“Docile?” she scoffed. “I’ve been chased by cows a few times in my life. I don’t think they’re docile at all. In fact, they’re evil.”
“Evil?” He chuckled. “Cows?”
“It all happened at my best friend Larae’s ranch, where my parents work. Daddy is the foreman and Mama is the cook. When I was nine, Larae and I were at the river with my poodle. The cow was on the other side. She kept staring at us, creeping closer, until I grabbed Gigi up and we ran back to the ranch house.” She rolled her eyes. “My parents said she was curious about my dog, but that cow chased us all the way back to the house.”
Clint clamped his mouth shut, in a poor attempt to contain his amusement.
“Then just a few years ago, I was home for a visit and happened to be at the ranch again. Daddy had a cow out, so I thought I’d be brave and help him. All I did was tell her she didn’t need to get in the road. But she came charging toward me.
“I ran, but I had flip-flops on and stepped in an armadillo hole. I managed to get behind an old fence Daddy had replaced and was tearing down in sections, so it was open at both ends. She reared up and flailed her hooves at me, then started around after me. Thankfully, Daddy got her attention by banging on the feed bucket and got her back in the fence.”
His struggle ended and he roared with laughter.
“Daddy said she wanted to play, but I’ve never owned a pair of flip-flops again. I only wear tennis shoes or comfortable boots when I go anywhere cows are.” At least her most embarrassing moments had gotten Clint to temporarily forget his problems. “And I keep a fence between them and me.”
“I’m sorry your parents took the cow’s side both times.” He grinned.
“I really hadn’t thought about it that way.”
A man exited the barn, wearing coveralls and muck boots.
“Hey, Jerry.” Lexie waved at Jerry Booth, Medina’s vet for as long as she could remember.
“Why, Lexie Parker, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. I was wondering what all the laughter was about out here.”
“I hope we didn’t cause a distraction,” Clint said, adjusting his weight against the fence.
“Not at all.” Jerry’s gaze pinged back and forth between the two of them. “I’m glad to see Lexie finally has a social life. Clint here is a good man.”
“We’re not...” Lexie’s face heated. “We’re just friends.”
“Oh. Pardon my manners for assuming.”
“How’s the herd?” Clint asked.
“Healthy.” Jerry strolled over and held a bill out toward Clint.
Clint let go of the fence with one arm, reached for it and lost his balance.
But Lexie was there to steady him. His face turned scarlet.
“You all right, Clint?” The vet furrowed his brow in concern.
“Just a little bull wreck. But I’m mending.”
“Oh.” Jerry’s gaze cut to Lexie. “Well, you got the best therapist friend in Medina. Lexie will have you healed up in no time.”
“Thanks, Jerry.” Lexie took the bill and stuffed it in her pocket without looking at it. Trying to leave Clint some semblance of privacy.
With a wave, Jerry strode around the back of the barn. An engine started up and minutes later, the white mobile veterinarian vehicle pulled into sight. Jerry waved again as he continued down the drive and exited the property.
“Ready to go back inside?” she asked.
“Absolutely not. Let’s walk some more.”
“All right. A little farther, but we don’t want to tire you out.”
“I’m good. Better out here.”
“Okay.” She positioned his walker for him, steadied him while he transferred his weight from the fence.
Maybe getting him outside had been just what the doctor ordered.
* * *
Light tugged at Clint’s heavy eyelids. He squinted them open. Daylight streamed through a crack between the curtains. Morning. In his bedroom at the ranch. He peered at the pale blue walls, trying to gather his thoughts. Why was Dad’s walker by his bed?
Oh, yeah. It wasn’t Dad’s.
He closed his eyes.
Two and a half years had passed since Dad had been gone. Cooper was seven. Charlee was almost two. Mom was engaged and sneaking around to see her boyfriend. Like a teenager. Because of him. He needed to find the strength to fix that.
Yesterday, he’d gotten to go outside to check on his herd. To take a walk with Lexie. Why had the vet thought they were a couple? He could count the reasons they shouldn’t be. She was his therapist. He was currently disabled and couldn’t even stand up without a walker. His condition could be permanent and on a downhill spiral.
Clothes were folded neatly on his side table, courtesy of Mom. Sitting on the side of his bed, he managed to tug on the pair of lightweight stretchy pants and a matching T-shirt.
The doorbell rang. She was here.
He made slow progress with his walker down the hall, into the kitchen.
“Good morning.” She smiled.
That did something funny to his heart.
He returned her greeting.
The bright colors of her turquoise-and-purple scrubs complimented her exotic coloring. The pattern was like the swirls sometimes carved in saddle leather or on a handkerchief. Like Mom’s couch. What had she called it? Paisley, yeah that was it. Why did he care?
“I have an appointment.” Mom set his plate on the table. Eggs, bacon and biscuits.
“So early?” He managed to make it to the table, support himself on the surface and fall heavily into his chair. “Are you sneaking out to see Ted again?”
Mom’s face turned red.
“It’s okay, Mom. You’re not a child and you shouldn’t have to sneak around to see someone you obviously love. I want to meet him.”
