Montana Cowboy Daddy by Jane Porter

Chapter Five

Erika wasn’t surprised when Billy showed up on her motel doorstep late in the day. He wasn’t smiling, either, and she thought it was the first time she’d ever seen him truly angry.

She’d replayed their argument at the fairgrounds over and over in her head, and thought Billy had been incredibly arrogant and rude, but she hadn’t been very diplomatic, either. She was about to apologize when he launched into a verbal firestorm, blaming her for his terrible day. Apparently, he hadn’t had that bad of a day in years. It was embarrassing and this was exactly why he needed time to mentally prepare for his events. He couldn’t afford to make stupid mistakes, and he couldn’t be worrying about Erika and Beck just before he climbed on the back of a bronc or bull.

She listened to him in silence until he abruptly stopped talking. But even after he’d finished, tension filled the room, a hum of hostility that she could feel all the way to her bones. “Is there anything else you’d like to say?” she asked, tone icy.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I understand that your time before you compete is sacred—”

“You’re deliberately provoking me.”

“No. I’m not. I don’t like fighting, and I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Good, because I grew up fist fighting with kids at school, as well as my brothers, but I don’t argue with women—”

“There. That. Why do you say it like ‘Argue with women’? You make it sound like we’re an entirely different species.”

“I was just raised not to be disrespectful, and I try not to be.”

She stepped outside the motel room, not wanting to subject Beck to their quarrel. “You have a very shallow idea of gallantry. I’d far rather a man be straight with me than hold my arm as I cross the street because he thinks I’m weak.”

His arms folded over his chest. “Now you’re twisting my words.”

“I just want us to have an honest conversation.”

“Let’s do it. Tell me what’s upset you.”

“I thought you’d said last Sunday that if I came along, and helped care for Beck, it would be a win-win, but so far, it’s just a win for you. There is no win for me.”

“Because I haven’t paid you yet?”

“No, and I don’t want to be paid for spending time with Beck. But I do want you to take your share of childcare so I can take care of my job, which is writing my dissertation. I have not had any time this week to do it. Or the week before, or the week before that.”

“You can’t write when he naps?”

“I maybe could if he had a set nap schedule, but it’s constantly changing and it’s not easy to sit down and focus on cue. I’d get a lot more done if I knew that he’d be taken care of for three hours, or four hours, and then maybe I wouldn’t worry about him, or worry about being interrupted, and I could actually get something accomplished.”

“I don’t know that I can give you four hours uninterrupted every day—”

“Why not?”

“The point is I can help, but you have to be flexible—”

“I have to be flexible? Billy, all I am is flexible! You’re the one that sets the schedule, a schedule we all have to revolve around.”

“I don’t want to do this. I’ve no desire to keep fighting. If you’re this unhappy, let’s not try to make this work.”

“Fine. I’m out. Good luck, Billy. You’ll need it.”

It didn’t take her long to pack, not when she just threw everything in a heap into the middle of her suitcase. It took even less time to gather her computer, her books and papers, shoving them into her big leather satchel. Erika stalked to the motel room door, pausing on the threshold to look at Beck, lying on his back on a blanket on the floor, playing with a soft fabric book. Her heart squeezed tight. She wanted to go over and kiss him goodbye but knew she couldn’t handle it. She’d fall apart. And she was not going to cry in front of Billy Dickhead Wyatt.

Instead, head high, she walked out the motel door, stepping pointedly around Billy who stood like an ice sculpture outside the room, and headed for the parking lot, where she put her suitcase in the trunk of her car, climbed behind the steering wheel, and drove away without a glance back.

Billy was now on his own.

*

The fight wasstupid. Billy hadn’t even seen it coming. One minute they were talking about logistics, and how to make things work, and the next minute, hard, brutal things were being said, and then Erika was grabbing her things and leaving.

And leaving Beck behind.

It was a shock, and her knee-jerk reaction made him livid, but in that moment she marched out to her car and drove away, Billy was glad.

He was glad to be rid of her, and rid of her opinions, and her endless pious, Miss Perfect judgment. He didn’t need her to make him feel worse. He was already trying to sort through all of his emotions, as it was a lot to take in over a few days. Learning that he was a dad. Learning that April had died in such a tragic accident. Learning that he’d have to overnight become a single parent to a child he’d had no relationship with.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it, either. It was just that it took some adjusting to. Mentally. He needed time to wrap his head around, well, everything.

