Firefly Night

CHAPTER 10

 |LEMON ODELL| 

"Colt," I urge for what felt like the hundredth time in the last few hours, "you need to get some rest. Close your eyes and try to relax. Prop you're foot up. Take your meds. Sleep."

I wince, aware that I probably sound like an over baring mother nagging on her child. Was I turning into Mama at such a young age? She had been just a few years younger than me when she had met Daddy and had Stella.

I cringed inwardly, knowing I sounded more like an overbearing mother than anything else. Was I turning into Mama? She'd been just a few years younger than me when she met Daddy and had Stella. I shook my head, trying to push away the thought. Colt grumbled, stumbling across the gravel lot toward the barn in that ridiculous orthopedic boot. As if the pink cast on his arm wasn't enough of a blow to his pride, now he had this. He told me he had been joking about the pink cast.

No one should listen to a man hopped up on pain meds and dealing with a possible concussion. His dislocated and relocated shoulder was immobilized in a sling, and he looked nothing like the man who had been riding that bull just days ago. Hell, he barely resembled the man I'd met four months back. Now, he seemed worn out, too tired to resist the offer of living out of my loft until he got back on his feet. Even that small concession had been a struggle for him, as he kept insisting he'd still work on the ranch.

"One hour, honey," he groaned. I took his hand without thinking, guiding him up the stairs to the loft. I pushed the door open and shooed away the cats lounging in the entryway. They grumbled in protest but slinked back down the stairs. "That's all I need. Then I'll be back to usual."

I glanced down at the pink cast, my name scrawled in black Sharpie with a little smiley face beside it. A small smile tugged at my lips. "I don't doubt it for a moment, Colt."

While Colt was in the hospital, Caleb—one of his friends—had stopped by. I'd seen Caleb around at the rodeo before, always blending into the crowd of bull riders at the gate. But this was the first time we'd actually talked. Before Colt, I'd kept my distance from the other bull riders, steering clear of them like the plague. But now, maybe because of the situation, I found myself more open to engaging with them, stepping into a world I had always kept at arm's length.

"Ma'am," Caleb had said, tipping his hat at me with a cheeky grin as he led Red, Colt's horse, out of the trailer.

"You can call me Lemon," I replied, watching as Caleb studied me for a moment, his eyes taking me in before his smile widened.

And that had been it.

As we unloaded Red and got him settled in the field with Fiets, Caleb had gone on and on about the rodeo, asking me a lot of questions about Tex, which took me by surprise. But it was a welcome surprise, and I found myself sharing stories about the early days when I'd gone to my daddy's rodeos. I told him about my first run, and he told me about his.

"You know," he said, leaning against his truck door, "let Colt know that nationals isn't all that. Nothing wrong with staying in town a little longer."

I knew what he was getting at, but I did my best to brush it off. Mama had told me long ago that not all bull riders were like Daddy, and I'd listened to her advice instead of learning it the hard way.

Now, as I watched Colt ease himself into the loft, I couldn't help but wonder if Mama had been right all along. Maybe Colt was different, or maybe I was just fooling myself. But either way, I wasn't about to let him push himself too hard, not while he was under my roof.

"Get some rest," I said softly, placing a blanket on the edge of the bed. "You'll need your strength if you're planning on proving Caleb wrong."

Colt smirked, the weariness in his eyes giving way to something else—something more familiar. "Wouldn't dream of letting him get the last word."