Cowgirl Come Home (27 page)

Paul.

He started shouting before she could even say hello.

“Oh, my god, Bailey, what were you thinking?”

“Huh?”

“Chloe wasn’t ready to do trick riding. You should have cleared it with me first. She’s a novice, for God’s sake. Someone saw her practicing this morning. She slipped and her foot got caught in the stirrup and she was dragged halfway across the arena. I’m following the ambulance to the ER right now.”

Bailey had no idea what he was talking about. “How is she? What happened? Is she going to be okay? I don’t know—”

He interrupted, his tone furious, afraid. “Not every kid is as fearless or graceful as you. She never should have tried that swoop. Especially not on Skipper. She could have been killed.”

The swoop?
Oh, God. “I did—”

“You didn’t think. If you had, you would have asked me for permission and I would have said no. There’s Jen. I have to go.” He hung up without letting Bailey get word out in her own defense. He didn’t need her. He had Jen—and the bond that even divorce didn’t truly sever when the life of a child was at stake.

Her arm dropped limply to her side. She couldn’t think. Her chest hurt as though she’d been dragged across an arena, which she had—twice, but never from trick riding on Charlie. And she never in a million years would have taught that trick to Chloe.

“Uh-oh,” OC said, rolling closer. “What happened?”

“Chloe Zabrinski is on her way to the hospital. Apparently she tried to do the swoop from her horse and fell and was dragged. Paul is blaming me for teaching her the trick.”

“But you didn’t.”

She shook her head. “How could I? I haven’t been on a horse in a year. That’s not the kind of trick you can talk someone through. She’d have to see it demonstrated.”

OC groaned as if stabbed in the gut. “Your video.”

“My what?”

He rubbed his forehead, his gaze not quite reaching hers. “Jack had a video camera back in the day. Big black thing. Cost a fortune. He filmed you practicing on Charlie. When they moved, he ran across his old videos and had them transferred to a DVD. That was his gift to you. I planned to give it to you as soon as the fair got over.”

“That’s nice, but if you’ve got the only copy, how would Chloe see it?”

“I don’t know. He wasn’t making a lot of sense. But he might have said something about YourTube.”

“YouTube,” she said, a cold wave flushing through her veins.

“He probably thought he was doing a good thing. You were really something back then. Fearless.”

It was easy to be fearless when you didn’t have anything to lose. Now, she’d lost everything—and, worse, Paul might lose his precious daughter all because of her. “I have to go.”

“To the hospital?”

“No. Away. It’s the curse. I’m a danger to myself and others. Maybe I can find a deserted island with Wi-Fi and FedEx so I can stay in business, but…”

She grabbed her purse and spun around so fast, in such a panic, she nearly tumbled over her father. His hands closed tight on her upper arms. The more she fought to get free, the more fiercely he held.

“Let go, Dad.”

“Never.”

“I don’t belong here.”

“This wasn’t your fault, Bailey. And I’m not going to let you run away in shame again. You are not to blame for all the bad things that happen in this town. Me? Maybe? But not you.”

It’s not your fault.

How long had she waited for someone to say those words? Her whole life?

A sob escaped, followed by a hurricane of grief. She wept in her father’s arms until her mother, Sage and others rushed over to see what was wrong.

Between hiccups, she told them what she knew. Sage pulled up the video on her phone and showed them.

“My gosh, Bailey, I’d forgotten how amazing you were. No wonder you were crowned Fair Queen.”

She put a hand on her Bailey’s shoulder. “But you were an eighteen-year-old athlete who had trained for this for months, not a ten-year-old with an inexperienced horse trying the trick for the first time without any supervision or help. This is so not your fault.”

Mom nodded. “Sage is right. Paul jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

Because he still thinks of me as a self-centered, reckless girl who didn’t take into account the consequences before she acted.

The truth hurt more than she could comprehend at the moment. It would take time…days…years to process. She’d get past this terrible sadness at some point—just like she had with her other losses, but she didn’t know when. Or how.

She looked at her parents. Her friends. Her community.

Running away and trying to deal with life on her own hadn’t worked out all that great. Maybe this time, she’d stay. She’d build her business, become an active part of Marietta and prove once and for all you couldn’t keep the Jenkins down.