And if she—this want-to-be therapist—couldn’t give him time to adjust, then she wasn’t cut out to be a therapist, never mind a friend.

Erika had had a month to come to terms with everything he’d only just learned this past week. She had a month. She’d given him what… days?

It wasn’t just unfair, it was unrealistic. And this was why he didn’t like therapists. He didn’t like the whole get analyzed and explore all your feelings and relive a painful childhood. Everyone had a painful childhood. Everyone got beat up. Everyone was hurt and disappointed. Dammit, people were people and they failed each other all the time.

Best way to deal with disappointment was to grow up and get some perspective. Life could be shitty, but it could also be beautiful and exciting and that was the challenge. Balance the bad with the good, and try to squeeze in more good. Make sure to find all the little happy bits so that you were aware of the blessings. And the joy. As rough and broken as they might be.

It was what his mom had done after his dad died, and it was what Granddad had taught them as well. Feelings could only take you so far. The best thing one could do was get dressed and straighten their damn shoulders and face the day.

And that was what Billy did, every single day.

And that was what he’d do now, with his son.

Billy entered the motel room, and sat down on the carpet next to his son who was now sucking on the spine of his fabric book while waving his legs in the air.

Billy tugged on the soft terry cloth fabric covering Beck’s toes, bunching the pale blue fabric. Cute little guy. But of course he was. He was a Wyatt.

*

Erika drove awayfrom the motel angry, so angry. She drove, silently cursing Billy, using every inappropriate swear word there was. She understood he had a career, she understood he needed to earn money. That was a given. Everyone had jobs and bills. And she wasn’t asking him to sacrifice the entire next year. She just wanted him to focus on Beck for a bit. Why was it all or nothing? Why couldn’t he be a competitive cowboy and a hands-on dad?

He could compete next month, or next fall, or heck, next year. Taking off a few weeks, or months, to spend time with his baby wouldn’t end his career, but it would be vital for Beck’s growth and emotional health.

Whether he liked it or not, Billy was a father, and he needed to bond with Beck. He needed to be present and available, to help Beck feel safe and loved. To create a deep attachment without fear of abandonment. But so far it seemed that Billy was more interested in putting on his chaps and hat than becoming a nurturing parent. So typical of a man, though. They always put themselves first, always saw the world exclusively through their masculine lens.

Maybe one hundred years ago that was fine, but women today were also working full-time and women shouldn’t have to shoulder domestic pressures alone. A man could cook and clean and do laundry and childcare just as well as a woman—

Erika glanced down at her speedometer and saw that she was flying down the highway, driving way too fast. She eased her foot off the accelerator, realizing she was shaking. This wasn’t okay. Just because she was upset didn’t mean she could lose all control. The fact that she lost her temper with Billy made her feel even worse. Erika prided herself on her self-control. She’d grown up determined not to be volatile like her mom, or detached and distant like her dad. And yet she’d just blown up, the way her mom used to, and shouted at Billy, just the way her mom once shouted at her dad.

Ugh.

Awful.

Erika felt awful.

At the next highway exit she pulled off and sat on the shoulder of the frontage road fighting hot tears.

She couldn’t believe she’d just driven off and left Beck, too. It was absurd. Immature. Hurtful. It was fine to have emotions—everyone had them—but it wasn’t okay to have a tantrum. And it was definitely not okay to walk out on Beck like she did. How childish could she be?

Blinking hard, she reached into her purse for a tissue and wiped her eyes, and beneath her eyes where mascara had made little black smudges, and then with gritted teeth shifted out of PARK, crossed the highway on the overpass, and headed back the direction she just came.

She had to return. She owed Billy an apology, and she owed Beck more than just walking out in a temper.

That was what her parents did. Lost control. Raged. Hurled accusations. Stormed off. Returned and retaliated with days of icy, punishing silence. Then repeated the cycle over and over again. There was a reason she didn’t want to be like either of them. It was a terrible way to live and a damaging way to interact with others.

She could do better. She would do better. But first, she needed to apologize. And maybe, just maybe, set healthier boundaries because she didn’t like who she was when she lost control.

Thankfully, Billy was at the motel when she returned. Erika was glad. She was also glad she’d turned around when she had because she hadn’t been gone long enough for Billy to pack up Beck and leave. No, she was just gone long enough to be mortified by her dramatic, childish tantrum and exit.

If Billy was surprised to see her at the motel door, he didn’t reveal it. He was kind enough not to say anything sarcastic, either. “Hello.”

