by Mary Leo
Back then she hardly knew he was even around. She’d been too high on pot and alcohol so caught up in her own miseries, of which there were many, that she rarely had time for her little brother.
“Sounds complicated.”
“He’s a complicated young man.”
“More than I ever knew. So, have we convinced you to spend some time with us? My mom fixed up a bedroom just for you and Jayden.”
Truth be told, RuthieAnn would like nothing more.
“Thanks, but no.”
“You can’t possibly be thinking of settling in at your dad’s place.”
“Not at all. I booked a room at Gold Rush Inn in town.”
“That’s a long way from your dad’s. Staying here would be so much easier on you and on Jayden. Besides, if you stay, I can start on those riding lessons in the morning.”
Jayden’s eyes lit up, as he tugged on her shirt. “Stay, Mama. Stay.”
RuthieAnn straightened up, and gazed right into Chase’s incredible eyes. For a moment, she flashed on the memory of those same eyes pleading with her for help right after the accident. It strengthened her resolve. “Thanks, but that’s not an option. I’ve already paid for the room, and moved our things in. But if you’re serious about the lessons, we can be here bright and early in the morning. That’s not a problem. Would Jayden be riding Midnight Shadow?”
“Not right off. Midnight Shadow might be a little intimidating for Jayden. But we have a few ponies that would be perfect.”
Chase focused on her son. “Would you like to meet our ponies, Jayden?”
He enthusiastically nodded. “Ponies. Yes.”
RuthieAnn didn’t know if Jayden understood what a pony was exactly, but at this point, anything that Chase offered was something that Jayden wanted. She’d never seen him take to a stranger so quickly. Even when he first met a physical therapist or a new teacher, he would be cautious for weeks until he felt comfortable. But with Chase, that comfort level had been instant.
Chase took Jayden’s hand and guided him off the ladder, then brought him further back into the barn to a couple of box stalls with two ponies, one black and one brown, both with beautiful long manes. RuthieAnn had followed close behind.
The ponies were adorable, and happy to see Chase. It appeared as though their stalls had been designed just for them, with a much lower door for them to peer over, and Jayden could reach right up to pet them.
“The black one is Elvis, and the little brown mare is Priscilla. I trained them both myself, so they’re perfect for young riders who are just learning.”
Jayden leaned into Priscilla as she nuzzled against him. He looked so happy that RuthieAnn’s heart melted. She hadn’t seen her son take to anything like he was taking to these horses. It was like his little mind was finally opening up to the world around him. She couldn’t pull him away now.
She stood back while Chase knelt on one knee and told Jayden all about Elvis and Priscilla, two ponies she knew were about to change her son’s life . . . and hers.
BY THE TIME RuthieAnn decided she needed to drive back to town, the rain was coming down so hard and fast it felt as if the sky had opened up a great big faucet. There was no way Chase was going to let RuthieAnn drive the ten miles back to Gold Rush Inn on a night like this. Besides, there were a lot of low-lying stretches of the road that would flood. If a driver wasn’t familiar with the location of those flooded spots, he or she could get trapped in the wash. Chase tried his best to explain all of this to Ruthie, but apparently, she wasn’t in the mood to listen. He was learning she could be as stubborn as a filly refusing to take a rider.
“Thanks for your concern, but I’ll be fine,” she told him once again, and once again he wasn’t about to let her win this argument. There was no negotiating safety.
They stood in the kitchen together. Everyone else in his family had since disappeared, and Jayden played with the dogs in the living room. Chase’s mom had packed up some leftovers for RuthieAnn to take back to the inn, if that was her intention, but Chase was reluctant to give them to her. He simply did not want to say goodnight, nor did he trust that road, and with good reason. His accident had taken place on that road exactly six-point-seven miles from the Cooper Ranch during an early morning rainstorm, a rainstorm half as strong as this one.
“Believe me, anything can happen on that road, especially when it rains. Please reconsider and stay here. It’s only for one night. If you’re worried about paying for an empty room, I’ll pay for it.”
She held out her hand for the bag of leftovers. “Thanks, but even if I did decide to stay, I can afford to pay for my own room. And in case you were worried, I’ve been driving since I was seventeen. I think I’ve driven in a storm or two.”
“Are you always this stubborn or do I bring it out in you?”
She cocked her head looking even more adorable, and furrowed her forehead, apparently in an attempt to be taken seriously. All it did was make Chase more determined to convince her to stay.
“It’s not stubbornness. It’s the assumption you have that I’m a weak girl who can’t maneuver a little rain.”
“So this has turned into a feminist thing?”
“See, right there you’re being demeaning to women in general.”
Chase sighed in frustration. He didn’t understand why she was being so defensive. He decided to try to explain himself. Perhaps he wasn’t taking the right approach.
“I’m not trying to demean anyone. I’m simply trying to offer a viable alternative to a stressful drive back to an inn when we have a perfectly comfortable room right here for you and Jayden. You’re equating my road warning into something grounded in gender when it’s not that at all. I wouldn’t drive in this rain tonight, and I know that road backwards and forwards. The thing is, I have no doubt you can do anything you put your mind to. Jayden’s lack of fear for new things is testament to that. This has to do with safety—your safety and that of your son’s. I know that road, and you don’t.”
