The Maverick's Reward

by Roxann Delaney

  “You’re putting your faith in the wrong man.”

  Before she could think of a response, he’d grabbed his cane and was struggling to his feet. It took every bit of resolve she had not to move to help him. Instead, she remained seated and focused her attention on the others, who were in a heated discussion about the latest college baseball game.

  But she couldn’t stop the feeling of helplessness that came over her. Somehow she would find a way to reach Tucker before things became worse.

  TUCKER MADE HIS WAY slowly into the house, glad to get away from the others, especially the good doctor. Too many people had asked him how he was feeling, and she’d even gone so far as to ask how the pain pills were working. He wouldn’t say so, but he was thankful those were once again doing their job. The pain no longer kept him awake at night. Dreams were another matter.

  He’d nearly reached the stairs that would take him up to the solitude that would save his sanity, when he heard someone approaching him from behind. Certain it was one of his family coming to see why he’d left, he turned to look, ready to give any answer it took so he could escape. To his surprise, it was his son, Shawn.

  “They sure do know how to talk, don’t they?” Shawn asked, a smile on his face.

  Tucker nodded. “That they do. Enough to wear a person out.” He’d learned that if he spent some time with his family, he could use being tired as an excuse.

  Shawn stopped a few feet from him, his smile slowly disappearing. “Then I won’t keep you long.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Tucker said quickly, wishing he hadn’t mentioned being worn-out. That wasn’t how he wanted his son to see him. “I’m not that tired.”

  A brief smile appeared for a moment, before Shawn nodded. “I only wanted to ask you something.”

  Tucker leaned against the wall to show he wasn’t going anywhere. “Sure. Go ahead.”

  “I have a baseball game on Monday, and I thought maybe you might like to come to it.”

  Tucker saw the hope in the boy’s eyes and couldn’t deny this small request. “No reason I can’t,” he answered with a shrug, although he knew that wasn’t completely the truth. He didn’t feel comfortable in public, but for Shawn, he’d do anything. “Just remind me. Sometimes I lose track of time.”

  Shawn’s smile lit his entire face. “Great! Yeah, I’ll remind you. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  “You’re not bronc riding anymore?” Tucker asked.

  Shawn shrugged and looked away. “A little. Not as much as I used to.”

  “Whatever you want to do.”

  After nineteen years, Tucker had a lot of time to make up. There’d been no communication with his family since he was fifteen and left in search of what he thought would be a better life. Rodeo had been his goal, and he’d wandered the circuit for a couple of years, until he’d discovered it wasn’t what he wanted. Or needed. But he hadn’t wanted to go back home, either. He wished with all his heart he’d known he had son. It was Shawn who kept him at the Rocking O Ranch now.

  “Well,” Shawn said, taking a hesitant step back, “that’s all I wanted to tell you. I guess I’d better get back.”

  Shoving away from the wall, Tucker wanted to reach out to him, to let the boy know he loved him. But love wasn’t something he knew how to convey. “I’ll see you later,” he promised.

  “Yeah.”

  Tucker watched him walk away before moving on to conquer the stairs. He always tried to make sure no one saw him going up or down. His worthless left leg made walking difficult enough, but stairs were his undoing. He had no doubt that if Jules knew, other arrangements would be made, but he liked the view from the upstairs bedroom, where he could see the barn and ranch. It gave him a feeling of peace. He wasn’t sure why.

  By the time he reached the top of the stairs, sweat had broken out on his forehead, and he wiped it away with his forearm. Leaning against the wall once again, he rested. At least his leg wasn’t hurting. He knew he had Paige Miles to thank for that, but telling her so wasn’t something he was comfortable doing. She was an attractive woman—much too attractive, as far as he was concerned. If he had a better track record when it came to women…

  He’d been a charmer when he was young. Shawn was proof of just how charming. From what Tanner had told him, Shawn’s young mother had dropped Shawn off with Tanner to raise when Shawn was six months old. Tucker hardly remembered Hollyanne and never knew he’d gotten her pregnant. He’d been sixteen and on an adventure. At the time, adventure meant a roll in the hay when he could get it, with several cans of beer, when available. He was ashamed to think about it. At least he’d matured, even though nothing ever got serious with any of the other women he’d met and dated.

  Tucker made his way around the circular hallway to his room. If it wasn’t for the stairs, he’d be able to get around without too much trouble, but he wasn’t going to say anything to Tanner about that. His brother tended to keep a distance between them, which was fine with Tucker. Tanner had tried to take the place of their father when they were young and Tucker had taken exception to it. Hated it, was more like it. It had been one of the main reasons he’d left. Now Tanner said little, as if the two of them were strangers.