As she stood on the doorstep her cheeks felt hot and her insides felt shivery and sick. “That was totally immature of me—”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“No, it is. I’m sorry. I hate what I just did.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. It was awful and I’m so embarrassed. I’m sorry.”

“I owe you an apology as well. I’ve not communicated very well with you and I can see how it’s made everything so much harder. I promise to work on it, and try to give you more time to work on your dissertation.”

Gratitude and relief washed through her. Thank goodness he was handling the fight better than she’d expected. Driving back, she’d worried things would only escalate when she returned. She was glad he wasn’t like her dad. No icy silence from Billy. “I understand in theory how to handle conflict, but in reality, I’m not very good at it. I think those of you with siblings probably have more experience with disagreements.”

He opened the door wider. “It’s okay. Honestly.”

She hesitated on the threshold. “I’ve gotten mad at you twice today.”

“With three brothers, I had people mad at me all day long. It’s not a biggie.”

“Why are you being so nice?”

“Because we’re human. People have emotions. Tempers. People get mad at each other, hurt each other’s feelings.”

And suddenly eyes that had been so dry filled with tears. Erika bit hard into her bottom lip, trying to stop the tears. “You should be the therapist, not me.”

He laughed, the sound warm, husky. “Never. I would hate listening to people’s problems all day. I’d tell them to buck up and just get it done.”

Erika couldn’t help smiling as she wiped her eyes dry. “You wouldn’t make as much money.”

He laughed again. “That’s alright. At least I’d have my sanity. Now come in. This is your room. Relax.”

She came in and crouched next to Beck who’d fallen asleep on his blanket on the floor. “I felt terrible leaving him.” She lightly stroked the top of his head. “Made me feel sick.”

“Then don’t leave him.”

She looked up at Billy. “I have to one day.”

Billy said nothing and she rose, trying to ignore the awful feeling weighting her chest. Everything was getting so complicated. She’d cared for Beck for five weeks now and it seemed inconceivable that soon he wouldn’t be in her life.

She could feel Billy’s gaze as she went to the edge of the bed and sat down. “If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m not as together as I look. Underneath all this—” she gestured to her head and then the rest of her “—I’m kind of a mess. I probably shouldn’t become a therapist, because I have no idea what a healthy marriage or a healthy family looks like. I certainly didn’t come from one.”

“No one is perfect, and no family is perfect.”

“Yours seems pretty perfect in comparison to mine. My family is, well, complicated.”

She pursed her lips, considered her words. “My mom’s side of the family is from Utah, a little town that no one has ever heard of. Almost everyone in the town belongs to the same church. They’re Fundamentalists and part of a tiny Mormon sect with about one hundred and fifty members. The sect isn’t recognized by the Church of Latter-day Saints, and wouldn’t have been since early twentieth century. It’s also very strict, and my mom and April’s mom, Aunt Sara, were raised by my grandparents who were involved in the church. My grandfather only did business with other members, and my mom and Aunt Sara were only allowed to socialize with other Fundamentalist girls. They didn’t wear modern clothing, either, and they weren’t allowed to date, not unless the boy expressed intention to court for marriage, and then they were closely chaperoned. Many, if not all of the young people, had arranged marriages, and my mom and Aunt Sara were expected to have one as well.”

“It didn’t happen, did it?”

She shook her head. “Aunt Sara got pregnant by a man outside the church. She ended up marrying him, but he was abusive, so she left him and moved to Las Vegas where she raised April with a series of different stepdads and bad boyfriends. My mom met my dad at the community college when she was just nineteen or twenty, and they got married and moved to California. My grandparents cut off both their daughters. I never knew my grandparents and never visited their town, either.”

“My family has struggled at different times.”

“But you love each other, and talk to each other, and listen. You also forgive each other when someone makes a mistake, don’t you?”

“So far.”

“Mom didn’t have that growing up, and she found it really difficult being a wife and mom.” Erika paused, remembering. “I think I’m worried that’s my future, too. I think that was the appeal of psychology. Maybe I could learn how to fix myself, while I learned how to help others.”

“You don’t need fixing.”

“I stormed off earlier. It wasn’t mature.”

“I don’t hold it against you.”

“I hold it against me. I should know better. I should be able to do better.”

He was silent a long moment. “I think you’re way too hard on yourself.”

