Page 55 of Ride the Sky

Dr. Joy looks down at me. “The symptoms you describe just before your fall—dizziness, blurred vision—you had a migraine.”

Davis pushes off the wall, crossing his arms. “It was too soon for you to ride.”

I glare at him and his asshole words. “I already hate almost all men. Don’t make me add you to the list, Davis.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Wyatt snarls. “You ain’t helpin’, D.”

“I’ve been fine at El Toro,” I insist to the entire room. “I haven’t had a migraine in…in almost a year. My hand wouldn’t just slip on the rope.” Desperately, I look at Wyatt. “You believe me, don’t you? I had that bull.”

“Yeah.” His eyes are sad. “I believe you.”

I sit there, gasping for air, thinking it can’t get worse, when Dr. Joy looks at Wyatt. “I’ll let you and your wife talk.”

Fuck.

I wait for the doctor to exit, and then I turn to Wyatt and glare. “Wife?”

Wyatt runs his free hand through his hair then down his jaw. “I told them,” he says. He doesn’t look apologetic, the bastard.

Dakota’s lips thin. “I’m upset you didn’t tell anyone, but considering the circumstances, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.”

The brick wall that is Davis’s body, the crossed arms and scowl he keeps giving Wyatt, tell me he’s pissed.

I push myself up, wanting to say something to intercept their pissy macho stare-down. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, it was a mistake.”

Wyatt flinches.

Dakota arches a brow. “I am curious. What did you plan to do? Go your entire life without anyone knowing?”

“No one needed to know.” I look up at Wyatt, at the way he has my hand cradled to his chest. “I figured we’d just play along until one of us wanted a divorce.”

Wyatt’s face darkens, like he hates my words. Like I’ve just stuck a blade somewhere soft.

But why would he be upset? Marriage was never for either of us.

Davis snorts softly. “What about your father?”

“What about him?” I ask casually, even as regret curdles my stomach. Because Stede, a by-the-book, old school cowboy, will be furious.

“That’s enough,” Wyatt barks at Davis. “She doesn’t need this right now.”

At the hard, protective tone in his voice, warmth spreads through me.

A knock rattles the hospital room door. “Hey,” Reese says, her eyes filling the instant she sees me. “Can we say hi?”

Wyatt looks unhappy, but he nods and lets loose of my hand.

I swallow as our friends and family crowd the room. God. The pity. The sad looks. I can barely stand it.

I’m engulfed in soft hugs and perfume. Ruby. Reese.

“We were so worried,” Ruby whispers, setting no less than four bouquets of flowers on the windowsill.

Charlie leans down to kiss my brow. “Sure gave us a scare,” he gruffs.

Ford squeezes my hand. “Gotta throw a couple prayers up to the man upstairs, cowgirl.”

I flinch at the nickname. I don’t feel like a cowgirl one bit. I feel like an undeserving imposter who can’t even giddy-up her way out of this damn hospital bed.

---