A Bull Rider's Pride. Amanda Renee

      

       “You weren’t my doctor, but I noticed you.”

      Brady smiled; there was that dimple again. “I secretly hoped that you noticed me, too. But I get it. There are so many patients, we become a number.”

      “You certainly weren’t a number.” Sheila took the wounded bull rider’s hand. She braved a look into his eyes.

      Suddenly she rose, pulling away from him. “What am I doing?”

      “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you that.”

      Sheila shook her head. “You understand that nothing can ever happen between us? It would cost me my job. Nobody is worth that sacrifice.”

      “Relax, Doc.” Brady shrugged. “It was just a harmless flirtation. It won’t happen again.”

      “Good.” His admission was oddly reassuring and uncomfortable at the same time. “I’m going to finish my rounds and then I’ll be back to see you.”

      Brady winked. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

      Sheila shouldn’t have read anything into his reply, but the undercurrent was undeniable. No man had ever had the ability to ruin her, but if she wasn’t careful, this one just might.

      A Bull Rider’s Pride

       Amanda Renee

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      AMANDA RENEE was raised in the Northeast and now wriggles her toes in the warm sand of coastal South Carolina. Her career began when she was discovered through Mills & Boon’s So You Think You Can Write contest. When not creating stories about love and laughter, she enjoys the company of her schnoodle, Duffy, camping, playing guitar and piano, photography and anything involving horses. You can visit her at www.amandarenee.com.

      For Dad

      Thank you for always supporting me.

      I love you.

      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Epilogue

       SHEILA’S SUGAR COOKIE RECIPE

       SHEILA’S ROYAL ICING RECIPE

       Extract

       Copyright

Prologue

      The roar of the crowd faded as he sailed through the air. Gravity defying seconds morphed into an eternity until he struck the dirt with a resounding thud. A frenzy of blurred images danced before him in the deafening silence. He scrambled to his knees, searching for the safety of the arena fence. Muted shouts began to seep through the murkiness. Adrenaline triumphed over the growing ache that tore through his left leg. Then darkness overshadowed him. Once more, he was plucked effortlessly from the ground like a twig in a summer twister. The bull’s head slammed into his spine—the sudden blow burning his lungs.

      His arms desperately clawed for something to hold on to as the bull violently swung his head from side to side, but he found only the beast beneath him. With each twist and snort, the animal stole another breath from his body. And then nothing.

      No sound.

      No pain.

      His world slipped away with a single thought... Gunner.

Chapter One

      “I’ll never understand what motivates someone to climb on top of a one-ton animal hell-bent to drive them into the ground.” Orthopedic surgeon Dr. Sheila Lindstrom reviewed Brady Sawyer’s chart one final time before she headed down the hall to give him the news he’d been waiting two months to hear.

      “Bull riders are nothing more than stubborn cowboys looking for an adrenaline fix,” Marissa Sloane said. The junior orthopedic surgical resident assigned to Sheila’s service at Grace General Hospital tossed her coffee cup in the trash behind the nurse’s station and scanned the patient whiteboard. “Look at it this way, bull riding helps keep us in business. Besides, I think you have a soft spot for the cowboy. You’ve monitored his case ever since he was admitted and he wasn’t even your patient. Well, at least not until today.”

      “Only because I was on rotation that night and assisted on his initial surgery.” The trauma team had airlifted Brady from the arena and he’d coded once while en route. “I’m still amazed he made it through the first twenty-four hours, let alone is strong enough for release to a rehabilitation facility.” Sheila was glad she’d been wrong. Seeing a patient leave the hospital in remarkably better condition than when they arrived was its own reward.

      “And you get to go with him.” Marissa playfully elbowed her.

      “I’m hardly going with him. The hippotherapy center is part of my job.” The orthopedic