Erika shook her head, uncomfortable, wishing they hadn’t even discussed any of her family, or her past. It never failed to make her feel bad. There had been so much conflict, and so much unhappiness. She hated remembering because it stirred up all the old feelings and all the old pain. “I don’t know that either of them particularly liked me.” She lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “I looked too much like my mom, but thought too much like my dad. I was a perfect blend of the two, which didn’t sit well with either of them.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I just wish I’d know then that I wasn’t responsible for their unhappiness. I thought it was my job to fix things, and I couldn’t.”

*

Billy suddenly understoodher so much better. He now understood why she’d studied psychology and counseling. He understood why she’d been so determined to reunite Beck with him. He also understood why she hadn’t believed she could manage raising Beck on her own.

She didn’t believe she could.

She didn’t think she had value.

She saw herself as inherently broken.

And it killed him because she was undoubtedly one of the kindest, strongest, most generous women he’d ever met. She asked for little for herself, and yet when she made a mistake, beat herself up endlessly. “What about you and April?” he asked. “Were you close growing up?”

“We used to see each other at Christmas and other holidays as Aunt Sara would try to join us at Christmas, but as we grew older, and Aunt Sara’s boyfriends grew worse, Dad didn’t want Sara over. Sara and April were always welcome, but not Sara’s boyfriends.”

“So Sara stopped coming.”

Erika nodded, her eyes, such an unusual mix of green and blue that they looked different every day, narrowed. “By the time we were teenagers, April and I had very little contact. I didn’t even know I was her emergency contact until they called me after her accident. I feel bad—”

“About everything,” he said, cutting her off. “I know.”

“That’s not fair,” she protested.

“Maybe not, but I have a feeling it’s pretty accurate.”

She lifted her head and looked at him, brow creasing. Thick golden hair framed her stunning face. He wondered if she had any idea of just how beautiful she was, inside and out. If she wasn’t Beck’s person, he’d find it awfully hard to keep his distance. But Beck didn’t just need him, he needed her, and Erika wasn’t the kind of woman you took to bed and then kicked out the next morning, and that was the only kind of woman he got involved with because just as she knew her limitations, he knew his. He wasn’t relationship material. He cared about people, but he didn’t love, not deeply love, not the way a woman wanted to be loved.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked huskily.

“Everyone should be this nice to you. You’re a really good person, Erika Baylor.”

Her mouth curved and then trembled. “Am I?”

He nodded, a peculiar pang in his chest. “One in a million.”

*

Erika went tobed and dreamed sweet dreams. Billy had made her feel good last night, something remarkable considering their fight earlier. After she lost her cool, she usually hated herself for a long time, loathing her lack of control, loathing her inability to handle difficult situations. But Billy had been kind to her and comforting, as well. He’d managed to help salvage an evening that could have been disastrous. She was grateful. However, his insights into her were a little too accurate, and a little too unsettling, but since he didn’t seem to mind that she was flawed, then she was going to let go of everything and just try to move forward.

She certainly moved forward in her dreams. She dreamed that she and Billy were together—not necessarily a couple—but they were hanging out and things were fun and there was no Beck. It was just them and they were driving through mountains and everything was bright and glazed with sunshine. She was laughing at something he said and then somehow they were parked and he was kissing her, really kissing her and she was on his lap and she’d never been kissed like that before, where everything felt so good, and so warm, and so perfect.

She woke up still warm, and happy, feeling relaxed, as well as loved.

And then she realized she was in the dark motel room and that warm glowing buoyant feeling was from a dream. There was no wonderful drive through mountains, no gilded light, no wind in her hair, no kiss that made her feel like she was made of glitter and sunshine.

Her eyes burned and she pressed the pillow over her face, overwhelmed by a disappointment she didn’t understand.

*

Two hours later,Erika was changing Beck’s diaper when Billy texted.

“I’ll have a ticket for you atWILLCALLif you want to come today. I understand if you don’t. Either way, let’s go out to eat tonight. Craving a good steak.”

The wobbly sensation returned to her insides, and she felt a little glimmer of the sun she’d felt in her dream. It wasn’t a date tonight but it did sound fun to go out and have a meal somewhere besides her motel room.

She texted back an answer. “Beck and I will be in the stands cheering for you. Good luck!”

It was different arriving at the rodeo fairgrounds today. She felt as if she belonged there, and today, all the fans looked friendly and almost familiar. Erika found herself wishing she had a cowboy hat to wear, just so she could be part of the fun. But Beck’s dad would be competing, and so was his uncle. Despite Billy’s bad day yesterday, he’d still made it into the finals of a couple of his events, and Erika headed for her seat, determined to keep her distance from Billy today so he could concentrate and prepare for his first event.

