Cowboy for Keeps (4 page)

“That’s what he thought.” Seth reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “I think this should do it.” He handed a yellow paper to her.

She eyed the page as she took it. It was from a yellow legal pad, and when Amanda opened it there was one sentence scrawled in a bold masculine print across the middle of the page.

If you are up for the challenge, come back and prove it. Wyatt Turner.

Her lip twitched and she held back a smile. No way had she expected an apology. What really startled her was that he’d written exactly what she’d needed…a challenge. She and Wyatt Turner needed the same thing.

Folding the paper again, she looked at the brothers. Giving them an encouraging smile, she took a settling breath. “Okay. I’ll stay. I need to eat and then I’ll head back out there. Will you please tell your brother that I said I was up for the challenge. But—
is he?
”

H
e was waiting on the porch when Amanda got out of her car. In some ways he reminded her of George Strait with his dark hair and square chin. And despite the intensity of his eyes, she thought there was a hint of mischievousness lurking there as he watched her walk up the path. In doing her job, no matter what personal crisis she had going on in her own life, she must be positive and figure out the best way to bring her patient around. Not just physically but also emotionally—she had to be positive and engaging in a way he would respond to.

Somewhere in the background a cow mooed—well, several cows mooed, sounding as if they were heralding her arrival. She halted in front of Wyatt and gave him her best grin. “I’m here for my challenge.” His gaze flickered down her as if assessing her once more and wondering if he’d gone crazy asking her back. The distrust was there as clear as day. Determination sprang through her like a runner out of the starting blocks. She hiked a brow when he said nothing, deciding a little challenge of her own was in order.

“I guess I am, too,” he drawled in a voice she bet jurors found almost hypnotizing in a courtroom.

She had to give him credit, though: his tone was civil for the first time since she’d met him. They could build on that.

“I promise you won’t be sorry. I’ll get results.”

“I’ll make sure you do.”

His words were meant as a warning, but they made her smile widen. “I think we are going to have some fun, Mr. Turner.”

The scowl of earlier returned. “I’m not interested in fun. I want out of this chair and on my own two feet and I want it yesterday.”

She chuckled—not a good thing but unstoppable. He was actually very cute in his state of
irked.
“Then you shall be.
Will
and
want
work together to make things happen. I can just look at you and know you’re going to push your limits every time I ask you to do an exercise. So for now, put your scowl away and relax. I promise you, it’s going to be all right.” She sounded like she was talking to one of her kids. Not dissimilar—teens were just as anxious to be up and about as Wyatt. His impatience was nothing new to her and that was a good thing.

“I know with the pain you’re in you might be worrying whether you’ll ever return to your normal lifestyle. Stop worrying, you’ll be back if you do as I ask.”

“You always this sure of yourself?”

“In this case,
your
case, yes, I am.” Their gazes held and she wanted so badly to tell him again not to worry. But she saw the skepticism alive and well in that look.

She wouldn’t say more for now. He’d think she was patronizing him if she kept on. She’d been watching him for pain and didn’t think it was too bad at the moment, but it was there. With a strained back, cracked hip, along with the tendon and ligature trauma his hip had gone through, the spasms would come and go with a vengeance. Not to mention the constant pain from the damage to his shoulder. She could help with all of that.

Later. “So I guess I’ll put my things up and get settled. Seth and Cole told me the temporary trailer was set up and ready for me. Is it out back somewhere?”

“By the barn. I’ll show you,” he said, his words clipped.

“That would be great.” She turned and headed back to her car, not even considering telling him that she could find it on her own. The last thing he needed was to be treated like he was helpless. There was a ramp that had been built off the side of the old porch and the ground was level all about the house. That top-of-the-line motorized wheelchair would have no trouble maneuvering the landscape. The man exuded energy, even in a wheelchair. It was a miracle that he was alive, though. During the small-engine airplane crash he’d pulled and stressed nearly every muscle, tendon and ligature on the left side of his body. Even the fact that he had no broken bones other than a hairline crack in his hip was yet another miracle. She suspected surviving sitting still on a porch might kill him, though. She completely understood how he was feeling.

