Cowboy for Keeps

by Debra Clopton

  Only problem he found with that line of thinking: doing it. Not easy with her poking and prodding his shoulder with gentle, efficient fingers. Twelve years.

  Their age difference wouldn’t have seemed so vast a difference before the plane crash. But right now, it was generations. He’d never been one to date women more than a couple of years younger than him. He’d always found women his own age to be more in touch with life as he enjoyed it.

  “Lift your arm, please,” she asked, breaking the silence. Holding her hand out, she waited for him to do as she asked.

  He raised his arm but couldn’t get it as high as her hand, which was about midway between his elbow and shoulder.

  “Fine. On a scale of one to ten, what’s the pain?”

  “About a seven,” he managed.

  “On the conservative side?” she asked with a knowing look. One that said she knew exactly how bad he hurt.

  He nodded, letting her know she was right as he let his arm down. His shoulder throbbed.

  After a few more questions and then some evaluation of his hip and back she finally moved away, giving him some much-needed space. The woman was all business and he liked the way she worked. Her serious expression belied her attractiveness as she asked questions and jotted notes. Impressive.

  “Just as I’d thought from reviewing your charts,” she said. “We’ll start with some simple, isolation exercises to help the rotator cuff. It will show steady improvement as we go and you really shouldn’t need that sling for long. The doctors put you in it just so you wouldn’t strain it any more before we could get started working. That might help you sleep better.”

  He rubbed his jaw. His shoulder wasn’t what was keeping him awake at night or pushing him to find ways to keep his mind occupied. Bad dreams were doing a bang-up job of that all on their own. “That’d be good,” he said, and though he knew it wasn’t going to help him sleep, he was ready to ditch the sling and not put it back on. “You can burn it right now and I won’t complain.”

  She smiled and her doe eyes twinkled. “I’ll give you that honor if you’d like. You just have to promise me you won’t overuse your arm or I’ll have to make you wear the sling again.”

  “Scout’s honor I’ll behave.”

  “Good. With the hip and back it’ll take more time, but the good news is you’ll be up and out of that chair in less than two weeks. Then the real work will begin. You have nothing to be worried about, though, you will mend.”

  He let her words sink in. The doctors had said the same thing, but he hadn’t believed them. Not with the pain he was experiencing. “You’re sure?” He felt vulnerable voicing the question but the fact that Amanda had been through what she’d been through made him pretty sure she understood his hesitancy in believing.

  Amanda crossed her arms, leaned her head to the side and gave him an assuring look. “I’m sure. You just have to give it your all. That hip is going to complain, but I’ll help with those spasms and every day it will get better.”

  Only time would tell whether his putting his trust in Amanda was well-founded—but he did feel encouraged. And that was a good feeling. “Then let’s get busy. Results are what I’m interested in. I’d like to make that two into one.”

  “Realistically, I don’t see that happening.” She gave him a frank look, her lips curved upward gently. “But for some reason I get the feeling that when you set your mind to something you make it happen.”

  Thoughts of the crash flashed across his mind. He rubbed his temple but it didn’t ease the throbbing behind his eyes. “Yeah, that’s me. I get it done.”

  Chapter Six

  “So how are y’all getting along?” Seth asked Wyatt on the second day after Amanda’s arrival. He’d insisted on bringing the tractor over to smooth out the ground destroyed by the hogs.

  Fighting a spasm shooting through him from his hip, Wyatt hid a grimace from Seth. “We get along fine.”

  Seth didn’t look impressed by his answer. “Fine? I don’t like the sound of that. Are you still giving her a hard time?”

  “We’ll be fine, Seth. Stop worrying. If she doesn’t get herself killed acting impulsively like she did last night.”

  “What did she do?”

  “She came out of her trailer when all the hogs were in the yard.”

  Seth looked alarmed. “Why would she do a fool thing like that? She could have fallen—” He clamped his mouth shut midsentence and frowned. “Did she tell you about her accident?”

  “You mean being hit by a drunk driver?” Wyatt asked, wondering what was wrong with Seth.

