Healing Trace (4 page)

"When
we stepped out into the real world, we realized not many people wanted to hire
three unemployed Native Americans fresh out of high school, so we worked our
asses off busting horses at different ranches in the area and pooling our
money." Brody snatched a fry off his plate. "We worked until we had
enough to buy this property. We wanted to remain close to our people, and our
acreage backs Lakota land."

"There
used to be an old shack with barely a roof on it here before we built the house,
and we stayed in that while Devon went on to college, and Trace and I worked
just to survive." Brody held out a plate for Devon to fill. "Although
we run cattle, our passion is in the horses. Devon runs the business side of
things too and keeps a roof over our head."

"That's
amazing. I can't imagine how hard it must have been to start from
scratch." She sat up straighter. "What all is involved with running a
ranch this size…it's huge."

"We
raise organic beef as our staple, and have a few other investments we dabble in
on the side. Later, I'll show you the house, and you'll understand how this is
more like separate living quarters than…shackin' up together." Brody
motioned for her to eat. "We've all got our own private areas with outside
entrances, and only share the living area and kitchen."

She
smiled. "Thank you for…dinner."

 She
tried to concentrate on their conversation, but her mind kept wandering back to
she was living with 3 beautiful men for at least the next six weeks. Her sister
was going to flip out when she heard where she was working.

Brody
popped the last bite of his toast in his mouth. She peered at him while she
chewed. Brody's long cinnamon-colored fingers were bare.

Wiping
her mouth on the napkin, she chanced a glance at Devon. If her calculations
were right, and at this time she wasn't sure what to think since she'd been
wrong before, all of the men were unmarried. She wiped her mouth on the napkin.
All these gorgeous men would be hanging around her for the next six weeks. She
took another drink of orange juice so she wouldn't get lightheaded again.

Chapter Four

For
the next two days, Trace lived from one pain pill to the next. He rubbed the
area above his cast, and waited for Joan to come to the living room. He'd
played it safe and asked whichever one of his friends who were available to
assist him to the bathroom, so Joan wouldn't have to help him with his personal
care.

The
time had come to stop taking the medication, and devote the days to getting
stronger. He'd babied his leg long enough. Now he only had to convince Joan to
hand over his crutches.

The
woman who entered the room a few minutes later was not the nurse who'd taken
care of him the past few days. He stared, his finger wedged between the cast
and his leg. Gone were Joan's nurse scrubs, and in their place she donned a
pair of skimpy denim shorts and a yellow tank top, which barely covered her
midriff and hugged her full breasts, leaving nothing to his imagination. He
wasn't immune.

"Good
morning." She smiled, looking better than a summer day. "How are you
feeling today?"

He
cleared his throat, unable to tear his gaze away. "What's with the
clothes?"

His
question came out gruff and rude. If he had to keep reminding himself that she
was his nurse and he had to keep a hands-off rule foremost in his mind, it'd
make his day even more difficult to bear. Not that he ever forgot she was all
woman, that was impossible.

"Brody
suggested I make myself comfortable and said there was no reason for me to wear
my scrubs," she said. "Should I change?"

"I
don't give a shit what you wear," he muttered.

She'd
pulled her hair over one shoulder, and when she ducked her head at his curt
reply, his resolve softened. He'd noticed how hard she tried to hide how his
attitude affected her during the time they were together.

She
often bit down on her bottom lip and a few times, he'd witnessed a slight
tremble in her hands when she helped him. He hated himself for being an
asshole, but that's who he was and he didn't plan to change anytime soon.

"How
is your pain level?" She glanced at his leg.

"Fine."

"I'm
glad to hear that. You're doing very well. Better than the doctor expected, I
believe. You're going longer between pain pills too." She folded the
blanket lying on the floor and placed it on the end of the couch. "Are you
ready for breakfast?"

"I've
already ate." He swept his hair behind his shoulders. "Devon put some
food in the fridge, since you missed the meal. You can go warm up a plate for
yourself."

"Oh."
She pursed her lips and frowned. "Okay."

"Before
you go, can you bring the crutches to me?" He lifted his brows.
"Please."

For
some reason, he was going to put out the effort to get along. She'd proven that
she wasn't going anywhere, and if it meant getting back out in the saddle
sooner, he'd play along to make the time go faster.

"Sure."
She turned around and headed out of the room. "Let me grab a cup of coffee,
and then I'll bring your crutches to you.

"Wait."

She
froze, pivoted on her toes, and gazed at him. "Yes?"

"You'll
let me have them?"

She
nodded. "Yes. I think it's a good idea to start using them, and building
up your strength."

"Thanks."
He inhaled deeply, feeling like shit for snapping at her. "I know I'm not
easy to get along with, but if you promise not to force me to take any of that
damn pain medicine, I'll try not to…you know."

She
grinned. "Act like a dumbass?"

The
transformation that came with her teasing left him smiling inside. He nodded.
"Yeah, you could call me that."

She
laughed. A musical sound that had him grinning back at her, and wanting her to
bestow a smile upon him more often. He wouldn't need anything to dull the pain,
with the way his body reacted to her. At this moment, he was only feeling the
pleasure of her approval, and he liked it.

"I'll
be right back." She hurried out of the room.

He
never asked the women in his past to stick around on a day-to-day basis before,
and having Joan here kept him on edge. He had no interest involving anyone in
his life. It was complicated enough without adding the dynamics of a
relationship. He wasn't even sure he knew how to have a healthy one-on-one
commitment with someone else. Besides, Joan was his nurse. Period.

