Home on the Ranch: Rodeo Legend

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Home on the Ranch: Rodeo Legend Page 7

by Pamela Britton


  “You made it,” she said.

  He plopped down on the metal chair. “I did.” He held up a file folder. “Here’s the release we talked about. I’m sure you’re going to want to read it. I’ll just go get myself a cup of coffee while you do.”

  She leaned forward and picked up the folder, a stream of steam rising from an oversize coffee mug on the table. He could smell chocolate inside of whatever it was. That was the moment he realized she looked different. Her hair was down and curled. She wore a light-blue cotton shirt with a scooped neckline and sleeves that flared at the end. Earrings dangled from her ears.

  Gorgeous.

  “I’ll be right back.” He shot up out of his chair. “Gonna get myself that coffee.” He turned away without another word. There were a million reasons why he should stay away from her, not the least of which being that she was his doctor. What kind of idiot would ever make a pass at the professional in charge of his care?

  Your kind of idiot, a little voice answered.

  He’d been drugged, though, so it didn’t count, and she certainly seemed to have dismissed it. So would he.

  He took his time ordering coffee, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from glancing over at her. She seemed engrossed in her task.

  “This looks fine,” she said when he returned, setting the paper down, reaching into her purse hanging off the back of her chair and pulling something out. His check. And a pen. He set his coffee down, watching as she signed her name on the bottom of the release before filling out her check.

  “How much?”

  Their eyes connected, a current of something passing between them. The same kind of something he felt whenever she touched him.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never given riding lessons before.” He had to take a sip of his coffee. To look anywhere but at her. Something like embarrassment had him sipping a little too quickly, making him cough.

  “You okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “How does sixty dollars an hour sound?”

  Sixty? That sounded like a lot. “I think half that would probably be more appropriate.”

  She studied him for a moment. “I think you’re selling yourself too short.”

  Selling himself. Ha. Yeah. He supposed in a way he was, and it was no big deal. Lots of professional cowboys trained people to ride. Why the hell did it matter that she was paying him?

  “Suit yourself.”

  She went back to filling out the check, passing it to him a moment later. “I paid you for six lessons.”

  Six. That was a few hundred dollars. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I wanted to.” She took a sip of her coffee. “So how do you think Bella’s progressing?”

  “Great,” he said. “She’s a natural.”

  She nodded. “She enjoys it.”

  “She could be good enough to show one day.”

  Her eyes held his own. “You think?”

  “I do.” He glanced around, wondering how quickly he could get out of there. It hit him then why he had such a hard time taking payment from her. It made him feel like a loser. As if he was some kind of poor cowboy living from paycheck to paycheck. And there she was, the big, successful doctor. It was emasculating.

  “She’d be thrilled.”

  “She’ll have to work hard.”

  “That might be good for her.” There was so much hope in her voice that it caught his interest.

  “Is she having trouble in school?”

  A brow rose. “No.” She inhaled deeply. “Nightmares. On and off for years. It’s part of how we got started on this whole horse thing. I mean, she’s always wanted one, but then I did some research and learned they’re great emotional support animals.”

  “They are.”

  “So maybe the extra exercise and being loved by a horse will help out.”

  “I’m sure it will.”

  He studied her eyes, examining all the various shades of green as if he could find an answer to questions he didn’t even know he was asking. He saw sadness in those eyes. And kindness. And curiosity.

  “I really admire you.”

  Her eyes flickered. He jolted, too, because he hadn’t expected to say the words out loud.

  “Thank you.”

  In for a penny, in for a pound. “You’re a hell of a role model for that little girl.”

  Did she blush? He was almost certain she did.

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “Yes, you did. A lot of people would have thrown in the towel after the death of a loved one.”

  Like he’d given up rodeo. But he didn’t want to examine that thought too deeply.

  “You could have given up school, found a job, walked away from your dreams, but you didn’t. That’s pretty amazing.”

  Definitely a blush. He liked the way it emphasized her cheeks, and he wondered how anyone as pretty as Ava hadn’t been snatched up by some wealthy businessman or a co-worker doctor. Someone the exact opposite of him.

  He stood suddenly. “I’m going to get something to eat, too.”

  She nodded, eyes wide. “Okay,” she said softly.

  “Be right back.”

  He had to force himself to turn and head to the counter, but he had to leave. He needed to gather his wits and to breathe and to think. What the hell was he doing complimenting her like that? This wasn’t a date. He was a part-time rodeo cowboy who made furniture for a living. She was a good-looking brainiac who made more in a month than he did all year. They were two complete opposites. She had a kid. A career. She probably didn’t have a boyfriend because she didn’t want or need one. Who needed a man when you had the world at your feet, especially a broken-down cowboy?

  “Damn,” he muttered.

  So this was what it felt like to be smitten with someone?

  He had a crush on his doctor.

  * * *

  “My, my, my,” Ava heard a woman say as Carson came toward her with a plate in his good hand. He’d bought a muffin to go with his coffee.

  My, my, my, the woman inside Ava silently agreed. The pragmatic part of her had to look away, horrified that she’d been ogling her patient.

