Wyoming Fierce

by Diana Palmer

  Until he opened his eyes and saw Bodie. “Why did they let her in here?” he asked with ice dripping from every husky syllable.

  Bodie stood her ground. She didn’t snap at him. She didn’t say anything.

  “She and Darby found you,” Tank said. “Stop grumbling. They saved your life. If they hadn’t found you, it would have been too late by morning.”

  Cane blinked and shifted on the bed, groaning. “I busted a rib they said.”

  “You busted three, I heard,” Tank replied complacently. “Well, you fractured three. You’ll be wearing a rib belt and doing very little until after the new year.”

  “I had a show next week in Denver,” he muttered.

  “Red Davis will show the bulls,” Tank replied easily. “He’s good at it.”

  “He’ll hack into the FBI files at night and get arrested,” Cane grumbled. “My bulls will be left in their stalls while we try to spring Davis and arrange transport home.”

  “We won’t let him take his laptop along,” Tank promised.

  “The FBI, too? In addition to the CIA?” Bodie asked, fascinated, as she recalled what Darby had told her about the daring cattle foreman.

  “He likes to walk in fire.” Tank chuckled. “The FBI was last year. But he was taken off in handcuffs three months ago by the CIA for just hacking their main website. He talked his way out of that. But now he’s trying to dig out classified information about a specific terrorism incident from the CIA.” He shook his head. “I know one of their agents. Davis really, really, shouldn’t mess with those guys.”

  “They should offer him a job in their cyber terrorism unit,” Bodie remarked.

  “They already did and he turned them down. Bite your tongue, girl,” Cane murmured. “He’s the best hand we’ve got, next to Darby.”

  He spoke to her without venom. At least he was going to be civil, she thought. “Sorry,” she whispered, averting her eyes.

  “When can you get me out of here?” Cane asked, nodding toward all the equipment. “I feel like a cyborg.”

  “They’re keeping you in here overnight,” Tank told him.

  “Yeah. So they can save me if I start to slip away, right? I know all about concussions. One killed Jamie Franklin,” he added.

  “Jamie was old and he got kicked in the head by a bull and stomped, as well,” Tank replied.

  “That was back in Arizona,” Cane recalled. “Years ago, when we were teenagers.”

  “Were you ever a teenager?” Bodie mused, studying him.

  “I was even a kid, once,” he returned.

  She managed a smile. “Hard to imagine that.”

  Cane searched her taut face for a minute then turned his attention back to his brother. “I’m sleepy. Did they give me something?”

  Tank nodded. “For pain. You’re going to be all right. Honest.”

  Cane smiled wanly and closed his eyes. “Okay. If you say so.” His voice slurred. After a minute, he drifted off.

  Tank walked out. But Bodie didn’t follow. She stood by the bed, staring at Cane, frowning and frightened.

  She smoothed back Cane’s thick black hair with a tender hand, biting her tongue. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Sorry for it all.”

  He didn’t stir. She bent and drew her lips so gently over his forehead, careful to barely touch him. Tears stung her eyes. “You have to live,” she whispered. “I can’t live…if you don’t. You know?”

  She swallowed, hard, and forced herself to turn and leave the room. But she wouldn’t leave the hospital. She sat in the waiting room while the others went for food. They finally forced her into the cafeteria to have a sandwich, but she went right back to the waiting room, even when they told her they had a motel room nearby for the night. She just smiled and settled into her chair even more firmly. They gave up eventually and left her.

  * * *

  IN THE WEE HOURS OF THE morning, a veteran nurse spotted her sitting there. Cane Kirk was at a critical stage. The nurse had seen many cases like his, concussions that went suddenly wrong, tragically wrong. Cane was slipping.

  She approached Bodie and smiled. “How’s it going?”

  Bodie noted the floral pattern of the woman’s shirt and the stethoscope she wore around her neck. A nurse, she decided. “Not so good,” she replied and forced a smile. “I’m worried about my…friend, in ICU.”

