by Tina Leonard
“Tight ship maybe, but we are not Texas’s most wholesome family. There’s plenty of room for you to do whatever you want to do, Laredo.”
“I didn’t say I needed to sow more wild oats. If I sow any more oats, my field’s gonna get harvested.” Laredo laughed at Frisco’s wry expression. “I said I wanted to do something big, and I don’t think I can do that in Union Junction. I figure I’m gonna have to go away to do it.”
“Come back a hero?”
“I don’t have to be a hero for anyone but myself.”
Frisco snorted. “Then what’s the point?”
“The point is that I’d know. I would know that I had reached a higher potential.”
It was no different from his chafing about expanding the business, Frisco supposed. All the brothers had wandering feet to some extent. His own grouchiness was due to the feeling of being penned-in.
Glancing at his watch, he realized it was nearly time to get the call from Annabelle. He did think Annabelle was cute, though he’d told his brother differently. He just didn’t want to think about her too much. Until she left the ranch, he felt responsible for her and Emmie, but after that, life would go back to normal for him.
Pausing as he bent over, he realized she had put a crack in his boredom. He’d been a trifle relieved when the roads had been closed, though he’d been careful not to show that he’d welcome an extra day to get to know her.
That was a heavy admission for his conscience.
“What the hell are you doing, Frisco?”
Laredo was looking at him strangely. Frisco tossed the bag down and stood, glaring.
“I was laying a bag. What the hell did it look like I was doing?”
“I don’t want to say, but you being stooped over and stuck like that was kinda weird. It looked like you’d gone into a trance. Is your back going out?”
“Why would my back go out?” Frisco demanded, becoming supremely annoyed.
“Because you’re thirty-six. Let’s switch. You hand me the bags, and I’ll lay them.”
“I’m fine! Mind your own business.” It wasn’t a pain in his back that had hit him; it was the pain of realizing Annabelle was on his mind for the thirtieth time that day, and it was still early.
“I’m getting down. You come up here.” Laredo hopped down from the trailer.
“Get your butt back up there! I said I’m fine.”
“Quit being stubborn. It’s time we changed places. You’re going to be sore as all heck tomorrow, and we’re going to have to keep laying for some time. Don’t be pigheaded.”
“I’m not. If you don’t get back up in that truck, Laredo, I’m going to squash you like a bug.”
“I don’t think so, since you’re the one who can’t stand up straight.” Laredo did a fake boxing, punch counter-punch in the air. “I could go rings around you, bro.”
Frisco could no longer contain his irritation. “I am going to squash you, Laredo. You’ve been needing a good hammering all winter, and I’m—”
Laredo landed a soft punch to his chest, by gosh, it was a baby one, just playful, Frisco knew, even as he felt himself slipping on an ice patch and falling toward the river. A little tap like that shouldn’t have thrown him, but the next thing he knew, he was tumbling down the embankment, rolling over rocks and boulders on his way to the rushing water. A sharp pain went through his leg, and the next thing he knew, he was flat on his back and a white-haired, red-cheeked Santa Claus in work clothes was staring into his face.
“You all right?” Santa asked him.
“I’m fine, Santa, sir,” Frisco said. “Where’s your sleigh?”
“Oh, hell,” Santa said.
“You’re not supposed to swear. The elves might start using bad language, and then what would Mrs. Claus say?” Frisco said.
“Mrs. Claus…uh, okay, Frisco. Hang on, buddy. My name’s Jerry. You remember me, don’t you?”
Frisco thought so, but he wasn’t sure. There were stars in his head and blinding pain in his leg, and suddenly, he didn’t care if Santa cursed anymore or not because he was probably going to let out a good-sized string of dictionary-excluded words himself.
“Frisco! What the hell happened?”
He opened his eyes to see Laredo staring down at him. Now that was a mug he recognized. “Laredo, you dumb-ass. You pushed me down the dam.”
“Can you move your arms?”
“Of course.” Frisco tried to show him, but he felt awfully weak.
“All right. We’ll call Doc Gonzalez. He’ll be here in a minute, and you’ll be all set up good as new. Don’t move, okay, Frisco?”