Running with the rising sun was more her style. She wondered if he’d run in the mornings prior to the crash. She had a feeling he was a runner, too. One who liked to run outside. Then again, he might be a treadmill runner—too white-collar to run outside…not that that was a bad thing. She just preferred to do her running outside.

“Did you bring much?”

“I have a car full of things. Not all luggage, though.” She laughed. “Most of it I’ll be setting up in the therapy room. But all I want now are my suitcases.” They’d made it to the SUV and he waited, watching her as she opened the glass window and then lowered the tailgate of the SUV. For some reason his watchful eyes made her self-conscious. She tucked her hair behind her ears before she reached for the first suitcase and hefted it to the ground.

Without speaking, he reached with his good arm and took some of the weight from her by grabbing the bottom of the case. “Thanks,” she said, knowing that every little thing he did that was positive would help him move forward.

“You’re welcome,” he said as she grabbed the slightly smaller one. He helped with that one, too. She’d loaded it all up herself and was quite capable of removing all the luggage herself but still she appreciated the fact that Wyatt Turner was—behind his poor manners earlier—a gentleman. This was instinctive on his part. She wondered if his mother had drilled the manners into him as he grew up.

“You’re looking at me like I’ve surprised you,” he said as she shut the tailgate.

Grinning, she stepped out of the way as she lifted it. The movement brought her closer to him than she’d been. “I guess I’m a bit shocked you’re a gentleman,” she answered truthfully.
He’d asked.

His lip actually twitched! “My mom would have skinned me and my brothers alive if we weren’t.”

Bingo.
“I thought so.”

“You’re thinking, otherwise I wouldn’t be?”

“It crossed my mind when you booted me off your property,” she said drily. “And that was after I’d driven three hours to get here—with no lunch!” She looked at him ruefully as she extended the pull arm of the large suitcase and set the overnight bag on top of the big one, fastening them together for transport.

His eyes crinkled around the edges. “I’d apologize—”

“But…”
she drawled slowly. “You wouldn’t mean it.” She knew it was true.

“I did what I thought best at the time.”

“That’s exactly what I thought you did. And that’s why I’m just teasing you.” She winked at him, picked up the smallest suitcase with the hand on the same side as her prosthetic. The action balanced out the weight as she grabbed the handle of the other case and started rolling it behind her across the lawn.

The thing about Wyatt was exactly that—he did what he thought he needed to do. After Seth and Cole had left the diner to return her message to Wyatt, the ladies had told her that he’d pulled out all the stops when it came to finding wives for his two brothers. He’d seen women he thought fit them and made certain they came in contact with each other. It was really sweet! The man was a romantic—who would have thunk it?

It did her broken heart good to know there were men like him in the world looking out for those they loved. It was a very admirable quality in a man. But even if she hadn’t known all of that, she’d already figured out that he was an honorable man just by the way his brothers talked about him.

“You could roll that second one,” he said, driving up beside her. “Or better yet I could carry it.”

She glanced at him. “You don’t need to carry it. You’re absolutely right—I could roll it if I wanted to.”

“But you won’t.”

“I wouldn’t get any kind of workout from rolling it, and besides—” She’d almost said it helped her keep her balance. Instead she said, “I’d be a bit of a hypocrite if I harp on my patients about keeping their strength and agility up and I wasn’t practicing it myself.”

“True,” he mused.

They walked around the old homestead in silence. The large travel trailer came into view and the size startled her.

It was sitting out under a giant oak tree, not far from the low-slung barn. It was huge compared to some she stayed in while on-site. But then again, looking at Wyatt, she wouldn’t put it past the man to have had a double-wide mobile home sitting back here for her. There was just something about him—even if she hadn’t read his profile and didn’t know that the man was worth a bundle—she’d still have the feeling that only the best was good enough for those around him.

“I hope this will do,” he said. “Cole and Seth assured me that your boss said a small one was all you needed.”

“I don’t call this small. Believe me, this is more than enough.” She smiled. “I’ll feel like a queen in there compared to the tiny place I had on the last job. Don’t get me wrong, though, it was great. It was one of those little round jobs that had only room for a bed, a small television and a table for my books. I have to admit taking a shower in a three by three space also occupied by the sink and toilet was a bit of a chore, though.”

He looked aghast. “How long did you do that?”

