Sweet Montana Boxed Set 1-5 Page 5

  “What are Tenterhook’s chances?” Kas asked.

  “Looks like he has a coffin bone break. That in itself won’t keep him lame. He’s hurting right now. He will be for a good while. But with the right treatment and a lot of rest and confinement, he could be sound again.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “He’s a strong horse. A beauty. He reminds me a little of that champion horse going back a few years…what was his name?”

  Sean fought to think of the name of the horse that had swept the rodeo circuit with countless near perfect rides two years in a rodeo more than ten years ago. The moment Kas had seen Tenterhook, he’d thought the same thing.

  “Silver Moon.”

  Sean snapped his fingers. “That’s the one. Real tragedy he died so young. He was a beauty too.”

  “Yeah.”

  News of Silver Moon’s death years ago made headlines in the rodeo world for months. The stud fee for breeding had gone sky high for what little there was left of frozen sperm that had already been collected. Unfortunately, there weren’t too many horses from his line that had appeared on the circuit since.

  “Tenterhook is quite a thoroughbred though.”

  “Tabby said he was a mustang.”

  Sean frowned. “A mustang? Are you sure?”

  “It’s what she told me. Her father bought him from Levon years ago. Levon got him from the BLM.”

  Sean whistled. “I never would have guessed this was a horse from the Bureau of Land Management. Well, whatever he is, he’ll get through this injury with some time off as long as he gets proper care. I have no doubt he will, given what I’ve seen so far from Dr. Cornin. This bar shoe the farrier put on should keep him mobilized. He should continue with those through his recuperation. But I have to agree with Dr. Cornin’s initial assessment though. I’m not sure about Tenterhook’s chances of competing again.”

  “I think Tabby already knows that next season is out of the question.”

  Sean closed the gate to Tenterhook’s stall and leaned his arm over the top rail. “I’m talking about competing at all.”

  “Never?”

  “This injury will take months to completely heal. At least the whole next season. If Tenterhook gets back to training too soon, he’ll lose all the ground he gained. It could take eight months to a year before he’s back to normal. And that’s only if he doesn’t end up with arthritis.”

  “So there’s no chance of him competing again?”

  Sean shrugged. “Did Dr. Cornin suggest he would be able to compete again?”

  “No. In fact, he said Tenterhook’s competition days may be over.”

  Sean rubbed his temple with his fingers. “I’m inclined to agree with him. I’ve seen horses come back after a bad injury. It’s not out of the question. But in my experience, a high-performance horse with this type of injury runs the risk of getting reinjured when pushed in training. Like I said, the coffin bone will heal and he could be a fine riding horse for years to come. But there will be scarring that may continue to be a problem, he may develop arthritis, and there is always the risk of infection. Any number of factors could set him back. So it’s hard to say just what Tenterhook’s future will look like. Only time will tell. If he’d pushed, the next injury could be much worse requiring he be put down. I’d hate to see that happen to such a stunning animal.”

  “It would kill Tabby.”

  “Then make sure she knows Tenterhook needs more than a little bit of rest. It’s going to take him a lot longer to heal than it will take Tabby.”

  He shook Sean’s hand. “I appreciate you coming out here on such short notice.”

  “Any time. I was with my brother Jesse when you called. He said you two used to be on the circuit together.”

  “We were. I’ve been back East so it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him.”

  “He says hello and asked me to pass on the message to call him for a beer while you’re still in Montana.”

  “I will.”

  After Sean left, Kas filled Trip in on the conversation about Tenterhook’s care. Tabby was due to be released from the hospital later in the day and he’d offered to get her so Trip didn’t have to drive out to Billings. Before he went to the hospital, he stopped at a floral shop and picked up some balloons to help welcome her home. She’d been depressed the other night when she’d been told she had to stay in the hospital for a few days.

  He wasn’t even all the way through the hospital door when he found her fully dressed and sitting on the bed with one leg dangling over the side and the other leg with the cast elevated.

  “Trip already called. Now I want you to give it to me straight. How bad is Tenterhook?” she asked.

  “I brought you some balloons,” he said. He forced his voice to be more chipper than he felt. He wasn’t exactly sure how she would take the news.

  “Thanks. But let’s stay focused.”

  He smiled. “I am focused.”

  “Tenterhook? Trip said you had a second opinion from another vet. How bad was Tenterhook injured that he needed a second opinion?”

  She wasn’t going to let it go. That much was clear. All things being considered, Kas didn’t blame her. He remembered what it was like to sit in that hospital bed and be told that he was never going to ride a bull again. That all his hopes of being a champion were gone.

  In that moment, all seemed lost to him. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think of anything beyond what he’d lost. What was worse was he couldn’t even react the way he wanted to. He wanted to punch something or throw something and scream at the top of his lungs. He screamed because he hadn’t been able to do anything else with a broken neck and a halo screwed to his scull to keep his neck mobilized.

  “Tenterhook has a coffin bone fracture,” he said bluntly.