Frisco wanted to shrug, but he was tired and cold. His phone rang and he remembered Annabelle was supposed to call him to tell him she was all right.
“Guess I should have been the one to call and tell her I was all right,” Frisco said to no one. “She’s fine, and I’m not.”
“Who do you want to call?” Santa-Jerry asked him.
“No one. She’s bad luck. I should have known she was bad luck. Women are, you know.”
“Uh, that’s right, Frisco. Whatever you say. Did someone get ahold of Doc Gonzalez?”
Why did Laredo sound so worried? He felt someone pull the phone from his pocket.
“Hello?” he heard Laredo say. “Hey, Annabelle. Glad to hear things are fine. Sandwiches if we want them? Well, you know what? We might be coming back to the house in about thirty minutes or so, so if you’ve got sandwiches and coffee out, that would be great. Frisco’s had a little, um, fall. I think he’s fine, but unless Doc Gonzalez says he needs to get checked out at the hospital, we may leave him at home with you. Would you mind having two babies to take care of?”
“Shut the hell up, Laredo,” Frisco said, his head clearing enough to realize he was the butt of a joke.
“Thanks, Annabelle. We’ll see you soon.”
The phone was shoved back into his pocket. “I like a woman who does what she’s told. She called right on time,” Frisco said.
“Oh, boy. Come on, Doc.”
“If women did what they were told, this would be a peaceful society,” Frisco continued.
“Oh, my Lord. It’s going to be Armageddon at the ranch. I hope Doc’s got something that’ll shut your stupid mouth, Frisco, ’cause you’re sure as hell going idiot on me.” Laredo leaned down to feel his hands. “Are you cold?”
“I’ve got moving blankets in the back of the truck,” Jerry said. “Hang on.”
“My leg hurts,” Frisco complained.
“We know. Just lie still.”
A heap of blankets landed on his chest, and Frisco decided he felt much warmer. Of course, Emmie had felt better, but she wasn’t here right now. She was at home, nice and toasty, where she belonged.
“You coulda broke my arm, Laredo. And then how would I hold Emmie?” he wondered.
“Jeez” was all the reply he got. He heard boots stamping, and then the pain in his leg hurt so bad he suddenly went lights-out.
ANNABELLE GASPED WHEN Laredo, Tex and Jerry brought a barely-cursing Frisco inside. “Is he all right?”
“He’s fine. Just ornery and unhappy and maybe a bit cold,” Laredo told her. “Is it easier to keep an eye on him upstairs or downstairs?”
“The baby sleeps upstairs. Might as well put him up there, too. Maybe Frisco will feel better in his own bed.” She watched as the brothers gingerly carried Frisco, mosh-pit style, up the stairs and turned to the left. Gently, they laid him down next to the sleeping Emmie.
“Don’t you dare wake that baby, Frisco,” Laredo commanded in a soft voice. “No grunts, no groans.”
“We’re going to need a baby monitor,” Tex said, “so that Annabelle doesn’t have to run up here every two seconds to take care of Frisco. The baby will give her less trouble than him.”
“Shut up,” Frisco said, but his voice was weary and Annabelle was pretty certain he was hurting more than he let on.
“It’s okay. He’ll be fine,” she s
aid. “Won’t you, Frisco?”
“Annabelle, Annabelle, my country ’tis of thee,” he sang. “Shake your groove thing, I’m your boogie man!”
She shot Laredo a questioning glance.
“The doc gave him a shot at his office. I think it went non-stop, direct flight to Frisco’s head,” Laredo explained.
“Something for the pain,” Tex clarified. “The X-ray showed a clean break in his leg, so that was easily addressed. We’re not too sure, but he might be a bit scrambled upstairs. He’s been behaving a bit oddly.”
“Oh?” Annabelle said, worried that maybe Frisco needed more medical attention than he’d got.
“Yeah, he keeps babbling about Emmie. And you. And burned dinner,” Tex explained. “We think that’s all pretty extraordinary behavior for our brother.”
