Embattled Home (12 page)

H
is mother was
ecstatic to see him again, though she was disappointed he was the only visitor. He stayed long enough to catch up with family gossip and to try to impress upon her that he didn’t want anyone to know he was at the ranch, but he didn’t think she got the message.

“But surely you wanna see Tara Johnson? She married that Clapper boy for a while but it didn’t work out.”

Chad cringed at the thought of the heavy cloud of perfume that followed Tara wherever she went. She’d been one of the worst when he’d come home to recover after he’d gotten out of the hospital. And while she seemed to have a heart of gold, she’d been so pitying toward him that it had turned his stomach.

“Mama, I appreciate that you want me to reconnect with people around here, but I’m down here for work. I’m protecting a woman from her abusive ex, and that ex can’t have any whiff that she’s here, or he’ll come down after her.”

His mother frowned. “Tara Johnson does not know this woman’s husband, so how would he know?”

Chad could only shake his head at his mother’s stubborn streak.

“Don’t call her, Mama.”

He allowed a little of his sergeant’s voice to come out and she seemed a little startled. Before she could recover, he stood up from the table. “I’m going out to the barn to see Dad. Hey, do any of the grandbabies have any spare clothes around? Lora and Mercy only brought a few changes of things. And maybe some boots?”

Mama stood up, a smile creasing her face. “I have just the thing. I always keep clothes here.”

Chad knew she did. The Lowell homestead was the hub of the family. He’d be surprised if he didn’t see one of his brothers or sisters today. And it seemed like there were always kids around.

“I’ll be back in after I talk to Dad.”

But his mother had already disappeared down the long hallway of the house.

His father was in the main barn, as Chad had expected. His older brother Brock was there as well, bent over the rear hock of a sorrel gelding tied in crossties. The horse had cut his hoof just above the coronary band and Brock was bandaging the wound. He glanced up when Chad walked in, but didn’t stop what he was doing.

“Hey, Dad. Brock.”

“Chad.”

He stood quietly beside his dad, absorbing the relaxed atmosphere inside the barn. Horses chewed hay in their stalls, or hung their heads lazily over the stall doors. He could fee the tension easing out of his body.

They watched Brock finish wrapping the foot, then stand up. Chad felt the drag of Brock’s eyes as he surveyed him up and down, lingering on his legs.

“Pretty boots. How you doin’, little brother?”

Chad cringed at the derision he heard in Brock’s voice. “Fine, Broccoli. How are you doing?”

Red flushed the big man’s face and he took a step toward him, tipping his cream-colored hat back with one finger, but Garrett held his hand up. “Don’t start bickering already. You’re grown men. You need to act like it.”

Brock gathered up the materials he’d used on the horse and turned away.

Chad followed his dad as he walked beyond the horse to the other end of the barn.

“Why do you antagonize him?”

“Me?” Chad stared at his father incredulously. “Are you serious?”

Garrett shook his head. “I don’t know why the two of you can’t get along anymore.”

With a sigh, Chad leaned against the side of the barn. “If you ever figure it out let me know, would you? I’ve been wondering for years.”

And he had been. When they’d been kids, he and Brock had hung out a lot. Chad had had a serious case of hero worship for his big brother, and Brock had seemed to enjoy the attention. Chad had known early on that it would be Brock taking over the ranch one day, so he’d looked for other options. He’d joined the Marines and the family had been overjoyed. Brock had been too. After he’d been injured, something had changed. Brock had closed off, becoming surly and difficult. He’d been the most irritating part about visiting home.

Well, the women had been the worst part. But Brock had been the second worst.

“So, how’s the business been? Guard anybody interesting lately?”

Chad grinned at his father’s question. He always asked the same thing. “Nah. Nobody you’d know. People like Lora and Mercy.”

Grinning, his father removed his hat long enough to swipe a hand over his head, smoothing the still thick gray hair. “That little one is going to be a handful. I think she could talk the horns off a bull, if you know what I mean.” He plopped his hat back on his head.

Laughing, he agreed with his father’s assessment of Mercy. “She is a sweetie. I don’t think her mother realizes how sharp she is.”

Garrett laughed. “She will!”

They laughed together like Chad had never left and it made him happy. The guys at LNF were great friends, but there was no replacing actual family. It had been months since he’d seen his mom and dad and he’d missed them.

