Page 42 of Take Me Please, Cowboy
He didn’t share his worries as he tried to protect others.
Just talking to her made him feel better, closer, even though they hadn’t talked about anything particularly deep.It was the kind of call where you talked about nothing and everything, where you talked just to hear the other person’s voice, and then wait for the laugh.Ansley had an amazing laugh, too—sexy, warm, generous.Hearing her voice made him ache for her.Her laugh made him crave her mouth and softness.
He wanted to see her.He wanted to taste her and draw her close, wrapping his arms around her delicious, addictive warmth.
Rye reached home just at midnight.After taking care of the horses and unhooking his rig, he showered in his trailer and collapsed into bed.As he closed his eyes, his phone vibrated and he glanced at it.Ansley.
Tell me you’re home, she said.
Ansley’s text made him smile.I’m home, he answered.
Good.I couldn’t sleep until I knew you were safe.
You’re a hard woman to resist.
The three little dots danced as she typed her response.I don’t know about that.You’ve done a pretty good job of resisting me so far.
That’s because you’ve done a good job of wearing my resistance down,he answered quickly.
She sent him a laughing emoji.Good, she added.Life is too short not to enjoy it.She hesitated and then typed,I want to see you.I want to meet you somewhere.
You keep asking for trouble.
I guess you like trouble, she wrote.
For a long moment there was no reply, and then he replied,I like you.
*
Ansley held herphone to her chest, holding Rye’s words close to her heart.
They had to find a way to make this work, and they would.Once all my pieces are ready for the exhibit, I’m going to find a way to see you, she told him.
Ansley held her breath as she waited for his answer, and then it came.Maybe we can meet in the middle, he answered.
She smiled.Perfect.
The next week passed far more quickly for Ansley now that she and Rye were talking.She felt more optimistic, which lifted her spirits and helped her concentration while painting, allowing her to work longer.Every night she and Rye talked for ten or fifteen minutes before bed, and in the morning, he usually texted her a good morning when he was on his way to work.
He’d be leaving for the rodeo in Idaho Falls after work.It would be another seven-and-a-half-hour drive for him.She knew, because she’d mapped it, and he’d be driving I-15 south, straight through Butte, which was only an hour and thirty-five minutes from Marietta.Two hours from the Campbell ranch.She didn’t think it’d be a good idea to try to see him on the way down, but maybe on the return drive Sunday?They could meet for dinner in Butte and he could continue home, and she’d return to Paradise Valley.She hadn’t told him her idea yet, but she would when they talked tonight, when he was on the road heading to Idaho.
All day, she felt butterflies, and that electric nervous energy of wanting something so bad she could taste it.She was dying to see Rye.It had been almost two weeks since they’d said goodbye, and on Sunday it would be two weeks exactly.She hoped he’d be receptive to her idea.It didn’t even have to be a long dinner.An hour would be perfect.Please, please let him say yes.
But that night Rye didn’t call her.There was no checking in from the road.
Ansley waited, wanting to give him space, but when she went to bed, she felt puzzled, and hurt.He’d promised to call.Had he broken his phone?Had his truck broken down again?What had happened?
*
One minute, Ryewas on the Eureka Fire Department’s roof and the next he was flying through the air.Rye only had a split second to react before he slammed to the ground, hurtling himself forward trying to create a ball to protect his back.He hit the ground hard, knocking the air out of him.
Rye never lost consciousness, so he heard the shouts around him.It took a moment to catch his breath, but he knew almost immediately he’d broken something.Or somethings.The pain was severe.It was a similar pain to what he’d felt when he’d broken his shoulder a couple of years ago, only this was hotter, more brutal, and throbbing in more places.
Because he’d been at the fire department, one of the volunteer paramedics raced out to help while another one got the gurney from their ambulance.During the drive to the hospital, Rye created a mental list of things he’d need to do—alert his insurance, let his family know, take a look at his schedule and see what upcoming jobs needed to be shuffled or rescheduled, and then there were three upcoming rodeos he’d have to withdraw from.
And then there was Ansley.He’d have to tell her, he supposed, but didn’t want to.She’d worry, and she had enough on her plate.
There was also the lost revenue.The new bills, too, as his insurance wouldn’t cover all the hospital costs.