He could see that she wasn’t going to back down. “I lived here, remember?”
“And while you lived here, how much driving did you do?”
She hesitated, and darted her eyes away from his. Chase knew enough from playing countless poker games to realize she’d just given him a tell. “Enough.”
“Enough for what? Did you even drive while you lived here?”
More hesitation, and this time she folded her arms across her chest. Oh yeah, she was hiding something.
“Of course I drove when I lived here, but I don’t want to argue about this anymore. It’s been a lovely evening. Please thank your mom for her warm generosity.”
Then she proceeded to walk out of the kitchen. Chase wasn’t about to give up. This was too important.
“Here’s the thing,” he said while he tracked RuthieAnn to the living room where they’d left Jayden only a few minutes ago. “I already had an accident on that damn road that nearly killed me. Call me crazy, but I’m a bit overly cautious when it comes to that road, and besides”—he nodded towards the living room—“Jayden looks as if he’s settled in for the night.”
RuthieAnn turned back around and spotted her son nestled in between both dogs, his head resting on Duke’s belly, while his back rested against Clint’s back. Looking at how the family dogs seemed to be protecting Jayden, it was as if he’d grown up with them.
Suddenly the wind went out of RuthieAnn’s feminist sails. Her shoulders slumped and he could see the resignation take over her entire body.
“Fine. You win, especially now that my Jayden looks so comfy. I don’t have the heart to wake him up.”
“You mean we could have avoided all of this if we’d just walked into the living room sooner?”
She smirked. “I think so, yes.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Then let’s get that boy of yours upstairs to bed.” He went to pick up Jayden, slipping his arms around him only to realize he had absolutely no strength in his right ar
m. Not only was Chase humiliated, but he could no longer deny how much his arm had deteriorated just in the last few weeks. He’d been babying it, thinking it would be okay. Hoping.
But now he knew the truth.
“I can get him,” RuthieAnn said.
Chase sat on the floor, and Clint got up and licked Chase’s hand as if he knew something was wrong.
“I’m sorry,” Chase muttered, completely horrified by what had just transpired.
“Is it your rotator cuff?”
“I don’t know. This is new. I was fine up until a few weeks ago.”
“Let me take a look at it. I’m doing my residency in physical therapy. Maybe I can help.”
Then she swooped up her sleepy son, resting his head on her shoulder. He cuddled in tighter. “Where are we going?” she whispered to Chase.
“Up the stairs. It’s the first door on your right.”
“Once I get him down, I’ll take a look at your arm and shoulder.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine.” He knew his voice had been gruff. He hadn’t meant it to be, but he didn’t need the one woman he was interested in to know he was anything less than a whole man. He didn’t care about showing his softer side, this was all about his pride, which he’d worked hard to restore in the last few years, and now it seemed he was about to get it trampled once again.
“Are we going to have another argument?” she asked, obviously trying to make light of the situation. If she was truly a physical therapist, he suspected she’d run across an entire subset of stubborn men who didn’t want to admit to any physical weakness.
“Is that what that was?”
“I think so, yes.”
The smile on her exquisite lips warmed his heart. He couldn’t help the grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Wow, our first argument and we hardly know each other.”
“You said our first . . . does that mean you think we’re going to have more?” she teased.
“I think we’ve already started on our second.” He liked mixing it up with her, liked the way she held her own, even when he knew she was wrong.
“We move fast.”
“You’re already spending the night in my house. That says a lot.”
“Isn’t this your mom’s house now?” she asked, as Jayden rubbed his nose for a moment.
“Technically, yes,” he whispered as he escorted her to the stairway.
“Well, until I’m sleeping at your place, you can’t actually say I’m spending the night in your house.”
He stopped walking and turned to her. “Wait, was that a proposition?”
“If you’ll allow me to look at your arm, then yes.”
“This is quite a conundrum,” he said, wondering just what RuthieAnn Dolan was all about. He didn’t think he’d ever met a woman quite like her before. Right from the first moment, she’d captured his imagination like no one else.
“I wasn’t offering anything other than a sleepover . . . with my son, and maybe the dogs for protection.”
“Protection against what?”
“You, of course.”
He quietly chuckled. “That changes things.”
“Take it or leave it, but I’m too tired to argue anymore.”
And she proceeded past him, heading for the stairs on her own.
“I’ll take it,” he said, catching up to her.
“Somehow I knew you would,” she teased. “I’ll be down in about ten minutes.”
“I’ll be here waiting in the living room.”
AS SOON AS RuthieAnn walked into the inviting room, she headed straight for the queen-sized bed in the middle of the far wall. A soft light shone from the small lamp on the nightstand next to the bed. The large room was decorated with a western flair, down to the loomed Hopi rug on the floor. Members of the Hopi tribe lived all around this part of Arizona and RuthieAnn could spot their artwork anywhere she saw it. Her best friend Pearl was part Hopi on her mother’s side. Which was why they’d always been such good friends. Pearl had been kind-of an outcast, just like RuthieAnn, so the two of them had made a pact to be best friends from the time they were in third grade together.
