by Vonnie Davis
When Storm returned from town, he was still in a sour mood. He’d had another argument with Pilar over the phone and ordered her never to call or text or e-mail him again. The water pump cost twenty dollars more than he’d been quoted over the phone yesterday, he’d broken some eggs when he’d tossed the grocery bags into the truck, and damned if he hadn’t done something utterly stupid. He’d bought Rachel an angel.
What possessed him to buy it, he hadn’t a clue. The thing had caught his eye when he passed Amanda’s Antiques. He’d stopped to admire the angel, thinking it reminded him of Rachel with its long, flowing blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. The angel was holding a golden scroll upon which were painted the words, “Angel of Hope.”
Before he knew it, Amanda, owner of the antique shop, was handing him back his charge card and a pink floral gift bag with tissue paper artfully sticking out of the top. Tucked inside all that tissue paper was a note card he’d signed without thinking. What a damn fool.
He’d set the bag on the front seat of the pickup before going in the grocery store to get the items on Noella’s list. Making his way through the store as quickly as he could, he mentally kicked himself for making that impetuous purchase. What in God’s name had he been thinking? More than likely she wouldn’t accept a gift from him, anyhow, after the way he’d yelled at her earlier. When he’d returned to his truck after buying the groceries and seen the bag again, he’d been so disgusted with himself he’d tossed the groceries onto the floor—thus the broken eggs.
Later, Storm was in his office talking to a supplier on the phone when he heard Sawyer’s chatter coming from the pool area. He spun his swivel chair around to look out the window and make sure the boy wasn’t near the pool alone. To his surprise, both Sunny and Rachel had Sawyer in the water. Pistol’s short legs ran back and forth along the edge of the pool as the dog barked in excitement. Storm hadn’t seen his sister swim in almost a year. Yesterday when she’d mentioned buying a new swimsuit, he’d figured she planned to lounge around the pool.
He barely heard the person’s response on the other end of the phone line. Should Sunny be in the water? What was that fool nurse thinking? His sister should be resting, conserving her energy. For that matter, Nurse Rachel shouldn’t be in the water either after passing out this morning.
He slammed the receiver and charged down the hall to the door leading to the patio and pool. Fool women. Did he have to watch them every minute of the day? Between the two of them, they didn’t have enough common sense to choke a gnat.
****
Rachel was treading water next to Sunny and her excited little boy. “Today you’re going to play in the pool for ten minutes with Sawyer. In three days, we’ll increase it to twenty minutes. You’ll swim a lap across the pool next week. You’ll do that for three days before we increase it to two laps. We’ll make small increases until your stamina builds up. Promise you’ll tell me if it’s too much for you, okay?”
Sunny was beaming. “You’re sure I can do this?”
“You need sunlight and exercise to get stronger.” She cast an eye at the excited child. “Plus, Sawyer needs his mommy to play with him.”
Storm snapped off the CD player Rachel had set on one of the umbrella tables. The strains of Kenny Chesney’s latest CD died. “Rachel, get out of that pool!” His order reverberated off the tall redwood fence surrounding the pool area.
“Unkie Storm! Unkie Storm, wook at me! I’m swimming wif Mommy and Wachel.”
Storm took his angry, piercing gaze off Rachel and smiled at his nephew. “I see, buddy. Don’t make Mommy tired. Okay?”
Rachel glanced over her shoulder at the child’s deflated face. She was going to have to lay some ground rules with this man. He couldn’t interfere with her treatment plan. She hoisted herself out of the pool and reached for a towel from the pile next to the CD player, wiping her face and blotting her hair.
Storm stood in front of her, fuming, clearly gaining steam for a battle. Well, she’d give him one. She was still ticked off from the way he’d acted earlier, accusing her of flirting with Ben. Storm Blackhawk had no right to tell her what to do. Wasn’t that how the abuse with Kyle began? First he’d criticized her friends, slowly alienating her from them. Then the name calling started, followed by the shouting and finally the hitting. She’d not go through that again with anyone.
She tilted her head and looked at the arrogant man. “You’re interrupting my time with my patient. What is it?”
The tall man with his authoritative presence jerked his head toward his sister. “She shouldn’t be playing around in the water.” He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “What if she takes a chill?”