Hopefully, Chloe would be okay. Paul would apologize for blowing up at her when he learned the whole story. But did she want to give her love and trust to a man who yelled first and asked questions later?

The way her father did so often when she was growing up?

She would have liked a storybook ending. She’d almost let herself believe she and Paul deserved one. But one thing Bailey knew from losing Daz and Ross—and the Paul she’d loved in high school—nothing was a given.

Somehow, she had to figure out a way to move on again—without moving.

P
aul rubbed his
face with both hands. His skin felt gritty from the dirt of the arena where he’d dropped to the ground beside his daughter’s lifeless body.

The bile in his throat surged upward as it did every time he remembered Mark’s panic-stricken cry. “Daddy. Dad. Come quick. Chloe fell. She’s not moving.”

Paul, his parents, brother and two friends from work had been sitting in camp chairs beside the trailer at the time. Paul had been considering breaking the news that he was seeing Bailey Jenkins again. Instead, he’d tossed his soda can to the ground and raced to pick up his panic-stricken son.

“Where? What happened?”

“The horse ring.” Mark pointed, his skinny arm shaking like a branch in a high wind. “She was practicing trick riding. L…like Bailey. She fell off Skipper. On her head,” he managed to get out between sobs.

“Dad, call 911.”

Paul passed Mark to Mom. “Stay with Grandma. It’s going to be okay.”

Then he took off running—Austen at his side. “What did he mean trick riding? Has Bailey been teaching Chloe?”

“Every day for the past couple of weeks. Getting her ready for the Western Showmanship.”

“Trick riding is not a sanctioned event. Why would she do that?”

Paul’s mouth went dry as he recalled some of the crazy, fearless stunts Bailey had pulled off when she rode Charlie.

By the time he reached Chloe, a crowd had gathered, including an off-duty paramedic who kept anyone from moving her.

“There’s an ambulance on-site. It’ll be here any minute,” he told Paul. “She probably had the wind knocked out of her when she fell, but she’s breathing now.”

“Thank God she had a helmet on,” Paul said, dropping to his knees beside her.

He’d reached out to touch her, but the paramedic stopped him. “The helmet will protect from a brain injury, but it won’t help a broken neck. That’s why we’re not moving her until we get a back board.”

A broken neck?
The words echoed through his head the whole way to the hospital. Fear made him want to kick a hole in that perfectly innocent waiting room wall. His family kept their distance.

He had a vague memory of yelling at Bailey on the phone, blaming her for what happened. He’d owe her an apology no matter what happened, but he couldn’t think about any of that until he knew for certain his little girl was going to be okay.

Jen came into the room. “I’m still waiting to hear how this happened? Where were you? Why was she alone? Why wasn’t your old girlfriend with her? I knew this would happen when you bought her that goddamn horse, Paul. You and your stupid horse fetish. You’re not a cowboy, okay? You’re never going to be a cowboy? When are you going to give up on that ridiculous dream and sell that stupid farm?”

Jen’s questions and accusations pommeled him. For once he didn’t mind. He deserved the blame. He was the one who bought Skipper. He was the one who brought Bailey back into their lives. If not for him, Chloe probably never would have gone online looking for images of Bailey. She never would have found a video of Bailey’s stunt riding.

“From what Mark said, Chloe was trying to do trick riding.”

“What kind of tricks?”

Paul shook his head. “I don’t know. But I’ve seen riders lean sideways in the saddle and scoop a flag or ring from the ground. Mark said she watched a video on YouTube. I thought Bailey taught her the trick. I was wrong.” He’d accused Bailey unfairly. Mark showed him the video on Chloe’s phone once they reached the waiting room. “She wanted to show off for her friends and thought it would help seal her pick as the top Junior Princess.”

“What is wrong with you people?” Jen screeched. “Who the fuck cares about some stupid fair so much you’d risk your life?” She crossed her arms. “I never understood why you bought that stupid ranch in the first place.”

Because it was Bailey’s home. Because my first time was in the hayloft of that barn. Because I loved her. I still love her.

“Mr. Zabrinski?” a voice said from the doorway. “Your daughter’s back from the MRI. You can see her.”