When
she asked him to take his medicine, made sure he moved his toes to increase
blood circulation in his leg, and propped his leg higher than his heart to rid
himself of swelling, she was the one who appeared more knowledgeable about his
own body. He resented her attitude. She didn't know a damn thing about him. Yet
if not for her, who would help him?

He
couldn't expect the other guys to drop what they were doing to run to his side
every time he had to use the bathroom or bring him the phone. He sighed in
frustration. His friends had done their best to be there for him since he was
six years old, and he knew he couldn't rely on them forever.

If
he spent the rest of his life making up for his past, he'd never be able to pay
them back for what they'd done for him. He rubbed his chest, hating the tension
that came with remembering.

Joan
had him overthinking every emotion he'd buried long ago—ones he swore never to
feed or allow to surface. It made him feel vulnerable, edgy, and ready to run.

Escaping
was plain stupid when he thought about it. He had the life he'd always wanted.
He came and went from the reservation, and found safety on Lakota ranch. He had
no space in his life to wonder what it would be like to have all of Joan's
softness and light touch directed at him.

No,
his place was here. He belonged to the land where time never changed and people
couldn't hurt him. He knew what to expect each morning when he woke up and at
night, if he tried hard enough, he sometimes succeeded in forgetting.

Joan
came back carrying his temporary legs for the next six weeks in one hand, and a
coffee mug in the other. "Let me help you up, and then I'll hand you the
crutches. Have you ever used them before?"

"Yeah,
more times than I want to remember." He took her hand, but refused to rely
on her strength to pull him to his feet. He wasn't that helpless.

She
barely came to his chin, but he'd found out in a hurry that she wasn't shy
about using her strength. She had ways to pick him up from the couch that had
him thinking she had super human strength. She probably learned those tricks in
nursing school.

"Take
a minute to get your balance. Your cast will protect your leg if you fall or
bump it while you walk, but you don't want to hurt any other part of you."
She moved out of the way. "You also don't want to go too far. It's always
harder to walk back to where you came from."

"I
need to go outside." He gripped the pads, hopped, and began the motion of
crutching across the floor.

"What
are you gonna do outside?" She followed behind him.

"Sit."

She
placed her hand on his lower back when he leaned too far to the left.
"Where?"

"Porch."

She
hustled around him, opened the door, while he maneuvered over the doorjamb.
"May I come outside with you?"

He
stopped, turned his head, and lifted his brow. "Is this your attempt at
making me stay on the porch?"

A
dimple he hadn't noticed before popped out on her cheek. "Of course not.
I'd like to walk around the yard while you get fresh air. You're not the only
one who gets cooped up in the house and enjoys the outdoors."

Not
wanting to let her know her answer pleased him, he shrugged. "Do what you
want. I don't need you."

The
flash of disappointment he recognized on her face had him wanting to take his
words back. He continued to the rocker and sat down. Feeling damn lucky that he
only had a cast from below his knee to his toes, and not the full leg cast he
wore five years ago.

Using
the crutch, he pulled a small drink table in front of him and propped his leg
up. He leaned back, and willed his body to relax. His muscles trembled worse
than a newborn foal on its first time standing. In a few more days, he'd have
to spend an hour or two in Brody's weight room, so he didn't lose strength in
his upper body.

Joan
slipped off her shoes, skipped down the steps, and wandered out in the yard.
Trace sat at his spot on the porch. Every now and then, he'd glance away from
Joan to look around, and the craving would hit him. Not once had he ever taken
his life for granted.

The
grass went to the horizon, and the property lines were far enough away it took
a day's ride on horseback to go half way. The space allowed him his peace and
quiet. The animals challenged him in ways he understood, and knew how to deal
with. People were another matter.

Occasionally,
he'd head into town to make sure he hadn't lost all social skills. He'd relieve
his pent up frustrations with a willing woman, and then come back to the ranch.
It was the routine he could handle and accept in his life.

He
loved having Brody and Devon around. They were his family, and because they'd
always been part of his life, he enjoyed their companionship. They were safe.
He glowered at Joan. She stood out of place like a sheep on a cattle ranch.

Joan
strolled along the flowerbed, her hands hooked into her back pockets, letting
her toes dig into the green grass. His breath hitched in his chest. What was a
beautiful woman doing traveling from house to house, taking care of invalids?

He
remembered her saying she delivered meals to the elderly and disabled around
town, yet she was a registered nurse. She never shared anything personal about
her own life, and he found himself curious to know more about her. Where did
she come from? Was there a man in her life?

"Trace?"
Joan stood still, gazing back at the house. "Who planted all the
flowers?"

"That's
Devon's doing. He has a real talent for making things grow, but he doesn't like
anyone to know," he said.

"I
won't tell him I know." She laughed, stopped, and opened her mouth but
seemed to change her mind.

He
shook his head, amused at how much she liked to talk. "You might as well
ask, you will anyways."

"In
the house you asked me about my clothes." She shifted her feet.
"Brody said I didn't have to stick with my formal wear while I'm staying
at the house, but it seemed to bother you. I don't want to upset you, and if
you'd like I can—"

"You're
fine." He glanced away and waited for her to go on with her walk before
going back and keeping an eye on her.

"Okay,"
she said. "Thank you."

She
leaned over, and put her nose into a rose bush. He rubbed his stomach. It felt
strange to have a woman around the ranch.

"It's
so beautiful here…peaceful." She wandered up to the porch and sat on the
steps, sitting sideways to talk with him. "The story of how you built this
place from the ground up is fascinating. I'm impressed."