Walker: The Rodeo Legend

by Rebecca Winters

  Paula heard his knock and appreciated the fact that he didn’t ring the bell and wake up Clay. She knew she was flushed as she walked to the front door and opened it.

  No cowboy hat shielded his cloudy green eyes today. He’d dressed in a gray T-shirt, jeans and cowboy boots. Paula decided that whatever he wore didn’t matter. It was the man who captured her attention. Every time.

  But no matter how attractive she found him, he wasn’t Brent.

  “Come in, Walker.”

  “Thank you.” He moved past her, causing their arms to brush. She felt the contact as if she’d come up against a live wire. Shutting the door, she watched his tall, lean body move around the living room as he examined the landscapes done in watercolor covering the walls. They represented years of working at her hobby. None were framed yet.

  She’d signed all of them so there could be no doubt who’d painted them. Brent had urged her to display them in a gallery, but when she realized he was never coming home, she lost interest in her artwork and concentrated on her career.

  Walker finally turned to her, studying her even more intently than before. “With talent like yours, you could pretty much do anything. For the sake of my father’s geometric monolith, I’m glad you went for a degree in landscape architecture.”

  A chuckle escaped. “So am I. Designing something for your parents was an exciting challenge.”

  In a deft move he reached for the framed, eight-by-ten photograph of Brent propped on one of the end tables. She’d taken it while he’d been dressed in his army fatigues before being deployed. His gentle smile and dancing blue eyes followed her wherever she walked.

  “America’s finest,” Walker muttered before putting it back on the table. He turned to her with a haunted look marring his striking features. “Mother told me he was killed in Afghanistan.”

  She nodded, dry-eyed. “Time has helped me get over the worst of it.”

  “The hell it has,” he challenged, rubbing his chest absently as if he needed to do something with his hands. His eyes looked savage. “The spouse of a fallen soldier suffers trauma no one who hasn’t been there can begin to understand.”

  He’d bludgeoned through to the truth so fast, she gasped and turned away from him.

  “I’ve said too much.” His voice grated in self-abnegation.

  The next thing she knew he’d bolted for the entry. She couldn’t let him go. Acting on pure instinct, she placed herself between him and the door. “You didn’t offend me, soldier,” she said in a stern voice. His tormented face was only inches from hers. “In fact you’re the only person I’ve met with the guts to call it the way it is. Don’t leave…”

  They stood there like two out-of-control combatants trying to catch their breath while they regrouped. He backed away from her as though he’d been stung.

  “I’m not safe to be around,” he whispered in a deadly tone.

  “Why? Because you’re honest?”

  His jaw hardened like a piece of granite.

  Paula had to think fast before he disappeared and never came back. “Clay’s all I have left of Brent. I’m grateful the warrior in you came out on Saturday. Before I could grab for him, you snatched him away from danger.” She smiled. “You were awesome.”

  Maybe she was getting through to him because the wild look slowly left his eyes. “On the phone you said you wanted to talk to me.”

  He shifted his weight. “Actually, I thought you might want to talk to me. When my mother told me you’d lost your husband in Afghanistan, I was reminded of the wives of two buddies in my unit who were killed in Iraq. They needed to talk to someone who’d been there.

  “I may not have known your husband, but we all faced a common enemy under similar circumstances. If you’re like their wives, then you need someone to scream at, or to cry to. I wanted you to know I’m available.”

  “Thank you. That means more to me than you could know. Eighteen months ago I would have taken you up on your offer. My initial rage has passed, but just knowing you’ve been to war like Brent makes it easier for me to be myself around you.” And more wary of your incredible appeal. “I don’t know about you, but I need to eat.”

  Paula started walking toward the dining room that led to the kitchen. It reminded her of the time when she was ten years old and her father had given her a new pony. She’d used every trick to get it to follow her. In the end she just walked away, and then the miracle happened.