Paul grabbed Jen’s hand and led her down the hallway to the too-white room with a view of the fairgrounds. Jen elbowed him out of the way to get to her bedside first.

“Chloe? Baby? Are you okay?”

“Mommy?” Chloe’s voice trembled. She appeared to be a little groggy, but at least she was moving. “What happened? The nurse said I fell on my head.”

Paul touched her foot. “Good thing you were wearing a helmet. Can you feel this?”

She giggled and scooted her feet to one side under the thin cotton blanket. “Yes. It tickles. Is Skipper okay? I was leaning over and he stumbled. I let go so he wouldn’t fall on me.”

Jen tried to repress a cry of horror.

Chloe realized her mistake and reached up to reassure her mom. “He wouldn’t have hurt me on purpose, Mommy. He’s been really, really good since I started working with Bailey. She’d be so proud of him. Daddy, tell her this wasn’t Skipper’s fault, okay? I saw that video and had to try. It looked like so easy.”

Paul felt sick again. First, he’d cursed her, and then he’d accused her of something she didn’t do. He’d be damn lucky if she forgave him. Ever.

“Can I go back to the fair, now? I don’t want to miss anything.”

“Absolutely not,” Jen cried. “You’re coming home with me as soon as the hospital releases you.”

Chloe started to cry. “Daddy. No. It was an accident. I’m fine. Tell Mommy I can go back to my horse and the fair. Please, Daddy. Please.”

A part of him wanted Jen to take Chloe back to Bozeman with her to keep her safe. But Bailey was proof that bad things happened—it didn’t matter what part of the country you live in or how careful you were.

“Relax, baby. Calm down. Your mom and I have to talk to the doctors. You’re not going anywhere until they say you can. So, chill for a minute. Your grandma and grandpa and Mark are waiting to see you. Can I send them in?”

She nodded.

He motioned to Jen to follow him. When they were alone, he told her, “The fact is she could have fallen off her scooter in your driveway. Accidents happen. If the doctor gives her the okay, I’d like to take her back to the fair with me.” He held up one hand when she started to protest. “She won’t ride again. I promise. I’ll tell her the doctor said so—and I sort of expect him to say the same thing. But she’s leaving with you in a few days and her cousins are here…”

She frowned but gave in. “Fine. I have a million things to do before we leave. But no more horses. And I still think you should give up this crazy dream of being a cowboy. You’re a businessman. Period.”

He watched her walk away.
No wonder we didn’t work as a couple. She doesn’t know me at all.

Yes, he was a businessman—he loved his family’s store. But, deep down, in the quiet part of his soul nobody ever saw, he was sitting tall in the saddle, riding the open range with his cowgirl at his side. Bailey. Always Bailey.

And, now, he had to find her and try to convince her to trust him, to believe his sincere apology, to give him one more chance to prove he was worthy of being her cowboy.

B
ailey’s heart thumped
as forcefully as when she was barrel racing. Her armpits felt sweaty. And the hand holding the old boot—one that didn’t make the cut for B.Dazzled displays—trembled, making the white and yellow daisies it held dance.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked her mother before Louise could push the doorbell.

“You’ve asked me that ten times. Relax. We’re here to see Chloe, who is undoubtedly bored and upset that she can’t return to the fair.”

The bell ding-donged in the distance.

Bailey had no idea who would open the door. Paul’s mother? One of his sisters? She was pretty sure Paul was at the Fair, where Bailey and Louise had been until ten minutes ago.

Today was Bailey’s morning to open the booth. Traffic was the slowest she’d seen. She’d have taken it personally if all the other booth-owners hadn’t remarked on their lack of sales, as well.

“So, this isn’t because people think I caused a little girl to get hurt?” she asked Sage.

“Don’t be silly. People aren’t stupid. They know you didn’t have anything to do with Chloe’s accident. She’s a kid. Kids do things without thinking. We’re just lucky. It could have turned out much, much worse. Remember Neve Shepherd?”

Everyone of a certain age in Marietta remembered the drowning accident that took the life of the beautiful young teen.

The door opened, but the person greeting them wasn’t Paul’s mother. “Bailey. Mrs. Jenkins. What can I do for you?”

Austen Zabrinski hadn’t changed from the arrogant jerk she’d encountered at the diner a few weeks earlier.