Chapter Twenty-Two
Eight weeks later…
Colby McKay sat on the front porch of his parents’ house with his leg propped on a folding chair and scowled at the darkening sky. F*cking clouds. If it was gonna be cloudy, at least the damn things should be rain clouds. They needed the moisture in a bad way.
A dry autumn breeze drifted through the eaves, rattling the wind chimes. He’d been home for two months. A doctor ordered bed rest after his leg had been busted up like a cheap 2X4, and his lung had seeped air like a leaky balloon.
As glad as he was not to be pissing in a colostomy bag or wheeling himself around in a chair for the rest of his life, it stung his pride that his family was forced to take care of him at the family homestead for the time being. For six long goddamn months.
Oh, they didn’t seem to mind. His mom was happy to have him home in any capacity, happier yet he was done with life on the road. He was still shuffling around on crutches with a brace on his leg like a gimped-up old man, but at least he wasn’t flat on his back.
Still, there was something mortifying about his mom or his sister doing his physical therapy exercises with him every damn day. That little sadist Keely liked inflicting pain on him. He’d warned her paybacks were a bitch and he’d invited Amy Jo over to keep him company on occasion.
But he suspected the only reason Amy Jo showed up was on the hope she’d run into his brother Cord.
Colby felt useless. He couldn’t stay by himself in his beloved log cabin on the other side of the canyon. His mother claimed she didn’t trust him 238
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not to do too much, too soon. Helping Colton with chores was out, too.
His dad had told him there’d be plenty of chores waiting for him when he’d healed up properly. Next spring. Even Cord gave him pitying looks, and Cord’s life was even more f*cked up than his.
But mostly Colby sat around wondering what the hell he was gonna do now that his rodeo career was history. Sure, he’d known at the end of this season he’d have to scale back and compete locally only on weekends. So it’d come as a complete shock when the surgeons warned him if he started riding bulls or broncs again, he could end up in a wheelchair permanently.
Not a chance he was willing to take.
For the millionth time Colby’s thoughts turned to Channing. He knew that wasn’t why she’d bailed—because he was no longer a rodeo cowboy, now that injury had forced him into being just an ordinary Wyoming rancher. He doubted she’d skipped back to her old life after she’d had her sexual adventure of traveling the rodeo circuit with a trio of cowboys.
Or that she’d forgotten about him as she was on the Eastern seaboard teaching readin’, writin’ and ’rithmetic.
Probably they called it something else at that fancy-pants school where she was hiding away.
No doubt Channing was hiding. From him. From herself. From what she’d said to him in the hospital when she didn’t know he could hear her. Colby didn’t have any idea what to do about fixing things. Hell, he couldn’t do anything about it until he was a whole man again.
Lord. He missed her. After one glorious week Channing meant everything to him. During the last night he’d spent making love to her, showing her how he felt, he knew she’d never just waltz away.
I’ll be waiting.
But where? It seemed as if Channing Kinkaid had dropped off the face of the earth.
A couple of weeks back after he’d gotten through the worst of the pain, he’d taken a chance and called her cell phone only to discover it’d www.samhainpublishing.com 239
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been disconnected. That left him adrift because he didn’t know her parents’ names. He didn’t know where she lived.
But he did know he loved her.
The wind blew the scent of sage and dirt. For a second, he thought he caught a whiff of Channing’s perfume. Wishful thinking. There weren’t a lot of wildflowers in Wyoming in the autumn.
He sighed. Maybe he’d nap. At least when he was asleep he didn’t think about this shit. And he could dream about her wrapped up in his arms in the middle of his king-sized bed back at his place. Just the two of them alone for a change. No traveling partners. No interruptions.
The front door opened and his mother hustled out with his nephew Ky cocked on her hip. She pitched Colby the portable phone. “We’re out of milk and diapers. I’m running to the store. Do you need anything while I’m in town?”
Colby shook his head. He’d drifted into that dreamy state right before sleep when the phone rang. He snapped, “Hello?”
“Colby McKay, you sound like a bear with a sore paw. How you doing?”
He relaxed. “Getting better every day, Gemma. And you?”
“I can’t complain. Hey, is your dad around?”
“No. He and Cord and Colton are sortin’ cows with the cattle broker.
Why? What’d you need?”
“Hang on.” A rustling sound crackled on the line as she moved the receiver on her end. “No, Channing, those don’t go there. Put ‘em in the sun porch.”
Colby froze. Then his heart raced. “Gemma? What the devil is goin’
on?”
“Sorry ‘bout that. What did you say?”
“Did you say Channing is there? At your ranch?”
“Well—”
“My Channing is at your ranch?”
“Yeah.”
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“Since when?”
“Awhile.”
Colby practically growled. “How long has she been there?”
“She’s been here almost six weeks. Where’ve you been?”
“Right here! Why in the hell didn’t she tell me? Why didn’t you tell me, Gemma?”
“Not my place.”
“Goddammit. I don’t know whether to take a horsewhip after you or her.”
“I don’t like the direction this conversation has taken, Colby McKay.” He breathed deep, trying to calm himself. “Sorry. It’s just…I’ve spent the last month tryin’ to find out where she is!”
“So now you know. My question is: What are you gonna do about it?” Gemma hung up.
A shaft of sunshine spilled across the porch railing. Colby glanced at the sky. The gray clouds had cleared out, revealing a radiant blue horizon.
A sign that he’d finally get a chance to clear up some of the issues that’d been clouding his mind?
He grabbed his crutches and his keys and he was gone.
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