  “Yeah,” Seth said. “What did she say?”

  “That she was hurt badly—almost killed—and had to be homeschooled.”

  “Did she say what her injuries were?”

  “No. I didn’t ask her to elaborate. I’m sure if she’d wanted to talk about it she would have told me. That must have been horribly traumatic for a kid her age.” He knew what he was going through with his nightmares. “Why, did you read about it in her file?”

  Seth looked angry. “Yeah. She didn’t have any business out there with those hogs.”

  Wyatt felt remorse. “I can’t let her take all the blame. I was on the porch and one of them headed my way. She thought I was about to be run over by the thing and I guess she thought she could save me.”

  “What were you thinking? You’re in a wheelchair, Wyatt. And she could have really been hurt. That’s a little different than when you, me and Cole used to hunt those things. What were you planning to do? Play chicken with them? Wrestle them with one arm?”

  Maybe he shouldn’t have admitted his guilt and avoided this dose of reality. He hadn’t had a clue what he was going to do once he got out there… “I’d have handled it,” he snapped. “The important thing was that Amanda came charging out there in the middle of them and could have been injured—she could have gotten knocked down. At least they were too busy trying to get away to hurt her. Still, the crazy one that was coming at me could have turned on her.”

  “So I guess you jumped her pretty bad?”

  “Not too bad. But she doesn’t take criticism too well.”

  “Ha!” Seth laughed. “You and her have something in common.”

  Wyatt shot him a scowl.

  “It’s true and you know it.”

  “She’s not happy that I’m working, either.”

  “She tell you that?”

  “She might as well have. It was written all over her face the moment she found out.”

  A wide grin spread across Seth’s face along with a teasing glint that could only be described as a Turner trait through and through. “Why does this woman bug you so much? You are irritated about everything having to do with her.”

  Wyatt prickled. “Hey, you and Cole were the ones that hired her. I still don’t know what you two knuckleheads were thinking. She’s too young. And for the most part, she’s only worked with kids. She is totally not right for this job. The hog incident proved that. And yet she’s here. Why is that?”

  “Because, big bro, we had hired someone else who had to back out for family reasons. Amanda was—well, bluntly, she was a last resort. But her boss assured us that she was far more capable than the other physical therapist to handle your case. So we took her. You’re just going to have to straighten up and fly right. It’s going to be great.”

  Yeah, right. He’d believe that when he saw it. “And she doesn’t bug me. It’s not personal. She just isn’t right for the job.” Well it was a little personal. But he sure wasn’t opening his big mouth again and saying that.

  Seth gave him a look of complete disbelief. “You are so bothered by this woman that it isn’t even funny. All those other excuses aside, I’m curious if it has anything to do with the fact that you find her attractive. She’s pretty, got grit and enough determination that I figured you’d like her.”

  “She’s twelve years younger than me—”

  “So. You’re not in high school anymore
. It doesn’t matter.”

  Wyatt disagreed. Yeah, sure, no doubt about it—he did find his physical therapist attractive. “Twelve years is too big a difference to me. I’m not looking to date Amanda anyway. She’s here for a job and all I want right now is to get mobile. That’s more important than a date.”

  For some reason, Seth’s grin told him he wasn’t buying any of that. Too bad. “Stop grinning, brother, and get back on that tractor and smooth out this ground.”

  “She seems to get along really well…I mean, you know, since being in such bad shape.”

  “She does. That drunk driver almost killed her and had no injuries. It’s criminal.”

  Wyatt had been careless in flying his plane when he shouldn’t have. “I’m grateful that my plane crash didn’t harm anyone other than me,” he said remorsefully. “I wouldn’t have been able to live with that. What if I’d killed someone?” The idea made him ill. His gut clenched and his back started tightening up. He knew any minute it would seize up and put him in a world of pain.

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Seth said, all humor evaporated. “Wyatt, it’s not the same thing. You didn’t knowingly have that crash and you weren’t drinking and flying. I hope you don’t hold that against yourself. It was an accident. That’s all. Just like Mom and Dad’s crash.”

