Bet Your Boots

by Starla Kaye

  “What do you mean?” Mandie’s stomach fluttered with nerves.

  “That I think you two—“

  “No! There’s nothing happening between us.” Such a lie!Mandie crumbled the cookie in her hand.

  “You trying to convince me…or you?” Bessie grinned, the wrinkles seeming to double on her face. Then she eased to her feet. “You’ve got my blessings.”

  “Blessings for what?” Mandie wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.

  Bessie looked knowingly down at her. “For laying claim to my heart-bruised nephew.”

  “I’m not….” She didn’t finish the sentence, just watched Bessie head for the door.

  “I’ll be letting you get back to work now.” Bessie stopped at the open door, nodded at the papers. “I’m pretty sure I don’t want to see that finished sketch of Cole. Some things an aunt doesn’t need to see.” She chuckled and left.

  Blessings? Now that she was here. Laying claim to Cole. Oh, jeez, things were getting complicated awfully fast.

  Chapter Four

  Cole’s thoughts were anywhere but on the spirited gelding he was attempting to saddle break. He’d done this kind of thing a thousand times, so even though the ride was jarring, he couldn’t keep his mind on the job. As the horse twisted and contorted his way around the arena, Cole thought about how relieved he’d been successfully avoiding running into Mandie for three days. He hoped like hell he could keep on avoiding her clear up to the time her first group of clients left. His goal was to survive her presence—which he was all too aware of—and then tell her to leave. Like they’d agreed to, more or less. Why did that idea suddenly bother him?

  Annoyed, he shifted his gaze briefly to the guest lodge a couple hundred yards from the far end of the arena. The large log building still seemed out of place on the ranch where he’d grown up. He gritted his teeth and hung on tight as the gelding decided to try another fancy maneuver to dislodge him. When he survived yet one more body-jolting spell, his thoughts returned to what he’d spent quite a while researching on the Internet last night: dude ranches. What had surprised him was how interested he’d become. Some of the places were….

  The gelding shot up in the air again, nearly forming a bow as he tucked his head low and arched his back. Cole’s arms were nearly pulled out of their sockets as he fought to keep hold of the reins. The muscles in his back strained as he bent back as far as he could to maintain his seat. Damn, this was one ornery horse!

  “You okay?” Rusty called out from where he sat perched on the fence railing. “Ready to give up on him for the day?”

  They’d been working with this horse for almost two hours, both of them getting their share of body bruising. Cole didn’t give in easily. He countered, “I think he’s starting to tire out.”

  Rusty snorted his disagreement.

  After one more sharp kick-back of his legs, the gelding settled into a trot, panting from his efforts. Cole took the opportunity to pull in deep breaths and settle down as well. As he did so, he spotted Mandie leading a group of six people toward the riding arena. To his disgust, his body reacted to her approach. His heart picked up speed again and his cock came to attention. His grip tightened on the reins.

  Immediately the horse beneath him reacted. The gelding began dancing around again, jerking his head up and down, side-to-side. Shit.

  Cole tried to calm the horse, tried to make him not feel threatened by the rider on his back. On another lap around the arena, Mandie climbed up on the metal bars of the fence. He had a couple of seconds to read the front of her T-shirt proclaiming Lessons in Love. The six people climbing up next to her also wore T-shirts, these proclaimed In Training.

  He blinked and blinked again. The thoughts that sped through his mind! Definitely x-rated.

  Mandie did one of those five finger waves at him, then at Rusty as he climbed off the fence and looked toward Cole. “Good morning, Cole,” she sing-songed happily.

  Before he could respond, the gelding he’d named Beelzebub took exception to having an audience. He sunfished to the best of his agility and jumped a good four feet in the air. This time Cole didn’t have a prayer of hanging on. He flew head first through the air at the same time Mandie and the other women screamed in horror. All he had time to do was bite out, “Oh shit!”

  * * * * *

  Every damn bone in Cole’s body throbbed in pain. He’d had this same gawd-awful feeling more times than he wanted to think about while working the rodeo circuit. His head hurt so bad even slitting his eyes open had him sucking in a breath, which in turn had him cursing a blue streak. His ribs felt like someone had run over him once, and then again.

