His First Baby Rodeo, page 1
HIS FIRST BABY RODEO
HOLLY RAYNER
CONTENTS
Copyright
1. Mac
2. Mac
3. El
4. El
5. El
6. Mac
7. Mac
8. El
9. Mac
10. El
11. El
12. El
13. Mac
14. El
15. Mac
16. El
17. El
18. Mac
19. El
20. Mac
21. El
22. Mac
23. El
24. Mac
Epilogue
Also by Holly Rayner
Copyright 2023 by Holly Rayner
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.
All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.
CHAPTER 1
MAC
“Are you nervous?”
Mac Palmer offered a smile to the young horse handler standing beside him. The kid couldn’t be older than nineteen. Mac thought it was probably his first rodeo season. At thirty-five himself, Mac was one of the older riders here, and he knew his competition looked at him with a lot of questions, wondering when he might be planning to retire. They were going to have a long time to wait for it. He was just as strong in the sport as he’d been in his mid-twenties and was still one of the top-ranked bronco ricers in the nation.
“I’m not nervous,” he told the kid. “I’ve done this a thousand times.” He was sure the kid must know that. After all, he was Mac Palmer. He didn’t like to be arrogant, but he knew that people had heard of him.
Sure enough, there was awe in the kid’s eyes. “Will you sign something for me before you go out?” he asked. “I know I’m not supposed to disturb you by asking that, and I’m really sorry, but—”
“No, I don’t mind,” Mac said. He knew the low-level employees and volunteers would have been warned to leave the riders alone and not pester them for autographs, but the fact of the matter was that he enjoyed having fans. It was one of his favorite parts of being a rodeo star — he liked the riding, but he also liked being known and looked up to for the daring skills he attempted and the many awards he had won. He liked that this kid thought he was cool. “Do you have a pen or something?”
“Yeah!” The kid pulled a permanent marker out of his pocket. He looked around for a moment, searching for something Mac could sign, and then took off his hat and handed that over. “Maybe across the brim?”
“What’s your name?”
“Eric.”
Mac scrawled an autograph on the hat and handed it back. “I hope you enjoy the competition today, Eric. Are you thinking of riding yourself one day?”
“I don’t know if I could.”
“Hey, not with that attitude. Just be confident and get out there on a horse, learn the skills — you’ll get there one day.” He grinned. It was a fun part of the gig, passing on his experience to the next generation of riders. “I’d better get out there.”
“Good luck!” Eric said. “I guess this hat will be worth a lot if you win the competition today.”
“It might be pretty valuable either way,” Mac said. “After all, this is my return to competition after a whole season away. It’s going to be a big deal.” He was confident in his ability to win the competition, but he also wasn’t banking on it — he was realistic about his chances. He knew he was one of the stronger riders in the competition, but you couldn’t always be on the podium.
Mac strode out into the ring as the announcer called his name, turning in a slow circle so that he could wave to the crowd on all four sides of him. People were shouting for him, and he could hear his name being called. It was intoxicating. He loved the experience of walking out and hearing people cheering for him. He would do this for the rest of his life if he could. The people who had hinted that perhaps it was nearing time for him to retire had no idea what they were talking about, he reflected. He was far from being finished with this part of his life.
The bronc was waiting in the center of the ring, and Mac could see by his eyes that he was a wild one. Good. Mac was always up for a challenge, and on the whole he thought a tougher horse favored him. He offered one last wave to the crowd, then went and stood beside the horse, waiting for his cue to mount.
The first buzzer sounded and Mac swung up onto the bronco’s back. The handlers tightened their grips so the animal wouldn’t break free before the event officially began.
Mac settled into his position on the horse, his muscles engaged, waiting.
The second buzzer sounded and the bronc was released.
Immediately, it was as if someone had thrown a switch and removed the gravity from the world. Fortunately, it was a sensation Mac was used to. Bronco riding always felt like this, and he knew beginning riders could sometimes succumb to a sense of something almost like vertigo and could lose their sense of where they were in the air, which made it that much harder to stay on the horse’s back. Mac was a professional, though. He could stay on horseback all day, no matter how wild the bronco was, and he could certainly manage it long enough to win this competition—
Then he slipped in the saddle.
It was only a minor slip. If he had been riding for pleasure, he could have adjusted his position and gone on without any trouble. But he was moving too quickly, the horse beneath him too wild, and there was no opportunity to correct the mistake. The next time the bronco bucked, Mac felt himself flying through the air.