  Wyatt grimaced against the pain shooting through him and fought to hide it. “I knew better than to go up in the middle of a storm like that. That makes me liable in my book. It was a straightforward act of negligence. It’s different than Dad. His crash was on a clear day. He did nothing stupid.”

  Seth looked away, studying the ground as he thought of a comeback. Wyatt knew that deep down Seth had to agree. Seth was too responsible, too black and white where right and wrong were concerned not to see it Wyatt’s way. It was only his protective instincts for Wyatt that had him making excuses.

  “You can agree with me,” Wyatt said. “You know good and well that you tried to talk me out of it. I should have listened.”

  Seth took a deep breath, thumbed his Stetson back off his forehead and looked at him with worried eyes. “Come on, Wyatt, maybe that’s all well and true. But you have to snap out of this mode of thinking. It’s eating you up. You can’t keep second-guessing your decision. You took off in the middle of that storm—you’d done it before with no problems. You’re one of the best twin-engine pilots around. You’ve never had an incident before—and that time when you had engine malfunctions you got that plane back to the airstrip on a wing and a prayer, basically. This happened because it happened. Period. Let it go and get on with it.”

  Wyatt closed his eyes against the pain ripping through him and the images of being trapped started playing across his mind. Not good. He opened his eyes to meet Seth’s studying him with concern. “I’m fine, Seth. Stop worrying.”

  “You aren’t and we both know it. I’m going to smooth out this ground, then head back home. My advice to you is to lighten up. Stop thinking about how you lost control—you and I both have a problem with control. God is in control even when we think we’re the ones doing the driving. God has a plan. You can’t see what that is right now, but believe me, He can. I learned that the hard way. Just go with the flow and get yourself well. Stop looking back and blaming yourself and thank God that you didn’t hurt anyone else in that crash. And by all means do what your pretty physical therapist is telling you to do so you’ll get back to being yourself.”

  Wyatt wasn’t sure if he’d ever get back to being himself. What Seth said was true. He’d found out in that crash just how easily and quickly control could be lost.

  Seth started to walk away toward the tractor but stopped. “There was only one perfect man and his name was Jesus. You’re human, Wyatt. Always have been, always will be. Humans all make mistakes, so give yourself a break, won’t ya? Cole won’t get married until you’re able to stand up and be his best man. He’s counting on you to be there for him body and spirit.”

  Wyatt watched Seth head across the yard toward the tractor. Catching Seth’s grin as he climbed up into the seat, Wyatt was reminded of how strong Seth had been during the deaths of their parents. The serious one, Seth had always been steady and true. Sometimes too serious, but always the one with wisdom beyond his years. Wyatt knew Seth’s advice was as true now as it always was, but right now, with the things going on in his head, taking that advice wasn’t as cut-and-dried as it should be.

  “Hey, big brother, while you’re working on standing up, forget about those twelve years and get to know Amanda. She seems like the kind of gal who might be great for you.”

  “Mow, Seth.” That advice he wouldn’t take. Right now the last thing he needed to be thinking about was a woman.

  Seth plopped into the seat. “Hey, I’m goin’, but I’m just sayin’—”

  “And I’m just sayin’ mow.” Wyatt thought about Amanda and knew that if she heard what Seth was saying she’d probably laugh her way off the property and back to San Antonio…and well-warranted on her part.

  “So, why don’t you work with kids anymore? Did you get tired of it?”

  The question took Amanda by surprise. She was standing in the kitchen taking a chicken casserole out of the oven. Earlier that day, Seth’s wife, Melody, and Cole’s fiancée, Susan, had stopped by to meet her. They’d come bearing food and warm welcomes. Melody was a history teacher and Susan was a veterinarian. They hadn’t stayed long but she’d enjoyed meeting them. Wyatt visited with them some, but after they left he’d immediately gone back to being about as communicative as a rock for the rest of therapy. And now he wanted to ask her this? Of all things to want to talk about.

