A Ranch for His Family. Hope Navarre

      His mother rose and closed the curtain against the brightness. She pressed both hands to the small of her back and stretched. Turning to Robyn, she said, “I’m going to step out and get a bite. Do you want anything?”

      “No, thanks.” She didn’t have much of an appetite.

      “I swear the smell in this hospital makes me sick. I think I’ll run across the street to McDonald’s.”

      Robyn smiled. She found the faint antiseptic smell comforting and familiar. “You don’t fool me. You just like their French fries better than the ones in the cafeteria.”

      “I’m a sucker for a Big Mac, too. I won’t be gone long.”

      “Take your time. His vital signs are stable. I know you could use the break.”

      “Is there any way to tell how much longer he’ll be unconscious?”

      “Not really.” The doctors had placed him in a medical comma to monitor the swelling in his brain. They had stopped his sedation that morning. He should have been awake by now. Robyn didn’t want to worry his mother any more than she had to.

      Ellie stopped beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Thanks for staying with me, honey. Jake and Connie are flying in tonight. They will be able to spell me so you can go home. I know you miss Chance.”

      “I do. I’ve never been away from him for this long.”

      “I used to think that you would be my daughter-in-law one day. I never gave up hoping my hardheaded youngest would realize his mistake and come settle down with you.”

      Robyn covered Ellie’s hand with her own. She avoided looking at the older woman. “Neal and I were kids when we were head over heels for each other. We mistook infatuation for love. It wasn’t meant to be.”

      While her statement wasn’t a complete lie, it wasn’t the truth, either. She had been deeply in love with Neal, but he hadn’t loved her in return.

      “Well, a body can still hope,” Ellie declared and then left the room.

      Neal moaned softly. Robyn leaned forward to brush back a dark brown curl and laid her hand lightly on his forehead. His skin was warm to the touch but not feverish. His color was sickly pale under his deep tan. A thick bandage covered the left side of his face.

      She moved her hand and laid it over his where it rested on the bed at his side. A gentle smile touched her lips as she remembered a time when they had measured their hands against each other’s. His fingers were long, straight and calloused. Her little finger curved outward, and he had laughed as he’d teased her about that.

      They had laughed about so much when they were young. Her smile faded. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been in love with him.

      In grade school, she had followed him around like a faithful puppy. Having grown up as neighbors, they were inseparable friends. It didn’t matter to Neal that she was a girl. She could ride and rope as good as any boy.

      In high school, they’d begun to rodeo together as a team roping pair. During Neal’s senior year, their friendship had evolved into a tender teenage love affair. When he’d graduated the year before her, she’d worried constantly that he might meet someone else at college. It was during that time that he had given up roping and began riding bulls.

      She’d hated it. She had known what could happen. Not long after that, he’d quit school and begun traveling the pro rodeo circuit. His father had been furious.

      She had tried to wait patiently for Neal’s infrequent visits home, but in the end, she’d simply had to follow him. She’d moved into his tiny camper and set up house. Being with him had been wonderful and terrifying at the same time. She had hated watching him put himself in danger. They’d had some fine arguments about it, but he wouldn’t quit. She had tried not to let her fear and worry show. He’d loved riding, and she’d loved him. She’d been happy in spite of the rough life and hardships of being on the circuit because she’d known his heart belonged to her. All she could do was pray that he survived.

      During the long months of traveling and living out of a secondhand camper, she’d dreamed of the day when they would leave the rodeo behind, settle down outside Bluff Springs and raise a family on the ranch where she’d grown up.

      Then one day, she had learned a painful truth. No one woman owned his heart. Her dreams had withered and died in that instant.

      Robyn sighed and let her head fall back against the chair cushion. That heartbreak belonged in the past. She had moved on with her life. A lot of things hadn’t worked out the way she’d expected them to. The ranch she had grown up on was failing now that her father was gone. If something didn’t change soon, they would have to sell. She hated the idea. She had dreamed that one day her son would raise his children there.

      She had expected to marry her childhood sweetheart and live happily ever after, but Neal had broken her heart, and she’d left him. When she had discovered she had a reason to go back, her pride had kept her away and driven her to make a choice that had changed the course of her life and many others.

      She gazed at Neal’s pale, still face. He would never know what that decision had cost both of them.

      The small voice of her conscience whispered that she was wrong to keep her secret. What if Neal had died without knowing he had a son? Could she live with that?

      She glanced at the wedding band she wore on her left hand. She had promised her husband, as he lay dying in a hospital bed very much like this one, that she would never reveal Chance wasn’t his child.

      Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Were we wrong, Colin?”

      She had been young, deeply hurt and bitter when she’d left Neal. She hadn’t discovered until weeks later that she was pregnant. Neal had never wanted children. She had refused to use a child to force him back into a relationship that he clearly didn’t want with her. She had let him have the freedom he craved. Not a day went by that she didn’t question her choice.

      There was no going back, no way to undo the past. Right or wrong, she’d kept her secret.

      Weariness crept into her bones. She closed her eyes to rest them. She must have fallen asleep, because she jerked awake sometime later when a hoarse voice whispered, “Where am I?”

      She sat up and brushed the hair out of her eyes. “Hey, cowboy. It’s about time you woke up.”

      “Me? You’re the one snoring.” His voice was weak, but she was so glad to hear it.

      She smiled softly. “How rude of me. Do you know where you are?”

      “A torture chamber?”

      “Close. A hospital in Kansas City. Would you like some water?”

      “Yes,” he croaked.

      She picked up a white Styrofoam cup from the bedside table and held the bent straw to his lips. He sipped slowly. When he turned his face away, she put the cup down. “How do you feel?”

      “Like the bull rode me for the full eight.” His voice was stronger when he answered her. His feeble joke triggered a new flood of relief. His doctors had been worried about possible brain damage.

      “I think you threw him before the whistle,” she answered.

      “Kent,” he said suddenly. “Kent Daley, is he okay? I saw the bull knock him down.”

      “He’s fine,” she assured him. “He was out cold for a few minutes, but that’s all. The outriders managed to keep the bull off of him.”

      Neal relaxed. “That’s good. He’s a decent guy.”

      “He’s been here twice to see you. He’s very grateful for what you did.”

      “He did the same for me.”

      Neal