Page 76 of Ride the Sky

“Here.” Wyatt stands from his chair, grabs something from the counter, then sits back down. “You need to take these with food.” He sets my medication on the table.

Giving him an exasperated look, I snap a pain pill in half. Then I gulp it down with my coffee.

Wyatt’s annoyed sigh only steels my fight. “You don’t have to be tough, you know.”

“I’m not being tough, I’m being smart.” I’ve known too many cowboys who’ve gotten busted up only to heal but not be able to ride because of a nasty addiction to pain pills.

I set down my coffee. “I don’t want to be stuck on these things when I start riding again.”

The light in his eyes dims. “Fallon.”

I flinch. At the serious look. At the pain behind that single word.

I jab my fork at him. “Don’t say what I think you’re gonna say, asshole.”

His lips thin. But he stays quiet.

Appetite gone, I set down my fork.

The next thing I know, Wyatt’s chair scrapes back and his big hands are on my face.

Startled, I yelp. “Oh my god, what are you doing?”

“Checking you for fever.” His callused palm cups my jaw, his long fingers sweeping over my brow. “The doctor said without a spleen you’re more susceptible to fevers.”

I shake my head, my pulse speeding at the closeness. “Wyatt, I could get a fever any day for the rest of my life. You planning to attach yourself to my side like a leech?”

The worry in his eyes is amusing, if not sweet. “I could.”

“Stop. Just stop.” I’m annoyed now. At him hovering. At the confusing warm feeling in my stomach. I stand. “Where are my boots?”

“I already fed the horses,” Wyatt says, reading my thoughts. “You shouldn’t be lifting anything anyways.”

I prop my hands on my hips. “Well, I still want to go to the barn.”

I’m not letting everything go. I need some semblance of normalcy to stay sane. Because when I think about losing it all…I can barely breathe.

He eases closer. “You have PT at noon.”

I arch a brow. “Don’t you have a job?”

“I’ll do it.”

“When?”

“After PT. I pushed my class to the afternoon. I’ll drop you back here after—”

An idea sparks. “I’m going with you.”

“Where?”

“To the ranch.”

“No. You aren’t.”

“Yes. I am.” I stare him down, standing my ground. “I have to do something, Wyatt.” Hating the desperation that creeps into my voice, I beg, “You know what it’s like to be still. It’ll get me out of the house. Give me something to do.” I’m well aware I’m bargaining with the literal devil, but I have to try.

His breath hitches, his face softening. “I promised your sister I’d take care of you,” he says lowly.

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