Page 2 of The Cowboy’s Secret Lover

“Hot,” said the older woman. “And woozy.”

“I’m glad you came to the triage trailer. It’s too muggy outside.” The trailer, set near the rear entrance to the arena, was appointed with all the equipment Faith needed to provide first aid to the rodeo-goers—most notably, cold water and an air conditioner.

A blood pressure cuff was wrapped around the woman’s forearm. Faith glanced at the readout. “Your pulse is a little low,” she said to the older woman. “It’s no wonder that you felt lightheaded.”

“I’m feeling much better now,” said the elderly patient with a smile.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Reaching for the woman’s hand, Faith continued, “You just lay here. I’ll get you something to drink.” She opened the mini-fridge and removed a bottle of water. After wiping the sweaty plastic with her thumb, she opened the lid. “There you go.”

The woman took a sip of water, before saying, “I noticed on your ID, it says that you’re a McGregor. Any chance that you’re related to Dick McGregor, the former district attorney here in Bear Creek.”

“I am,” said Faith. “He’s my father.”

“Well, I’ll be. How are your folks?”

It was no wonder that somebody had recognized Faith’s last name. Hadn’t the McGregor clan been a founding family of Bear Creek—at least that was the family lore. In answer to the patient’s question about her parents, Faith said, “Both of them are good—living in Florida.”

“And you stayed here in Texas?”

“Actually,” said Faith. “I work for an agency out of Boston that places medical professionals in practices that need temporary coverage. My Aunt Milly had foot surgery and wasn’t able to drive. It happened at the same time a local nurse was taking maternity leave, so I came back—at least for a few weeks.”

“Don’t you miss having a home?” the woman asked.

Faith didn’t begrudge the elderly patient a few questions. In fact, she’d heard many of them before. With a shake of her head, she said, “I really love living all over the country. It’s exciting to travel, see new places, and meet new people.”

What she’d said was true, but it wasn’t the entire truth. For years, Faith had lived in Dallas and had been married to an attorney. A nasty divorce took her home and she’d taken a single assignment as a way to get out of Texas. One assignment had turned into two, and somehow, seven years had passed.

Today, the irony that she was in Bear Creek again—and worse yet, working at the rodeo—didn’t escape her.

The patient asked, “Can you tell my son that I’m okay?”

“Of course,” said Faith as she stood.

There was also a licensed practical nurse on duty, so Faith knew that the older woman would be well cared for.

Stepping from the cool and dim interior of the trailer was like walking into another world. The sun beat down and heat shimmered off the asphalt in waves. The din from the carnival that surrounded the arena could be heard, even in the isolated spot at the back of the property. An ambulance sat nearby. A set of paramedics played cards, the gurney serving as the table. They looked up as Faith walked past, their faces red and covered in sweat.

“You fellas can take a break in the medical trailer if you want,” she said. “We have lots of water and the air conditioner is running.”

“Thanks,” said one of the men.

Before she could ask about the woman’s son, Faith spotted a middle-aged man in a golf shirt and khaki shorts. He approached and asked, “Are you the doctor?”

Faith always wore a lab coat over her clothes. It cut down on the questions. “I’m a NP,” she said. “Faith McGregor.”

“How’s my momma?” the man asked.

“Your mother’s blood pressure is a little low. I’d like to keep her in observation for the next bit. Then, you need to get her inside. The heat is too much.”

The man nodded. “Understood.”

“Do you have any other questions?”

Before the man could ask anything, the two paramedics ran past Faith. One pushed the stretcher and the other carried a medical bag. “We just got a call,” said the lead paramedic. “A bull rider has been bucked and he’s not getting up.”

“Excuse me,” said Faith to the man. Without another word, she ran after the paramedics. As she focused on her years of training, Faith’s thoughts became like a razor’s edge—sharp and precise.

Rushing through the back door of the arena, she followed the paramedics to the main floor and the ring. Another set of paramedics was already on site. The bull had been corralled and the patient was prone on the ground. From her vantage point, Faith saw nothing more than a male figure, with his knee bent at an unnatural angle.