  The next time she looked, he was standing next to the high chair and taking up most of the space in her tiny kitchen. Relieved he’d made it this far, she filled their plates with sandwiches and potato chips and put them on the table. “Please sit down.”

  She waited until he did her bidding. “What’s your preference? Tea? Coffee? Water? Juice? Milk? Chocolate milk?”

  His black brows lifted in surprise. “You actually have chocolate milk?”

  Aha. “Clay likes it. Of course I only give it to him once in a while. Today’s your lucky day, Walker Cody.” She pulled the carton from the fridge and poured them both a glass before sitting down.

  On a whim she lifted hers in his direction. “To a brighter future.” As she took a sip, he flashed her an inscrutable glance before he drank the entire contents of the glass in one go.

  He proved far too fascinating for her peace of mind. She took a bite of her sandwich while he devoured his. It amazed her they’d made it this far and he was still here in her apartment. “Maybe my toast was premature and you’re only home on leave.”

  After a moment he said, “I resigned my commission. Right now I’m living in my grandfather’s cabin on the ranch.”

  So he wouldn’t be going back.… The news shouldn’t have mattered to her, but it did. She wondered why he’d gotten out of the service, but she’d never know unless he volunteered that information.

  She watched his gaze drop to the package. “I’ll always be grateful for what you did for Clay. There’s no way to repay you, but I bought you a little gift anyway. Please…open it.”

  Wordlessly, Walker reached for the box and undid the wrapping. After removing the lid, he drew out the stone.

  “It’s a good-luck charm of Wyoming jade made by the Eastern Shoshone tribe. Your presence brought Clay luck. I’m hoping the charm will do the same for you.”

  When he lifted black-lashed eyes to her, they reflected the deep green hue of her present. “I’ve never worn jewelry. This will be a first. Will you put it on me?”

  Her lungs constricted. When she’d bought it, she’d hoped he might wear it sometimes, but she never imagined doing the honors. Getting up from the table, she walked around and took it from his hand. There was an intimacy in the process of fastening the chain around his neck.

  As she struggled with the catch, her fingers brushed his skin. He was such a beautiful man, her awareness of him was almost overpowering. “There.”

  Paula quickly moved to the counter and put some cookies on a plate, which she brought to the table. She didn’t dare look at him for fear he would be able to tell how affected she was by what had just happened.

  How could she be this strongly attracted to him when Brent had been her whole world? She despised this unexpected weakness in herself. “If I’d had enough time, I would have made a pie or something,” she added lamely.

  He bit into a cookie, then ate half a dozen. “I haven’t had an Oreo in at least six years. Between these and the delicious lunch, you’ve put me in touch with some happy memories. When I left the VA clinic earlier today, I didn’t know that was possible.”

  That’s why he’d been in Powell. She was glad to hear he was getting help. If Brent had made it home, that’s probably where he would be getting therapy, too.

  “Watching you drink your chocolate milk will be a happy memory for me,” she confessed. For the first time since she’d known him, he smiled.

  Was this person heartbreakingly handsome? the receptionist at the ranch office had asked.

  Right now Paula couldn
’t find the words.

  Too soon the moment was gone. “I think I can hear your little boy.” He got to his feet, signaling he was about to leave. She realized she didn’t want him to go, but what he chose to do or not to do was out of her hands. The war had taught him how to survive. Now he was a man in flight from himself.

  After clearing the table, he paused in the doorway. “Thank you for the gift and for putting up with me.” He darted her an oblique glance. Then like a gust of wind that had blown itself out, he disappeared.

  BEFORE WALKER LEFT CODY, he stopped at a local supermarket and picked up a couple of half gallons of chocolate milk. It could never replace coffee, but nothing had tasted so good to him in ages.

  On the way back to the ranch Walker found himself feeling the smoothness of the jade piece several times where it rested against his chest. He didn’t need the dime anymore. The talisman Paula had given him would serve much better. When she’d hung the chain around his neck, he’d felt the warmth from her body seep into him, bringing his senses to life.

