“Positive.” Nathan poured hot water into the thermos and added a few spoons of coffee and sugar. “It’ll only take me twenty minutes each way. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Just be careful. Your shoulder and back are still healing.”
“It’s been over seven months now, dad. I’ll see you soon.” Nathan strode out of the kitchen without a backward glance at anyone.
“Damn boy’s going to get himself killed one day if he doesn’t slow down.” Paul pushed his coffee away. He stood at the kitchen window watching sunlight break through the clouds.
Matthew emptied the last of his coffee down the sink. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t take the bike that needs its brakes replaced.” He grabbed another piece of cake before vanishing into the hallway. Within minutes they heard Nathan growling at his brother, just before the front door closed with a bang.
The only person making a sound in the kitchen was Catherine. She gurgled around a mouthful of fist, dribble spilling down her face and bib.
Jenny joined her husband at the window staring at her two sons as they stomped across the back yard. “Matthew will make sure he doesn’t go off in a huff and forget something.”
“He’s been testing himself too much and it’s all my fault.”
Jenny wrapped her arm around her husband’s waist. “Don’t blame yourself. Nathan’s going stir-crazy. He wants to be out on the land, doing what he’s always done. He needs to prove to himself that he can manage the ranch before we leave.”
“You’re leaving?” Amy’s gaze flicked between Jenny and Paul.
“In about two months.” Jenny moved back across the room. She sat at the table, resting her hand over Amy’s. “My arthritis is getting worse and the cold winters make me as stiff as a board. When we were in Florida we bought an apartment just around the corner from my sister.”
Amy stared between Jenny and Paul. “But the ranch is your life.”
Jenny squeezed Amy’s fingers. “Our family is our life. We love the ranch, but we love you all even more.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “Just think of all the holidays you can have with us.”
Paul looked out the window, directly at the barn. “Nathan’s put a helmet on. At least his head will be okay.”
A lump settled in Amy’s throat. Jenny and Paul were leaving the land they loved and Nathan was off doing something foolhardy to prove a point. She bit her bottom lip, determined to ignore the tears skimming across her eyes. Everyone’s life was changing, moving in different directions. So much had happened over the last few months that she still woke up some mornings trying to figure out when all the chaos had begun.
She wiped Catherine’s chin, remembering seeing Nathan for the first time after his accident. She was used to trauma patients, used to the drips, drains and tubes the hospital used to save lives. But she’d never taken any notice of the noise. The constant beeps and groans of people and machines. As she’d sat beside Nathan’s bed, she’d begun to take comfort from the noise; the constant motion of the intensive care unit, the hushed whispers of the families keeping vigil beside their loved ones.
When she’d arrived back in Chicago she’d been exhausted and worried. Her apartment had been too quiet, too far away from the people she cared most about in the world. Too far away from Nathan.
Nothing could have prepared her for Catherine’s arrival a few days later. Or the disappointment that had weighed her down when she’d seen her mom for the first time in years.
Jenny gave Amy’s hand another squeeze. “Let’s take Catherine through to the front room. She can show us how clever she is at walking.”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Paul said. He walked toward the hallway. “A letter arrived for Amy yesterday and I put it in the office.”
Amy lifted Catherine out of the highchair and followed Jenny into the front lounge. As soon as her sister spotted a fluffy orange cat curled in front of the fire she let out an excited squeal.
Jenny smiled at Amy. “Sally came back from the animal shelter last week with Oscar. The poor thing was on death row and I just couldn’t say no. He’s a gentle old boy.”
Oscar stood up and stretched his round body. He looked at Catherine with amber eyes, then headed out of the room with his fluffy tail pointing in the air.
“It looks as though Oscar knows when it’s time to leave.” Amy put Catherine on the floor and watched her crawl as fast as a bullet train across the room. The fluffy orange ball took one look at her sister and ran out the door.
Paul bent down and turned Catherine around. “This way, little one.” He handed Amy an envelope. “Here’s your mail. I’ll let you know if anything else gets sent here.”