Seated, she listened to the crowd chatter around her. Everyone was in a good mood. The weather was cooperating with sun and little wind. Erika had forgotten the baby carrier, so she just sat Beck on her lap, and he was happily eating his fist.

Yesterday she’d missed the opening ceremonies but today she saw it all, and then the first event was announced and Erika’s pulse drummed, aware that Tommy would be riding soon. Billy had told her last night that Tommy was having a great weekend, having placed in the finals in every single event he’d entered. She was excited that she’d have two Wyatts to cheer on today, and Tommy did have an excellent time in his first event. The other cowboys, though, didn’t look so lucky. Most were bucked off right and left, few making the eight second buzzer. The challenging rides continued through the early afternoon. It didn’t seem to matter if it was a horse or bull, but the rodeo clown and announcers made it all entertaining, and Erika was surprised she was enjoying herself so much.

Then finally it was Billy’s turn, and he came flying out of the narrow chute on the big chestnut horse, the bronc jumped and bucked, hind legs flying. It was simultaneously spectacular and thrilling as the horse and Billy went up, down, the horse kicking up back legs so high, he went down—all the way to the ground, the horse rolling over on Billy, with Billy still tangled in one stirrup. The crowd gasped and surged to their feet and Erika was on her feet, too.

As if in slow motion, she saw the bronc’s hooves connect with Billy, as they both tried to escape each other. Then the horse was free, still bucking and kicking. Billy struggled to get to his feet but crumpled back to the ground, dirt clouding around him. That was when the crowd went silent, and everyone stood in silence as medics ran out.

Gradually, everyone around her began sitting back down, and Erika slowly sat, too, heart in her throat. Seeing Billy on the ground sent panic through her.

Beck needed his dad.

Sheneeded Beck’s dad.

Billy had to be okay.

Tommy was out there in the arena now, too, and Tommy and one of the medics assisted Billy to his feet, but Billy couldn’t straighten. He stood hunched, his torso bent, left arm hanging limply. He lifted his right hand to the crowd in an attempt to wave, as if reassuring the fans he was fine, but he would have fallen if it weren’t for Tommy holding him up.

Billy was half carried, half dragged from the ring, disappearing behind the tall gates that shut behind him, blocking the view.

The crowd was still quiet and the announcers in the high box began their cheerful chatter again, smoothing over the frightening scene, talking about what a cowboy Billy Wyatt was, that all of the Wyatts were true cowboys, and that the announcer had had the privilege of knowing Billy’s father, JC Wyatt, a legend in his time.

Erika tuned out the announcer and tried to think what she should do. Beck made a little peeping sound and she nodded. Beck was right. Find Billy. That was what she needed to do. With trembling hands, she gathered their things, shifted Beck to the other arm, and made her way through the stands, past the snack and food stands, to the pens where livestock waited. She knew now where the cowboys warmed up, and she went there, slipping between cowboys, heading toward an open ambulance that had someone on the gurney in back. She spotted Tommy then, standing near the ambulance talking to someone in a blue chambray shirt with a stethoscope around his neck. Tommy looked grim, nodding once, and then his head turned and his gaze met hers. He said something to the man and then walked toward her.

“He’s going to be okay,” Tommy said, without preamble. “They’re taking him to the hospital in town, and it’s serious, but doc doesn’t think it’s life-threatening. They’re leaving now, though, and they’ll call me later with updates.”

She looked up into his face, trying to read his expression. “You’re not going?”

“No.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Compete.”

She didn’t understand. The brothers were close, almost inseparable. “You’re still going to ride, even with Billy hurt?”

“He’s going to be in surgery. It will be hours. There’s nothing I can do until later.” Tommy must have seen her confusion, because he added, “This is our agreement. This is what we do. If it’s life-threatening, the other goes. If it’s just some broken bones, punctured lung—”

“Punctured lung?”

“We carry on. It’s the only way competing makes sense. Otherwise, we’d never get any wins, or money, under our belt.”

“Should I go to the hospital?”

Tommy glanced from her down to Beck, who was chewing his hand. “And do what?” he asked, tone kind. “You’re going to sit around all day, in a germ-filled waiting room. It will be hours before Billy’s out of surgery. Then he’d be in recovery, and they’ll be monitoring him as he wakes up. Might as well stay here, in the sunshine, soaking up vitamin D, and then when I’m done, I’ll drive you over. We’ll go together. I promise that that’s what Billy would want, too.”