  In that moment while her fingers brushed against his skin as she fastened the clasp, he forgot she was still in mourning for her dead husband. All he knew was an overwhelming awareness of her femininity and his susceptibility to her touch. If he hadn’t picked up the sound of her boy making noises, he might have grasped her hands and pulled her arms around his neck in order to feel more of her. How terrifying would that have been for her?

  Throughout his military career Walker had enjoyed relationships with his share of available women, most recently a nurse at the hospital. But knowing they could never mean anything more to him when his roots were in Wyoming, he’d only seen them as distractions.

  Paula Olsen came from another category altogether. She was a widow who was emotionally unavailable since burying her soldier husband. He’d seen the signs in his buddies’ wives. This former wife had a son to raise. Her husband’s son.

  Any man wanting to get involved with her would have to deal with the ghost between them. Walker wasn’t that man, particularly not when he was damaged goods.

  Yet this out-of-control stranger had wanted to turn around and go back to her apartment because there’d been moments with her when he’d escaped from himself.

  Ironic that for a precious few seconds she’d made him feel safe when no place was safe. Explain that if you can, Dr. Bader.

  His shrink had told him to stay in touch with Jesse every day. It put a lot of responsibility on his brother. Too much. He’d set up Jesse to be the go-to person in the family for information. How fair was that?

  Rather than engage him in conversation, Walker would go back to the cabin and e-mail him, letting him know he’d gone to Powell for his appointment. That would appease Jesse’s fears.

  As long as Walker was at it, he’d e-mail Dr. Bader and tell him he’d decided to be at the support group Friday night. If he were honest with himself, it wasn’t a meeting he was looking forward to, but he knew he had to try and cope now that he was home.

  ON FRIDAY EVENING PAULA let herself in the apartment and made a beeline for Clay, who was moving around on his sturdy legs from the chair to the couch. She plucked him from the floor and kissed him.

  Katy got up from the couch. “He’s so cute. I just love him.”

  “So do I. Thanks so much for sitting.”

  “I’m glad to do it.”

  Paula reached in her purse to pay her. “How did things go?”

  “Just fine. He ate part of a banana and some Cheerios.”

  “You’re such a big boy.” She kissed her son again while she walked Katy to the door.

  “Oh—I forgot. Soon after you left, someone rang your doorbell, but I didn’t answer it.”

  “Smart girl.”

  “When I looked out the window, I saw this really hot guy get in a black truck and drive away.”

  Walker.

  To her chagrin, her heart pounded off the charts. “It sounds like it was Mr. Cody from the Cottonwood Ranch where I’m still doing some landscaping,” she said, attempting to sound businesslike. “He knows my number and can call me.”

  The rational part of her decided it was better that he’d come while she’d been at dinner with Matt Spurling. It was better for her peace of mind that the man who’d dominated her thoughts had come by the apartment while she was gone.

  Her client had asked her out for next Friday night, but she’d told him she would be in Garland with her in-laws. On the drive home from the restaurant, he’d warned her he wasn’t giving up.

  “Well, I guess I’ll head out,” Katy commented, bringing Paula back to the present. “See ya.”

  “Be careful driving home.”

  “Don’t worry.”

  After she left, Paula gave Clay his bath and put him to bed with a bottle. She was glad Matt had given her his wish list. It provided her with plenty to do to keep her mind occupied, but by ten after nine she gave up trying to concentrate and decided to go to bed with a good book.

  When Walker had left her apartment the other day, she’d wondered if she would ever see him again. Though part of her thrilled to hear that he’d come by this evening, another part of her knew it was better to stay away from him.

  Paula had been married to the love of her life and had lost him. She had no interest in getting involved with someone else and going through that again. And she had Clay to think about. Whatever reason had brought Walker to her door this evening, she told herself she was glad she hadn’t been here.