  “Would you like to sit with him for a little while?” the nurse asked.

  Bodie blinked. “I thought that wasn’t allowed—that we could only see him every few hours, and just briefly…?”

  The nurse smiled. “We make exceptions sometimes. Come on. I’ll clear it with my supervisor.”

  It took a lot of convincing, but the older woman knew, as her nurse did, that the patient wasn’t responding the way she would have liked. She’d already phoned the attending physician and asked him to stop by the room when he was free. So she understood the urgency of the nurse’s request, and the reason for it. The young woman was pale and drawn, obviously involved somehow with the patient lying so still in the cubicle. The woman thought they were allowing the visit for her sake, but they were really doing it for the patient, to give him every chance to pull through.

  “All right,” the supervisor said after a minute. “But you must be very quiet and not get in the way of my nurses. And only for a few minutes.”

  Bodie nodded. “I’ll be like a mouse. Honest. Thanks,” she stammered nervously.

  The supervisor smiled. Had she ever been that young? “You’re welcome.”

  The nurse, relieved, ushered Bodie into Cane’s cubicle.

  Bodie curled up in a chair beside the bed, in her blue jeans. She noted that Cane had lost color, and he looked really bad. The nurse did her observations, charted them and glanced at Bodie.

  “There’s always hope,” she told the younger woman gently.

  Bodie nodded again.

  When she was alone with Cane, she moved the chair carefully closer to the bed and curled up in it again, looking small and very vulnerable to the nurse monitoring the cubicles at the central desk. She reached out and slid her fingers around Cane’s big, warm hand, holding it tight. The IV needle and tube were taped to a board around the hand, to hold it steady so that he didn’t upset the drip.

  Her fingers moved gently over his. “So many arguments,” she said softly. “You always win them, because I never know how to fight back. And I’ve wished terrible things on you. But I never meant them. I think you know. I think you always knew.”

  He didn’t stir. She knew he couldn’t hear her. He wasn’t responding at all.

  Her fingers curled tighter around his. “You have to fight, Cane,” she whispered brokenly. “So a woman turned you down because you lost an arm. You were a hero. You sacrificed yourself to save your men. That should count for something! Even with a stupid woman who couldn’t see past the prosthesis....”

  She had to stop. She was choking on emotion. She hated the thought of Cane with other women, she hated it! But he’d already made sure that she knew she had no place in his life or his future. She, with her tarnished ideals and stubborn illusions, was so different from him.

  “You can meet nice women,” she said, hurting as she said the words. “You just don’t find them in bars, mostly. You could go to cattlemen’s meetings. Lots of nice women there who love the land and animals, who could love you.... Of course, you don’t want that, do you? You don’t want to be loved. You just want…women from time to time.”

  She swallowed. She stared at his hand, lying so still with her small fingers curled around it. “It’s your life. I had no right to say things, to judge you. If I’d been through what you have, maybe I’d be the same.” She hesitated. “Well, no, I wouldn’t. You think I’m old-fashioned and out of step with the world, and I guess I am. But some people have to be conventional, to keep society solvent, you know. It’s order, faith, duty, that keep us from reverting to savagery.”

  She smiled. “I know, I’m being philoso
phical. Stupid. I’m just trying to explain how I feel. Not that it matters to you, I know. You think I’m an idiot.”

  She smoothed over his fingers. His hand was beautiful. Big and sculpted, with flat, immaculate, trimmed nails. Olive complexion. He was so handsome that he made her ache. When his body had been whole, people said, women followed him everywhere he went. He never had any trouble getting a date. That Cane wouldn’t have looked twice at Bodie. But, in his present condition, with his ego bruised, perhaps he’d come on to her simply because he wanted reassurance that a woman, any woman, could still think of him as a man. He’d touched her, kissed her…said outrageous things to her. She’d responded to them because…

  She swallowed, hard. Because she loved him. She felt the blood drain out of her face. It was hopeless. He was never going to be able to return those feelings. He didn’t really want love, or marriage. Bodie would never be able to settle for a loose arrangement, even if he went crazy and offered her one.

