Bile rose in Seth’s throat as he recalled the orthopedic surgeon’s dire prognosis after hours of intensive surgery.
“I’m optimistic you’ll be able to walk without a limp again, in time.”
Walk again? Of course, he’d walk again!
“Cut to the chase, Dr. Tandy. When can I get back on a bull?”
“Bull riding? No.”
Bull riding, yes! It was all Seth knew. All he loved. “I’ve got to ride, Doc.”
“Is it worth the risk? You could do permanent damage.”
If it wasn’t worth the risk, I never would have climbed on the back of a bull the first time.
“Come on, Doc,” Seth had countered, refusing to accept his fate. “Guys ride after breaking a leg. No big deal.”
“The bone twisted apart in three separate places. If you injure it again…” He’d shaken his head and turned away from the hospital bed, writing on his chart. “Do yourself a favor, Seth. Find another career.”
Seth made himself stop thinking about that. He grabbed his gear bag, went out to his truck and headed to the gym.
THAT EVENING, Libby brought home food from the local café. Seth didn’t say so, but the fried fish, coleslaw and beans were a welcome change from the casserole he’d eaten for three days straight now.
“How did your workout go?” she asked.
Her sincere interest made him feel guilty. Her eyes searched his face and she shook her head, making her short blond hair bounce. “Not so well, huh?”
“I didn’t go today.” He wouldn’t admit that he had driven all the way to Bozeman, only to take in a movie and drive home again.
“Seth, you can’t do that! You have to be consistent with your rehab or you’re never going to make progress.”
“So what? Doc Tandy says I’ll never ride again, anyway.”
“Maybe not, but you’ll do something else, and you’ll want to be healed.”
Libby must have seen despair on his face, because she changed to that firm older-sister voice she always used when he was hurt. “It’s going to take awhile. There’s no overnight fix and you have to have patience. Grab a couple of plates, okay? I’m starving.”
Seth limped to the cabinet, laying napkins and utensils on the table, as well. “Patience,” he griped. “You sound like Doc. If I hear that word one more time, I’m going to blow. And patience for what, if I can’t ride?”
Libby began to eat, her face set in a worried frown. Maybe, Seth thought, he needed to move out, get away from his sister so she wouldn’t feel so…burdened, and he wouldn’t feel so guilty. The problem was, he’d sublet his apartment in Billings for the summer—a decision he now regretted.
“You’re not going to ride bulls again,” Libby said at last, “and you might as well accept it.”
“I don’t accept it!” Seth retorted. “And I don’t intend to.”
Libby put down her fork. “You know, changing your attitude might help a little.”
“My attitude will change when I see progress.”
The two of them ate in silence for a while. When Libby took her empty plate to the counter, she said, “Well, you can’t just lie around this house all summer. You’ll only get more depressed and down on yourself.”
Seth followed her to the sink, where she began to wash the dishes. “Are you kicking me out?” he asked.
She handed him a plate to dry. “You know I’d never do that. But I want you to do me a big favor. I want you to help out a friend of mine this summer.”
“Doing what?” Seth asked skeptically. He leaned against the counter, shifting his weight off his sore leg while he dried. “You know I can’t work on a ranch with this useless leg and that’s about all I know how to do. Besides, I have enough saved up to get by until I can ride again. If you need more rent I can pay it.”
“Certainly not. You’re welcome to stay here for free for as long as you want to—you’re the one who insists on paying room and board.” Libby finished the dishes and pulled the plug, letting the water flow down the drain. “I just hate to see you so low. If you had some sort of job, I think you’d feel better, and Claire is in a real bind.”
“I’ll feel better when I can ride a bull again.” Seth dried the last glass and set it in the cabinet. He handed the dish towel to Libby and she spread it across the double sink divider to dry.
“You’re being stubborn.”
“As always.” He managed a grin. “What’s the deal with your friend?”
“Claire’s the nicest person—and really pretty.”
Seth straightened and gave his sister a warning look. “Do not try to play matchmaker.”
She jammed her hands on her hips. “I’m not playing matchmaker. Claire just happens to be pretty, and she really needs help. She has a camp for at-risk youth starting next week at the Rider ranch, and the guy she’d hired to be in charge of the boys quit today. If she doesn’t have a full-time male counselor in place by early next week, they can’t come to camp.”
“Stop right there. I’m not babysitting a bunch of rotten kids all summer.”
“This isn’t babysitting. These teenagers need help, and Claire’s willing to provide it. She’s worked for three years to get a camp started, and has finally succeeded. Then Barry—he’s the assistant principal at school, who was going to help her this summer—he got a great job offer out of the blue, a position that starts immediately. He quit on her today and she’s afraid she’ll never find a replacement in time.”
“Nice guy.” Seth shrugged a shoulder. “But I don’t have the experience.”
“No, but you’re good with kids. And you could use something to occupy your time this summer.”
“I’m good with little kids—and teenage girls,” he said.
“Seth!”
He grinned again. “You know what I mean. Signing autographs and paying them a little attention, that’s all.”
Libby sighed in exasperation. “Anyway, Claire is concerned about one boy in particular. Micah Abbott. He’s been in a lot of trouble this year. If he can’t attend Claire’s camp, accomplish the work there, he won’t be allowed back in school next year.”
“So what’s the problem with this Micah? Sounds like he needs more than a slap on the back and an autograph. And that’s about my limit.”
“I don’t know much about him other than he has a bad home life. Claire’s camp is his last hope.”
Seth had never minded assisting somebody in need—changing a flat tire or lending a buddy a few bucks. But spending his summer herding a bunch of teenagers was a bigger commitment than he was willing to make. “Libby, I wish I could help your friend out, but I don’t think I fit the bill for what she needs.”
“Would you at least go talk to Claire? Maybe you could just fill in for a few days to give her time to find somebody permanent.”
“I’ll think about it, okay?”
“Okay, but don’t think too long. She needs help fast.” Libby’s voice held a rare edge of irritation. “And you could do this one favor for me. After all, I did you one, letting