  “’Pears he’s back with us,” Rusty said from somewhere nearby.

  Cole closed his eyes again and listened to the sounds around him, all of it seemed magnified. People talking outside whatever room he was in sounded as if they were shouting. Boots walking on a tiled floor, Rusty coming closer. It sounded as if he were stomping. Someone else’s steps echoed loudly as well. Then quicker footsteps headed in his direction, lighter ones, determined ones, more like consistent sharp taps on the tile.

  “You nearly scared me to death!” Mandie accused, stopping next to him. “I thought for sure you had broken your neck.”

  He heard the tears in her angry voice and felt bad for causing her distress, until he recalled that he was the one in serious pain here. He looked up at her, squinting at the fluorescent lights above him. “Where the hell am I?”

  Before she could answer, his nose twitched. Hospital smells. That jump-started his heart big time. He’d been in far too many hospitals this last year. He jack-knifed up on the examination table, only to have excruciating pain stab at his skull and at his ribs. Everything went fuzzy again. He plopped back down. “God Almighty!” he gasped. “Just shoot me now.”

  As if he’d be foolish enough to try jerking up like that again, Mandie’s cool hands landed on his shoulders to hold him down. “If you don’t lie still and let the doctor finish examining you, I just might.”

  “What?” he asked in confusion, hearing Rusty snickering. Then he realized she was touching bare skin and he felt her sizzling touch all the way to his toes. He glanced down and found that his chambray shirt had been unsnapped and lie draped at his sides.

  “Shoot you, idiot man.” She huffed.

  Her gaze seemed to be snagged on his bare chest. He noted the appreciation in her eyes. He glowered at her, then at the young doctor trying to move her aside and battling a grin of amusement. “I don’t want to be here. I’m fine.” He refused to admit he was fighting back a wave of nausea and his ears were ringing.

  “You slammed full-out into the metal fence and landed on your big head,” Mandie countered, barely moving away. “Of course you’re fine!”

  “I am, dammit!” Okay, he hurt like hell, but he knew it wasn’t anything serious. He’d done serious before and this wasn’t it.

  The blond doctor who barely looked old enough to be out of high school nudged next to Mandie. He said calmly, “How about you humor me for a few minutes? Let me actually ask a couple of questions and do a quick examination.”

  “How about I save us both time? Concussion, minor. I’m not unfamiliar with it.” Cole gingerly put an arm over his abdomen. “Sprained ribs. Hurt like hell, but not broken. Pretty much every other inch of my body hurts, too. But I’ll live.”

  The doctor gave him a tolerant look. “Light-headed? Dizzy? You’re squinting against the light, so a sensitivity there. Ears ringing? Nauseous?”

  Cole noticed how Mandie listened intently to each question. Lines furrowed her forehead. She worried her lower lip. She looked concerned about him. It made him uncomfortable. Neither of his wives had particularly worried when he got hurt, especially not Danielle. “She shouldn’t be in here.”

  “Of course I should be here. This was my fault.” She appeared rooted to the floor next to him.

  Rusty caught his attention. “The lady has been at your si
de from the second you hit the arena dirt. I’d have to bodily pick her up and remove her from the room.” He shook his head in amusement. “I figure she’d only come barreling back in here. So why bother.”

  The doctor cleared his throat to draw their focus once more. “My questions? I’d really like a few answers to them.”

  Annoyed at the doctor, at Mandie, at life in general at the moment, Cole barked, “Yes, to pretty much all of them. Only dizzy when I sit up, though.”

  He shifted his attention solely to Rusty. “So I was out until just now?” That concerned him a bit.

  Rusty shrugged. “Not completely. You passed out in the arena. Came to when I started to call for an ambulance, managed to read me the riot act about that. Ordered me just to drive you here to the community hospital.”

  Mandie glared down at him. “Stupid man. Stupid, stupid, stupid.” She glanced at Rusty. “You, too, for listening to him.”

