Finally her cheeks soaked up a little normal color from the oxygen in her calming breaths, and Alec put a hand on Joely’s thigh. He leaned forward until he could nearly touch his forehead to hers.
“You okay? You looked a little green for a couple seconds.”
“I can’t believe you kept that a secret. I . . . ” She rubbed her eyes and dragged her palms down her cheeks as if to try and wipe away the emotional exhaustion from the past few moments.
“Nearly everybody who followed my rodeo career knows why it came to an end. A few don’t, though, and neither do most people I meet for the first time. Depending on how long I think I’m going to be with the person, I’ll let them know about it or not.”
“So I’m on the ‘doesn’t need to know’ list.”
“On the contrary. It was just a matter of timing. I didn’t come here tonight to show it to you.”
“Why not? Wouldn’t that have made our conversation a little less—”
“Snarky?”
“Maybe. I’d have had more sympathy. I’d have given you more leeway.”
“Leeway to harass you?” He smiled.
She wasn’t ready to smile yet. She stared at his right thigh. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not looking for sympathy. I’m not looking for anything.”
“And yet, here you are, with a bionic leg and me who feels two inches tall.”
“I don’t like to see people give up on doing what they want to do. You had a problem for every solution tonight, and I didn’t like seeing that in you.”
“Oh, what do you care?” She looked down at her lap. “God, Alec, you lost your leg?”
He winked. “I guess I did. And I do care, or I’d have just kept letting you act like a little wounded bird.”
“Isn’t that what I am?”
“You were. Now you’re just a woman with a challenge. Or two.”
She ignored his micro-lecture this time. “But I couldn’t tell you have a challenge. I mean you just can’t tell! Even dancing.”
“It wasn’t easy to get to the place where anybody said that. And that’s my point. You still have your leg. Quit whining that it doesn’t work right and make it work.”
“I don’t think it’s—”
“There you go again. Don’t say don’t. Don’t say nobody understands. Don’t say you need a nurse or a bus or a driver or anything else. Just say ‘I want to do it myself.’ ”
“Look. I will never live up to what you’re asking me to do. So you have your life together. Score for you. We don’t even know each other—why are we having this mortifying conversation?”
His voice lost a little of its strident punch, and his words softened when he spoke again. What didn’t change was his forthright delivery.
“Because you need a friend who won’t bullshit you. You can’t win this one on your looks and talent, but you can win. I only know that whoever’s been helping you isn’t helping you anymore.”
“You don’t mince words do you?”
He laughed and waggled his brows, letting a little of his swagger back in. “I only pull punches with hopeless cases. Pretty lady, you ain’t one of those. And you certainly aren’t an ass.”
Her face went blank then, and her blue eyes dulled as if she’d shuttered them to ignore the world while she processed it. He stood up, walked to the eating area, grabbed the two bottles of cider, and returned to her. She didn’t look up, but he put one bottle in her hand.
“I’d give you whiskey, but I haven’t got any.”
“I do.”
His brows shot up again. “Seriously?”
“Our dad taught us all to drink whiskey. He might have had six girls, but by gosh they weren’t going to be any sissy girlies drinking little red fruity drinks all the time.” Her voice remained flat, but at least the words were about what she could do rather than what she couldn’t.
“So here I bring you a wimpy drink.”
“No. This is an acceptable alternative to beer. Even though we all like Scotch, we don’t all like beer.”
“And you?”
“In the ‘like’ group.”
“I brew my own. My dog likes it.”
“You have a dog?”
“Do you like dogs?”
“Kids born on ranches are required by law to like dogs. And horses.”
“Good. Then, yes, I have an enormous dog who likes beer. And pretzels. And vegetables. It evens out.”
The first glimmer of light returned to her eyes. It wasn’t a spark, but the shutters were cracking open.
“What’s his name?”
“Her. Rowan. An Irish wolfhound mixed with, I don’t know, elephant I think.”
“Sounds, uh, interesting.”
“She’s adorable.”
Joely eyed him skeptically. “Really? You said ‘adorable’?”
“Even one-legged soldiers can be sappy about some things.”
She still wasn’t ready for the joking, which she proved by letting her features close down again.
“How much of your leg?” The question came out in a near whisper.
“Did I lose?”
She nodded and swallowed, her hands folded in her lap, her gaze not quite steady on him.
“From seven inches below my knee.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s been three and a half years. I’m used to it.”
“So tell me. What am I supposed to do with this knowledge—that you’re the better man? Am I supposed to magically change my attitude and be a new person? Suddenly everything is amazing and golly gosh I can do this after all?”
One of her hands clutched the neck of her cider bottle, the other the plastic arm of her wheelchair. Both sets of knuckles shone white through the skin as if she held onto what was familiar for dear life.
“First thing is down that drink. Give yourself a nice little relaxing buzz this once, and then swear to me you’ll never drown your sorrows in alcohol again. That’s another thing I have the moral authority to lecture on—it doesn’t work.”
She took a swig and he followed suit, letting the tart-sweet fizz of the fermented apples slip easily down his throat.