  She set the hot dish on the burner to cool and then removed her oven mitts as she debated exactly how to answer his question. “No. I didn’t get tired of it. I just needed a change.”

  She reached inside the cabinet and pulled out a plate for him and one for herself—to take back to her trailer like she’d been doing since she arrived. She could feel his blue eyes on her and had to make herself not feel self-conscious. The fact that she found him attractive bothered her. It didn’t help matters at all. Call her daft and it would fit.

  “I thought you told me the other day that you loved your work.”

  The man remembered way too much of their conversation in detail. “I did.” She weighed her options. She wasn’t going to tell him about not being able to have children, but she needed to tell him something. “Look, I was supposed to get married and my fiancé decided he didn’t want to. That tends to make you need a change of scenery. I decided coming here to Mule Hollow for a few months was a good idea.” There, that was about the best answer she could stand to give. It was the truth, too. Just not all the details.

  She dished the chicken and rice onto his plate, glancing at him when he didn’t say anything. He had an intense expression on his face as he watched her.

  “That had to be rough.” His voice gentled.

  His compassion was unexpected. “Yes,” she said, inhaling slowly, trying to steady her rattled nerves. “It was. But it is what it is. I’m better off knowing up front.”

  “True, but that doesn’t make it hurt less.”

  She stared at him briefly, startled all the more. With shaking hands, she dished her own meal onto the plate then grabbed the foil, ripped a piece off and covered her food with it. She needed to go home—to her trailer across the yard. “But I have my work and that’s a good thing,” she finally said, hoping he didn’t ask too many more questions. Hoping he let it go at that. She wasn’t ready for questions.

  Not from him, anyway.

  Wyatt studied Amanda and wondered what she was hiding. He’d been thinking about their conversation a lot, though he’d tried not to.

  “So you’re here to work. To escape?” What was he doing?

  She set his plate on the table beside the glass of tea and the neatly folded napkin. She’d taken care with the place setting and now she straightened the napkin—despite that i
t didn’t need it. She was upset, nervous. He waited to see what else she said. Nervous people talked if you kept quiet and gave them room.

  “I guess I could deny it but there isn’t really any reason to. Yes. I’m here to work and forget and…” She took a step back and smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. No, her eyes were too bright. “Well, anyway, here’s your supper. I’m going to head over to my house.” She turned away and grabbed her plate. She was almost in tears.

  Wyatt had the impulse to ask her to stay and talk more—but it was clear talking about it upset her, so he didn’t. She wasn’t ready. And this was more personal than he wanted to get….

  But how had a man hurt her like that?

  He forced himself to move his chair up to the table. “Thanks for the supper,” he said, clamping down on his natural instinct to dig deeper. Now wasn’t the time…and it wasn’t his business anyway.

  She barely looked at him. “You’re welcome. Call if you need anything.”

  He watched her go. Her shiny dark hair swung in time to her step as she moved. Why had her fiancé dumped her? It didn’t matter really, because she was better off without him if he didn’t love her. It was evident that she’d loved him, though—still did, from the way she’d reacted. Her emotion had been real. Her heartache was evident; Wyatt didn’t like seeing her pain. But she was right—her work would help her escape. To cope, at least, just as his was helping him.

  Chapter Seven

  Amanda hurried out of Wyatt’s as though the house was on fire. She shouldn’t have talked about Jonathan. She hadn’t planned on telling anyone—especially Wyatt. And now she’d gone and opened up to him like that, when keeping her mouth shut would have been the better way.

  Anxious, she sank into the kitchen chair of her travel trailer and felt the walls closing in on her. She’d laid her Bible beside her bed when she’d unpacked, but she hadn’t opened it. Now she reached for it, feeling an urgent need.

  But, like all the other times she’d tried to read since the breakup, she couldn’t do it. It felt like there was a barrier between her and the words written on the page. Oh, she could scan them, but it was as if someone was speaking and she was inside a soundproof room, hearing nothing. She closed the book and, needing space, she went outside.