Then he was on the ground, his body numb, staring up at the stars overhead and listening to the shouts of the crowd around him and the handlers as they closed in on the bronco.
Someone was kneeling beside him. Mac turned his head and saw the face of the rodeo medic, familiar from the sidelines — this man had been standing in the wings of every event, and this was the first time he had had to run into the ring. It was surreal to think that the reason it was happening was because Mac had fallen from his horse. This couldn’t be right. He was Mac Palmer. He was supposed to be the star of this whole event, not lying on the ground while a hush fell over the crowd.
He struggled to sit up.
“Stay down,” the medic said. “You might have a back injury.”
“I don’t,” he huffed, annoyed at the suggestion. “I need to get up and finish the competition.”
“Mr. Palmer, the competition is over,” the medic said. “At least, it is for you. The bronco has been put away. And you know you’re not allowed to get back up on the horse once you’ve been thrown. That’s the way this works. Besides, you might injure yourself worse if you try to continue.”
“I’m not injured.” He couldn’t be injured. He’d thought about his return to the ring all winter long as he had trained and prepared for it. And he’d been prepared to accept that he might not win the competition — though he’d definitely thought his odds were good — but even in his worst imaginings, the ones where he had finished off the podium, it had never gone like this. There had always been pride and respect and the knowledge that he was back at the top of his game, and that the other riders had been put on notice.
He could only imagine what they must be saying about him now, watching him lying in the dirt. He knew the kind of talk that circulated about him. He knew people liked to suggest he was too old for this sport. They were wrong, of course, but they would be looking at him now and justifying everything they’d ever thought about him.
“Let’s get him moved onto the backboard,” a voice said.
Mac flicked his eyes to the right and saw that a team of medics had carried a backboard out into the ring. “No,” he said. “Absolutely not.”
“Mr. Palmer, if you have a back injury—”
“This is ridiculous.” He pushed through the nest of hands trying to hold him down and sat up. He wasn’t going to be carried out of here like some helpless, broken man. He was still Mac Palmer, for God’s sake.
But when he tried to get to his feet, pushing off with a hand on the ground, pain shot through his arm all the way to his shoulder. Gasping, he fell backward.
“Get him on the board,” someone said.
“No,” Mac barked, gritting his teeth through the pain. “Help me up.”
“Mr. Palmer—”
“Damn it, I am walking out of this arena. Now, help me up.”
He heard the sighs of resignation around him, but he knew he’d made it clear by now that he wasn’t leaving on their backboard. He allowed himself to be lifted to his feet.
A roar of applause went up around the arena, but it was small comfort to him.
“I’ll be back for the next event,” he said, as much to himself as to anyone else. “I’ll take it next time.”
“Mr. Palmer, I think your arm is broken,” said the medic who had gotten to him first. “We’re going to need to get you to the hospital, and never mind the next event.”
“I’m fine,” Mac protested.
But he wasn’t fine. He wanted to believe that they were wrong, but it was hard to ign
He did need to go to the hospital, as much as he hated to admit it. This wasn’t going to go away. But maybe there was something they could do for him there that would get him back in competition shape quickly. Maybe there would be some kind of surgery for this. There had to be something — something that would have him ready to compete again. He had spent too long training and anticipating this season for it to be over just like that.
And yet… in the back of his mind, he knew that it wasn’t going to be the way he hoped it would. He’d been around the rodeo circuit long enough, and had seen enough injuries, to know what happened when someone was thrown like this.
It meant the end of his season.
He might be able to come back next season, when he had had time to recuperate. But even if that was true, he would need to go through training all over again. All the work he had done to get ready for this season was going to go to waste, because he would lose all his strength while his injury was tended to.
Mac walked out of the arena, flanked by the medics, half in a state of shock. It couldn’t be ending like this. Tonight was supposed to be his big comeback. Tonight was the night he was going to show everyone that he was ready to compete, that he wasn’t too old, that he didn’t need to retire from the sport. Tonight was about proving himself to everyone who had doubted him.
Instead, he had spent less than five minutes total in the ring. He had failed utterly.
He walked past Eric, who still had the hat Mac had signed in his hands. He was turning it around and around, and it occurred to Mac that the hat probably would be worth something after tonight — if not for the reasons he and Eric had speculated about. This hat had been signed at the rodeo that had seen Mac Palmer injured. There would definitely be stories about it.
He tried not to think about the fact that, just a few minutes ago, he’d been full of hope. The whole thing had come crashing down around his shoulders, and for now, there was simply nothing to be done about it.