Amy glanced down at the brown envelope, then looked again. She tore it open. “It’s from Catherine’s case manager. Child Protective Services are sending someone from their Bozeman office to review our living arrangements.” Her eyes skimmed over the text, stopping at the last paragraph. Her heart leaped in her chest. “They want to discuss something about Catherine’s custody arrangements.”
“It’s probably just a formality,” Paul said.
Amy walked over to the couch and dropped into the seat. “But we talked about what needed to happen when I became Catherine’s caretaker. What if mom wants Catherine to live with her?”
“I don’t think she’d be able to do that.” Jenny sat on the couch and rubbed Amy’s arm. “She agreed to Catherine moving here.”
Amy’s hand shook as she re-read the letter. “What if she can? What if I have to move back to Chicago? I can’t look after Catherine there.”
“It’ll be alright. When did the case worker say they were coming to see you?”
“In a couple of weeks.” Tears gathered in Amy’s eyes. “What am I going to do?”
“You’re going to do exactly what you’re doing now. You’ve found a lovely home for Catherine and you’ve got us to support you. She’s safe and happy. That’s all that matters.”
“But what if they think Catherine needs to spend time with mom? She can’t go back to Chicago. Mom will disappear and I’ll never see my sister again.”
Catherine crawled over to Amy. She pulled herself up against the couch, wobbling like a drunken sailor on her little legs. She grinned and banged her hand against Amy’s leg. “Ma ma.”
Amy lifted Catherine into her arms and gave her a big hug. “We’re going to be okay.” She took a deep breath and put Catherine back on the floor. “You’re right. It’s probably a formality. If mom has changed her mind they can’t take her request seriously, not with her past.”
Paul sat down beside Amy. “Do you want us to meet the case worker with you?”
“I’ll give the person a call on Monday. They might just want to visit the house and Catherine’s daycare. If it’s anything more I’ll let you know.”
“You do that, honey.” Paul patted her knee. “I’m going to make us all another hot drink and bring what’s left of the cake in here. I think we deserve it after that letter.”
Nathan jumped clear of the helicopter, wincing as pain shot along his back. He pulled his hat down low, holding onto the brim to stop it blowing into the blades roaring above his head. The cold midday air tore through his jacket. It froze his aching body until all he felt was stiff and sore.
He’d proved one thing in his jack-ass decision to drive halfway across the ranch. He’d turned into an idiot. The four-wheeler had jarred every bone is his body and made a mockery of the recovery he thought he’d made. By the time he’d made it back, Ian had been waiting for him, giving him an earful about how damn stupid he’d been.
“How did the flight go?” Matthew jogged across the yard. Benny, his three-legged dog, hobbled along beside him.
Nathan kept moving toward his parent’s house. “The storm tore down a section of fencing at the back of the ranch. Sean’s moved up the ridge with Dave to fix it. Evan’s going to meet them in about an hour.”
“Do you want me to head up there too?”
Natha
n shook his head. “Sean can sort it out. I’ll need you to round up the cattle in the eastern pasture with Toby tomorrow and bring the herd further down into the valley. Snow’s thick up there and the feeds getting scarce.”
Benny yapped and took off across the gravel, heading back into the barn as fast as his three legs could carry him.
“Mom’s put lunch aside for you.” Matthew stuffed his hands into his jacket. “Amy’s still here if you want her to take a look at your back.”
Nathan clenched his jaw. “What are you talking about?”
“A blind man could see you’re in pain.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me that a hot shower won’t cure. Did you get the engine fixed?”
“I need to get some parts from town.”
“Don’t let me stop you.”
“You’re not. I promised dad I’d follow Amy home in case the weather turns bad. Steve’s workshop will be closed by the time I hit Bozeman so he’s taken the parts I need back to his place and I’ll pick them up from there.”
Nathan grunted and followed his brother up the porch steps. “What happened last night with Amy?”