“What if I want you to leave so I can process all this?”
“Then I’m out of here. No questions. No hard feelings.” He started to stand.
“I didn’t say that’s what I wanted for sure.”
He relaxed back into the cushions. “Okay. Then what you do next is nothing. Or you ask me questions. Or you make a list of the ten things you have to do first to get ready to move. And you talk to Gabe. Helping people through this kind of thing is what he does.”
Her new brother-in-law was a patient advocate at the hospital here on the VA complex. In fact, being her advocate was what had led him to Mia. He definitely knew his way around the system.
“He’ll know soon enough,” she said. “He’s a gem, and I wouldn’t have gotten through this without him, but he’s so busy right now. He and Mia are building their house, and while Harper and Cole are gone, they’re running the ranch, too. Plus he has the veterans and the wild horses.”
Gabe ran a special program for veterans suffering from PTSD and traumatic brain injuries. He and Mia had discovered that working with wild mustangs held almost magical healing powers with the vets, but administrating the program took up hours of time.
“You probably don’t know my connection to Gabe yet, either,” Alec said.
“Just that you were army buddies.”
“He was my CO during my first tour in Iraq. He was already home here when I went back to the Middle East for the second time as a civilian contractor in 2012, but he searched me out when I came back wounded. They transferred me here from Minneapolis, and he was a godsend. I was where you are now only twice as deep into my hole. He set me and one other guy up in housing and got us looking for jobs. He got the idea for the intensive small group program he runs from those first six months with us.”
“You in
spired him.”
“Nah, he inspired us. And created success out of nothing with guys like me. That’s all I want to pass on—a little of what I learned. And the first lesson is—ask for help but don’t expect it—ask for exactly what you need, not a genie to generally fix everything.”
“After knowing me for the equivalent of hours you’ve decided that? You must think I’m a stunningly horrible person.”
“I think you’re stunning, period. And confused. And scared. You don’t even know what to ask for.”
She didn’t reply. For a long time neither of them said another word. He had no way of knowing what was going through her head, but he had time to study her. He could see the former beauty queen in her thin frame. Based on the pictures he’d seen, she’d lost weight after her accident and hadn’t recovered yet. Not that he judged anyone on body score—he’d evolved that far since his youth. Still, he hadn’t lied to her when he’d told her she was stunning. Slight and bordering on waiflike though she was, Joely still had the curves to spark a man’s libido and an underlying strength that she hid but made her intriguing as a mystery.
It had been a long time since he’d allowed a woman to capture his interest. He had no appetite anymore for his “Mayhem” days or the parade of women who’d loved cowboys and stroked his ego. He also had no interest in the closeness of a one-woman relationship. You had to put your heart on the line in a relationship, and you had to protect it. He was done being in the position of protecting someone he loved. When he loved someone, they always ended up lost to him. His interest in Joely stemmed from nothing more than their similar injuries and his desire to help her get her life back the way Gabe and so many others had helped him. The quivers of pleasure that seemed to grow stronger each time he looked at her were just a bonus. He could appreciate satiny, dark blonde hair, long-lashed blue eyes, and a laugh that rang like an angel’s as much as any man.
“You’re right.” Her voice barely crossed the short distance between them. “I don’t know what to ask for. I need to tell my family what’s going on, but they’ll just fuss and hover, and I hate that.”
“That’s a good start, not wanting your family to fuss. So—decide exactly what you do want. Right now you say you don’t want to put anyone out and you don’t want hovering, but you’re waiting for them to come to you anyway and suggest solutions. Ask them for the things you want and nothing else.”
“I don’t know what I want.”
“Sure you do. You want to be able to do what you did before. So, make a list.”
Another very long silence descended, and Alec said nothing to make her hurry. He’d lectured her enough for one night, and if he ever wanted to see her again he would be leaving soon.
“I think I might want to be alone.”
Even though her words mirrored his thoughts, they still stung coming from her first. This was different from him having the foresight and courtesy to leave on his own. He nodded and worked to keep his features easy and pleasant.
“I can understand.”
“I’m sorry. It’s rude. I just . . . I don’t know.”
His disappointment vanished. Misery and confusion filled her face, and he’d put it there. He remembered well the feeling of despair when he’d first confronted the need to quit feeling sorry for himself and make his life work again. He stood, took the bottle of cider from her hand, and set it on a little end table beside the couch. As gently as if he were scooping up two baby birds, he took her hands. They disappeared into his grasp, and he rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles, amazed at the soft skin and dismayed by their limp fragility. She’d been so sure and alive at the wedding. For all too short a time she’d been strong and free. He prayed she’d find the strength again soon.
“You have so much to think about. Don’t worry. I can promise you things will work out.”
“You would know.”
“Joely.” He made her look at him. Her eyes revealed only exhaustion. “I didn’t reveal my leg to lord it over you or make a statement about moral authority. You have to do things because you want to, not because I said there’s only one way to do them.”
“Okay.”
He squeezed her hands and set them back in her lap. “I don’t suppose I cleared up the bad blood. But I did learn that I admire you. You’re strong.”
