Page 15 of Head Over Spurs

She ran her hand along Dune’s muzzle, admiring his sandy coat. Palominos were always some of her favorites. “He seems so content. Not stifled or broken at all.”

“You’re allowed to be wild here.”

His words caused her to stiffen, hand paused in midair. There was no way that Riley knew what that could actually mean to her. Yet he managed to stir something in her anyway. Something that had been on her heart yet alluding her. The idea of a home that didn’t make her feel claustrophobic. What would it feel like to belong at Hayes Ranch?

She cleared her throat and turned to the last horse. It didn’tmatter if she belonged, she was a Graham, and had her own operations to return to. “And who is this?” she asked.

“That’s Cinnamon.”

“I know that name,” she smiled, holding out the fruit chunk. “Maddie talks about you, sweet lady.”

They emptied the bucket in no time. It turned out the horses were eager to get to know her with treats involved. All out of watermelon, they moved on to some of the less enjoyable parts of the job. But even those seemed to breeze by, and the day’s end came before she knew it.

After what felt like no time at all, Jules was climbing back into her car to head out, tired and surprisingly content. And as she waved goodbye to the denim clad wrangler, currently leaning against the door of his truck with a soft smile gracing his face, she worried that he had something to do with the satisfying feeling: contentment.

9

RILEY

“Having any pain?”

He shifted on the crinkled paper that stuck to the back of his thighs. They really should make these hospital gowns longer. Folding his hands on his lap and giving up on fixing the way that paper bunched, Riley shook his head in response.

“Not really,” he answered.

“Not really? What is that supposed to mean? Paisley gives better answers at her appointments,” his sister scolded, crossing her arms. Looking down at the small girl leaning against her leg, she asked, “Don’t you, honey?”

A wild grin spread across his niece’s face as she bounced up on the balls of her feet. “Yeah, Uncle RyRy!”

He fought the smile that pulled at his lips. It’s not that he had a soft spot for her. It’s that Paisleywashis soft spot. But he couldn’t give his sister the satisfaction. “Why are you two here?”

“To make sure you answer the doctor’s questions accurately.” Piper looked towards the other man in the room who had been watching the interaction with amusement. “I’ve noticed that he does seem to reach for his back when he stands up sometimes.”

“Would it be accurate to say some pain then, son?” the doctor asked.

“Sure,” he conceded.

“Tingling? Numbness?”

Yes.

“No,” Riley lied. “Nothing like that.”

“That’s good to hear. What about weakness in your limbs, or pain that runs down them?”

“No, everything has been fine,” he insisted, the sound of tearing paper echoing around him as he shifted on the table once again.

“Muscle spasms?”

“None that have been noticeable.”

“Riley,” Piper hissed. “Explain that answer.”

Dragging out a long sigh, he rubbed his thumb across the small stubble forming once again on his upper lip. “Sometimes after a long ride… there might be a twitch or something. But I wouldn’t call it a spasm. And not anything more than before the fracture.”

The doctor nodded, taking down his response. “And what about difficulty controlling bowel movements?”

Paisley scrunched her nose, “Ew, I know what that means.”

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