It made sense, in a horrible sort of way. “Does this happen often?” she asked, heartsick, because to be honest, it hadn’t crossed her mind that they’d get hurt very often. They were both so successful that it seemed as if they had a pretty good handle on how competition worked.

“Often enough we have the drill down. Going to the hospital is never cheap, either. No one likes to get hurt. That’s not why we ride and rope. We’re trying to earn money, not spend it.”

“Are you sure I shouldn’t—”

He nodded. “I’m sure. And I promise we will go straight away when I’m done. I’ll be finished long before Billy is out of recovery.”

Erika returned to the stands but her heart wasn’t in it anymore. The afternoon passed slowly, and what had been so exciting earlier, now filled her with dread. It didn’t help that all she could think about was Billy, and wondering about his surgery and how he was doing.

It was late when Tommy found her in the stands. “Ready?” he asked.

She nodded, more than ready. Tommy took Beck from her and they walked out of the rodeo grounds together. “Should we take your car since it has the car seat already in it?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll drive, though,” he said. “I know Boise probably better than you.”

“I know the motel, and the fairgrounds, and that’s it.”

He flashed her a smile. “Sounds like you need to get out more.”

“Tell that to your brother.”

“I will.”

She unlocked the car as they approached it, and then handed him the keys. “Have you heard from the hospital?”

He nodded as he opened the door for her, so that she could buckle Beck in. “He’s awake, grouchy as a bear.”

“Surgery went well?” she asked, stepping back.

He closed the door and then opened her door. “Seems so.”

Erika slid into the passenger seat and pulled the seat belt across her. “Are you sure this doesn’t happen often?”

Tommy didn’t answer until he was behind the steering wheel and typing the hospital’s address into his phone. “We’ve been lucky.” He paused. “For the most part.”

“It was terrible to watch.”

“The majority of injuries occur during rough stock events.”

“Rough stock?”

“Bull riding, bareback riding, and saddle bronc riding.” Tommy shifted into gear, and followed the GPS directions which indicated that it would take them about fifteen minutes to get across town. Neither of them said much on the way, and it wasn’t until Tommy had found a spot in the parking lot that she asked him if he was worried about Billy. “You have to be a little bit concerned?”

Tommy shrugged as he stepped out of the car. “Every injury makes it a little harder to stay in the game, so there’s that.”

She shouldered Beck and fell into step with Tommy’s long strides. “And?”

“Billy’s going to be bummed. He was having a good year.”

“He’s done for the year?”

“I didn’t say that. But no one wants to miss a week, much less a month or two, and he’s going to miss a fair amount of time. Just how long is yet to be seen.”

*

The doctors spoketo Tommy, not her, which made sense as she wasn’t family, but she stood off by the tan vinyl chairs, gently bouncing Beck to keep him asleep as she strained to hear what the surgeon was telling Billy’s brother. Tommy looked grave, but not horrified or distraught—not that the Wyatt brothers would ever look distraught—so the update couldn’t have been a complete shock to Tommy.

Tommy joined her a few minutes later and filled her in quickly, so quickly that she struggled to process it all. Clavicle fracture, scapula fracture, broken ribs, punctured lungs. Surgery repaired the broken bones, displacement, and lungs. Billy was out of recovery in a room now, but still heavily sedated since he’d done some thrashing about when he first woke up and so he was sleeping now, which the doctor thought was a good thing.

Erika’s brow creased as Tommy spoke, her frown deepening as he continued through the litany of injuries. “He’ll recover, right?”

“Oh, yeah. He’ll be back in the saddle late summer.”

Her jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

“Knowing my brother, he’ll want to be competing sooner. It just depends on his rehab.”

“Where will he go for rehab?”

“Oh, he won’t. He’ll just do it at home. Billy’s been through this before. We all have. Even though a physical therapist is recommended, we’d rather do the exercises on our own.”

“So, he’s going back to your ranch.”

“No, he’ll want to go to his place in Utah. Pulling the trailer, it’s about eight and a half hours from here.”

Erika stared at him, perplexed. “He must be close to Las Vegas?”

“His place is closer to Bryce. I’m assuming that’s where he’d want to go, but I guess we’ll need to see what he’s thinking when he wakes up.” Tommy glanced at his watch. “Why don’t I drive you to your hotel so you and Beck can have dinner and relax? I’ll worry about Billy.”

She hesitated. “I feel bad that I’m not doing anything.”

“But what can you do?”

She had no answer for that.