The quiet of the ranch had been a welcome change, but nature clearly had other plans. After a peaceful morning counting new calves and enjoying the freedom of the trail, the sky turned a bruised, electric purple. I was halfway to the barn when the first crack of lightning spooked Twist. Between the mud and my slick reins, I lost my seat. I felt my left ankle wrench as it caught briefly in the stirrup before I hit the ground with a heavy thud.
By the time I hobbled to the shelter of a thick oak, I was drenched and shivering. Twist was gone, taking my phone and radio with him. I tucked my arms inside my shirt, pulling my hat low against the biting wind, feeling the cold seep into my bones.
Through the curtain of rain, a high-pitched whine cut through the roar of the storm—the unmistakable sound of an ATV. A figure emerged, moving with a purpose that felt instantly familiar. Before I could even attempt to stand on my throbbing ankle, two strong arms wrapped around me. The warmth of his body was an immediate shock to my frozen skin.
"I've got ya," Colt murmured against my hair.
He didn't care that I was a muddy, soaking mess. He shielded me under his heavy poncho, his radio crackling with status updates as he maneuvered us back toward the barn. Once we reached the dry sanctuary of the rafters, he didn't let me struggle. He scooped me up, protecting my head from the downpour as he jogged across the yard to the living quarters of the trailer I'd seen earlier.
The air inside was blissfully warm. He set me down gently, disappearing into the back before returning with a clean, oversized shirt. "It's Cash's, but it'll keep you warm until the rest of the crew gets back up here," he said, his voice steady and grounded.
He knelt at my feet, his hands large and calloused but incredibly gentle. "How about I help you with those boots?"
I managed a small, tired smile as he eased the right one off. When he reached for the left, I couldn't help the hiss of pain that escaped my teeth. "I'll be careful, honey," he promised, his fingers trailing over my socked calf to stabilize the joint as he slid the leather free.
He keyed his radio, reporting a possible sprained ankle and exposure to the rest of the crew. Then, he helped me toward the small bathroom, his hand firm on my waist to keep the weight off my leg.
"Let's get you out of these wet clothes," he said, leaning me against the wall so I could navigate the damp denim. "Make sure everything comes off—I bet even your undergarments are drenched. You need to get dry to get warm."
I closed the door, the heat of the trailer finally starting to chase away the chill, realizing that once again, the "rodeo life" had crashed into my quiet world exactly when I needed it most.