A Bull Rider's Pride. Amanda Renee

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      Determined to complete two sets, he refused to stop. Abby would physically have to block him this time. After another three crunches, Brady was surprised she still hadn’t said a word. Grunting, he opened his eyes and saw two tiny red-and-black sneakers. His heart lifted. Slowly, he eased the weight plates down as his son eagerly danced in front of him.

      “Surprise, Daddy!”

      Brady unfastened his fingerless gloves and tugged them off. “Come here, little man.” He slowly slid his feet out from under the pads and lifted his son into his arms. It was the first time since the accident that he’d held his son from somewhere other than a hospital bed or a wheelchair. It was a simple pleasure he wanted to enjoy for as long as he could. “I thought you were working today,” Brady said to Alice.

      “Rebecca wanted tonight off so we traded shifts. Mom said she would watch Gunner. Since I had the day off, I thought we’d bring you your mail and see how you were doing.”

      “Be careful when you head home tonight.” Brady hated when Alice worked the late shift at the emergency call center. Granted the police department was in the same building, but it wasn’t located in the safest part of town. “How did you know where to find me?”

      “The tiny blonde physical therapist said you sneak in here every morning when you think no one’s looking.”

      So much for getting away with an unsupervised workout this morning. It was a nice move on Abby’s part. She didn’t have to put an end to his routine today. She’d had his son do it instead. That was okay... Gunner was a welcome interruption. “Mmm. What’s that smell?” Brady sniffed the air.

      “We brought you bre-fast, Daddy,” Gunner said. “All your fav-rits. Show him, Mommy.”

      Alice held up a bag she had hidden behind her. “We stopped in town on the way here. Care to join us?”

      Brady’s stomach began to growl. “Most definitely.” He eased Gunner onto his feet and gave him a playful poke so he would move out of the way. Alice reached for the boy’s hand, leading him away from the equipment. While his son’s back was still turned, Brady took the opportunity to stand and maneuver into his chair, consciously aware Alice was watching his every move.

      “Wow,” she said. “You’re doing so much better than the last time I saw you.”

      Brady released the brake and grumbled a thanks before wheeling to the door. He was grateful for Alice and her support even though he knew how much she wanted him to retire from bull riding. As much as he respected her concerns, he wished his recovery hadn’t come as such a surprise. He’d made it clear to her and anyone else who’d listen that he’d beat this. Alice hadn’t quite grasped that concept yet.

      They feasted on pancakes, sausage and eggs at one of the picnic tables facing the rolling hills of the Bridle Dance Ranch. The view from his ten-acre ranch paled in comparison but it was home and he missed it. Brady’s father had taken his horses while he recuperated. That had been his father’s choice of words. It made it sound so simple, as if he had the flu. But they both knew it would probably be months until he was able to care for them on his own again. Months was tolerable, forever wasn’t. Despite his improvement, the more he spoke about getting back to his old life, the more people downplayed his career and told him either to take it easy or not to get his hopes up. Everyone except Gunner. Through Gunner’s eyes, anything and everything was possible.

      “You’re thinking about home, aren’t you?” Alice asked as she gathered their take-out containers and stuffed them into a paper sack. “You’ll be there before you know it and then you can decide what you want to do next.”

      Brady wiped his mouth on a napkin before crumpling it. “I already know what I’m going to do next. So do you.”

      They watched Gunner waving to the horses near the corral fence. “I refuse to even entertain that idea. You’re out of the hospital and it’s time for you to get your priorities straight.”

      “They are straight.” Brady kept his voice down so Gunner wouldn’t overhear them. “This is who I am, who I’ve always been. You’ve known me forever, know how much I love rodeo. I won’t stop competing till I’ve won the World All-Around Champion Cowboy title at the National Finals Rodeo in Las Vegas. I can’t possibly win this year, but just you watch—I will win. Until then, the money will pay the bills and keep me from losing my ranch.”

      “What about the fund-raiser your dad set up?” Alice asked.

      Brady cringed. He’d been humiliated when he discovered his father had pleaded for donations on social media. His sponsors, family and friends had all chipped in, but it still wasn’t close to the amount he needed. “I know Dad meant well, but I wish he hadn’t done that.”

      “Are you mad that I contacted some of the relief funds designated to help injured rodeo competitors? Because if you are, you need to stop being modest and accept the help people are offering you.”

      “Those funds are meant for people with serious injuries.”

      “Brady, get it through your head.” Alice grabbed his hands and squeezed. “I know you’re feeling better and think you can take on the world, but this was a serious injury. You need to watch the video of your accident and see what happened to you.”

      Brady shook his head. He had refused to watch the footage the first ten times Alice had brought it up because he feared it would deter him from ever riding again. That was a fear he wasn’t willing to face.

      “Even with Dad’s fund-raising, my health insurance and everything else, it still only amounts to a fraction of what I owe. It’s not like I can get a second mortgage on my house. I don’t have any equity in it yet. All I have is my job—my career. I need to be able to live—I need to be able to support Gunner. And even if money wasn’t a factor, I’d still want to compete again.”

      Alice released his hands and waved him off dismissively. “Bull riding isn’t an option and most likely it won’t be ever again. Switch to one of the timed events, like roping or steer wrestling. At least it’s safer. It terrifies me that this place is connected to a rodeo school. Haven’t you heard one word the doctors have told you?”

      “They don’t know my body the way I do. I’m a bull rider. It’s who I am. I need to compete in two events to qualify in the All-Around Cowboy category. That’s where the money is. I’ve always competed in roughstock and I’m not changing now. Even if I wanted to, it’s not like changing your shoes. We spend a lifetime training for our events.” He raked his fingers through his hair, wishing he had his Stetson. He made a mental note to remind his father to bring it during his next visit. He felt vulnerable enough in his wheelchair—he hated feeling naked without his hat.

      “I’d say they know your body better than you after all those surgeries,” Alice hissed. “How many was it?”

      “That’s beside the point.” Brady backed away from the table. “Thank you for breakfast, but I have to get to therapy.”

      For a moment, she appeared as if she might continue their argument. “I thought maybe Gunner and I could hang around here today. He really misses you, Brady. You’re not in therapy all day, are you?”

      “No, I’m not. I get numerous breaks throughout the day. I miss him too, but please do me a favor—keep him away from my physical therapy. I don’t want him to see me like that.”

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