Whirlwind (The Champions 1)

“I’m looking forward to seeing Clay Jeffords get dumped on his butt in the dirt.”

Tolman’s laughter boomed from deep in his chest. “Let’s hope you’re right,” he said. “But either way, I want you to know I had a hand in it. Jeffords was looking for a challenging bull who could rack up the points. I suggested Whirlwind, so he made the request.”

“I suppose I should thank you,” Tess said coldly. “But Whirlwind still isn’t for sale.”

“I’m not here to talk about Whirlwind,” he said. “I’m here to talk about Shane.”

“For what it’s worth, Shane isn’t for sale, either. You think that just because you’ve got money, you can buy anything—or anyone—you want. But you’re wrong.”

A beat of silence passed before he answered. “You don’t understand, Miss Champion. Shane was a sixteen-year-old runaway when I took him in. I care about him. And now that he’s injured, no one is in a better position to help him than I am.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want your help. Maybe he wants to help himself.”

“But I can get him what he really needs—the best doctors and trainers, the best equipment—”

Tess rose from her seat. “I’m not the one making his decisions, Mr. Tolman. All I did was offer him a job and a place to live. I’m not kicking him out on your say-so. Where Shane goes is entirely up to him. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going down to look after my bull.”

“Go ahead.” His voice rose slightly as she moved toward the stairs. “But think about this. I want what’s best for Shane. Can your sister say the same? Or is she too starry-eyed to care?”

Tess pretended not to hear him as she made her way down to the pens. But the troubling words lingered in her mind like a curse. Lexie in love was a force of nature, sweeping away everything but her own desires. Had she made the best choice, persuading Shane to come to the ranch? Had Shane made the wisest decision in following her there?

Only time would answer those questions. But Tess couldn’t shake the fear of a rough road ahead. If anything went wrong, someone was bound to be hurt.

* * *

Shane had laid out his clothes before going to sleep. Even aided by hand devices made to reach, hold, and pull, the process of putting everything on was maddeningly slow. But he was determined to show up for breakfast ready for the day.

And heaven help Lexie or anyone else who came in and offered to do the job for him.

He’d even managed to make the bed. Changing the sheets and laundering his clothes would have to be done for him at first. But with practice, he might be able to do those things alone. Becoming independent was his first goal. Only then could he think about taking care of someone else.

But he couldn’t ask Lexie to wait—not for a time that might never come.

He rolled his chair down the hall and into the kitchen. The place smelled of coffee, bacon, and something burnt. Lexie, in ragged jeans and a pink tee, was mixing batter for the smoking waffle iron that stood open on the counter. As Shane rolled up to the table, she turned around and smiled—the smile he remembered from waking up to her face on his pillow.

I love you, Lexie. The words that came into his head were as natural as breathing. But he knew better than to say them out loud.

“Sorry about the smell,” she said. “I’ve never made waffles, and I set the iron too hot.”

“It’s all right. I don’t recall anyone ever making me waffles before—except the toaster kind.” He moved to the single place setting, which was evidently for him. “Where is everybody this morning?”

“Ruben’s getting the boys started, and Val’s still in bed. You won’t see her till at least nine o’clock.”

Shane poured himself some coffee from the carafe on the table. “I like your sister,” he said. “She’s not what I expected—the Hollywood star.”

“With Val, what you see is what you get. She was always a rebel, and that hasn’t changed.” Lexie poured batter onto the waffle iron and lowered the lid.

Shane helped himself to a strip of crisp bacon. “So when do I start earning my keep around here?”

“It’ll be up to Tess to put you to work,” Lexie said. “She took Whirlwind to Gallup this weekend, and she won’t be back till tonight. Oh—but she sent me some great news. Last night Whirlwind bucked off Clay Jeffords in five seconds. The buck-off knocked him out of first place in the standings. Jeffords told the reporters he wants another ride. He said that he’s not giving up till he lasts eight seconds on that bull.”

“That’s terrific. Great press for Whirlwind.” Shane gave her a smile as she slid the waffle onto his plate. It hurt even more than he’d expected, that glimpse into the world he’d left behind—the adrenaline rush, the power of that massive animal’s body bucking beneath him, the blast of the whistle telling him he’d won. It all came back with a raw pain that raised a lump in his throat. Never again.

But he would just have to live with that.

He smeared butter on the waffle and poured syrup over the top. “Tess will have a lot to tell us when she gets home,” he said.

“Not that Tess does a lot of talking,” Lexie said. “Meanwhile, if you want, I can show you around the ranch. We can take the ATV. It goes anywhere—oh, and I’ve been checking online. We can order an adaptor kit to add hand controls. Once we get that done, you’ll be able to drive it yourself.”