated expression caused the air to lodge in his lungs. Something was definitely going on, and Colt had every intention of finding out what is was.
“Kaylee?”
She closed the door, released the chain, then swung it wide for him to step into the tiny apartment. “I’m sorry about the mess,” she said, pointing to the toys scattered on the floor in front of the couch. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
Colt turned to tell her he was used to seeing toys scattered all over his two brothers’ homes, but the words died somewhere between his vocal cords and opened mouth. The baby riding Kaylee’s hip was a little girl with raven curls. Her face was buried shyly against Kaylee’s neck, but something about the child caused his scalp to prickle and his pulse to race.
“Is she yours?” he asked cautiously.
Kaylee stared at him for what seemed like an eternity before she slowly nodded. “Yes. This is my daughter, Amber.”
At the sound of her name, the baby looked up, but when she saw him staring at her, she stuck one tiny index finger in her mouth and once again hid her face in Kaylee’s shoulder.
The glimpse Colt had gotten hadn’t been much, but it was enough to see that the little girl’s eyes were blue. A vivid blue. His sisters-in-law, Annie and Samantha, called it “Wakefield blue.”
His heart pounding against his ribs like a jungle drum, he had a hard time drawing air into his lungs. The child had to be around the same age as his brother Brant’s little boy, Zach. From there it didn’t take much for Colt to do the math.
Swallowing hard, he asked, “She’s mine, isn’t she, Kaylee?”
Colt watched her bite her lower lip to keep it from trembling. He knew the answer, but he needed to hear her tell him.
“Kaylee?”
She took a deep breath, then defiantly met his gaze. “Yes, Colt. Amber is your daughter, too.”