  Rusty went on as if she hadn’t interrupted. “We managed to get you into my truck, although you were more than a bit fuzzy-brained. Then you passed out again. In and out all the way here. Mostly out.”

  “That’s not good, is it, Dr. Jacobs?” Mandie asked, the worry lines on her face deepening.

  “We could do an MRI, but from his responses and his reactions now, I think that isn’t necessary. We can treat this as a minor concussion.” The doctor studied Cole’s expression a second then faced Mandie. “If you observe any further problems, let me know immediately. Otherwise I believe he’ll respond just fine with plenty of rest for the next few days and some limited pain killer for the bruised ribs.”

  “Hey!” Cole protested. “I’m right here in the room. She has nothing to do with any of this. And I don’t have time for laying around in bed, Doc. I’m a rancher. I—“

  “A rancher who has a perfectly capable foreman and a bunch of equally capable ranch hands.” Mandie planted her hands on her hips, which thrust her breasts out and made the Lessons in Love statement more prominent again.

  Every man in the room—including Cole—couldn’t keep from zeroing in on the shirt and its bold proclamation. Pain or no pain, his mind played with all sorts of scenarios. And that made him even more frustrated. “I hate that damn shirt.”

  She blinked, glanced downward, and then smiled. “No you don’t.”

  Turning to the doctor, she asked, “I’m vaguely familiar with treating a minor concussion. He needs to have someone check on him every few hours while he’s resting, right? Make sure he doesn’t do any kind of jarring physical activity until you clear him, correct?”

  “Right, on all of that. You’ll keep an eye on him, I take it?”

  “No, she won’t,” Cole stated with authority. “I can take care of myself. But if necessary for the rest of today, my Aunt Bessie can check on me.”

  The doctor was writing out a prescription on a small pad when Mandie said, “Anything you can prescribe for extreme pigheadedness?”

  Again, Rusty chuckled. “Good one. I like you.”

  Cole growled under his breath and managed to suck it up enough to get to a sitting position on the side of the exam table. He sat still for a second and let the room stop spinning. He hated feeling weak in front of anyone, especially women. Especially Mandie.

  She rolled her eyes and stepped in front of him to start pulling his shirt together.

  He batted her hands away. “I can dress myself.”

  Rusty looked at him as if he were an idiot. Maybe he was. He liked touching her, liked her touching him. Except he didn’t want it to happen again.Dangerous territory, that.

  Dr. Jacobs tore off the prescription and thrust the paper at Rusty. “Get it filled here in the hospital. He’s going to need some of it pretty soon. Those ribs are going to give him hell for a month or so.”

  Rusty nodded and started out of the room. “I’ll go get it filled right now. Mandie, can you see Cole gets in a wheelchair so we can get him out of here?”

  Cole shifted off the table, held onto it for a few seconds, knowing he’d probably paled at the effort. His head felt as if it were pulsing. Breathing was not fun at all. “No wheelchair. I can walk out of here just fine.”

  Mandie didn’t say a word, but “you’re an idiot” flashed in her expressive eyes. She moved next to him. “Okay, tough guy, lean on me if you need to.”

  “I don’t…” Two steps later he wrapped his right arm around her shoulders. “This sucks,” he grumbled and let her help him out of the room.

  By the time she’d helped him to Rusty’s double-cab truck parked close to the emergency area, sweat beaded his brow, trickled between his shoulder blades. He panted, grimaced, and bit down the pain of breathing. With the last bit of energy he had, he hefted himself into the passenger seat and sat back, closing his eyes. He was asleep before either Mandie or Rusty climbed into the truck as well.

  * * * * *

  Mandie knew Cole hadn’t wanted her around and that his aunt was more than capable of taking care of him. Still, she’d worried about him the rest of the day. Her sessions with the first group of clients had gone well and the three couples had made progress. They were excited about what they had learned, about renewing their relationships, and they liked everything about being at the ranch. All of that was great, but she needed to see Cole. Rusty had checked on him numerous times and reported to her that Cole was doing fine. Well, actually Rusty had reported he was driving his aunt crazy. Big surprise.

