VJ
Well, fiddle fart, as my dad would say. Tommy had scared me to death when I watched him disappear over the edge of the rise.
It wasn’t until we got back to the cabin that I realized I should have left him at the bottom for the few minutes it would have taken me to drive the UTV down to him. I shouldn’t have made him stand, nor should I have moved him. What an i***t I’d been.
I was heartened when he assured me he’d just gotten the wind knocked out of him and he hadn’t broken anything. When I remembered all the body parts he told me he’d broken riding in the rodeo, I had no choice but to believe him. Other than getting kicked and stepped on by dairy cows, I had no experience with broken bones or concussions.
Then I’d embarrassed myself with the comment about his ass. I hadn’t been kid
