Page 13 of Entwined Hearts
I was getting ready to tell her she was wrong when my phone rang. All three of us looked down at the screen, and my stomach plummeted.
“Who’s Stewart?” Gran asked, picking up my phone.
I took it out of her hand, declined the call, and set my phone face down on the table. “Nobody,” I said quickly.
Louise snorted. “Yeah, right.Nobodydoesn’t call this early. Who is he?”
“Someone from work.” It wasn’t a complete lie. But it wasn’t the full truth either. “It’s complicated,” I said finally, staring down at my half-eaten omelette that looked less appetizing by the second.
“Complicated is okay if that’s what you want,” Gran said. “But I know you, Savannah, and you don’t do complicatedwell. Never have. You need that simple, soft kind of love.” The sincerity and knowing in her eyes absolutely gutted me.
If only she knew the guy she was rooting for was the one who was making things so complicated.
5
Weston
Five whole days of this bullshit, and I was about ready to scream.
I couldn’t do anything. I never realized how much stuff required the use of both arms until I couldn’t move one of them, and I was learning the hard way that I dida lotof shit that required two arms.
Putting on clothes? A nightmare that left both Beau and me pissed and cussing each other out. Showering? Humiliating beyond belief. Even something as simple as brushing my teeth took ten times longer than it should have.
I was sick of it.
And the headaches. Everything else would’ve been bearable if I could get past the mind-splitting headaches. It was unlike any concussion I’d ever experienced. The double vision, the light and sound sensitivity, the nausea. It was god-fucking-awful.
But even then, I needed to get out of this damn house before I started talking to the walls and they talked back. Or before Anna got here and stared at me as if I was about to disintegrate like one of Henry’s art projects held together by glitter glue and prayers.
I needed to move. To breathe. To get rid of all this anxious energy building up inside me. I wasn’t used to being this stagnant.
And I couldn’t stand being a burden to everyone. While I knew logically I wasn’t, and that my siblings were happy to help in any way they could, I couldn’t help but feel like I was. I’d grown up knowing I was a burden and being reminded of it constantly until I was left behind because of it. I couldn’t put the family who took me in through that as well. Beau already had enough on his plate with the merger and his new relationship. Colt had his own shit with the police station. And Anna wasgrowinga human while chasing after another; she didn’t need to baby me on top of it.
Ignoring the blur in my vision as I stood, I grabbed my hat and went outside. The heat hit me like a wall of fire, the Texas sun hot and strong today. By the time I managed to make it down the porch steps and to the pasture where the horses were grazing, sweat was rolling down my back.
Apollo, the horse I used every time I was home, perked up as I approached, leaving his patch of grass to come say hello. He made a low huff in demand of a treat, but I didn’t have anything on me.
“Sorry, buddy. Nothing today,” I said as I ran a hand up and down his chestnut muzzle. He huffed again, his tail flicking. The little glutton was pissed at me.
I was pissed at myself, too.
I knew the risk that came with bull riding and accepted it fully, but I never imagined that I would become one of the guys who got hurt enough to be out for more than a week. The old pros I grew up training under always told me my arrogance would catch up with me, and I hated that I proved them right.
Austin, my agent, wasn’t happy to get the news either. He was probably just as unhappy as I was. With me out, that meantno rodeos, no campaigns, no work of any kind. At least not for these next few weeks.
Just the thought made my skin crawl. I needed to be useful, to earn my keep. I’d always been this way, especially after my parents left when I was thirteen. Mount shelled out major cash for me growing up, from lawyer fees to rodeo lessons to basic needs, and that meant I worked my ass off for him, so it was worth it, or else I’d just end up feeling like a charity case.
Which was exactly how I felt now.
There were a few cowboys further out in the pastures, herding cattle into different pens. Probably for vaccines or something. If I were healthy, I would’ve been doing my part and helping.
“This is bullshit,” I murmured and stormed over to the barn. I was going to get on the back of my horse if it was the last thing I did.
Except when I got into the barn, I couldn’t even get the damn saddle down. My left arm was useless in my sling as I grabbed the saddle with my right hand and used my body as leverage to pull it down. It just slid off the post to the ground with a deafening smack that rang through my skull.
“Goddamnit,” I growled through gritted teeth, trying again, but I couldn’t get a good grasp with just one hand. I shoved it with my foot with an angry huff, sending it skidding along the floor. My balance wavered, and my vision swam, sending me staggering back into a stall.
I gripped onto the post next to me before I went falling like the saddle, my breathing ragged and energy zapped. I’d been tacking my own horse since I was nine; it was muscle memory at this point and wassupposedto be easy.