“Chill? It’s ninety-four degrees and it’s barely eleven o’clock.” She wouldn’t let this man intimidate her. “I have a regimen of treatment scheduled for your sister, based on my training and experience with cancer patients.” Just for emphasis and to show him she meant business, she punctuated her words with finger jabs to his hard chest.
“Her doctor approved every item on my detailed plan yesterday. Sunshine and exercise are part of the regimen, as are massages and naps and healthy eating. Don’t interfere again.” She pressed the button to turn on Kenny’s singing.
Storm slammed the button, ending the song. “Who in the hell do you think you are? You’ve been barking orders at me and her since you got here.”
Once more, she punched a finger into his hard chest. “I’m a medical professional your sister hired to do a job. I work for her, not you.”
Storm grabbed the finger she’d been poking into his chest. “You go too far, Nurse Rachel. I don’t want her overextending herself.”
She jerked her finger away from his firm grasp and glared at him, understanding his concern, yet knowing she had to stand her ground. “Neither do I. That’s why she’ll only be in the water for ten minutes. My waterproof watch has an alarm on it in case I lose track of time.” She held her watch for him to see. Then, she looked away for a heartbeat, searching for a way to make him understand. “You said last night you enjoy running this ranch.”
“Yes.”
“How much of your day is spent outside, doing physical work?”
“Sunup till sundown most days. Some days I’m trapped inside, like today, entering figures in the computer.” His eyes narrowed. “What’re you getting at?”
She shrugged. “Just wondering. Suppose you got sick and couldn’t work the ranch. Imagine how you’d feel. Wouldn’t that be stressful for you? How would those stresses impact your recovery?”
“I never get sick, so it’s hard for me to imagine that.” He waved a hand in a dismissive gesture.
She fisted her hands on her hips. “Don’t you have an imagination?”
His eyes swept down her body, over her sleek, lime green one-piece swimsuit. A slow smile spread across his handsome face and his dimples flashed. She felt her nipples tighten in response—damn them anyhow.
His gaze swept to lock on hers. “Oh, believe me, I’ve got a very vivid imagination.” He reached out and lightly ran a fingertip up her arm. A frisson of desire flooded her system so fast it nearly buckled her knees. For one second they were oblivious to their surroundings. Storm stepped closer. Her breathing quickened. Her tongue licked her bottom lip in nervousness, and she swore she heard him groan.
Sawyer shot past, jarring them from their private sensual cocoon. “Gotta go bafroom!”
Storm stepped back, shaking his head. “Kid’s got perfect timing.”
Rachel needed to get control of this situation and of herself. “As you so succinctly stated earlier, I’m here in a professional capacity, not to be friendly with anyone. My work here is very important. Sunny’s health is paramount.”
A muscle bunched in his jaw and his eyes turned cold. “You’ll get no argument from me on that.”
She nodded once. “Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do. One more thing, stop putting pressure on that little boy to prote
ct his momma. He’s a child. Sunny needs him to be a child, not a protector. That’s what you and I are for.” She turned, dove into the pool and swam two laps before she calmed down enough to return to her patient.
Sunny’s allotted time in the pool was over. She spent thirty minutes reclining on a chase lounge watching Rachel and Sawyer play in the water. Her serene smile told Rachel she was greatly enjoying the normalcy of the morning, listening to the squeals and giggles of her little boy.
Later, when two long horse trailers rolled in the dirt driveway, creating large clouds of dust, Noella was serving drinks to three people on the front porch. Sawyer was jumping up and down with excitement. Sunny was holding a bouquet of red roses and wearing a dazed smile. Rachel, well, Rachel was mad as hell.
Disregarding the order Storm had barked at her earlier in the day, she’d donned jeans, a navy T-shirt and boots after her time in the pool, determined to help unload the mustangs. However, when she joined the ranch hands at the paddock, Storm had ordered her, in no uncertain terms, to get back onto the porch—the bossy jerk.
“Lunch will be later than usual today. Master Storm needs extra time with the wild horses.” Noella set a plate of raw vegetables and fruit on the stand between Sunny and Rachel. Then she handed Rachel a frosted glass of lemonade. “If you don’t slow down on that rocking chair, you’ll rock yourself to Mexico. Master Storm was right to insist you stay on the porch out of harm’s way. Wild horses can be unpredictable.”