“I thought I’d take a few horses up to the house, if you didn’t mind. It’s a little easier to get around that hill on horseback than foot.”

“It is. I’ve got some I can send you. That little one might want to try out old Taco, too.”

He and Dad were too much alike. “I thought so, too. I was going to ask if I could take him along.”

Garrett nodded. “The old boy needs the exercise.”

Within a half hour, he’d loaded two horses and a scruffy pony, as well as their tack and a couple bags of feed. Chad shifted the truck into gear and listened to the pull on the motor as he left the barn lot. He slowed down on the rutted path up to the house, and when he pulled in front of the house, Mercy stopped swinging long enough to come over and see what he was doing. Chad crooked a finger at her as he unlocked the rear gate of the trailer.

Taco was the last to be loaded, so he was at the rear. Chad untied the lead line and tugged the old guy down to the ground. Mercy gasped at the sight of the little reddish-brown horse with the white blaze and crept forward cautiously, but stopped several feet away. Taco reached his muzzle out to her, asking for attention, but Mercy curled her hands away carefully. Going down to one knee, Chad held his hand out to her.

“This is Taco. He’s been on the ranch for many years. I rode him when I was little.”

Mercy’s green eyes, so brilliant in the clear day, widened dramatically. “Really?”

Chad nodded. “A couple of my sisters did too. All the little kids that come to the ranch have been Taco’s buddy. He loves little kids. I thought he would be a good friend for you while we’re here.”

Mercy stepped forward but leaned in toward him for protection. Chad wrapped his arm around her.

“Let me see your hand.”

She held it out and he spread her fingers, placing a peppermint from his pocket on her flat palm.

“Hold your fingers completely flat like that, then hold the candy out.”

She did as he told her and the pony stole the treat. Mercy giggled and held her hand out to Chad for another, but he shook his head. “No, he just gets one treat at a time. Look how round his belly is.”

Mercy laughed and burrowed into his hold as Taco took a step toward her. The old pony reached out his muzzle and Chad showed the little girl how to stroke his nose and the side of his neck. Once she realized the animal wasn’t going to hurt her, Mercy stepped out of the circle of his arms and moved around. Chad gave her a quick course on animal safety.

“If you’re good maybe your mom will let you ride him. I brought his saddle.”

Mercy stopped and looked at him, her big eyes filling with tears before she bolted up the porch to her mother. Lora knelt down beside her and wrapped the sobbing girl in her arms before carrying her inside.

Chad was shocked at the sudden turnaround and didn’t understand what he’d said that had upset the little one. He’d have to talk to Lora after Mercy had calmed down.

Had the thought of riding Taco scared her? That had not been his intention at all.

He unloaded the horses and settled them into the barn. Hefting a fifty-pound bag of sweet feed over his shoulder, he made sure to plant his feet securely as he carried the bag into the tack room. When he turned for the second bag, Harper stood behind him, bag draped over his shoulder as though it were a towel. He handed the bag to Chad with one hand, his right hand never leaving the menacing sniper rifle he carried.

Chad grinned at him. “Find anything interesting?”

Harper scowled. “Cows and brush, interspersed with big boulders good for cover. And the occasional pine tree.”

Sounded about right.

“I found a good spotting location up on top. I’m going to hang out up there for a while. Just came down for a radio.”

Chad nodded. “Take one from the kitchen. Flynn set them up.”

With a single nod, the former sniper headed for the house, weapon at his side.

Chad unloaded the rest of the tack from the truck to the tack room. By the time he was done, his leg was aching from carrying the unfamiliar weight. He’d also strained his hand when one of the saddles slipped from his grip. He should have just let the thing fall to the ground, but he made a grab with his bad hand. The fragile skin at the bend of his wrist had torn and now dripped blood to the ground.

As he walked into the house, he caught Rachel’s eye as she came around from the back of the house. “I’m going to go crash for a couple hours. Flynn is supposed to be sleeping now, but he’s up if you need anything.”

“Roger,” she said with a nod.

Her gaze caught the blood dripping from his hand but she didn’t say anything.

Smart woman.

Flynn sat at the table, pretending to be absorbed in the movie on the screen of his tablet. The reassembled sidearm was now on his hip. Chad had seen his eyes dart to the door, then back. The man was aware of everything that went on around him.