His mom’s eyes lit up, but then a frown pinched between her brows, and she turned to Lexie. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“If Clint is up for it, I think it’s an excellent idea.”
“I’ll see when he can come over for supper then,” Mom said with a smile.
He’d clearly made her day. And it was about time for him to do something besides worry her.
“Is it okay if I still meet him for breakfast at the Old Spanish Trail, since we already had it planned?” Mom set her purse down. “Or would you rather I stay here? I can if you want me to.”
“You don’t have to ask my permission and no more planning things around me.”
“You’re the best son.” She kissed his temple.
But he hadn’t been. He’d gone back to bull riding. Twice. Even though it worried her. Despite what the sport had done to Dad. Why? He had to find out what had pushed him to go back this time.
“What do you want for supper when Ted comes?” she asked.
He swallowed hard. “Fix something he likes.”
Mom beamed, waved her fingers and went out the door to the garage.
“That was very considerate of you,” Lexie murmured, taking a seat across from him.
“I figure I’ve put her through enough.” Now he just needed to stomach the meeting with Ted. “Let me pray over the food.”
Lexie bowed her head.
“Thank You, Lord, for my mom. For my family. For a good therapist. Help me to get through supper with Ted. Let him be the man my mom needs. Allow me to fully recover so I can be a help to my family instead of a hindrance. Bless this food and thank You for all the blessings You give us. In Jesus’s name, amen.”
He raised his head to see Lexie smiling at him. “What?”
“Out of all my patients, you’re my second praying one. Your dad was the first.”
A knot formed in his throat. “I’m embarrassed I hadn’t thought to do it before now.”
“God understand
s. The brain thing.” She pointed to his head. “Levi was a wonderful man.” She covered his hand with hers.
Their gazes caught, held. She jerked her hand away.
At her fleeting touch, all the reasons they’d make a great couple echoed through his mind. She was a Christian. She was caring, encouraging and trustworthy. On top of that, she was beautiful. Since Dad died, he’d been so focused on the ranch he hadn’t thought about his future. Not that he remembered, anyway. Marriage? Kids? Lexie made him want to think on it.
But a couple of big ifs stood in their way. If he could get well. Recover everything he’d lost. If he didn’t have permanent brain damage like his dad. Then what? Could Lexie be interested in him? Or did she see him only as a patient?
“Want me to stick around for dinner when Ted comes? I mean—it’s up to you. If you think me being around might ease things. Keep you from feeling like a third wheel and all that.”
Third wheel. Something about the phrase struck a chord of memory.
“Or I can just go, leave it to family. Or maybe see if Carly can come...”
“I’d like for you to join us.” Hoping to distract himself, he jabbed a bite of eggs into his mouth.
She glanced up at him. “Don’t look now, but you just found your mouth. On the first try.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth. Then to his plate as he jabbed another bite. Into his cheek.
“Concentrate.”
“Right. I don’t want to stick whatever Mom cooks up in my ear in front of Ted.”
“Your aim’s not that bad.” She grinned.
If he kept thinking about her lips, it might be. “Can we go outside again today?”
“Yes. If you promise to sit part of the time. We can play a card game to help with your hand movement and your memory.”
“I’m in.” Maybe the fresh air would keep her sweet, coconut scent at bay.
* * *
Lexie rang the bell the next evening. After a full day with Clint, she’d rushed home to change for dinner. Had she overdressed? She ran her hands down her thighs, smoothing her gauzy red-and-white polka dot blouse, which she’d paired with jeans and red, low-heeled sandals. Great, she’d invited herself and overdressed.
The door swung open, revealing a smiling Audrey. “Lexie. I’m so glad you could come. I’m so nervous and Clint is, too. You have a very soothing presence.”
“Thank you.” That was all she’d wanted to do—to help.
“And you look lovely.”
“You do, too.”
Audrey wore a cute turquoise top that brought out her pale blue eyes. With her brunette, shoulder-length hair and kind features, she was a beautiful woman. Inside and out.
“I was worried I might be overdressed. But I’m planning to attend Wednesday night Bible study after the meal.”
“Which is exactly why I planned an early supper. Ted and I are planning to go, as well.” Audrey ushered her inside. “I’m on pins and needles. I guess it’s not every evening my son gets to meet my fiancé.” Chuckling, she shook her head. “Again.”
“Can I help you with the meal?”
“The lasagna is done and staying warm in the oven. But I haven’t put the salad together yet.”
Lexie followed her to the kitchen. The ranch-style house was large and airy, but somehow still cozy with lots of family photos and personal touches.
While Audrey cut up the lettuce, Lexie sliced and diced tomatoes.
“Do you think Clint’s memory is getting any better?” Audrey raked lettuce off the cutting board into a large bowl.
“I’m not sure. Sometimes, I think I see flashes in his expression, like maybe he’s remembering something.”
“I hope so.”
“He’s definitely doing better physically, though. He never would have agreed to eat in front of anyone a week ago. And I think his balance has improved, too, especially since we’ve spent the last few days outside.”