Tex shot him a warning look. “Not extraordinary that he’d be talking about you and Emmie, of course. Frisco’s just not the most talkative man on the planet,” Tex clarified, his tone a definite override to Laredo’s slip. “Doc Gonzalez would like Frisco to rest tonight and see if he’s still addled tomorrow. If he is, we’ll take him in for a CT scan. We’d take him now, but the hospital’s overrun with outpatient care from the flooding and hypothermia from the cold.”
“Actually, we’ve all been stupid at one time or another,” Laredo said with a shrug. “We always come out of it in a few hours.”
“Except the time Last got kicked in the head. Remember that? We thought he was going to time travel permanently.”
“That dummy. He shouldn’t have been at the business end of that bronc like that. I still say Last was just yanking our chains, the freaky little garden gnome. It never takes any of us very long to shake off a little bump or bruise.” Laredo rolled his eyes, his expression somewhat haunted, as if he didn’t quite believe his own denial of Last’s condition.
“How is the sandbagging going?” Annabelle interrupted, all the while keeping an eye on Frisco. He glanced at Emmie sleeping next to him, pulled the blanket closer to her head and seemed satisfied with the adjustment.
“We’ll know tonight. We’re just going to keep laying sandbags and praying.” Tex nodded at his brother. “You gonna be all right with him?”
“We’ll be fine,” Annabelle assured him. “Grab some sandwiches on your way out.”
“Thanks, Annabelle. We don’t know what we would have done without you and the other Lonely Hearts ladies. They sure have been a big help in town.” Laredo tipped his hat to her. “If he gives you any trouble, smack him.”
“He’ll be fine.” She went to the door and watched them go down the stairs. “Be careful.”
The men raised their hands in parting. She went back inside the bedroom just in time to see Frisco scoot the baby nearly up under his arm.
“Come here, soft Emmie, and lower my blood pressure,” he crooned.
The baby never batted an eye at the adjustment, but Frisco had Annabelle blinking. She went to the side of the bed to stare down at him. “Do you want another pillow under your leg?”
“I’m fine. Thanks.”
“How do you feel?”
“Not as bad as when I got my leg caught in a chute at the rodeo, thanks. I’ll live.”
“Glad to hear it.”
He looked up at her. “Laredo did this to me.”
“You look capable of defending yourself.”
Frisco snorted. “He took a cheap shot at me.”
“Maybe you’re just feeling sorry for yourself? Pity-party psychosis brought on by the pain injection?”
“Maybe.” He closed his eyes before opening them to look at her steadfastly. “Come here and kiss me, Annabelle.”
Chapter Eight
Annabelle’s lips parted. Kiss Frisco? No way. Not while he was lying in a bed and medicated to the max. Kiss him? Never. Not while she was trying to get her life together. What a very bad idea.
She decided to ignore him.
“I’m sure a small kiss is all the medication I’d need, Anna-anna-bella-bella. Bella Anna.”
Her brows puckered. “Frisco, you obviously don’t handle medicine very well. Maybe I’ll have the doctor splint your mouth to match your leg.”
He squinted at her. “Just a quick one, to make my ouchy go away.”
She rolled her eyes at the big man, trussed up, helpless, with a baby under his arm, spouting nonsense. “Pathetic, Frisco. Really. You won’t want to remember this conversation in the morning.”
“I think you like me. Don’t you, Annabelle? Emmie sure does.”
“Emmie’s designs on you are not the same as mine,” she said starchily. Sitting down in the rocker across from him, she pulled out a book. “I have to wash some things, so go to sleep.”
“I’ll only be helpless one day. I want my kiss now, while I’m half-anaesthetized.”
“What good does that do?” Her heart beat harder as she considered his silly pleading.
“It makes me brave enough to ask a woman I know I shouldn’t ask for anything. Under normal circumstances, that is.”
“So you’re saying that a quick, sisterly kiss is something we could both forget when the drugs wear off.” Her brow quirked.
“I don’t know. Do drugs work like alcohol?”
“Do you often kiss women while you’re alcohol-impaired just so you won’t have to remember your behavior?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve always had to be fairly responsible.” His brow furrowed. “Maybe that’s why I’m so tempted now.”
