Page 2 of Stormy Ride

Moving slower than a wounded sloth, Brenda made her way across the room to the closet and pulled out a brown paper bag with Billy’s name and room number on it. “Your clothes are in this bag.”

She was making her way back to the bed when the doctor came rushing in with Billy’s mother.

Doctor Kramer smiled and looked down at him. “You’re awake, Billy. Wonderful progress.”

“Is it? How long have I been here at the hospital?”

“Since early yesterday morning. That’s when you had your accident.”

“Who found me?”

“Your father found you,” said Mrs. Johnson. “Almost finished him, son. You should be more careful of his heart condition.”

“Yeah, I’ll consider Dad’s heart the next time I try to chop my fuckin leg off.”

“No need for vulgarity, Billy.” His mother waggled a finger at him. “Cursing the moon blue won’t help with your troubles.”

“Makes me feel better though.”

The doctor shooed everyone out of the room for a private look at Billy’s leg and they weren’t allowed back in until the bandages were changed.

“What’s the verdict, Doc?” asked Billy. “Were you able to fix the damage?”

No smile on the doctor’s face. “Pinned the tibia together, Billy. You’re a strong man and you smashed that bone a good one. It will be a while before it will hold your weight.”

“Damn it, Doc. I can’t leave the county with no law enforcement.”

When that was all over, Billy tried again to make Brenda call Travis. This time, she actually made the call.

Pecan Valley. Texas.

Having spent the past five months in treatment as an outpatient at the VA hospital in Austin, I was finally getting around to cleaning up the ragged ends of my life.

I was finished with the farm I’d rented in the fall in the depths of one of the worst PTSD episodes ever and I’d finally cleaned up the place for the new renters.

Next on the list was my ranch in Montana that I’d run off and left when the episode was coming on and I was losing my grip on reality.

Billy couldn’t carry the payments and he’d let me know he’d soon be moving to a smaller place in Coyote Creek where he could manage on his sheriff’s salary.

It seemed like I’d left tattered pieces of myself from north to south and now that my head had been straightened out with medication and the help of Doctor Alderson, I had to clean up my own mess.

I whistled for the dogs and stood holding the back door of the truck open for them when my cell started ringing on the passenger seat.

I yanked open the door to grab it and answered a number I didn’t recognize. “Travis here.”

“Hey, Travis, this is Brenda, Billy’s girlfriend.”

“Hi, Brenda. Is Billy okay?”

“No. He’s not okay. He’s hurt bad and he needs you. Can you come to Montana right away?”

“I can leave today if it’s an emergency.”

“Definitely an emergency, Travis. You have to come and help Billy.”

“Okay. Tell Billy I’m coming.”

“Good. He’s in a hospital bed, Travis. He needs you bad.”

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