“Yeah, well, Storm didn’t have to bark at me that way. He can be so damn bossy.” She grabbed a carrot stick and chomped into it. Noella and Sunny both shook their heads and pointed to the child. Rachel slapped her forehead. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, Unkie Storm can be so damn bossy.” The child proceeded to stuff his mouth with grapes.
“Damn is a word you can’t say, young man. Only two grapes in your mouth at a time. You’ll choke.” Sunny picked two grapes from the bowl. She pointed to them. “One…two. That’s how many you can have. One…two. Now, show me how well you can count two grapes.”
The child, eager to show off, beamed a grapy smile and plucked two grapes from the bowl. “One…two.” Sunny and Rachel both applauded. Sawyer giggled and bounced around the porch like a ball. “One…two…one…two.”
Sunny tugged a rose from the bouquet and handed the rest to Noella. “Put these in some water, would you, please? I still can’t believe Jackson thought to bring me roses.”
Noella took the flowers and smiled. “You know how that man feels about you, but I say nothing.” She turned and stepped inside, humming “Her Comes the Bride.”
Sunny held the rose to her nose and sniffed. “The day that woman says nothing will be the day they hand out ice water in”—she cast her son a sideways glance before spelling the word—“h-e-l-l.” Both women laughed.
Men hollering in the paddock drew their attention. The first of the mustangs charged out of the trailer, ears laid back, hind legs kicking. The trio on the porch watched as the wild horses were unloaded. Rachel had never seen such beautiful, spirited creatures. “Oh, they’re breathtaking, aren’t they? Look at how they hold their heads. Like they’re proud of who or what they are.” She munched on a stem of broccoli.
“Some are descended from Spanish Conquistadors’ horses.”
Rachel glanced at Sunny. “Really?”
Sunny nodded and took a sip of her drink. “Their ancestors were called ‘dawn horses.’ From what I understand, they were a much smaller creature back when they roamed here fifty million years ago. For some reason they disappeared from North America. Then when the Conquistadors reintroduced them, they were larger animals. They became a vital part of life here. Indians and settlers all depended on them. Columbus brought horses, too. Sleek, desert-bred horses.”
“Wonder why they disappeared from here in the first place? Ice Age? Lack of food? Aliens?”
“I haven’t a clue.” Sunny studied the mustangs and smiled. “You’re right, though, they do have an innate pride about them.”
They were gorgeous. So was the authoritative man on the black stallion, but she refused to acknowledge that. Still, her eyes seemed to search Storm out, and she became angrier every time her gaze landed on him—damn the attraction.
“Mommy, I like the white one with the brown spotted neck. Can I have him?” Sawyer was pointing and jumping up and down as if on a trampoline.
“They aren’t ours to keep, sweetheart. We’re just taking care of them. Didn’t Unkie Storm promise you a pony for your fourth birthday?”
“Uh-huh, and I want that one.” He pointed with his chubby finger and his lower lip stuck out in a pout.Sunny slapped a hand over her eyes and groaned. “Oh no, I feel a tantrum coming on. He’s over-stimulated, which tends to make him demanding.” She leaned her head back and sighed.
“Tired?” Rachel reached out to take Sunny’s hand, checking her pulse.
“Yes, all of a sudden I am.” She was pale and a little breathless.
“Why don’t you lie down for a quick nap? Rest some before lunch so you can enjoy Jackson’s company. I’ll see to Sawyer.”
Sunny stood and swayed for a second. Rachel jumped up and took her arm. “I don’t know if I can make it up the steps.” Sunny’s voice was weak.
“Sawyer, come take Mommy’s hand, would you please?” She led her patient inside, past Storm’s office and down the wide hall toward the den. “Why don’t you lie down on the sofa in here? Save you from going up those steps.” Sunny settled onto the leather sofa. Rachel covered her with a brown and orange afghan. “Kiss Mommy so she can have sweet dreams.” Sawyer smacked a loud kiss on Sunny’s lips.
