“This isn’t about Mom. Or what she’d want. Though I’d like to think she’d want her daughter to be strong enough to stand on her own two feet.”
“She’d want you to help me. That’s what she’d want.” Her father blew out a snort of air like a winded horse. “You’ll regret this, Libby. Walking out on your father during his time of need.” He grabbed his keys off the counter and brushed past her, his jaw set, his eyes narrowed.
The slam of the door let her know he was gone. She stood for a long time in the middle of the kitchen, not moving. Just standing. Waiting, but for what she didn’t know. Maybe for it to sink in that she’d finally stood up to him, for what it was worth.
Now she had to get a job and find her own place to make good on standing on her own two feet.
First, though, she’d visit Chance and make sure he was all right.
*
Libby walked in on a pretty, young nurse checking Chance’s blood pressure. By the grin on both their faces, she’d interrupted something.
Chance turned to her, his smile faltering just a bit. She supposed she should have expected a less-than-exuberant greeting given the way they’d left things before he got hurt. But seeing him yesterday, flat on his back and in pain, had crystallized what she needed to do. You didn’t get many opportunities to make amends.
“Libby?”
She nodded at him as she waited for the nurse to finish up. Chance looked better. Color was back in his cheeks, and there was a sparkle in his eyes, unless that was due to the nurse. His dark hair was clean and combed, one lock tumbling over his forehead, making him look like he’d just had a roll in the hay. Even a hospital gown didn’t diminish his appeal.
Libby glanced around the sparse room. There was an older man in the bed next to Chance. A woman who looked like she could be the man’s wife sat at his bedside, talking to him in a low voice as if to comfort him. Libby looked at the couple with something akin to envy. It was important to have someone you could count on when the sea of life turned rough.
The nurse patted Chance’s arm and vowed to be back within the hour. Libby settled into the chair at his bedside.
“Not so bad when you’ve got a pretty nurse to care for you, huh?” she said, trying to sound light and casual.
“I can think of easier ways to meet women. What are you doing here, Libby?”
“How’s the pain?” she asked, ignoring his question.
He shrugged. “Just a dull ache right now.” He nodded toward the tubes in his arm. “I’m on some sort of medication. They’ll be easing me off of it gradually. For now though, I’m not feeling all that bad.”
There was a sloppy smile on his face.
He was high, like drunk-high. Too bad his hooded, half-closed lids and cocky grin reminded her of a younger Chance after they’d made love.
“Want to test how good I’m feeling?”
Libby felt the flush clear to her toes. Strange how this so very relaxed Chance reminded her much more of the boy she’d fallen in love with than the angry man who had told her they shouldn’t see each other again.
“I think not, Chance Cochran. You need to lay still and heal.”
He reached for her, and she felt compelled to place her hand in his warm one. She could almost hear the sizzle from the electricity that jolted through her. His calloused fingers closed around her hand, and he stared at her with questions in his eyes. “You look too good to ignore.”
His low, silky voice and the words he said caused her pulse to do a happy dance. It was the drugs talking, she reminded herself. For a moment, however, she was going to let herself pretend.
“I step out for one second and here you are flirting with a woman. And not just any woman.” It was Lonnie’s voice. Libby turned around as the bull rider entered the room. He had on typical cowboy gear of weathered jeans, faded plaid shirt, and battered boots. He carried a cup of coffee. Chance, however, still held on to her hand as if he didn’t want to let it go. The sensation was warm and wonderful, and she wasn’t about to give it up if she didn’t have to.
“Lonnie, my man. Look at the beautiful woman who found me,” Chance called out.
Even the other couple in the room chuckled.
“Hi, Libby. He’s looking better today, isn’t he?” Lonnie said as he pulled up another chair and sat down. “He’s not feeling much right now,” he added as if he was warning her not to take seriously anything Chance may say.
“I’ll be out of here in no time.” Chance leaned back on the pillows and closed his eyes, dropping her hand. She immediately felt the loss.
“Did the doctor say how long?” she asked. She was hoping the hospital would keep Chance for a while. Not just because she wanted to check on him. But someone as stubborn as Chance would need the oversight of doctors and nurses to keep him in bed. Left to his own devices, he’d probably be up on a bronc next week.