“Nice try.” Matthew scuffed his boots against the mat outside the front door. “She made me promise not to say anything.”
“That hasn’t stopped you before.”
“Yeah, but your promises don’t come with food attached. She’s going to make me a double-crusted apple pie. Tess gave her the recipe she uses at her Café.”
Even Nathan had to admit that Tess made the best apple pie he’d ever tasted. If you didn’t get to Angel Wings Café early you missed out. And surprise, surprise, Matthew always headed straight there when he went into Bozeman.
Nathan wiped his feet, then shut the door behind him. His boots felt hard and stiff, like they’d been stuck to his feet. The warm air inside the house made his nose run and his skin tingle. And his back throb like merry hell.
His mom appeared in the hallway, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “I thought that must be you boys. We heard Ian’s helicopter leave a few minutes ago. Is everything okay?”
Nathan unbuttoned his jacket with numb fingers that felt clumsy against the thick sheepskin. “There were a few more fences down than we thought. We haven’t lost too much stock, and what has gone is probably over at the McGill’s. Sean’s heading into the hills to do some repairs.” He peeled off his jacket, holding back a groan.
His mom’s gaze dropped to his shoulders. “You hurt yourself on the four-wheeler, didn’t you?”
“I’m fine.”
Her scowl made him squirm in his socks.
“I’ll put your lunch in the microwave. Your father’s fallen asleep in his chair.”
“Can you give me thirty minutes? I need a shower.”
She pressed her lips together. “Come back to the kitchen when you’re done, but don’t go crashing and banging around the house. Catherine’s asleep in her cot.”
Matthew pushed his boots off. “Where’s Amy?”
“In the kitchen with me.”
“Is she making apple pie?”
“That stomach of yours is a bottomless pit, Matthew Gray. When you’ve hung that jacket up you can come and raid the pantry.” She looked down at his hands. “After the grease and oil has been washed off.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He ran down the hallway, skidding on the wooden floor as he rounded the corner to the downstairs bathroom.
Nathan turned to follow his brother.
“Not so fast. How bad is the pain?”
“I’ll take some pills when I get out of the shower.”
“You can take them now. Where did you put them?”
His mom’s face had set in a determined scowl. He knew that look and she wouldn’t leave him alone until he’d had his damn pills. “I’ll get them.”
He walked across to the hooks on the wall and rummaged through his jacket pockets. His painkillers were like horse pills; big, brown and hard to swallow. Even with a gallon of water following them down, they stuck like glue to his throat.
His mom followed him into the kitchen, watching him every step of the way.
Amy had his dad’s crossword book open in front of her, a pen tapping against her chin. “What’s an eight letter word that means neutral? It’s something, something, B?”
“Unbiased,” he said.
Amy shook her head. “Why didn’t I think of that?” She scribbled down the letters, then stared at the next clue, scribbling a bit more.
Nathan headed across to the faucet and grabbed a clean glass out of the dishwasher. The pills washed down as bad as he knew they would.
“You need to eat something with those things,” Amy said.
Nathan looked across at the table. She hadn’t moved. Her head was still bent over the crossword. “How do you know what I’m taking?”
“I saw the bottle a couple of weeks ago. Now I’m looking for a nine letter word that means stubborn. Starts with O.” Her mouth tilted into a smile.
“Obnoxious.”
“Wrong.” Amy looked up, her brown eyes glowing with mischief. “Try again.”
His mom opened the fridge and pulled out a loaf of bread. “I’ll make you a sandwich before you head to the shower, Nathan. Sit down and don’t annoy Amy.”
“She can look after herself, mom. And you’ve got it the wrong way around. She’s the one annoying me.”
“On second thoughts, obnoxious fits perfectly.”
The sweet smile on Amy’s face made him forget about the pain in his back. Until he tried to sit down.
Amy dropped her pen and started to get up.
“Leave it. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst, how’s the pain?”