  “Aren’t we a pair?” she asked him huskily. “You’re the original Don Juan and I’m like someone raised in a convent.”

  He didn’t stir. She bent her head to his hand and kissed the back of it, tenderly. “I just want you to live,” she whispered. “Even if you spend the next twenty years racking up notches on your bedpost with every single woman you can find. It will be enough if you’re alive and in the same world with me. Really, it will.”

  She lifted her head and looked at him. Odd, that he seemed less pale. She squeezed his hand as hard as she dared. “I’ve never… Well, I’ve never really done anything with men, except with you. Everything I know, you taught me.” She looked down at his hand. “I know you don’t like me. I get in your way, I’m rude, I’m volatile.” She swallowed. “I’m not pretty, I don’t have social skills, I’ll never win prizes for being witty or brilliant. But I love you.” She laughed, not looking at his face. “For all the good it does either of us. I can’t ever tell you. It would make you double over laughing. Or maybe it would insult you. I don’t know. It’s my secret, anyway,” she whispered brokenly. “My burden. Nobody will ever know except me. I’ll pretend that it doesn’t matter when you call me names and laugh at my morals and snap at me. But each time I’ll die a little more inside....”

  She sat back in the chair and took a deep breath. “You just have to live, that’s all,” she said firmly, fighting tears. “It was never about me or my feelings. You can’t help how you are. Some men just like beautiful women, nothing wrong with that. Except that I’m not beautiful.” She laughed hollowly. “I’m like a comfortable old shoe that you hide in the closet when people come by. I don’t threaten you in any way. I’d never toss off insults at you because you’re disabled or make you feel small. I’m just the girl next door who’s always around when you need someone to talk to.”

  She smoothed over his big hand with the tips of her fingers. “You do talk to me, too, don’t you? About the most embarrassing things, too,” she said, smiling. “At first I didn’t know what you were talking about until I looked it up online.” She sighed. “Gosh, you were graphic. I guess it could count as sex education, what you told me.” She blushed and stared at his immaculate fingernails, tracing them with her fingers. “It’s about as close as I’ll ever get to that sort of thing. I’m not a good-time girl. Not even for you. I’m old-fashioned and set in my ways. I’ll never fit anywhere.” She swallowed again. “So I’ll be a famous anthropologist one day,” she mused and laughed softly. “Maybe I’ll get to teach students at some famous university or something. Or maybe I’ll dig up the missing link or find something controversial.” She looked up at his still face. “You’re so beautiful, Cane,” she whispered. “Just beautiful. I never get tired of looking at you.”

  He stirred, just barely, and his thick, dark eyebrows drew together.

  She worried for a minute that he might actually be hearing her, but she knew he was asleep. His heartbeat sounded on the monitor, strong and steady. Well, maybe a little fast, but that was because of the head injury, she imagined, putting stress on all his systems.

  There was a gentle tap on the door facing.

  “Time to go, I’m afraid,” the nurse said softly. “I’ll give you another minute.” She smiled and left.

  “They’re making me leave,” Bodie told Cane. She grimaced. “I’d stay with you all night if they’d let me. I’d never leave you.” Her voice broke. She stood up. “You have to fight, do you hear me?” she managed gruffly. “You have to! Don’t you dare give up! If you do, I’ll…I’ll…” She swallowed her tears. “I don’t know what I’ll do,” she whispered, fear making her voice shake. “I can’t…live without you.”

  He stirred again. There was a soft explosion of breath from him, but he didn’t open his eyes and she was certain that he didn’t really hear her. She hoped not. She was suddenly embarrassed at what she was saying so openly.

  “Well, I’ve got to go,” she said in a whisper. “Tomorrow you’ll be awake and yelling at people, just like old times. Yes. You’ll be fine tomorrow. I know you will.”

