a cabinet, opened a drawer and pulled out a business card he passed to the surgeon. “You could give Binney a call and see if she’s available.”
Layton took out his phone. He punched in a number then handed Rio the card. “Binney, Dr. Layton at City General,” he said into the phone. “Steve Mason tells me you’ve ended your assignment at the Foster ranch.” He listened a moment. “Uh-huh. Well, I’ve a possible new client. A local rodeo cowboy who’s been banged up pretty bad.” Grimacing, the doctor said plainly enough, “Rio McNabb has a stubborn streak a mile wide. I’ve no doubt he’ll be a handful. Before you agree to take the job I recommend dropping by ICU to talk with him. I know Lola swore she’s retired for good, but possibly you can twist her arm to take this one. She’d give back any guff she’s handed.” He listened again. “Okay, I’ll tell him.”
Layton clicked off his phone. “She heard about your accident on the news. Apparently you two went to high school together. Today she works a three-to-eleven shift in our ER, so can swing by around two. That way you can ask any questions you may have.” Finished speaking to Rio, the doctor waited until Rio said grouchily that he’d talk to the nurse, but added that he didn’t recall knowing her. “My ranch hand is older than me. He may know her. I’ll ask him as soon as I get my phone back.”
The two doctors stepped aside as a gray-haired nurse bustled into the room. “I have Mr. McNabb’s pain shot.”
Dr. Layton nodded, then said to Rio, “Either I or Dr. Mason will be back to check your breathing around supper time. This is Nurse Murphy. Do what she says. Say, Murph, Mr. McNabb wants his phone. Is it among his personal effects you’ve put somewhere?”
She went to a cabinet and took out a sack with a list stapled to the front. “Yes, we have his cell. I’ll let him make a call while I record his vitals. This pain med you ordered will send him nighty-night.”
Shrugging at each other the doctors left the room.
Rio took his phone and with some difficulty called JJ Montoya. “JJ, it’s Rio. I’m stuck in City Hospital. Will you ask Rhonda to take you to pick up my truck and camper from the rodeo grounds? I left Tag while I rode.”
“I’m ahead of you, Rio. Rhonda already drove me over there, and I brought your rig home.”
“You did? Is Tagalong okay?” Rio had been worried about the ginger-colored stray dog that had found him a couple of years ago in the Mesquite Rodeo parking lot. His vet had called the stray an Australian Labradoodle. To Rio the big mutt was simply a great companion on lonely treks between rodeos.
“Tag’s fine. How are you?”
“Docs say I’m pretty stove-up, JJ.” He listed the injuries Layton had named. “Say, will you check on the bronc that dumped me into the fence? His name’s Diablo Colorado. He’s from Weldon Walker’s rodeo string.”
“I ran into Colton Brooks. He said a vet checked the horse. He may have fared better than you. Only had a few scrapes.”
“I’m thankful he didn’t break a leg and have to be put down. Not that I envy the next rider who draws him,” Rio mumbled. “But this was his first rodeo. You know, JJ, I’d decided that ride would be my last in the PRCA. The surgeon says it’ll likely be my last bronc ride anywhere.”
“What do doctors know about cowboy grit? You’ve been banged up before and have healed fine.”
“I hope you’re right and he’s wrong.” He glanced up at the nurse who had finished recording his temperature and pulse. “Listen, there’s a nurse here with pain medication, and I’m starting to think I should take it. I’m, uh, not going to be able to help wean and train our young stock the rest of this year. We can talk about hiring you part-time help once I’m home.” The two men signed off and Rio let the phone fall to his side. That was when he realized he’d forgotten to ask if JJ knew a Binney Taylor.
“I’ll set the phone on your tray table,” Nurse Murphy said. After doing so she took the cap off a syringe, swabbed Rio’s upper arm and administered the drug.
“Don’t they have pain pills? I hate sh-shlots,” he muttered. But clearly his ability to speak was already compromised.
* * *
AT TWO O’CLOCK, after donning a sterile gown, booties and gloves, Binney Taylor entered the ICU room where Rio McNabb lay trussed up like a Christmas goose. She could hear the soft whiffle of a snore indicating her arrival hadn’t wakened him. And that was good. It gave her time to collect her thoughts at seeing him in person again.
In high school the popular and handsome McNabb twins were crushed on by every girl in school, including her. As someone who didn’t travel in their sphere, she’d been particularly drawn to Ryder McNabb and had loved him from afar. Then in her junior year, Ryder had asked her to the spring dance. Beyond thrilled she’d borrowed a nice dress and then spent money she didn’t have to spare on having her hair done. And she’d arranged for a night off from her after-school job. Ryder never showed up to collect her at the group home. Nor had he called. Later it’d been cruelly pointed out by mean girls at school that he’d taken Samantha Walker to the dance. He had never bothered to apologize, and the rejection lingered until she got to nursing school, where in time she’d learned to value her self-worth.
She hadn’t run into either twin since they graduated from high school the year before her. She knew they were both following the rodeo. As she gazed at Rio, she was transported back to a time when the very thought of administering care to either of the hot, popular twins would’ve left her feeling awkward. Now Rio McNabb was just another unlucky cowboy in need of nursing.
Binney opened his computer chart with her access card. Reading over the many injuries diagnosed in ER, her empathy for him grew. His recovery was going to be arduous. It was easy to see why Dr. Layton thought she might hesitate being stuck on such a remote ranch, forced to ride herd on someone the surgeon had indicated could be cantankerous. But she was well trained and good nurses handled all types of grumpy patients.
She closed out of his record, and glanced up to find the patient in question studying her with serious gray eyes.
“If you’re here to deliver another shot for pain, forget it. I don’t like how they knock me out. I can’t recover if all I do is sleep my life away. And tell that hospital advocate who came by to say I need to book an ambulance to take me home next Saturday, and rent a hospital bed for a month or so, that the wrangler who works for me will collect me in his pickup. No one’s gonna turn me into an invalid.”
“Actually, I’m not on your nursing team. Dr. Layton said he told you I’d drop by around two today so we could talk about your home care. I’m Binney Taylor, a private duty nurse. I see you don’t remember me. We attended the same high school. You and your brother graduated a year prior to me.”
“You’re a home nurse? You look so young,” he blurted. “Layton said we went to the same high school, but I assumed he meant you went there years before me.”
“I believe age is just a number. But if you have questions as to whether or not I’m competent,” she said testily, “I can provide you with references.”
“Sorry. I suppose you’re capable. High school was a long time ago for both of us. To be truthful, I don’t remember you.” He closed his eyes. “The shots they give me mess with my head. I wake up fuzzy. I don’t like it, not thinking clearly, I mean.”
Frankly it irritated