  A glance at the women around her revealed that every female eye in the immediate vicinity followed his progress back to their table, not surprising given he looked about ready to burst out of his jeans. They clung to the muscular build of his legs and hugged him in all the right places. His black cowboy hat set off his dark eyebrows, bringing his blue eyes to prominence. Something about him being injured added to the allure. They’d fitted him with a neoprene-and-Velcro brace that looked like some kind of space-age armor. Two straps encircled his upper arm with two similar straps below his elbow, the pieces connected by a thick piece of metal on front and back with a dial on the outside to control angles. He looked like he’d been riding out on the range, maybe battling with a bull, emerging the victor, but with a war wound.

  Carson seemed oblivious. He smiled at her as he sat and she wondered if people were speculating about what the heck a plain Jane like her was doing with a hunk of masculine cowboy like him.

  “Is that a bran muffin?”

  He glanced at his plate and she could have sworn she spotted a look of surprise. “Why, I believe it is.”

  “Don’t you know?”

  “I just told them to give me whatever.”

  She smiled. “They must have thought you needed something healthy.”

  “Guess so.”

  “How is your arm feeling?” That was better. Bring it back to patient and doctor.

  “It still aches a bit. I’ve been icing it, like the nurse said, but it throbs from time to time.”

  “That’s to be expected. Even though you got to go home the same day, it was still major surgery.”

  “Yeah, about that..
.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I don’t know what got into me in the recovery room—”

  “Don’t mention it.” Please, she silently urged. Don’t. “It really does happen. I once had a patient wake up who wouldn’t stop singing the National Anthem. You should have heard him. Kept singing and singing at the top of his lungs. Nurses talked about it for weeks.”

  He smiled. She wondered if she should cut their visit short. Now that they’d conducted their business, there was really no need to hang around.

  But she wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. Something about being in the presence of a handsome male titillated her feminine side.

  She gulped. “Anyway, you’ll feel better each day. When do you start your therapy?”

  “Next week.” He looked as glum as someone forced into jury duty.

  “It won’t be as bad as you think.” She wanted to touch his hand. Why did she always want to do that? “When they take your brace off, you’ll be surprised at how good your elbow will feel. Well, it’s going to hurt, don’t get me wrong, but it’s more of a bruising type of pain, not a deep bone-throbbing ache. Or so I’ve been told.”

  “Good to know.” He smiled a little bigger. “I think.”

  She really should go. There was no reason to spend any more time with him than absolutely necessary.

  “Thanks for meeting me this morning.” She reached around and grabbed her purse. “I’m sorry I forgot to give you a check the other day. I’ll see you this weekend for Bella’s lesson.”

  He seemed surprised at the abrupt way she stood, but he didn’t insist she stay and for that she was grateful.

  “That’s okay.”

  No, you’re disappointed.

  Okay, so maybe his easy acquiescence left her deflated. What red-blooded female wouldn’t want to be seen in his company?

  “Call me at the hospital if you develop any pain or redness at your incision sites.”

  “Will do.”

  Way to bring it back to patient and doctor. But as she walked out the door, part of her wondering if he watched her go, she wished she wasn’t quite so sensible. And that he didn’t remind her so much of Paul. And that he wasn’t a patient.

  Sometimes things just weren’t meant to be.

  Chapter 9

  Ava barely spared him a glance as she waved goodbye, the scent of coffee reminding him that he had a drink to finish up. And a bran muffin. Although how the hell he’d ended up with one of those he had no idea.

  “Well, well, well. Look who’s here.”

  Carson almost groaned. Just what he needed. His sister, Jayden, was walking over to him from a nearby table. He hadn’t seen her since she’d snuck in to visit him in the hospital, a complete surprise given she’d told him she’d call.

  “And was that Dr. Moore I saw with you?”

  He tried to paste on a blank expression before looking up at her. His sister’s blue eyes followed Ava’s progress to her car. He saw her lips twitch just before she faced him. “I’ve heard of house calls, but not coffeehouse calls.”

  It was hard not to roll his eyes. “Ha, ha, ha. Very funny. We were just signing some paperwork. Dad got worried about liability, so I had her sign a release. Plus, she owed me money.”

  Her eyes dimmed at the mention of their father and he inwardly kicked himself. Usually he avoided the dad word. Reese Gillian had disowned his daughter when she’d gotten pregnant out of wedlock, something none of them approved of or understood, but Jayden had done okay for herself. Still, he knew it hurt.

  “Don’t you owe her money for your surgery?”

  “I don’t know. Insurance is paying for it, I think.”

  Her gaze caught on his splint. “How’s the arm?”

  “Good,” he said with a deep breath, happy for the change of subject and hoping she was dropping the issue of Dr. Moore. “For now. No reaction to the hardware. Incision looks good, too. Supposed to go in for yet another X-ray next week, see how things are healing. Physical therapy is next.”

  Jayden’s eyes went back to teasing him again. “Will you see your favorite doctor then?”

