Free The Cowboy Way by Christine Wenger Page B

“We’ll take good care of Kev. I promise. ” He stressed the last two words. “See you at the flagpole at eight a.m. sharp.”
    She took a deep breath and exhaled, letting her daydream vanish. “’Night. I will hold you to your promise, Jake.”
    He touched his hat. “Good night.”
    She leaned over to give Kevin a kiss, but she saw his eyes dart to Jake and back to her. She got the message: He wasn’t a kid.
    She held out her hand to shake his. “Good night, cowboy.”
    He shook her hand. “’Night, Mom.”
    Jake winked at her, and it loosened the lump in her throat. Her little boy was growing up.
    â€œHave a good time,” she said.
    â€œI sure will,” Kevin said. “Let’s go, Jake!”
    She watched from the porch as Kevin wheeled and Jake walked next to him. Jake had laid a hand on Kevin’s shoulder and, silhouetted in the moonlight, they almost looked like father and son.
    If only things had been different. If only Brad had not been an alcoholic. If only she’d known that he’d relapsed. If only there hadn’t been that awful accident.
    If only she could be sure Jake Dixon didn’t drink.
    If only she didn’t like Jake Dixon so much.
    That admission shocked her, and she filed it in the back of her mind. She didn’t want another man in her life, especially another man who might have a drinking problem.
    An hour later, as she was reading a magazine, she realized that she’d forgotten to pick up a program from the mess hall. Out of habit, she was about to tell Kevin where she was going, but then she remembered that he wasn’t there.
    She stepped into her shoes and walked down the path back to the mess hall. As she passed the corral, she saw Jake talking to his father. In one of Jake’s hands was a clipboard that he was looking at under the glow of an overhead light. In his other hand was a bottle of beer.
    He lifted the beer to his lips and took a long draw.
    Her stomach lurched and a shiver of dread crawled up her spine. Beth kept to the shadows and took the long way back to her cabin, past the boys’ bunkhouse.
    Her guard was back in place.
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    Eight o’clock in the morning came mighty early for Jake, since he didn’t get to bed until about two.
    He had some minor details to work out on both Wheelchair Rodeo and the Challenge, but he was convinced that with a couple of phone calls, he could concentrate on Wheelchair Rodeo.
    He stood in the shower of the ranch house, letting the hot water sluice over him. Maybe it would help his leg and his back and everything else that was aching.
    Mentally, he geared up for the days ahead. There were thirty kids this year and about the same number of cowboys and volunteers. The majority of kids couldn’t ride a horse. On the campout, those kids would ride in a couple of hay wagons in their wheelchairs. Other kids, like Kevin, who had the consent of hisphysician, were okayed to ride on the special saddles he had had custom made with back and side support and safety belts.
    It all required a great deal of training, medical releases, alertness, and a lot of doctors on staff along with EMTs, nurses, cowboys and other volunteers who donated their time. In exchange, he made sure that everyone got front-row seats to the Gold Buckle Challenge.
    Since Beth was a volunteer, she’d be there with Kevin. He liked the fact that she’d see Jake ride in the Challenge.
    But he’d be riding against his doctor’s advice. Dr. Mike Trotter had told him that it wasn’t a good idea—that he should sit it out so he didn’t get injured even worse. But he had to ride at his own event, for heaven’s sake. So he was going to ignore Trot and cowboy up.
    He dressed in a hurry and entered the kitchen, where his mother handed him a cup of steaming coffee. His father nodded at him over the newspaper.
    â€œReady for another year, Jake?” Emily