  Her couples had just left the dining room in the guest lodge and were retiring for the night. She should do so, too. Instead she headed toward Cole’s big house. The downstairs had lights on as did the room she assumed was Cole’s bedroom. Was Bessie planning to stay the night there? At eighty she needed her rest, in her own bed. But he shouldn’t be left alone all night. Should she… No, he wouldn’t welcome her presence.

  The front door opened before she’d even started up the porch steps. Bessie’s white hair looked mussed, like she’d run her hand through it in worry many times. She probably had. Maybe not in worry, maybe more in frustration. Her nephew probably wasn’t the best of patients.

  “Thank God you’re here!” Bessie’s relief was obvious. “Can you stay with him tonight? At least sleep in one of the spare bedrooms and check on him every few hours? I can’t take any more for now.”

  Mandie smiled, although nerves fluttered in her stomach. She wanted to be here. Yet she didn’t. But she’d do anything necessary. Guilt still weighed on her because she knew she had distracted him in the arena. He’d gotten thrown, battered and bruised because of her.

  “I take it he didn’t earn any gold stars for being a good patient today.” She stopped next to Bessie and gave her a sympathetic hug.

  “He’s not going to be happy to have you here,” Bessie admitted, although she smiled and moved toward the steps. “Tough cookies, I say. The boy doesn’t always need to get his way.”

  Mandie stood in the doorway for a minute, debating whether she really could do this. They’d made love—no they’d had hard and fast sex—five nights ago. He’d claimed it was the stupidest thing he’d done in a long while. She’d told him to “shut up and just take me.” She remembered every word of their strange conversation, remembered exactly how he’d felt driving inside her. Spectacular was what she’d call the experience. He’d appeared to enjoy it as well. But then he’d avoided her after that…until she’d invaded his working world and gotten him hurt.

  The grandfather clock in the front room chimed nine o’clock. She yawned and closed the door behind her. She’d be staying here tonight; she didn’t have a choice. Resigned, she went about turning off all the lights in the downstairs rooms and then headed slowly up the stairs.

  His suite was at the end of the hallway and she heard him snoring. She smiled at that. Snoring meant he was sleeping, which was a good thing. When had Bessie last checked on him? She should have remembered to ask. She’d go check on him and establish her own timeline from now.

  She’d taken ca
re to walk quietly, yet the instant she stepped into the doorway, he stopped snoring. Bessie had left one of the bedside lamps on and in the dim light she saw him blinking his eyes open. He scowled.

  “What the hell are you doing here? Where’s Bessie?” He shifted slightly in bed and she noted his bare upper chest beneath the sheet. She also saw the lines of pain around his mouth.

  “At least I didn’t have to wake you.” She moved into the big room, admired the large mahogany furniture, particularly the massive four-poster bed. “Very nice. Bessie pick this out for you?”

  “No. I did.” He pulled the sheet up to his neck. “Where is she?”

  She spotted the bottle of pain pills on the triple dresser. “You wore her down with your sweet personality. She went home and, if you’re lucky, she may return tomorrow.” She held up the bottle. “Is it time for another one of these?”

  “Haven’t taken any yet. Don’t plan to.”

  Mandie sighed. “Macho man can get by without them, huh? Up to you.” She shrugged. “But they actually might help…at least to improve your temperament.”

  “You don’t need to be here experiencing my sweet personality. I’m fine. Go away.” He squeezed his eyes shut then grumbled a curse. “Damn. I need to….” He slammed his mouth shut and glared at her.

  “Ah, the bathroom.” She set the bottle down and leaned against the dresser. “Do you need my help?”

  If possible—which she really hadn’t thought possible—his scowl darkened. “Just leave the room. Leaving the house would be best.”

  She shook her head. “Not happening, cowboy.”

  “Dammit, Mandie, I’m buck naked under this sheet.”

  “Can I say yummm? Or would that be inappropriate?” She well remembered the sight of Cole’s magnificent naked body. It would be a treat to see it again, even if he was opposed to the idea.