  She bent over and pressed her lips to his forehead, beside the stitches. “Sleep and dream of all those beautiful women out there, just waiting for you to wake up and take them on dates. You’ll find one someday that you can love, maybe. You’ll be happy. That’s all I want. I just want you to live and be happy. Whatever it takes.” She stood up, her face drawn and pale.

  Cane’s face was different suddenly. It had more color. His breathing was stronger. His heartbeat was stronger. It was odd, when she’d come into the room at first he’d looked…pale and dangerously still.

  “The others will be back to see you tomorrow,” she said quietly. “I won’t come back. You need to get well. I just…make you angry, upset you. That’s the last thing you need. Sleep well. So long, Cane.”

  She turned and left, refusing to look back. She was sick at heart. Scared to death.

  The nurse was waiting. She was smiling. “His vital signs are improving,” she said softly. “They’re getting stronger by the minute.”

  Bodie looked at her oddly. “I thought he looked a little better when I left.”

  “Head injuries are tricky,” the nurse said as she walked Bodie out of the unit. “Sometimes it takes a little boost to bring patients through.” She turned and looked at the younger woman. “It isn’t scientific, but sometimes the human touch can make the difference.”

  “Will he live? Please say yes.” Bodie choked.

  The nurse smiled again. “None of us can be certain of anything in cases like this. But what do I think? I think he’ll pull through just fine. Now you go get some rest, okay?”

  “Okay,” Bodie said. And she smiled back.

  But she didn’t leave the hospital. She sat up in one of the most uncomfortable chairs she’d ever occupied and slept fitfully.

  When Mallory and Tank and Morie came in, very early, she was still sitting there.

  “Good Lord, why didn’t you come back to the motel and sleep in a bed?” Tank exclaimed when they woke her.

  “Too far away,” she whispered, and managed a smile. “The nurses let me sit with him for a while last night.”

  “Did they,” Mallory said, surprised.

  She nodded. “Can we ask somebody how he is this morning?” she wondered aloud, still worried. “I’m not family so I didn’t know who to ask.”

  “I’ll find out,” Mallory said, and went toward the desk.

  “You look terrible,” Morie told her, holding her hand. “It’s been a long night for all of us.”

  “Very long.” Bodie sighed.

  Mallory was back in a minute, smiling. “He wants bacon and eggs,” he said, and laughed out loud, prompting the others to laugh with him. “The doctor says he’s almost out of danger. They’ll be moving him out into a room later this morning.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Bodie exclaimed, bursting into tears.

  Morie hugged her. “Now, will you go back to the motel and get some proper
sleep?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Bodie said, and stood up with a sigh.

  “You can come back and see him later,” Tank mused, smiling.

  “No, that’s not a good idea,” Bodie said gently. “I just upset him. That’s the last thing he needs, in his condition. He needs to get well.” She forced a smile. “I thought I’d go back to the ranch, if nobody minds?”

  “Nobody minds,” Mallory said quietly. “If you’re sure that’s what you want?”

  “It’s what’s best for Cane,” she replied.

  “I’ll drive you,” Morie said. She reached up and kissed Mallory. “I’ll be back in an hour or two, okay?”

  “Okay. Drive carefully.”

  “You know I will.” A secret smile passed between them, missed by everybody, as if something was going on that the others weren’t privy to.

  “Anything you want us to tell Cane?” Tank asked.

  “Just…that I’m glad he’s better,” Bodie said. “Just that.”

  “See you later, then,” Tank said.

  She nodded, following Morie out of the building.

  Cane was subdued when his brothers went in to see him. He was quiet and thoughtful, and he didn’t say much.

  “You going to be okay?” Tank asked worriedly.

  “I think so,” Cane said. “Where’s Bodie?” he asked, glancing past his brothers with an odd expression on his drawn face. “Wouldn’t they let her come in with you?”

  “Morie took her back to the ranch,” Mallory replied quietly.