  No sooner had she turned down the covers than her cell phone rang. In case it was Walker, she waited until the third ring in order to sound composed. “Hello?”

  “Paula? It’s Walker.” Her breath caught without her volition. “I know it’s late, but since you weren’t home earlier, I thought I’d take a chance you were still up.”

  “I just got back from dinner.” He didn’t need to know it was for business with a client. It would be better if she didn’t explain anything.

  “Then you’ve had a long day. Under the circumstances I won’t keep you. I came by earlier on my way to Powell for a group-therapy session with my psychiatrist. On Wednesday he gave me an assignment, but I didn’t know where to start. Do you know anything about art therapy?”

  Actually she did.

  But she’d already had the talk with herself about the dangers of widowhood and her powerful physical attraction to Walker. Despite the fact that she’d been the one to start all this in order to thank him, she couldn’t allow anything else to go on or she might start to care about him. He had baggage. So did she. She didn’t want to deal with it or him, not when she would always love Brent. Already her guilt for fantasizing about Walker was eating at her.

  Clearing her throat she said, “No one needs pointers for that as I’m sure you found out tonight. I hope the session went well for you, Walker.”

  A caustic laugh came through the phone. “Forgive me for disturbing you. Good night.”

  Her eyes closed tightly. Wrong thing to say to him. He’d just come from therapy. If Walker had needed to share some of his war experiences and had decided to seek her out, then she’d just shut him down.

  As the line went dead, Paula clapped a hand over her mouth. What had she done?

  FEELING AS THOUGH SOMEONE had thrown a double punch to his gut, Walker turned on his laptop and saw that Jesse had e-mailed him back. He leaned over the kitchen table to read it.

  Hey, bro. I’m glad you’ve got a place to go in Powell where you can be with guys who understand you. I probably know you better than anyone, but I realize none of us at home can know the kind of hell you’ve lived through.

  Everyone’s dying to see you. I’ve told them you need your space, but I won’t lie to you. Dad’s having a hard time waiting for you to come to him. I realize that couldn’t be news to you. I’m just preparing you for next Wednesday night’s dinner.

  I’ve caught Mom crying twice when she didn’t know I was watching her. When they decorated the
new house, she took special pains to make sure your room was exactly the way you’d want it. I could have told her she was wasting her time, but I didn’t have the heart.

  I’m not trying to lay a guilt trip on you. One thing I do know about a returning vet, only straight talk counts for anything, so that’s what you’ll always get from me. Love ya, bud.

  Walker groaned before sending him a reply.

  Love you, too, Jesse. You’re the best.

  He moved over to the sink and took his pill with the last of his chocolate milk. Stan, one of the vets from nearby Ralston who’d also had an appointment with Dr. Bader, suggested he try hot, sugar-free Tang as a replacement for coffee. He’d been home six months and it worked for him. Tonight when the session was over, Walker had picked some up at the store and would try it in the morning.

  After brushing his teeth, he got ready for bed and turned off the lantern. It was a beautiful night. The stars would be out soon. He settled back against the pillow with one arm behind his head. His other hand went to the jade piece at his throat. He fingered it for a long time, willing it to bring him a modicum of peace, but not believing it.

  You’re not in Iraq, Cody. You’re back on the mountain among all that’s familiar, so why in the hell do you feel like a child whose nose is pressed against the glass, looking inside at a world you don’t feel a part of? How could that be when this was the only world he wanted?

  His turmoil grew more acute because he knew if he didn’t integrate here, then he belonged nowhere. The cold sweat he dreaded broke out on his body. He threw off the covers, allowing his skin to breathe until he knew nothing more.

  Saturday came. He hiked until he was ready to drop in the hope he’d pass out when he went to bed. It might have worked, but a rainstorm came up during the night. Around four in the morning a series of thunderclaps brought on a flashback. He flew into the living room breathing like a crazed animal before he realized he was in the cabin, alone and safe.