  “I doubt it. She doesn’t have anything to do with physical therapy, and I don’t think she does radiology.”

  Jayden set her purse on the table and took a seat opposite him. He didn’t want her to. He had a feeling his little sister was about to assume the role of mother and grill him. She was good at that.

  “What?” he asked.

  She watched Ava drive away before focusing on him. “She’s a single mom, Carson.”

  Tell him about it. “It’s not like that.”

  “So you say, but you should be careful. Dating her won’t be the same as dating one of your rodeo fans.”

  “I’m not going to date her.”

  She tipped her head to the side, a gesture so reminiscent of his mother that for a moment it was hard to swallow. Jayden looked like her, too, except with dark hair. His mom had been such a beauty.

  “She has a daughter.”

  For the love of...

  “Sis, really. Stop. It’s not like that.”

  “So you said. But you clearly like her a little more than a patient should. At least you did when you were waking up from anesthesia, or so I heard from Aunt Crystal.”

  “That wasn’t me. Well, I mean, it was me.” He shrugged. “And, okay. She’s pretty. I’ll give you that, but you remember Kat.”

  She shivered. “Unfortunately.”

  “It’s the same kind of deal. You wouldn’t believe the drive Dr. Moore has. Did you know she raised her daughter all on her own? Put herself through medical school without any help from family. She has no family. She’s done it all solo, kind of like you.”

  Jayden cocked a brow, the left side of her mouth lifting in a smirk. “You admire her.”

  “Well, yeah. Don’t you? But that’s not my point. My point is she’s a woman who’s dedicated to her career. And her daughter. No room for a man, and certainly not a man like me.”

  “Hmm. If you say so.”

  He wasn’t surprised Jayden would mention her concerns. She lived the life of a single mom. His niece, Paisley, was three years old. But Jayden hadn’t let her teenage pregnancy stop her from going on to college and getting a degree in sports medicine. In a lot of ways, Jayden reminded him of Ava, just a younger version.

  Still, he’d watched his sister over the years, admired her for all she’d been through. His dad hadn’t made her life easy. He could have offered her a place to live on the ranch, could have helped support her, but he was notoriously tough on his kids, and even harder on his only daughter. He’d hoped that would change after his heart surgery, but he hadn’t let up. So they all tried to help out with Paisley when they could, his Aunt Crystal more than anybody, but he wondered if Jayden missed being carefree, and if maybe she regretted getting pregnant at such a young age.

  “You should be dating more.”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  He almost laughed. His sister gave him “the look.” The one that was so much like their mother’s—right down to the wrinkles that formed between her two eyes—that it sobered him for a moment.

  “She reminds me of you, honestly. You both have the same kind of drive.”

  “And that’s my point. You and I both know you prefer women that are a little more...” She bit her lip as she tried to choose a word. “Free.”

  “Free?” He shook his head. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not dating mustangs or something.”

  “You know what I mean. The women in your life come and go, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s not like you’re out there breaking hearts like some people we know.”

  She meant Levi. The man who’d left her high and dry once she’d gotten pregnant.

  “The women you date know the drill. You do, too. But dating Dr.
Moore? That would be different.”

  “All right.” He held up a hand. “Enough.”

  “Don’t be offended. I don’t think you’re a jerk about it or anything. Like I said, they all know you’re a player—”

  “A player!”

  “No. Not really a player. That was the wrong word.” It was her turn to be the uncomfortable one. “How do I say this? Carson, you’re a big, lovable teddy bear. Women adore you. But the minute they start making demands, you let them down—even the hideous Katarina.” She lifted her hands to curtail his denial. “Gently. You don’t dump them like some kind of loser. You make jokes about your dating phobia—your words—and sweet talk them, and sometimes you even make them think it’s their idea to break up. It’s kind of genius, and I’ve seen it happen at least half a dozen times over the years.”

  She made him sound like a regular ladies’ man. “It might surprise you to know that I’d already decided she wasn’t my type,” he quipped.

  Jayden admonished him with a frown. “Anything with legs is your type.”

  “Hey.”

  She smiled to take the sting out of her words. “And anyway, since when have you ever had a ‘type’?”

  Okay. So she had him there. “I do respect her, though. I can’t deny it.”

  Jayden leaned back, studying him for a while. “Enough to stop flirting with all the pretty girls on the rodeo circuit? To go home after a rodeo and not out to a dance? To commit to not just Ava but her daughter, too? Can you do all that?”

  Of course he could. But he didn’t answer, just stared at his hands. “I don’t know what all the fuss is about,” he grumbled. “I doubt she even thinks of me as more than an annoying patient that just so happens to give her daughter riding lessons.”

  Jayden snorted. “Yeah, right. Don’t tell me you haven’t gotten to the ripe old age of twenty-nine without realizing the effect you have on women. Never understood why. Must be the cowboy hat, but I assure you, Dr. Moore’s not blind.”

  “She’s not stupid, either.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Just that I’m sure she knows I’m not up to her standard, educationwise. She could have anybody, not a broken old cowboy that’s never done much with his life.”

 

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