“Well, I’m not impaired. And I’d remember.” Likely, she’d never forget it. He was a very appealing man.
He brightened. “We could get you impaired. Maybe Doc Gonzalez could give you a shot, too.”
“Thanks, no,” she said hastily. “I had enough of those in the hospital having Emmie.”
“Oh. Well, then, I guess I’m just going to have to do without.” His expression turned sad.
“Yes, I think you are.”
“Maybe it’s better that way.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“I probably wouldn’t like kissing you.”
Now he was heading from pathetic to whiny manipulative. Two could play that game. “I know I wouldn’t like kissing you.”
“Betcha a hundred bucks you would,” he said confidently.
She laughed. “I don’t need a hundred bucks.”
He frowned. “I’ll bet you your hundred-dollar bill back that you’ll like kissing me.”
“Really, Frisco, you have nothing to prove, and I don’t need the money.”
“Why not? Emmie might need a new dress some day.”
“I’m financially able to take care of Emmie. Don’t worry about her. And I owed you for the bus ticket. Why don’t you go to sleep now? You have to be tired.”
“Strangely enough, I feel strung like a bad guitar string.”
Great. She had to baby-sit the only six-foot-four male who went hyper on pain medication. Heaven forbid he should fold like a tent the way most people would.
“I changed my mind,” Frisco said suddenly. “I don’t want you to kiss me.” The fog had left his mind for just a minute, long enough for him to know he was making a royal ass of himself. She smelled good, like roses in his mother’s garden. Blond hair pushed back by a white headband fell smoothly in a gleaming curve to the edge of her chin. China-blue eyes, fringed by long black lashes, regarded him intently, stripping him of his bravado. She had full supple lips which were slicked with some kind of clear gloss, lips which Frisco thought would be fabulous for kissing and soothing other parts of his body, as well.
He stopped those thoughts in a hurry. Miss Annabelle and her dainty dress were a nightmare to a man who should want nothing more than to get her the hell out of his bedroom in a hurry. She was testing the limit of his strength—and worse, she’d made it clear she wanted no part of him. Had he really thought she would?
“I’d like a blanket, please. There’s one in the bottom of that dresser.” Emmie co
uld probably use a blanket, too. All she had was her baby blanket over her, and he didn’t want her catching a chill.
Annabelle got up, walked to the dresser, bent down to open the drawer. The white eyelet dress slid up a good three inches, revealing strong white legs, despite her quick tug at the hem to keep it in place. A sudden nurse fantasy ran all over him, making him hotter than a branding iron in a fire. But this was Annabelle. He couldn’t indulge in a nurse fantasy about her!
Closing the drawer, she turned, the cotton blanket in her hands.
Too late.
“Oh, my,” she said.
He groaned, unable to hide the erection making a tent of the sheet.
The front door slammed downstairs. Boots sounded on the stairwell.
Annabelle’s gaze met Frisco’s, then flew to his predicament. In a reflex action that caught him completely off-guard, she flung the folded blanket across the five-foot distance between them.
The heavy cotton landed on his lap with a thud, whooshing the air out of him and flattening whatever pride he had left.
“Annabelle, here’s a bottle of painkillers Doc Gonzalez thought Frisco might need,” Laredo said, stepping into the room, talking quietly until he saw that Frisco was awake and the baby was still asleep. “Dang, it’s hotter than hopping toads on summer cement in here, Frisco. Whaddya need a blanket for? Should I get you a fan?”
“No,” Frisco said between clenched teeth, his ears ringing.
“Perhaps he needs a pain pill rather than a blanket,” Laredo told Annabelle. “The doc said the shot wouldn’t last more than four hours or six, maybe. But Frisco’s so darn big, maybe it already wore off.”
“We’ll give him a while longer. Thanks.”
She smiled demurely at Laredo, and he smiled back, clearly taking a second look at the delicate woman. Frisco allowed his head to fall back against the pillow as he closed his eyes. Laredo’s boots thumped down the stairs, and the front door slammed.
“You did that on purpose,” he complained.
