I adjusted my hat, then readied myself to take off. “On three?”
He nodded. “One. Two. Three!”
The two of us raced forward, focused on the crest of a hill and the horizon where a tall ancient oak stood proud. The wind whipped my face, and the only sounds were our breathing and the pounding of hooves. As we bolted across the land our grandfather had so painstakingly cultivated, land that was ours now, land that I had to decide if I wanted to keep, my thoughts drifted to the heavy decision hanging over my head. My brothers didn't know it, but I was seriously considering leaving. Now that my obligations according to Dad’s will were met, except for that pesky hockey team, I didn’t have anything keeping me here. All I had left was my remaining time as owner of the Seattle Cylcones. But I’d be able to handle that from anywhere as long as I visited and checked in. I could head back down to Texas to help my grandfather, my mama’s daddy, keep his ranch going. Not because I had to. But because a big part of me felt like I didn't really fit in here.
Luke and Sutton had spent their lives here. But me? As soon as I could, I got out. I left and didn't want to come back unless I had to. Things had changed in the last year or so, but splitting my time between Texas and Montana wasn't easy.
Watching the two of them fall in love and marry their girls left me with a lingering suspicion that I wasn’t cut out for life the way they saw it. How could I even hope to form any kind of lasting attachment when my relationships had to end before they really got going? Every three months, I left, went down to Texas or came back up to Montana, and then started the cycle all over again. Throw in the occasional trip to Seattle, that was no way to find something lasting.
Lost in my own thoughts. I barely registered that Luke had pulled ahead of me, his horse’s tail whipping in the wind. How the hell did he get a full length on me?
“Oh, no you don’t,” I grumbled, pressing my heels into my horse’s side and urging her forward.
She gave a little huff of annoyance, but I knew she'd do what I asked. She was gonna complain about it, but she’d do it. My heart was racing from the thrill. This was as close to flying as I’d ever get. I slowed as we neared the hill, opening my mouth to call out and warn Luke of the slick ground. But without warning, his horse’s foot slipped, his leg buckled, and my brother went flying out of the saddle. Turbo came down on the ground, Luke a few feet in front of him. Neither one of them moving.
“Fuck, Luke!”
I brought my horse to a stop and dismounted as quick as I could before running to my brother. His leg was bent at an unnatural angle, his eyes closed. Carefully, I inspected his head for any kind of wound, but didn’t see anything. He was still breathing, thank God. His pulse was strong and steady. Then he coughed, and his brows pulled together as he came to.
“Fuck, what happened?”
“Don't move. I think Turbo might have broken his leg, and you're not in much better shape.”
He didn't listen to me and sat up, his face going white as a sheet as pain careened through him. He didn’t even have to tell me. I could see the agony written in every tense muscle.
“Oh my God.”
From where we sat, we could see Turbo. His breathing was labored, his tail and ears flicking in frustration. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and immediately called for Clara. God bless the woman, she answered on the first ring.
“Hey, Mav, what's up?”
“You gotta come. We're at the hill. And . . . I don't know, I think . . . Fuck, I think Turbo broke his leg.” My voice was frantic and harsh as I tried to hold on to some small thread of control. “And someone call Doc because Luke's hurt bad.”
Luke muttered, “I’m fine. I just gotta walk it off.”
The idiot tried to stand up, but I shoved him down and said, “Don't you move a fucking muscle. You are not fine.”
Flashes of the night our dad found Sutton's mama, the night we lost the only woman who really wanted to take care of us, came to the forefront of my mind. It's a wonder any of us got back on a horse after she died. And now, seeing my brother flying through the air, laying there, still and unconscious? It brought it all back.
“Okay, I'm coming. Try to keep him down.” Clara was all calm and serious. The port in the storm.
“Okay.”
“Don't let him get up on that leg.”
“Which one?” I asked about both of them.
“Either of them. I’ll call Doc right now. We'll be there as soon as we can.”
“Do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Hurry.”
As soon as we hung up, I cut a glance at my brother. “Do you want to call your wife, or should I?”
Luke grimaced. “I can do it.”
Nodding, I sat there, one hand resting gently on Turbo’s neck, petting him, trying to calm him. The other hand shook uncontrollably as I stared down at my blank phone screen. We needed to call Sutton. Let him know what was happening. I couldn't.
Instead, I sent him a quick text.
Luke and Turbo are down. Luke's awake. Clara’s coming. So is Doc. We’re out by the old tree on the hill.
I sent the message, then dropped my phone and closed my eyes, letting Luke's voice fill my head as he spoke to his wife.
“Hey, darlin’, I just needed to let you know I had a bit of an accident. No, I'm okay. I'm a little banged up, and Doc’s coming. No, you don't need to leave work. It's all right. The kids need you. How else are they gonna learn biology if you're not there?”
The pain in his voice was obvious, and I was positive that in the next thirty minutes, we'd have our entire family, including Mackenzie, with us.
“I love you, Mack. Yeah, I'll see you soon. Don't worry. Doc's gonna take good care of me.”
He hung up the phone, and I opened my eyes to see worry lining his features.
“How's Turbo?” he asked.
He'd had this horse for a long time. They were best friends. If Turbo didn't make it, I didn't know what was gonna happen to Luke. The goal is always to get your horse to a ripe old age where they can retire from ranching and grow fat and happy off the grass in the pastures. Not this. Never this.
“He's doing okay. He’s . . . he's tough. It might not be a break. It might be a sprain. You never know,” I said, trying to ease some of the tension.
But Luke shook his head, tears in his eyes. “No, a sprain wouldn't put him down like that. He's not even trying to get up. It's bad.”
The fucking fist in my gut kept digging in. “Clara is coming. She'll do what she can.”
Luke had to clear his throat before he could speak. “I know. She'll make him comfortable. She'll take good care of him.”
I didn't want my brother to lose his horse. A cowboy’s horse was an extension of himself. We spent more time with our animals than we did with people. We trusted each other.
Luke would never get over this. And it was my fault for egging him on and racing. I knew the ground was wet after a heavy thunderstorm. I shouldn't have been so irresponsible.
Luke's attention left Turbo and went to the approaching vehicles, along with Sutton on his horse. As I predicted, Mackenzie didn't stay at work. She jumped out of one of the ranch trucks almost before it came to a stop, our ranch foreman shaking his head as she raced up the hill. She dropped to her knees beside her husband.