“Six weeks. I wish it had been longer, but the insurance ran out…” She’d hated leaving. Shawn, the teen, needed more help with his new prosthesis. She was still in contact with him, checking on his progress—or at least she had been until three weeks ago. Joyce was checking on him now and told her he was getting along pretty well, doing everything she’d instructed him to do. She had confidence that he would be fine. He was a totally determined teenager. Just like she’d been. It was the younger kids she’d worried the most about. They needed services longer to acclimate to their prosthetics and she’d hoped—at least she had before she’d walked away—that someday she could do something to help them more. Now she wasn’t sure if she could ever go back to working with young patients.

“You obviously like what you do to put up with that sort of thing that long.”

Wyatt’s words broke into the wandering thoughts. “Oh, I
love
my job.” Even now, moving from children to adults, she did love it. “Not many people can say they are blessed to be where they are in life. I can. Tiny shower stalls and all.” She didn’t add that she’d had to give up the part that she’d once loved the most. No one needed to know that, and that fact still didn’t change her love of her profession. It just altered her reality.

His expression grew troubled. “I know what you mean,” he said, almost under his breath as he looked away, out toward the pastures that stretched from the barn endlessly. Two football-goal-size lines formed between his brows, and his expression darkened. That scowl told her she’d somehow just shot down the little progress they’d just made. The man had actually lightened up for a few moments. It was a glimpse, but nonetheless a start.

Deciding that for now she’d said enough, she opened the door to the trailer and stepped up on the single step. “Thank you for this.” She’d wondered what was roaming around in his head. Something was troubling Wyatt. Maybe it was worry about his injuries. Maybe something more. Helping him with his pain and getting him up and about would help him physically. And mentally, too. “I’ll unpack and get settled. Is there anything you need me to do this evening? I could give you a therapeutic massage to help with that pain.” Therapist plus general factotum was an odd arrangement for her but she was looking forward to it.

He didn’t look at her. “No, we’ll get everything figured out tomorrow.” Unsmiling, he drove his wheelchair back toward the house without further elaboration.

Watching him, Amanda felt his pain. Still, she knew he was going to be all right physically with time.

She wondered if he realized that. He’d almost lost his life in that plane crash. There might be more going on in his head than anyone realized. She said a prayer for him as he rounded the corner and disappeared.

He’d seemed all alone in that moment. As alone as she was.
Don’t let your thoughts go there.
Right. She was here to work, and to get her mind off her own troubles. The last thing she needed to do was empathize so strongly with her client that she let it bring her down. He was counting on her and she wouldn’t fail him.

Glancing about the land that surrounded her, she breathed deeply. It was hot and dry, the reports of drought were increasing and the cool wind that had suddenly started blowing in across the dry grass was a pleasant surprise. Tomorrow she would run and gain every feel-good endorphin that running would give her.

Tomorrow she would begin to prove to Wyatt that he’d been right to hire her.

She realized that she wanted to make him smile—just as she always did her kids. A real smile. Not just a twitch of his lips, but a full-out smile.

And she would. The thought energized her and it gave her yet another purpose for being here.

Tomorrow
would
be a good day.

Bam! Bam-bam-bam.

Amanda woke with a jolt as the entire trailer shuddered. She sat up in bed, glanced at the alarm clock. It was four in the morning and something was ramming her house!
Bam!
It started over. The entire travel trailer shook like she’d just been hit by a earthquake. Scrambling for her yellow flowered housecoat, she yanked it on then glanced out the window above the bed. In the moonlight she saw…hogs?!

Hogs! She was surrounded by wild boars with long, ugly tusks.
“Fifteen,”
she gasped, counting the animals. They were everywhere. Big ones and small ones and every size in between. What was she supposed to do? Did she need to try and wake Wyatt?

She slipped on her sock and then pulled her leg on in a movement that had become as natural as standing. Heading to the door, she peered out the window. There was a light on inside the house. Was Wyatt up? Did he know these animals were out here? Another slammed into the trailer, making her cringe at the thought of dents. Nibbling her lip, she tried to figure out what she needed to do. The porch light came on and she wasn’t sure how that would help since Wyatt was in a wheel-chair, but at least she wasn’t alone out here anymore. Maybe he would call his brothers.