Chad repeated the same message he had to Rachel and headed down the hallway. Lora and Mercy had the master bedroom with the attached bathroom, so he stepped into the one in the hallway. He washed his hands and blotted at the seeping skin on his wrist. Rummaging beneath the sink, he found an assortment of first aid products.

Running cold water over the skin break, he let it soak for several long moments before turning off the tap and blotting it dry. He hadn’t been moisturizing it the way he should have been. The stretches were easy, he could do them anywhere anytime. It had become habit to just prop his arm against a doorjamb or wall and lean. But getting a bottle of lotion out just wasn’t convenient. Even when he had the time he didn’t always think about it.

The bleeding had stopped by the time he quit blotting it, but he kept the cloth against his wrist. He needed a shower before he bandaged it.

As he shifted his weight, his lower leg pinched. If felt like he had a raw spot in there. Leaving the bathroom long enough to grab a pair of sweat pants, he headed back into the bathroom.

This bathroom wasn’t set up for ‘combat modified’, but he could make it work. Twisting the knobs on the shower, he warmed the water. Stripping off his clothes, he closed the lid on the commode and sat. When he tugged the prosthetic from the stump of his lower leg, it seemed to take a heavy breath. He rolled the fabric sleeve down and off and surveyed the blotchy red skin. Damn. He’d definitely left it on too long. Swinging his legs into the shower, he stood carefully, conscious that if he fell, he’d have people banging at his door in no time. He snapped the shower curtain shut and leaned into the heat of the water. Man, that felt good. Bracing against the shower wall, he soaped his body, paying particular attention to the end of his leg. It needed moisturizer as well, and the leg and sleeve needed to air out.

While he’d become accustomed to dealing with his missing leg, it was still a disadvantage when on assignment. Just taking the time to care for the damn thing was an inconvenience. If he didn’t take care of it now though, the irritation would get worse.

He finished up his shower and reversed the process to get out of the tub. Toweling dry, he looked for moisturizer under the sink, but there wasn’t any. Damn. He’d have to get the bottle from his room.

Rinsing the sleeve in the sink, he laid it on the edge while he pulled the sweats on, then he readied a bandage. Ah, Neosporin. The cool salve felt really good as he applied a dressing and wrapped gauze around the skin break on his wrist. Though he’d gotten after Lora for not wearing her bandage on her wrist, he had to admit it wasn’t easy to wrap yourself, but he’d had many, many years of practice. Within seconds his burnt hand was hidden beneath layers of gauze.

His room was across the hall and down a few feet from the bathroom. Bouncing on his right foot, he made his way to the room and inside. He propped his leg beside the bed and draped the sleeve over the short foot post of the queen-sized frame. Not exactly what it was meant for, but it would do.

Digging in his duffel, he found the bottle of non-perfumed anti-itch moisturizer and started rubbing it onto his leg. Damn, that felt good.

There was a knock on his door before Flynn stuck his head in. His gaze didn’t even flicker to his leg, because he’d seen it all before.

“What’s up, Flynn?”

“The woman is out here fussing. She won’t say anything outright, but I think she’s looking for you. The little girl is in bed.”

Chad sighed and glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. Going on eight in the evening. He needed to get some sleep. “You can tell her I’m awake. If she comes back, great, if not, I’ll sleep for a while. My sleeve is wet. I can’t put it on yet.”

Just the thought of putting his leg into a squishy, cold sleeve made him shudder.

The thought of Lora seeing him like this made him shudder in a different way. But maybe it was time. Needing to minimize the impact, he rolled the leg of the sweats back down over the leg.

Flynn ducked out of the room and moved down the hallway. Chad listened to him go, and realized his breathing had changed. The thought of Lora coming in now put him on edge, for several different reasons. One, he didn’t think she realized he was missing a leg. He adjusted the prosthetic beside him, placing it at the exact corner of the bed. There was no doubting now. Two, he hadn’t let a woman see him without his leg for years. Granted, with the sweats on, she wouldn’t see anything that might gross her out, but this was damn near naked for him. Fuck, he’d rather be naked than show off his stump. Not having his leg on put him at a severe disadvantage, and he was curious what she would do with that power. Plus, he hadn’t put a T-shirt on yet either. The rough skin down his left side was on display.