Ten minutes later, her father was smiling from ear-to-ear, and Tristan couldn’t believe how long she’d gone on about Bullet. There were certain things she left out, like how he had a little girl with a woman he’d never married, and about them being together at Black Mountain Ranch.
“You say he trained with Buck Bishop?”
Tristan nodded. “He thinks Bullet has a real good shot at regionals, at least.”
Her father’s expression changed. “So, tell me, Tristan, why isn’t Lost Cowboy sponsoring him?”
Now she wished she would’ve told him about the Lost Cowboy story first. If she told him about it now, she’d have to explain why she believed he was lost in the first place. This was getting too complicated, and just like before, if she lied, he’d know it in an instant.
“He has Flying R’s sponsorship.”
Her father raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms.
“Knock, knock,” said a man who Tristan could only guess was the cardiac surgeon based on his white jacket and the fact that he looked to be all of twenty-one years old. His timing was impeccable.
“I’m Dr. Fredericks,” he said, confirming her assumption. He shook her hand and her father’s, and then pulled a stool over as Dr. Perry walked in. She motioned for him to remain seated and leaned against the wall.
Tristan listened as the surgeon explained the differences between the two types of valves, and gave the pros and cons.
“What would you recommend if he were your father?” she asked.
By his reaction, she guessed that wasn’t an appropriate question.
“I can’t answer that,” he told her.
Her father asked a few more questions, and the surgeon excused himself from the room.
“If it were my father, in the shape your father is in,” said Dr. Perry, “I’d go with the bovine valve.”
She explained her reasoning; mainly because her father was so active, having a mechanical valve would significantly restrict the things he was able to do, because he’d be on blood thinners for the rest of his life.
She had taken a seat after Dr. Fredericks left, and now she stood.
“This cardiologist will be taking over your case.” She handed both her and her father business cards. “I’ll stop in and see you from time to time though.”
Tristan could’ve sworn she saw the lady doctor wink at her father before she turned around to leave.
“By the way, that was the only way I could ethically answer your question. If I was your doctor of record, it would’ve been impossible for me to give you a personal opinion.”
Tristan looked at the card. “I hope that isn’t the reason you’re not my father’s cardiologist any longer.”
“No, no.” She smiled. “I have other reasons.”
When the doctor winked again, she knew she wasn’t imagining it.
Tristan fell onto her bed, almost too tired to consider taking off her clothes. How long had it been since she’d slept? It was after ten now, and other than the catnaps she took at her father’s bedside, she hadn’t slept since she was in Colorado.
Tomorrow morning her father was scheduled for several tests in preparation for his surgery, and as long as nothing else presented itself, they’d replace his valve the following morning.
She looked at her phone and scrolled through the text messages she’d received. Other than when he called earlier, she’d only gotten one other message from Bullet.
I’m sure worried about you, his text read.
If she weren’t so far beyond exhausted, she’d call him tonight, but the way she felt, it would have to wait until morning.
“Liv said Tristan’s father needs some kinda heart surgery,” Lyric told Bullet.
“Yeah?” he scowled.