Page 17 of Lucky Cowboy

He jerked up off his mattress, scrambling to reach his cell on the nearby table. But, as par for the course, the device then slipped away from his hand and clattered onto his hardwood floor. Still half asleep, Mark stepped onto that floor with a slight hiss as his bare feet made contact—the fact that the surface was this cold inJuneirritated him—then dropped to all fours to retrieve the silly thing, which had somehow landed underneath his bed.

“Yeah,” he half barked into the receiver, annoyed by the whole experience. But his annoyance vanished the second he heard whose voice was on the line.

“Mark, I’m so sorry to disturb you like this, but I need your help,” Val said, sounding frantic, and he went from bleary-eyed to alert in less than a second.

“No, that’s fine. What’s wrong?”

“It’s my dad. He’s had a heart attack,” she said. “I called 911, and they rushed him to the hospital there in Billings. But I’m in San Antonio right now. It’ll take me hours and hours to drive it. Even if I can find a flight, I’m so far away.”

“I’ll go.”

Mark glanced from his upstairs window down to where his patrol car had been parked in the driveway grateful it wasn’t winter or he would’ve had to scrape snow before roaring out of there.

“I’m losing my mindthen not knowing what the outcome is. If something happens to him, and I’m not there, I’ll never forgive myself…” Her sentence ended on a sob, and even though Mark was an old pro when it came to dealing with people who’d been thrown into a panic, hearing Val react this way shattered his heart.

“I’m leaving now. Don’t worry. I’m on my way, and I’ll update you as soon as I know anything, okay?”

“O-kay…” Her voice broke in the middle of the word. The crackling sound of static came through next—or maybe she’d simply dropped her phone against the sofa—then her muffled, “They have a seat on that flight? Book it, Mitz.” And then she disconnected.

Scrambling into his boots, jeans, and snap shirt, he practically sprinted out the door. He just so happened to be off that day—one thing he had to be grateful for—so he didn’t so much as bat an eye as he kicked down on his accelerator so hard that gravel from his driveway hit his wheel well. He’d nearly spun out, so he made himself take a breath.

No sense scaring Val more by getting into an accident on the way.

CHAPTEREIGHT

Val calledthe hospital to learn that her father had already been taken into surgery. On the one hand, she was so relieved that he remained alive that her face felt numb. On the other, though, she wasn’t there. Guilt jettisoned through her system like poison. Despite all her attempts to stay close enough to help should her dad need her, she’d failed.

She’d totally failed. And now that her plane had taken off, she couldn’t even contact anyone.

Mitzi had offered to go with her, but the excess cost of another ticket kept Val from saying yes. It’d been the most fiscally responsible decision—one she as her own manager felt it necessary to make—but she would give a lot to not be so alone right now. Val clutched onto her seatbelt so hard her knuckles went white as she sat there in her aisle seat next to people who were chatting or reading or sleeping like it was any other day.

For them, it probably was any other ordinary day. But for her… Everything hinged on this plane’s ability to get her to Billings before anything terrible occurred with her dad. But no, that wasn’t true, either. Something terrible had already happened while she was away from home, and she didn’t know what to do… And…

Calm down, she ordered herself.

She didn’t even need to have her seatbelt on anymore since the light above her head had gone out. Yet she didn’t release the latch. She felt too wound up to move.

Even aboard this plane, the trip would take over six hours, and that was after the additional ninety minutes she’d had to wait at the airport and on the tarmac. Then, she’d have to navigate through the airport at Billings, something she’d only ever done with either Biggs or… Or her dad.

Val had patted herself on the back for going off on her lonesome and owning her adulthood a few months back. But now, she didn’t know if she was cut out for this after all. She might be thirty, but all the missteps she’d made in her twenties felt like they were catching up with her. If only she’d been smarter. Wiser. If only she’d seen this coming and refused to do any rodeos outside Montana.

Sure, they needed the funds her riding would bring. Her little one-woman show provided her dad with their sole support system. But still.

Her brain continued to race like this, driving her right up the wall. Some small part of her realized that all this circular thinking would do her no good, but she couldn’t seem to stop. No matter what she did, it seemed to be wrong, and she didn’t know how to change that.

“Would you like some water, sweetie? Looks like you might need some.” The voice came from the male flight attendant standing above her. His coloring, blond hair and light blue eyes, might have reminded her of Biggs if everything else about the man reminded her of anyone but. Especially when he knelt down so he could be on eye level with her, holding out a cup of ice water. “Not a great flyer?”

She didn’t have the wherewithal to explain the complicated scenario she found herself in, so she chose to nod mutely instead, somehow managing to take the cup from him.

“Some passengers are. You know what usually helps? Music. Would you like me to get you some headphones? You can listen to whatever you want.”

He had a such a compassionate energy about him that anyone could detect it. “Th-thank you.” She’d just stammered her response. Maybe because her tongue seemed to stuck to the roof of her mouth from dryness. She took a sip of her water, and it helped. “That’d be nice.”

Not only did he bring her the aforementioned headphones, he handed over a fresh smelling pillow and blanket, too. She didn’t know why, but it made tears prick her eyes. She’d already cried a virtual river after hearing the news about her dad’s heart attack, so she didn’t think she had any moisture left.

Evidently, she was wrong about that, as well.

“If you can rest, that often makes travel easier,” the flight attendant advised, his voice soft. While she knew he had the best of intentions, she sincerely doubted she could drift off under these circumstances. And that was despite not sleeping at all last night.

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