Randall Riches. Judy Christenberry

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Randall Riches - Judy Christenberry


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be here.” Without another word, she left.

      Rich leaned back against the pillow, feeling as if he’d just fought a battle. The woman was difficult. And he hoped he hadn’t made a mistake.

      GABE RANDALL WAS saying his goodbyes when Sam reached the rodeo grounds. She explained what had happened to Rich, and Gabe offered to stay an extra day to help him out.

      She refused his generosity, explaining that Rich had told her that Gabe didn’t have any spare time. She asked him to show her the feed and where to get water, and she’d take care of everything else.

      Gabe did more than that. He showed her everything that would need to be done, and he introduced her to several men who worked at the barn. They agreed to help her the next morning.

      “You’ve been very kind,” Sam said, shaking Gabe’s hand.

      “Are you and Rich, uh, together?”

      “No. I’m just helping him out.”

      “Well, Rich is a lucky man.”

      Sam figured she would be the one everyone would think lucky, if their engagement were real. The cowboy, like his cousin Gabe, was a handsome man.

      “Do you have everything you need?” Gabe asked, seemingly reluctant to abandon her.

      “Thanks to you, I do,” she assured him.

      “Well, I hope I’ll see you again. I’ll be stopping by Rawhide after the Nationals. Will you be there?”

      “Maybe,” she said with a grin.

      “If Rich is as smart as I think he is, then I will be seeing you again. Tell Rich I hope he heals quickly.”

      With a frown, Sam asked, “Will he come back to the rodeo then?”

      “Maybe. But I don’t think so. I don’t think his heart is in it.” Then he shook her hand and walked away.

      After Gabe left, Sam examined the trailer, hoping it was one of those that had a bed and storage at the front end. But no such luck. However, she could stay in the cab of the truck again, as she had last night. And the rodeo offered bathing facilities for the cowboys who stayed in trucks and trailers.

      She made a run to a grocery store and bought some drinks and snack food. She also paid for a cheap blanket. It got cool at night in Flagstaff. But she knew it got downright cold in Wyoming. Then she drove to a gas station and filled the truck. When she returned to the rodeo grounds, she visited Bella. She’d been around horses a lot when she was little. Her father had made a little money following the rodeo and she’d cleaned stables alongside him.

      Bella, she decided, was much sweeter than her owner. Sam and the mare became friends in the shadows as the light faded. Then she returned to the truck. With her new blanket, she settled down for the night.

      RICH FOUND HIMSELF looking forward to Sam’s return. Or did she prefer to be called Samantha? He seemed to remember the café cook calling her Sam, but Rich didn’t think she liked the man too much. Maybe he’d ask her.

      He was feeling much more congenial toward the waitress this morning because everything had been worked out. He was leaving the hospital. It wasn’t a bad hospital, but he wanted out. He would be mobile again with his walking cast. And, most important of all, he was going home.

      They brought in breakfast at seven. Rich enjoyed the scrambled eggs, biscuits and sausage. He figured it would save them a stop until lunch. If they pushed it, they might reach Rawhide late tomorrow. If they needed more time, they could pull in the next day at a reasonable time. It depended on what the driver could handle.

      He was just finishing breakfast when Sam walked in. “You’re early,” he exclaimed.

      “I thought you might be anxious.”

      He grinned. “Yeah, I am.” He punched the nurse’s button. “Hey, I’m ready to go. What do I have to do?”

      “The doctor will be there soon,” the disembodied voice assured him.

      He scowled at Sam. “Did everything go all right?”

      “Yes.”

      “Gabe took care of everything?”

      “Yes,” she repeated, smiling but reserved.

      “You’re not a big talker, are you?”

      “No.”

      He stared at her, wondering if she was normally so taciturn. She’d seemed friendly enough the night she’d brought him to the hospital. Since then, they’d been at odds most of the time.

      “Did you get breakfast?”

      This time she nodded, just as the nurse came in to collect the breakfast tray. “Doctor just came on the floor, so he’ll be here any time now.”

      Rich thanked her. After she left, he got up to visit the bathroom.

      “Can you make it?” she asked, taking a step forward.

      “Yeah. I’ll be right out.”

      The nurses had slit the right leg on his jeans, which made it easy to get them on. He’d have to see if his mom could sew the seam again when he got the cast off since these were his favorite pair of jeans.

      He came out of the bathroom just as the doctor entered the room. “Hey, Doc, I’m ready to go.”

      “I can tell. Good thing your fiancée is here to drive you.”

      Rich came to an abrupt halt, staring at Sam. She gave him a cool stare, not bothering to explain. “Uh, yeah.”

      “You remember you’re not to drive for four weeks,” the doctor reminded him.

      He gave a nod but said nothing, still watching Sam.

      The doctor turned to Sam, too, and handed her a small bottle of pills. “These are pain pills. He’s going to suffer some before things get better. Be careful with these, they’re pretty strong. Don’t overdo them.”

      “No, I won’t.”

      “I should be in charge of those,” Rich protested, holding out his hand.

      Sam slipped the bottle into her purse. “Is there anything else, Doctor?” she asked, ignoring Rich.

      “Yeah. He’ll be more comfortable if his leg is elevated. And he should see his own doctor when he gets home.”

      “Of course. I’ll remind him,” she said and gave the doctor a smile that lit up her face. Rich hadn’t gotten that kind of smile.

      “That’s it, then,” the doctor said. He held out a hand to Sam and, in Rich’s mind, held it too long. Then he shook Rich’s hand. “Good luck.”

      Sam didn’t move until the doctor had gone. “Ready? I’ll get your jacket.”

      A nurse came in with a wheelchair. “Here we are, Mr. Randall.”

      “I have a walking cast,” he pointed out.

      “Good for you. Get in.”

      “But I—”

      “Hospital rules,” the nurse said, her manner firm.

      He ignored the smile Sam was giving him and sat down in the chair.

      She said, “I’ll go ahead and pull the truck around to the door.”

      As she hurried ahead of them, the nurse said, “Pretty girl. When are you getting married?”

      “We’re not!” Rich snapped.

      “The doctor said she was your fiancée.”

      “No, she’s a friend.” He needed to ask Sam about how the doctor had gotten the idea that they were engaged. But first he needed to get out of the hospital.

      The


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