Nathan tried to relax his back but his muscles twisted into knots so tight that his eyes burned. “I gave up counting when I left school.”
“Don’t be smart. Answer the question.” His mom put a sandwich in front of him and stood beside the table with her hands on her hips.
“Seven,” he huffed.
Amy raised her eyebrows.
“Maybe eight.” His back cramped. He groaned before he caught the sound.
Amy pushed his sandwich in front of him. “Eat, and then someone can help you get into the shower.”
“Like hell,” he roared.
“Shh. Catherine and your dad are asleep.”
“What’s going on in here?” Matthew made a bee-line for the pantry. “Sounds like Nathan’s not getting his own way again.”
“Matthew can give you a hand to get in the shower.” Amy picked up her pen. “Someone needs to help you out of your clothes.”
“Eww. Do I really need to see him naked?” Matthew smiled around a mouthful of muffin.
Nathan grabbed the sandwich and shoved half of it into his mouth. He glared around the room. No one took any notice. Amy had gone back to her crossword puzzle. His mom had disappeared behind the fridge door and his brother had found a stash of biscuits. “I’ll be back soon. And I’m locking the bathroom door.”
“Way to go, bro’.” Matthew raised a handful of biscuits in a mock salute. “Just don’t slip otherwise I’ll have to knock down a perfectly good door.”
He pulled himself out of his chair, stuffing the rest of his sandwich in his mouth before he groaned, and ended up with his whole family in the bathroom.
By the time he’d finished in the shower, everyone had moved into the front lounge. And everyone watched him as he crossed the room and sat on one of the chairs. “I’m fine.”
Amy put down the magazine she’d been reading. “Did the hospital give you any moisturizer to rub into your skin?”
“Why?”
“I’ll massage it into you back. It might help relax your muscles.”
Amy’s hands weren’t getting anywhere near his body. He didn’t have any problem rubbing the sticky white cream into his skin twice a day to keep the grafts soft and supple. And to stop the itchin
ess that made him half-crazy. “I’ve already put some on.”
His dad peered at him over the top of his glasses. “Let her help, son. It might take some of the pain away.”
Amy stood up and held out her hand. “Come on. We can go into the kitchen.”
Everyone looked as though they were ganging up on him. His dad kept peering at him without blinking. His mom’s mouth had set in a straight line and his brother had a giant smirk plastered across his face. “Fine. But I’m going home soon.” Amy’s hand was still dangling in front of him. “I can get out of the chair on my own.”
“Okay, Mr. Independent. I’ll follow you.”
He glared at his family, then hauled himself upright. He felt like an old man. Every joint and muscle groaned under the strain of carrying over six feet of muscle and bone around.
Amy followed him out of the lounge, her feet barely making a sound on the wooden floors. She pulled a kitchen chair out from the table and waved him toward it. “Where’s the cream?”
“We don’t need cream. You can massage my back over the top of my shirt.”
“Tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m serious. My shirt stays on my back.”
Amy crossed her arms in front of her chest, staring at him with a determined gleam in her eyes. If he’d been more of a gentleman he wouldn’t have noticed the way her sweater pulled tight over her breasts, or the way a loose strand of hair curled around the side of her neck. The same neck he’d nibbled on too many weeks ago.
But he didn’t feel the least bit gentlemanly. His whole body hurt so damn much that no one’s hands could possibly help what a giant dose of painkillers hadn’t been able to cure.
The gleam in Amy’s eyes turned stubborn. “I know you don’t want me to see your back, but I’m not massaging you through cotton. The shirt comes off.”
“Not today it doesn’t.”
“Really? And what are you going to tell your mom when she asks how your non-existent massage went?”
“Moving away from Montana hasn’t done you any good. You’ve turned into a bossy vixen.”
“You’re such a sweet talker. It’s a wonder you haven’t got a horde of women lined up waiting for you. Now where’s the cream?”
Forever in Love (Montana Brides) Page 12