  Tabby slumped back in bed. What little hope she’d had just seconds ago when she gazed at his face looking for answers was now gone.

  “Did both veterinarians suggest euthanization?” She’d choked the last word out.

  “No. Neither did. Trip must have told you that.”

  Hope was back in her expression as tears filled her eyes. “He did. I thought he was lying.”

  “Really. I’m not going to lie. And you know that it is a serious injury. But Sean Knight seemed hopeful Tenterhook would at least be able to heal enough for riding. He could live a long life as long as he’s taken care of properly.”

  “But no competing,” she said soberly.

  “It’s still too early for that. It’s going to take a long time for him to heal and he needs continued care.”

  “That I can’t afford.” She blew out a quick breath and rubbed her hands over her face. “Veterinarian bills are expensive. A lot more than I can afford especially since now I have hospital bills to pay for, too.”

  “Don’t worry about Tenterhook. He’ll be taken care of.”

  He wanted more than ever to wipe that lost look from her face by saying everything would be all right. But he didn’t know that for sure and if he said it, he would be lying. He’d already promised her he wouldn’t.

  “I suppose you’ll be leaving for New York soon. I mean, since you’re done with your business at the ranch.”

  “No. I still have business here. I’ll be here for a while.”

  She nodded. “You’re looking at other horses to sponsor now that Tenterhook is no longer in the running and Mad Dog isn’t breeding? Or maybe another bull to invest in?”

  Her disappointment was profound and he felt powerless to change it.

  “I’m always on the lookout for stock to invest in. It’s part of what I do. A small part anyway.”

  “What do you do?” she asked, suddenly distracted from her disappointment. He used this moment to bring her out of her depression over the situation.

  “I buy companies that are failing. If I can rework them and make them profitable, then they continue on. If not, I break them up and sell them piece by piece.”

  She f
rowned. “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “How did you go from bull riding to company chopping?”

  He chuckled at her chosen term for what he did for a living. “It was as far away from bull riding as I could get.”

  “But you’re not. You still invest in stock.”

  “After I started making money and I was completely healed of my injuries, I realized how much I missed the sport. It was the only way I could keep doing something I loved. I knew that if I were still in Montana, I’d get the itch to get on a bull again. My doctor told me if I did, I could risk breaking my neck again and this time I could die from it. So I left. I couldn’t be around the sport for a long time without it tearing me apart. Now I can.”

  “Levon said you own a hockey team.”

  “I do. Part of it anyway. There are several owners. I have a small share. What can I say? I love hockey.”

  “But not as much as bull riding.”

  He shrugged. “It’s a different kind of rush.”

  Tabby nodded and then drew in a deep breath and eased herself off the bed, wincing as her leg went over the side of the bed and dropped to floor.

  “Were the balloons to make me feel better for losing out on your sponsorship?”

  He glanced at the balloons and for the first time questioned whether he’d made a good choice. Balloons were usually celebratory. Tabby wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. But she would eventually. She just didn’t know it now.

  “The balloons were for you to give Tenterhook. He’s feeling a little blue without you.”

  She glanced at him and frowned. Then she chuckled softly. He liked hearing her laugh again. He wondered how long it would be before he saw it again.

  “That sounds like something Levon would have said to me. Tenterhook will probably like them.”

  She got up from the bed and grabbed the crutches the nurse had left for her to use. She fiddled with them for a bit and then grunted with frustration. “I already hate these. It’s a good thing they set me up with a walking cast because as soon as I am able I’m ditching these things to walk on my own.”

  He loved her spirit. He loved that in the face of adversity, she fought back. She would heal and she would go on to compete again, even if it wasn’t with Tenterhook. He was sure of it.

  Sweet Montana Sky: Chapter Five

  It seemed that life was at a standstill for Tabby when she got home from the hospital. She’d had a difficult time adjusting to the staircase up to her apartment with her crutches. Trip was afraid she’d fall, so each day, Trip or one of the hands would help her down the stairs when she felt like getting out for some fresh air and then someone would help her back up when she got too tired.

  The pain killers the doctor had given her made her loopy. She hated the feeling. It made it hard to do much of anything other than sit on the sofa and sleep. Most days someone would bring her a meal and sit and talk for a few minutes before going back to work. Tabby would look out the window and see the barn where Tenterhook was confined to his stall, hopefully healing.

  The chances were strong Tenterhook would never compete again. They’d been a team. He’d been her constant companion since her parents’ deaths. It wasn’t as easy as everyone made it out to be. Train with another horse? How could she?

  When you trained for barrel racing, you spent a lot of time with your horse. She couldn’t just discard Tenterhook and forget that he was a big part of everything she’d learned about barrel racing.

  Kas said it was only a matter of time that she’d start training with another horse. Maybe. But right now she was stuck. Alone. With no chance of getting out of this apartment on a beautiful sunny day to see her horse unless someone came to get her and helped her down the stairs. She couldn’t even work at the bakery at the grocery store in order to earn much needed money to help pay her bills and pay for ongoing veterinarian treatment Tenterhook needed. Her mood was so foul that when she heard the knock on the door, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to answer it.