For the first time in long minutes her eyes flashed to life.
“You know what I hate more than anything? Platitudes and patronizing. So stop it.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “You’re right. I am sounding like a kindergarten teacher. Fine. Buck up, Joely Crockett. Get out of your wheelchair seat and get a life.”
He grinned at her wide eyes. She didn’t look happy, but she didn’t look like a lost kitten either.
“I hate you a little bit,” she said.
“Good. Passion.”
A small sound, a little like a snort, made its way from her throat. Alec started toward the door. “Want me to put the chicken away?”
“No.”
“Okay.” He turned. “One thing before I go. Tell me the top three things on that list you’re going to make.”
“What?”
“What do you want to do next?”
“Want or have to?”
“Sometimes they’re the same.”
“Get you out the door.” She hid the tiniest of smiles. “Sign the papers.”
“Excellent.”
“And find the impossible new place to live.”
“Easy one.” He continued to the door. “Come and live with me.”
“Aren’t you hilarious?” Her cheeks flushed with full color again, and the blue in her eyes had blossomed back into a deep sapphire. She was watching his gait as he moved away. Good. She wasn’t shying from the idea of his missing leg—she was curious. “Not in this galaxy or the next, Cowboy.”
He wiggled his brows. “Okay. See you in the one beyond that.”
ALEC PULLED INTO the garage of the L-shaped, ranch-style house he’d closed on less than a month before. Knowing he owned the place still awed him, although some days he wondered what had possessed him to leap so quickly into a more or less permanent spot, in a town that would only remind him every day of what he didn’t want to do anymore.
The only answer was Gabe Harrison. Now that they were no longer CO and soldier, or mentor and mentee, Gabe was a good friend. When he’d turned Alec on to a perfect, decent-paying but mindless job that could lead to other opportunities but held no pressure, Alec had been hard pressed to say no. Pressure was no longer his thing. And then he’d seen this place and he’d been sold. No apartment building would have allowed his freakishly large dog, and the house had been finished and upgraded to perfection before the owners had defaulted on their mortgage. So, it had been affordable and, most important of all, the half-acre yard was fenced. Rowan the moose-dog was thrilled.
The instant he touched the garage-to-house doorknob, Rowan’s thumping-bass woof resounded and her big nails clacked along the hardwood floor as she trotted to meet him. He braced himself and wondered randomly if Joely’s required-by-genetics love of dogs would extend to a lummox like the one he lived with. She was friendly, loyal, and wouldn’t hurt a rabbit. She was also six five when she stood on her back legs. Something the dog did too often.
A lot of people who claimed to be dog lovers cowered when they met shaggy, massive Rowan.
He pushed open the door and spread his arms, priming himself as he did every day to catch the hair-covered cannon ball that launched itself at his chest. Her front paws landed on his shoulders, and her cool, wet nose nudged his neck, cheek, ear, and eyes, looking for hello kisses. Alec scratched the sides of her head and nuzzled her, finally pushing her to the ground once she’d had a plenty good greeting.
“Hullo, Dum-ro, I was just talking about you.”
Rowan backed away once she’d assured herself he was home to stay. She trotted toward his back deck door and waited.
“The girl I was with said you s
ounded ‘interesting.’ I don’t think she imagines you as very cute, so she’s going to have to meet you and get straightened out. What do you say?”
The visit with Joely hadn’t gone as he’d planned. He didn’t regret a single thing he’d said to her, and he was relieved to have the prosthetic reveal out of the way. He hadn’t planned on the night being such a thorough onslaught, though. Getting her to see him again was going to take some fancy talking. Fortunately he was pretty good at bullshit.
There was one problem. He wasn’t bullshitting when it came to Joely. From the start he hadn’t been able to think of her with the same casual insouciance he did most women. There’d been no meaningless flirting on his part—at least, not after the first five minutes of talking to her. And she definitely hadn’t flirted with him, so he hadn’t had to feign interest the way he’d had to do with, say, that woman Heidi.
He let Rowan out the back door and stepped out after her.
No. From those first moments, when he’d found Joely alone in her family’s dining room, his interest had been genuine. It wasn’t like him. He hadn’t let himself analyze why.
“C’mon, Rowan. C’mon, girl. Bring it here!”
The giant dog was snuffling around her favorite ball and knew full well what “bring it here” meant. For the moment, however, she ignored him. Alec rubbed his thigh above the prosthetic and imagined removing the socket and sleeve sooner rather than later. He could almost always go an entire day and be fine, but once in a while he had a day where it took nothing to get the leg and its stump aching and burning with pain. It had taken all his grit to walk normally out of Joely’s little apartment.
Pride. Sometimes it was stupid, but most of the time it served him well.
Joely Crockett needed a little more pride and a little less self-pity.
It was funny, though. Her self-pity didn’t extend to purposefully making other people wait on her. She seemed able to embrace her solitude until she could hitch a ride on other peoples’ plans. He’d decided she was no diva. She’d simply lost who she’d been before the accident.
The Bride Wore Starlight Page 9