CHAPTER 2
MAC
Three days later, his arm in a sling, Mac stood on his ranch and surveyed the land.
He was in over his head. He had no chance at running this place on his own. It was difficult enough to manage the ranch singlehandedly, but with only one good arm? There was no way he could possibly do it. Mac Palmer didn’t like to admit that he needed help with anything, that there was anything he was incapable of, but there had been a lot of that over the past few days.
First he’d had to accept that his rodeo season was over almost before it had even begun. Even as the doctor at the hospital had been setting his arm, it was difficult to believe that he had lost everything so quickly. He had been training for this season, looking forward to it, for months. Now, just like that, it was gone.
But that had only been the beginning. When he’d arrived at home, he had begun the painful process of realizing just how little he was able to do for himself. His first attempt at showering had been an ordeal, and cooking was so difficult that he’d realized it was better to just order takeout every night. That was what he planned on doing tonight — he had been thinking about a hot, cheesy pizza all day — but he also had to come to terms with the fact that he hadn’t been keeping up with his ranch work since his injury, and there was almost no way he could hope to do so. Even making the attempt was foolish, because things would start to fall through the cracks right away.
If only I hadn’t broken my right arm — but no, that was just making excuses. Even if it hadn’t been his dominant arm, he wouldn’t be able to manage the labor on the ranch with only one good hand. Nobody could do that.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit the button to call his old friend Jeff. Even that was difficult with his arm in a sling. This was maddening.
“Hello?” Someone was yelling in the background when Jeff answered, and it took Mac a moment to realize that it was a child’s voice. This was the reason he and Jeff hadn’t seen one another in such a long time. Jeff was a father now, and that fact had driven a wedge between their lives. It just wasn’t possible to maintain the kind of relationship they’d had when they were younger now that Jeff had kids to think about.
Which was fine. People grew apart. Mac had had to deal with losing lots of friendships over the years as people had gotten married, settled down, and started families of their own. Jeff was hardly the first.
“Is this a bad time?” Mac asked.
“No, it’s fine. Why?”
“Sounds like there’s a lot going on over there.”
“Oh, that’s just Phoebe. She’s worked up about something or other.” Phoebe was Jeff’s eldest, Mac recalled. She must be five years old now. It seemed like only yesterday that he had been mailing his friend a cigar to celebrate new fatherhood.
“You don’t need to go check on her? Is Marilyn going to do it?”
“Marilyn’s in bed with the baby. Did we tell you she had the baby? It’s been a while since you and I have talked, I guess.”
“I didn’t realize she was pregnant again,” Mac admitted. He felt guilty for being so out of the loop. There was a time when he would have known everything his friend was going through. There was a time when they had been in regular contact with one another. To think that something so big and important could have happened in Jeff’s life and that Mac could have failed to know about it really brought home to him how far apart they had grown. “How is she? And how’s the baby?”
“Both doing great,” Jeff said. “His name is Jace.” Mac could hear the pride in his friend’s voice. “Listen, I’m sorry we didn’t tell you about it. It’s the third kid, you know, and I guess we’re both just a little less intense about things than we were in the past. We didn’t send out announcements to anyone, there was no baby shower — I don’t know who knows and who doesn’t, to be honest with you. We just kind of let it get around by word of mouth.”
“No, I get it,” Mac said quickly. “You shouldn’t have been worrying about filling me in. You had bigger things on your mind.”
“But it’s good to hear from you,” Jeff said. “Thinking about a trip out to Oklahoma any time soon? We’d love to have you meet the baby.”
“Maybe.” It was impossible to think about traveling anywhere at all right now. “I was actually going to ask if you might think about coming here for a while, truth be told, but I can see it’s not the right time for that.”
“I’m afraid not,” Jeff agreed with a chuckle. “I don’t get a moment’s peace these days. Is everything all right?”
“I had a little problem in my last rodeo.” The realization that Jeff didn’t know about the accident made Mac feel a bit better that he hadn’t known about his friend’s new baby. “I’m going to need some extra help around the ranch. I thought of you because you were the one to come and help me out after I first bought the place — that was a fun year, remember?”
“Yeah, that was great,” Jeff recalled. “That was before I met Marilyn, though. Before any of the kids were born.”
“I know. And I should have realized it wasn’t the same now. I feel bad for even calling you.”
“Well, no, don’t feel bad about that. Maybe we can figure out a way to help you out, even if I can’t come stay with you. What happened, anyway? You said there was some kind of accident. Are you all right?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Mac said. “It’s stupid.” And he recounted what had happened during the rodeo.
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