“He’s always been happiest outdoors.” Audrey checked her watch. “He’s in the shower. I’m so glad we had the guest bathroom set up for handicapped access when Levi got sick. The more Clint can do on his own, the happier he is.”
“Typical male. They tend to get more frustrated with physical limitations than women. In my experience with patients anyway.”
“Especially if their last name is Rawlins.” Audrey smiled. “Levi could be a bear when things didn’t go like he wanted.”
“But he was a teddy bear most of the time.”
Audrey squeezed her arm. “I hope Clint likes Ted. Do you think we should put the wedding off? I don’t want to do anything that will set my boy back in his progress.”
“My gut says no. But maybe you should wait and see how tonight goes.”
“Good idea.”
A door opened down the hallway. “Is Lexie back yet, Mom?” Clint called.
“Yes, dear. She’s right here.”
“I’ll see if he needs help.” Lexie darted down the hall.
With his dark hair still damp, slightly tousled, Clint stood in the doorway of the guest bathroom, which apparently connected to the therapy room and his bedroom. Gone were his typical track pants and T-shirt. Instead, he wore jeans, boots and a Western shirt. And he was way, way too handsome.
He gave her a sheepish look. “I usually shave every morning, but since I may slit my throat if I try that, I decided to grow a beard. But it’s getting out of hand. I look scruffy.”
He looked anything but scruffy.
“I know it’s not in your job description, but can you help?”
“You’re in luck. My parents were both bunged up in a fender bender once and I had to shave my dad.” She’d been so scared when her grandmother had told her they were in a wreck. “It came right after my friend Stacia lost her mom to a heart attack and Larae’s mom died after a car wreck. I’m so blessed to still have both of my parents.”
Moisture glimmered in his eyes. “I’m blessed to still have my mom.”
“Do you want it all off?” She hoped not. The beard added to that tall, dark and handsome thing he had going on. But then again, maybe she needed to talk him into a clean shave so he wouldn’t look so good. Who was she kidding? His handsome wasn’t going anywhere.
“Not necessarily. I figure a beard is easier to maintain for now.”
“Do you have clippers with a guard?”
“In that drawer, but there’s some childproof thingy on it and I can’t open it.”
She sidestepped him, opened the drawer and dug through it. “Aha, this should do it.” She pulled out his set of clippers with several guards and turned so he could see them.
“Use the closest guard. That way it’ll need done less often.”
“All right.” She slid the guard onto the clippers. “Come stand over the sink.”
“Sorry. I’d feel like such a baby if I asked Mom,” he admitted, shuffling toward her as she hopped up to sit on the counter by the sink.
“It’s okay.” Except that she’d have to get way too close to his ruggedly handsome face to complete the task. She needed distraction to get through this. “I decided to become an occupational therapist because of my parents’ accident. Because my dad was so embarrassed for me to shave him, it made me want to fix him so he could do it himself.”
“How old were you?” He made it to the sink, set his walker aside and leaned on the countertop with both hands.
“Fourteen, so I might be rusty.” She waggled her eyebrows at him.
“Should I be scared?”
“Nah, I can’t cut you with the guard on.” She put a towel over the sink and her lap, then wrapped a second towel around his broad shoulders. The clippers buzzed as she ran them over his jawline. “Just hold really still.”
“You mean now’s not the time to lose my balance?”
“No
t unless you want a really short haircut, too. And no talking, either.” She finished one side, gripped his chin and turned him to face her. His beard was soft against her fingers as she ran the clippers over his chin and mustache. What would it feel like against her lips? Her pulse spiked. Forcing herself not to make eye contact, she turned his other cheek toward her and made two swipes.
“Perfect.” He turned to the mirror. “Thank you.”
Lexie started breathing again. “Any time.” But she hoped it grew back super slow. She used a dry washcloth to swipe over his face and knock off any loose whiskers, then carefully removed the towel from around his shoulders. “You go on to the kitchen. I’ll clean up here.”
“I’d argue, but I’d just spill it in the floor and make a bigger mess.” He gripped his walker and gave her a rueful smile. “I couldn’t sneak up on anybody if I wanted to.”
“You will be able to clean up after yourself and walk normally. I’m not finished with you yet.”
As he exited the bathroom, it didn’t sound like he hit the walls as much as he had initially. Progress.
But Lexie needed it to happen faster. She’d only worked with him for a week and a half and she was already imagining kissing him.
Sighing, she slipped off the counter, carefully shook the towel contents into the trash, then looked in the mirror.
“No,” she said aloud, jabbing a finger at her reflection. “You cannot fall for him. He’s a patient, a rodeo junkie suffering from a brain injury that keeps him from making sound decisions. Off-limits. So not what you need.”
Maybe Carly could help with any future grooming needs he might have. Or Ted. She had to take a step back, be objective, be a therapist. And draw the line right where it needed to be drawn.
Chapter Nine
Clint felt like a loser, sitting at the kitchen table while Lexie cleaned his whiskers off the bathroom sink. After having to trim his beard for him. His mood did not improve as he watched Mom fill drink glasses and set dishes on the table. He’d always helped her in the kitchen. But at the moment, he was pretty useless.
The Cowboy's Missing Memory Page 9
