More Than a Cowboy

Resurrection’s shoulder slammed into her, knocking her off balance. Her wig flew off, and her hair tumbled free. Something warm spurted onto her tongue. The familiar taste of fear rose in her throat. How had she ever thought she was a match for this animal?

Resurrection kicked sideways, catching the cowboy’s leg. His bone snapped, pulling a pained scream from his lips. Haley lunged forward, caught the rigging between her fingers and pulled. The man’s pain-filled eyes connected with hers. A suffocating sensation tightened her throat. Sarah’s eyes.

“You,” she gasped. She yanked the rigging free and released him. The force knocked her to the ground. She rose in a daze. Resurrection circled the arena, challenging all efforts to herd him toward the exit.

The cowboy looked at her with eyes full of pain, then recognition, and something else she couldn’t quite define.

“I’m sorry,” he screamed. “I’m sorry.”

Resurrection pawed the dirt. The wild look in his eyes held Haley immobile. The noise dimmed and the world seemed to move in slow motion, sending her back to a place she didn’t want to be and time she didn’t want to remember.

“Get him out of there, Haley,” Chester yelled.

Haley closed her eyes, reliving in a flash the two incidents that had forever changed her life. Mitch and Resurrection. Two memories converged into one arena.

Resurrection charged. Two feet from her, he pivoted, catching Mitch between his horns and tossing him into the air. Mitch landed with a thud. The bull pounded his limp body.

Haley latched on to her shredded confidence. Ignoring her pain, she grabbed Resurrection’s tail and yanked hard, then darted forward and smacked his shoulder. The bull spun around, pawed the ground and charged again. Haley moved in front of Mitch. Resurrection stopped, lifted his head and grunted, then pivoted and trotted out the gate. Mitch lay where he had fallen. Silence hung over the arena.

A new anguish seared her heart. The world spun around her, as though she was viewing someone else’s life from a distance and not her own. Her knees buckled. Hap rushed through the gate and caught her before she hit the ground. Her whole body shook with a force that seemed to move the earth.

“I froze, Hap. I killed him. I killed Sarah’s father.”

Chapter Two

“You’re set to go,” the nurse said, taking the release form from Haley. “Take it easy, now. You’re going to be sore for a while.”

Haley slid off the exam table and touched the bandage covering her stitches. Every muscle protested. She stood up and moved toward the door. A call button blinked in the next room. “If you have any problems, don’t hesitate to come back,” the nurse said, disappearing behind the next curtain.

Little by little, warmth seeped back into Haley’s veins, bringing with it a wretchedness of mind she’d never known before. She glanced at the clock. Nearly nine-thirty. Barely an hour had passed since she’d agreed to let Hap bring her to the hospital and check her over. The emergency room was almost empty; the halls quiet, except for the steady blip of a monitor and the puff, hiss of the oxygen feed coming from a room down the hall. His room.

She had to pull herself together before facing Hap. The stitches in her forehead throbbed. Her body ached with reddening bruises. But bruises would heal. She wasn’t so sure about her spirit.

She should leave and never look back, but the room drew her like an invisible magnet. Not the room. Him. He drew her. She’d put him here. In spite of everything, she couldn’t walk away. What if he died? What if he lived? What would that mean for Sarah? If he found out about Sarah…

Her mouth moistened with bile. She inched down the hall and stopped at the glass partition, touching the scrawled name card beside the exam room. Mitch Jessup. She’d never thought about him as a person—until now. He’d been a monster in her nightmares. A name she’d chosen to forget—until now. Fear made her step back, but an unseen hand seemed to urge her forward. She stepped into the room.

Mitch’s pale face blended into the pillowcase as though he was a part of it. Several bags hung from a pole, connected to him through IV tubes. The nurse pushed medication into one, then adjusted the fluid drip and looked up.

“Must have been some wreck,” she said. “Are you a relative?”

Haley’s hand shook. They were related. Through Sarah. “Sort of.” She looked away. “How bad is he?”

“Stable for now. He’s headed for surgery. The doctor’s reviewing the X-rays. He’ll be back,” she said.

“I’ll wait if you don’t mind.”

“It’s good that he’s not alone.”

The nurse checked Mitch’s pulse, gave Haley’s arm a pat and left. Haley edged closer. A deep gash ran along his jaw. Cuts streaked his arms, some stitched, some held together by butterfly strips. She suspected the worst injuries lay hidden beneath the sheet. His dark hair stood out against the pillow. Sunken cheeks gave his face a death-like appearance. Except for the shallow rise and fall of his chest, he looked like a corpse, nothing like the man she’d met at the carnival that hot July night eight years ago.

She’d lied to Pop about where she was going, knowing full well he would refuse to let her go. She’d seen the tall, handsome cowboy the moment she’d entered the gate—felt his eyes roam over her. He had a strong square jaw with full, high cheekbones; crisp dark hair that curled around his neck and a dazzling smile that made her heart skip.

He was older, worldly and smooth, and just a tad drunk. But not so drunk that he hadn’t known what he was doing. He was all the forbidden things she’d been told to stay away from and everything that enticed an innocent teen full of curiosity and whimsical dreams.

“I’m Haley,” she’d offered.

His grin had turned her knees to Jell-O. “Hello, Haley.” He bowed. “Mitch Jessup, at your service. But you can call me Lancelot. Seems my Guinevere has stood me up.”

“I’ll be Gwen,” she’d murmured.

He’d touched her arm. “I’d like that. Wanna ride the carousel with me?” He’d leaned toward her, his lips only inches from hers. The flirtation seemed so trivial then. Not so, now.

The monitor blipped again. Haley jumped, stepped back, then moved closer to the bed, blocking her thoughts, holding the past behind the barrier that had preserved her for so long.

She wanted him to suffer, not die. If he died, it would be on her head, one more guilt to add to her list of sins. A sob escaped her lips. She closed her eyes and squeezed her head between her hands, unwilling to face him, unable to turn away.

“Haley,” Mitch whispered. “It is you.”

She opened her eyes and backed toward the door. Reason told her he couldn’t hurt her. He was too busted up. But fear didn’t know reason. He lifted his arm and groaned.

“Don’t go.”

Haley’s legs shook, but she stopped inching toward the door. “I’ve hated you for so long.” Her gaze drifted over him, avoiding his eyes. “I never wanted this.”

His eyes glazed with pain. “I know. Not your fault. None of it….”

Tears welled in her eyes. “You took everything,” she said. “My trust, my innocence. All you left in me was shame and fear.”

His eyes closed. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry…isn’t…enough. I want you to hurt, like you’ve hurt me.”

His head moved back and forth as though her words haunted him. “If I could…change that night…God knows.”

Haley clenched her teeth. “Don’t you dare drop the God bomb on me.”

Mitch’s attempted smile ended in a grimace. “Felt that way once or twice.” His body spasmed. He caught his breath. “God can heal this. Heal us.”

“Us…?” She shrank from the word, from his pleading eyes. “I’ll never forgive you for what you did.”

“No.” He looked incredibly tired. “Forgive yourself.” He gasped and looked straight through her. “Give God the hurt. Only way past it.” He gasped, then closed his gray-green eyes.

Sarah’s eyes.

Haley’s breath caught. Whatever else Mitch Jessup was, he was Sarah’s father. Something inside her knotted like tangled rope.

Mitch’s lips quivered. “Don’t let what I did…keep you in darkness.”