  After the third knock, Kas opened the door and slowly walked in carrying a plate of food. She was hungry. She hadn’t eaten anything since early that morning. But as soon as she saw his face, all thoughts of food disappeared. He smiled at her and emotion bubbled up her throat until she sobbed.

  * * *

  When Kas stopped by the bakery Tabby worked at to pick up some sweets and was told by a colleague that she worked with that she had a particular sweet tooth for cannoli, he figured it was the perfect excuse to drop by and see her. With the box of sweets in his hand and a plate that the ranch’s cook and put together for Tabby, Kas walked through her door and found her sobbing.

  “I don’t usually get that kind of reaction from people,” he said.

  “No? Well, then I’m unique.” She sniffed back a few tears.

  “The door was open.”

  “I don’t usually keep it locked during the day. It makes it easier for Trip and the hands to stop by without me having to get up and down from the sofa.”

  He hesitated. “Can I come in?”

  “As long as I can have whatever is in that pastry box. Please tell me Georgette was working today and told you what I like.”

  He grinned. “She made them special for you.”

  She sobbed a little bit more and then lifted her arms to take the box.

  “Don’t you want to eat lunch first?”

  “Spoil sport. Nothing is as good as Georgette’s cannoli.”

  He handed her the box and she immediately broke the string holding it shut, and then popped open the top. She had a look of longing when she reached in, took out one, and held it in front of her.

  “Are you into sharing?” Kas asked.

  “Not usually. But since you did bring the cannoli, I’ll make an exception.”

  She handed him the open box while she started devouring her cannoli. With both hands occupied, he put the hot lunch plate down on the side table and sat in the chair opposite the sofa.

  She ran her tongue over her lips to scrape away the cannoli cheese and powdered sugar remnants. Then she gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re buttering me up for something.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  He took a bite of the cannoli. A little murmur of delight bubbled up his throat.

  “See? Georgette makes the best,” Tabby said. She finished off her cannoli and rubbed her hands together, letting the powdered sugar fall to her lap. “So out with it. What’s the real reason you’re here?”

  “Isn’t it enough to want to see you?”

  She glanced down at her hands with guilt. “Sorry. Everyone has been going out of their way trying to make me feel better. But nothing is going to work.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  She chuckled wryly, reached down to her leg and knocked on her cast. “Well this is pretty clear proof things aren’t going so great.”

  “That’s temporary. You know that.”

  “But Tenterhook might not be. I can’t even get out to the barn to see him on my own. He’s hurting and he probably thinks I’ve forgotten about him.”

  She started to sob again. This time more softly than when he’d first arrived. But still just as heartbreaking.

  “I know you’re feeling lost,” Kas said.

  Tabby turned her face to the white curtain behind the sofa. “I don’t want to talk about it, Kas.”

  “Then don’t talk about it. Let’s just get up and do something.”

  She glanced at her cast and then at him.

  “You’re not going to let that get in the way, are you?”

  “No, of course not,” she said sarcastically. “Let me just get my ballet slippers and tutu on right now and I’ll do a dance.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of ballet slippers. I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a tutu.”

  “Don’t push me. Please just leave me alone.”

  “You have a right to be angry,” Kas pressed.

  “You don’t know anything!
How could you know what I’m feeling right now?”

  “Because I’ve been there. I know more about what you’re going through than anyone you know. You still have a chance to get up and get moving again. My riding days ended the day Wicked Wild stomped on my back and broke my neck. Everything I’d wanted for myself and my future ended in that moment and nothing else after that mattered as much.”

  Her mouth dropped open just a bit.

  “But, you’re a successful business man. You’re one of those hockey jocks.”

  His lips lifted only slightly. “Who told you that?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Okay, play it your way.”

  “It doesn’t matter. People talk.” When he continued to challenge her with a stare, she added, “You own a hockey team and you play hockey here in Sweet every chance you get with the local jocks. That makes you a jock.”

  “I’d hardly call them local jocks. They’re friends from high school who are still in rodeo. It’s been a while since I played.”

  “How come? You’ve been back here for weeks. The local skating rink in the next county has hours.”

  “We never play hockey on a rink. We started playing on the mill pond on the side of town. It’s a good size. Not too deep so it freezes up pretty quick. And the mill owner doesn’t mind us playing on a Saturday every now and then.

  “I didn’t play hockey when I was younger. I started when I stopped competing. A lot of us needed some way to burn off all that testosterone when the rodeo season ended. I stopped when I left Sweet. But I missed it, and I went back into it when I found out some of my friends were still playing. You should come see us play some time.”

  Her eyebrows stretched high on her forehead. “I still have another four weeks with this cast. I’m not going anywhere. Besides, what am I supposed to do, lace up skates over this cast?”

  He thought a moment. It could work. Not lacing up skates over her cast. But it was clear Tabby had cabin fever. And staying here feeling sorry for herself wasn’t helping her frame of mind at all.