One Southern Cowboy - Jennifer Youngblood Page 0,26
he replied easily, “I peaked in high school.”
She giggled in short bursts, her shoulders shaking. “Okay, stop. You’re making me laugh too much. I can’t hold you up.”
He grinned, liking that he’d amused her.
She gave him a speculative look. “So, tell me about your riding.”
Now that the sun had set, the air had gotten colder. Jaxson moved even closer to Lemon, grateful for her warmth. He knew what she was doing—diverting his attention from the pain. It was working … somewhat. When they got back to the house, he planned to take some ibuprofen. He needed to prop up his ankle and ice it. Steaks and all the fixings might’ve been too ambitious of a task for this evening. Maybe he’d suggest that they order a pizza instead. “What do you wanna know?”
“What exactly is bronco riding? At the hospital, I could tell that your parents were bent out of shape about it. Is it dangerous?”
He detected concern in her voice. It was nice that she cared. Most of the girls he dated were fascinated by the danger of the sport. Few, if any, had ever expressed concern about what the fallout could be. “Yeah, it can get a bit gnarly.”
“Tell me about it,” she prompted.
“Basically, you get on a bronco. It charges through the gate and bucks like crazy. You have to hold on for eight seconds, until the whistle blows.”
“It sounds like bull riding.”
“It is similar, that’s for sure. With bull riding, you can keep your feet in the stirrups. With broncos, your feet have to stay up.”
She gave him a look of concern. “That sounds horrible.”
“It’s a wild ride,” he admitted.
Her voice shot up an octave. “Why in the world would you ever want to do that?”
He chuckled, thinking she sounded a lot like Mama. “Few things can compare to the adrenaline rush.” He gave her a sidelong look, a corner of his lip lifting. “The only thing that even comes close are those dull, boring kisses we shared this morning.”
Her cheeks went rosy as she rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
They went a few paces in comfortable silence. His mind churned, wondering if he should bring up a certain topic. He decided to take the plunge. “An interesting thing happened at the most recent rodeo I went to.”
“Oh, yeah?”
He could tell from her tone that she had no idea what he was talking about. He swallowed, plowing ahead. “Right after I rode, I looked up at the stands and thought I saw you.”
She stopped in her tracks, turning to face him. “Really?”
He nodded. “At first, I thought I must’ve imagined it … that it was a trick of the light.” He paused. “Now, considering everything that has happened, I think it really was you.”
“I—I don’t know what to say.” Her brows bunched in concentration. “Do you think I was there to see you?”
“I haven’t the foggiest.”
She tipped her head. “When was the rodeo?”
“About three weeks ago.”
“Wow,” she uttered, “this whole thing keeps getting stranger and stranger.” She took in a deep breath. “I guess we’ll have to revisit this topic when I get my memory back. That’s the only way I’ll be able to tell you why I was there.”
They continued walking. A few blessed minutes later, the house came into view. “Hallelujah!” Jaxson exclaimed. “Almost there.”
“You are one tough cookie,” she said admiringly. “But even tough cookies need their rest. You need to get off your feet.”
“I agree,” he said heartily.
Jaxson breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the bottom of the steps leading to his front door.
Lemon had been holding one crutch as she helped him walk. She reached for the other one. “I’ll put these in the house and then come back and help you up the stairs.”
“My angel,” he said proclaimed.
She chuckled, regret moving over her beautiful features. “It’s the least I can do, since I’m the cause of your predicament.”
“Stop beating yourself up, it was an accident.”
“I know.” She offered a contrite smile before motioning toward the door with her head. “Be right back.” She went up the steps with a cadence so nimble that Jaxson couldn’t help but feel a little envious. His head was starting to swim, a dull pain shooting across the bridge of his nose. He leaned against the handrail to support his weight. Lemon had just returned when he heard the hum of a car engine—a sports-car. Clutching onto the handrail, Jaxson turned to look. His heart dropped when he saw the red Miata. His distress must’ve