Page 1 of All Night with the Cowboy
Prologue
Professional Bull Riders World Finals, Las Vegas
November 4
TANNER FORD shut his eyes for a nano-second before signaling for the chute to open. His fingers were clenched tightly around the rigging, glue helping to hold him in place as the bull emerged full throttle into the arena. He heard the roar of the crowd but blocked out everything else, counting in his head, listening only to the grunt of the beast beneath him and the powerful thrust of his enormous, unpredictable bucks.
Holy shit.The bull swung sideways, living up to his reputation, lurching back and forth as he shook the hell out of Tanner. Thunder Cat was known for being gnarly, but then that’s precisely why Tanner had been thrilled to draw him. He was going for the win, and he wanted to take home the title for the second year in a row.
He was at five seconds. He was so close, and he tucked his spurred boots firm against the bull, wanting him to buck harder, wanting to score the best damn points in the—
Tanner lurched back, the whip-fast movement popping something in his wrist and sending pain shootingthrough his arm. He held as tight as he could, but something wasn’t right. He couldn’t keep his balance.
Thump.He hit the ground with a cruel thud, the snap of his ankle a noise he’d never forget—if he survived to tell the tale. His arms flailed as he tried to protect himself from the charging bull, the insistent fall of his hooves was too close for comfort as Tanner tried to roll away and failed.
“Arrghh!” he screamed as he tried to use his leg and his ankle refused to oblige. The sickening flop of his foot made vomit rise in his throat at the same time as twin horns descended toward him.
Thunder Cat gored him, going straight into his side. Tanner screamed as burning hot pain exploded through his chest, and the bull lunged for him again, piercing him a second time, his helmet peeling off his head as he desperately tried to protect himself.
He lost all feeling in his hand when the big beast careened over his wrist, then stomped on him again as he charged off. And just as Tanner tried to breathe again, tried to suck in some air that just wouldn’t fill his lungs, everything went black.
Chapter 1
November 22, Thanksgiving
TANNER took a deep breath before entering the room. From the moment he’d woken up in the hospital and started his long stay there, he’d imagined Thanksgiving afternoon; the smell of turkey roasting, the sound of his family talking, the feeling of finally being able to walk into a room again. He glanced down at the cast still covering his lower leg and clenched his fingers tightly around the crutches. Not exactly walking, perhaps hobbling was a better description for what he was doing, but it was close enough.
“Tanner?”
He stood up as tall as he could and gave his younger sister a grin, ignoring the blast of pain in his right wrist as her little toddler threw her arms up, excited to see him. “Hey, Mia. Hey, Sophia.”
“Tanner!” Mia exclaimed, leaping up and throwing her arms around him. Her pregnant belly squished against him and he struggled not to groan as she held him. Everything hurt still—his chest, his back, his wrist and his leg. He was a goddamn mess all over, but he wasn’tabout to let anyone else in the room know that. Even his little niece, Sophia, toddle-walked over to him and held onto his leg in a big cuddle. Thankfully it was his good leg, so he wasn’t wincing in pain the entire time.
“Hey, it’s not that exciting having me home, is it?” he asked, grinning down at Mia and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, then ruffling Sophia’s hair before she toddled off again. “You’d think I’d been gone for a year.”
“Honestly, you haven’t been home a minute and I’m ready to strangle you,” Mia muttered. “Of course it’s exciting! You scared us all half to death when you ended up in the hospital like that.”
He hadn’t meant to tease her—she’d lost her best friend to a riding accident and he wasn’t trying to trivialize what had happened—he just didn’t particularly want to be the center of attention. Not here and not at the hospital—all the fuss was embarrassing.
“Hey, Tan,” Cody called out, raising his beer bottle. “Ready for a drink?”
“Hell yes,” Tanner answer, throwing his brother a grateful smile. “Hey, Sam,” he said when his brother-in-law shook his hand, slapping him on the back and passing the beer over from Cody. Mia hadn’t been married to Sam for long, but Tanner already felt like he was part of the family. It helped that they both shared a solid love for Quarter Horses.
“It’s good to have you home, Tanner.” His older sister Angelina had been talking to their dad on the other side of the room but she was by his side now, giving him a long, warm hug. She was so unlike Mia, who was usually always dressed down in jeans and a T-shirt or her riding attire. Angelina was more often wearing tailored pantsand silky blouses, making her stand out like a sore thumb whenever she returned to the ranch.
He always loved Thanksgiving—it was the only time their entire family was ever together. Cody might be the complete opposite of him and Angelina was as interested in the ranch as he was in clothes shopping, but they’d always gotten along well and he missed the hell out of them when they weren’t around. As kids they’d been more similar, it was only as young adults they’d slowly drifted apart when it came to their careers and interests.
“Good to have you home, son.” His dad, the one and only Walter Ford, spoke in his trademark booming voice from the other side of the room.
Tanner raised his beer to his father and took a long, cool sip. It was like heaven in a mouthful as he stood there, propped up on his crutches.
“Come sit,” Cody ordered. “Put that leg up and watch some football.”
He let Mia fuss and take his beer while he settled himself down, grimacing when he lifted his leg up and placed it on the coffee table. It was good to get the weight off it, but it still hurt like hell most of the time—a dull, never-ending thud of pain that he was almost starting to get used to.
“You feeling okay or putting on a brave face?” Mia asked, her brows drawn together, concern written all over her expression.
“If I told you the truth, you’d only start fussing.”