Rachel scooped Sawyer into her arms. “Come on, tiger. Let’s go back outside and watch Unkie Storm herd the horses onto the range.” She turned to her patient. “You sleep. He’ll be fine.” Sunny nodded and closed her eyes.
Rachel carried the eager child down the porch steps and near the fence, stopping about four feet away. The delight on his chubby-cheeked face was visible. Unfortunately, so was the displeasure on Storm’s.
He whirled his horse toward them. “Keep him away from the fence.”
Moron. Overbearing, bossy man. As if she would do anything to harm this adorable child. She hiked her chin a notch and glared at him. She’d not move closer to the fence, but she’d not move back, either. He had to learn she wouldn’t follow his orders. Never again would she bend to a man’s will. Hadn’t she promised herself that as she hiked the mountain trails in Colorado? One mistake with the male gender was enough.
The child turned to Rachel and sighed. “Unkie Storm being damn bossy again.”
Before she could correct him, a chestnut-colored mustang with a black mane arched her back and kicked her hind legs into the loins of Storm’s horse, causing it to rear up. Rachel’s heart caught in her throat as she watched Storm struggle to gain control, talking to his horse and patting its neck. If he hadn’t been glaring at her, he’d have seen the chestnut approaching. Maybe she’d better step out of his field of vision before the daggers his eyes were shooting found a home in her hide.
“What color is your new remote control car, honey?” She turned and carried Sawyer toward the house, hoping her question would distract the child from the horses.
“It’s wed wif black stwipes. Wanna see it?” He beamed a smile.
She kissed him. “Sure. Will you show me how it works?”
Chapter Eight
When they finally gathered around the table for their late lunch, Rachel’s food stuck in her throat. She’d been seated next to Storm and could sense his displeasure. Although he’d washed the dust, grime and sweat from his face and arms in the mudroom and tugged on a clean, faded yellow T-shirt, he still smelled of sunshine and horses. She was trying very hard not to notice him or his anger…or the way that worn T-shirt stretched over his muscles.
Jackson had stayed for lunch. He was sitting next to Sunny, and the two seemed lost in their own world. The nap had
revived her. The color was back in her cheeks again, and she seemed more animated.
Sawyer’s incessant chatter about the mustangs helped ease the tension radiating off Storm. Sawyer wanted to know the names of all the horses, and Storm was obviously making them up on the spot to please the child. Some were goofy to make him giggle.
“Is that all you’re going to eat? Rabbit food?” Storm motioned to her salad with his fork.
“Since I’m a diabetic, my dietary needs are different. I avoid most breads and high-carbohydrate foods.” She shrugged, indicating it was no big deal.
“I think you should eat more than a puny salad.” His jaw was set in obvious determination. He extended a bowl of sliced peaches to her. “Here, eat.”
“Unkie Storm, you can be so damn bossy.”
All heads swiveled toward the little boy. “What did you just say, young man?” Storm set the peaches down, a shocked expression on his sun-weathered face.
Jackson laughed out loud, and Sunny elbowed his ribs. “Don’t encourage him.” She gave her son the stern-mother look. “Sawyer Dalton Abbot, didn’t I tell you earlier you couldn’t say that?”
Storm stared at his sister. “He said the same thing about me earlier?” He sounded hurt.
“It’s my fault.” Rachel reached out, laying a hand on Storm’s work-roughened one. “I was angry with you for sending me back onto the porch, and I mouthed off before I remembered little pitchers have big ears. He was only repeating what he heard from a thoughtless adult.”
Storm glanced at his nephew while unconsciously turning his hand over, entwining his fingers with hers. “I see.” A jolt of heat shot up her arm. He must have felt it too, for his head slowly turned, and he stared at their joined hands. His gaze rose to hers. She started to pull her hand away, and his grip tightened. “I was right to send you to the porch. That paddock was no place for a sick woman.”
“I’m not sick. My body just doesn’t process glucose or sugars like most people’s.” She shrugged and smiled. “So I monitor my glucose levels, exercise and watch what I eat. I lead a perfectly normal life.” Except when I kiss strange, naked men on quiet country roads, falling in love at first sight. Her cheeks heated. Her heart pounded. Where? Where had that thought come from?