Catherine or someone had already turned down the bed, which made it easy to get Jayden out of his shoes and pants and tucked in tight for the night. He liked his blankets tight all around him, which RuthieAnn tried to do. She would sleep on top of the covers, with only the colorful throw from the bottom of the bed, where she noticed a pair of striped pajamas, a couple white towels, a small basket of various toiletries, and a large-toothed comb. Bottles of water lined the large dresser, and a white terry robe hung in the open closet.
“This is so much better than a cold inn,” she said aloud as she briefly hugged the comfy looking robe.
As the heavy rain pelted the windows, she knew she’d made the right decision to spend the night.
The entire trip had been disruptive to Jayden’s routine, which his provisional cooperative attitude depended on . . . and this sleepover wouldn’t be helping. He’d been anxious ever since they’d left Las Vegas. RuthieAnn had taken the entire month of September off from her residency as a physical therapist, hoping she could have everything sorted out by the time she returned. She had about nine more months to go before she received her DPT degree, and didn’t want to do anything to hinder that from happening. She’d worked too hard for it, living off of grants, school loans, part-time jobs, and being supported by a community of strong-willed women who had helped with Jayden and their housing. She couldn’t have done any of it without their help and reassurance. Her stay at Hope For The Angels in Las Vegas, and everything she’d learned, along with the friends she’d made had turned her life around. Her connection to the people there, especially Jenny Watson, the founder, would be eternal. She and Jayden had a unique relationship mostly because Jenny’s teen daughter was also special needs with a mild case of cerebral palsy.
RuthieAnn hoped Jayden would adjust to living out of a suitcase during their time in Wild Creek, figuring that as long as she set up some kind of routine for him that he could adopt as his own, he would adapt.
Once Jayden was tucked in tight, RuthieAnn sat staring at her beautiful son as he slept, contemplating the significance of who waited for her downstairs.
She knew she had no choice in the matter. Chase was already beginning to put things together, and before he could guess, she needed to tell him what really happened out there on that road in those early morning hours.
She stood, took a deep breath and made her way downstairs, where Chase had lit a fire in the fireplace, and busied himself with pouring two glasses of red wine.
“I take it Jayden didn’t wake up and that the room is okay?” Chase asked, looking over at her, his face catching the warm glow of the fire.
“The room is perfect, thanks. Once Jayden is asleep, he’s usually out for nine hours straight. But what’s all of this? I thought we were going to take a look at your arm.”
He walked over to her holding two glasses of wine, then he held out one for her using his left arm. “Let’s have some wine first. The arm’s feeling better.”
“You’re lying.”
“Can you read my mind now?”
“No, but you handed me the wine with your left hand.”
“I’m ambidextrous.”
“Then hold out your right arm.”
“Do we have to do this now?”
“That was our agreement.”
“Fine,” he said, then slowly held out his arm after transferring his glass of wine to his left hand. When he about had it straightened, it began to quiver, and he immediately pulled it back. “I don’t want to do this.”
RuthieAnn put her wine down on the coffee table, with no intention of drinking it. One glass had been plenty, and even that had been too much.
“Did you have a glenoid fossa fracture? Was the center of the socket fractured? That can be difficult to address.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I think so. There are a couple plate
s and some screws in there. Lately, it’s been giving me trouble again.”
“Has your doctor mentioned shoulder replacement surgery?”
“Hell no. Plus, I haven’t told him about this latest setback, yet.”
It was her experience that more men denied their disabilities than women. An ego thing, she assumed.
“You might be developing some arthritis in there. It’s common in this kind of an injury. That accounts for the painful shaking. If you strengthen the muscles around it, you should get some of your strength back. But you’ll need to see your doctor.”
“I’m sick of doctors.”
“I understand, but . . . ”
“No, you don’t understand. Nobody can understand. Can we not talk about this, please?” Then he drank down most of his wine, using his left hand to do it.
RuthieAnn knew it was exactly what they needed to talk about. It was time she told him the truth. She only hoped he didn’t slug her, not that he seemed the type, and not that she didn’t deserve it, but RuthieAnn was never a good judge of character. It ran in her blood, probably from her mom.
“Why don’t you take off your shirt so I can actually see the muscles around your shoulder. That will help me to understand what’s happening.”
“Like I’m going to take my shirt off.”
“Why not? It’s not like I haven’t seen a man’s bare chest before.”
“Believe me, sweetheart, you haven’t seen one like mine before. That accident really tore me up.”
He went over to the coffee table, put his glass down, then picked up the bottle with his left hand and topped off his wine. She could only imagine all the scars he was hiding and it tore her insides apart. He was going to hate her once she told him the truth, but she hoped he would listen to her entire story before he made up his mind on how to react.
“I can handle it. I’ve seen some pretty bad scarring.”
He stood there for a moment, looking over at her. She could see the hurt and rage building. “This is ridiculous. I can’t do this. I should have known better. I thought this . . . I thought we might . . .”
