you took me home from the hospital?”
Lane nodded. It had been an ordeal, getting Trevor into the van, getting him comfortable. He’d been tense one moment, a dead weight the next. It had been damn near impossible.
“Getting in that truck was the hardest thing I ever did, but it wasn’t my legs that were the problem,” Trevor said. “It was my head. I thought I was going to die every minute.”
Lane remembered that ride. Trevor had gone so pale he’d almost turned around and taken him back to the hospital. He’d been sure the guy wasn’t ready to cope with real life, but his friend had been fine once they’d pulled into the driveway.
“When I was getting in the truck, I kept seeing the accident. I hadn’t remembered it up to then. But the minute you and that nurse or whatever shoved me in the seat, it was all I could see.” Trevor paused. “That’s how Sarah looked when she tried to get on that horse. I could feel it, just watching her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Girl didn’t know I was looking.” Trevor spun away again. “And I figured she’d find her own way to tell you. Some things just ought to be private, but she needs help. Don’t tell her I told on her, okay?”
Lane stood at the window a minute, watching Sarah. Then he took off through the front door at a run.
Chapter 41
Sarah looked up as Lane jogged past her. He was headed into the barn, probably to do something with the horses. She bent closer to the seat of the saddle she was working on, pretending to be absorbed in the task. A lot of Lane’s tack needed work. He probably couldn’t sit still long enough to take care of it, and it had to be hard for Trevor to handle the saddles.
The ranch really did need help. Over the past few days, she’d seen Trevor’s limitations and realized that while he knew everything there was to know about quarter horses and cattle, he would forever be trapped in a supervisory role. His upper body strength could only go so far in outweighing his disability.
But she obviously had her own disabilities. And it was better for Lane to just think she’d chosen to work for his brother. Someday, he’d figure out she couldn’t ride. It was inevitable. But it was also inevitable that on that day, they’d start to grow apart. Horses and ranch work were Lane’s life. He needed a woman who could work by his side, on horseback and off.
She returned her focus to the saddle, living in the moment, forgetting the past and future as she rubbed oil into the intricate flower designs of a 2008 World Champion Bull Rider prize saddle. Maybe she’d make the tack room her pet project until she started her new job, just lose herself in the quiet work and the warmth of the sun on her skin.
She was definitely absorbed in her work when hoofbeats hit the floor behind her. She turned to see Lane standing at the barn door between two horses. On one side he held a big gray, the gelding she’d tried to mount the other day. In the other hand he held a big red stallion groomed like he was entering a halter class. His coat gleamed like polished copper.
Both horses were fully tacked up and ready to ride.
“What—”
“We’re going for a ride,” Lane said. “Ready?”
“No.” She shook the saddle in her lap. “I’m kind of busy. You let this stuff dry out much more, it’ll start to crack.”
“I don’t care about the saddle,” he said. “Come on.”
“Lane, this is your championship saddle. It shouldn’t even be out here.”
“We can argue about that later. I’ll look forward to it.” He held out the stallion’s reins. “Come on.”
“Lane, I’m… no.”
“Just walk him then.”
She expected him to mount the gray but he walked a little ahead of her, leading her down a dirt two-track that led away from the barn and angled up a slight hill. The grass was dappled with wildflowers on the south-facing slope, and she wished for a moment that she was riding. But even the thought brought back a mental glimpse of hooves pawing the air, a rolling eye, a horse’s mouth drawn back in a terrified grimace. She stopped a moment to recover, but Lane missed the sound of hoofbeats behind him and turned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She drew in a long breath, blew it out again. “I need to sit down.”
“Can