  Lying on the bed, Tucker thought of his childhood, of how his mother had come and gone, then never returned. His father had left the ranch to look for her, certain she was riding the rodeo circuit. But a bull had put an end to Brody O’Brien’s search and his life, and had left two young sons alone. If it hadn’t been for Brody’s twin sister, Bridey, coming to live with them, Tucker knew his life and his brother’s would have been very different. They all owed her a lot of thanks.

  He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep, when a knock on the door awakened him. “Everybody’s gone, Tucker,” he heard Jules say. “Would you like some dessert?”

  “Come on in,” Tucker said, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed. He looked up when the door opened and saw her walk into the room with a plate of cake in one hand and a glass of tea in the other.

  “I can bring you some coffee, if you’d rather,” she said, handing him the glass and plate.

  “This is fine,” he said, and then added, “thanks.”

  She stood watching him as he placed the food and drink on the small table next to the bed. “We decided to raid the kitchen for supper tonight,” she told him. “Can I bring you something later?”

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll get something when I’m hungry,” he answered, even though he knew another trip up and down the stairs wouldn’t be easy.

  “You’re sure? It’s no trouble for—”

  “I’m sure,” he said, cutting her off. He hadn’t planned to be a burden to his family, but he couldn’t leave, not until after Shawn graduated. With that less than two months away, he didn’t have much time to get to know his son and be the kind of dad he’d always hoped to be someday, but he had to try. He couldn’t just walk away.

  Jules nodded and turned for the door. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  Tucker waited until she was gone before he picked up the plate and enjoyed the cake. It was a habit he’d formed while being held prisoner and had not yet managed to break, even after nearly a year since he’d been rescued. He’d never imagined that adjusting to life outside a primitive prison cell would be so difficult. But then his focus had been on surviving, not a life of freedom.

  Setting the empty plate on the table, he leaned back. Conversations from dinner floated through his mind. Most of them he didn’t pay much attention to. And he’d really tried not to be aware of the woman sitting next to him. Unfortunately that hadn’t been as easy as he’d hoped.

  PAIGE GLANCED AT her watch as she stood inside the clinic doorway. It was after three, and she needed to be at the baseball field. The game would start in less than an hour, and as team physician—a position she’d been surprised to be asked to take over—it was her job to make sure the players on all of the Desperation Desperados teams were in
good shape and warmed up before games to avoid injuries. With her car at the service station for a much-needed oil change, she’d asked her brother, Garrett, to pick her up and take her to the game. He was late, something that rarely happened unless he was tied up in court. If that had happened, there was no telling when he’d be free.

  With a sigh of frustration, she opened the door and stepped outside. After making sure the door was locked behind her, she began to walk in the direction of the high school. It wasn’t far, and the weather was pleasant, but she hated being late and never accepted appointments in the late afternoon on game days to make certain she would be on time. She’d discovered she enjoyed the extra work with the teams, because it gave her the opportunity to meet the younger generation in Desperation outside of the clinic. Without their parents, they were more honest about themselves and if they were hurting or not.

  She hadn’t reached the end of the first block when she heard a car honk behind her, and she turned around to see Garrett behind the wheel of his sports car.

  “Trouble?” she asked when she opened the car door and scooted inside.

  “Sorry,” he replied, putting the car into motion. “Something came up.”

  Sensing her usual charming brother had his mind on other things, she remained quiet during the short ride to the baseball field at the high school. She had enough to think about. One of the boys had been injured at the previous game on Friday and another at practice the day before. Nothing serious, but when it came to the boys and sports, she didn’t let anything go.

  Garrett pulled into the parking lot and stopped the car near the gate to the field. “Do you want me to come back to get you, or should I stick around?”

  “Why don’t you stick around?” she suggested, thinking he might enjoy watching the practice. He’d played in high school and some in college, too, and had enjoyed it. Nodding, he shut off the engine, and she reached for the door handle, but something didn’t feel right to her. “Garrett?” she asked. “Is everything okay?”

  He turned to look at her with his usual good-natured smile. “Yes, mother hen. I’m fine. But you’d better hustle.”

  Pausing for a moment to study him, she decided she was imagining things. He’d probably been thinking of something that had happened at work. He often said that being the city attorney wasn’t all that hard, but there were times he questioned if he’d been sane when he took the job.

  “All right,” she said, opening her door. “I’ll join you after the game starts.”

  Outside the field near the dugout, she could see the boys gathered around Jim Perkins, the football coach. A strict but fair man, he wouldn’t be happy that she hadn’t been on time, so she hurried in their direction.

  The group broke up as she reached it, and she stopped the team’s starting pitcher, before he began his warm-up pitches. “How’s your wrist, Ryan?”

  Ryan Wells held up his hand and flexed his wrist. “It’s good. The ice and bandage over the weekend did the trick.”

  She nodded and searched the others trotting onto to the field. “Tommy,” she shouted when she spied the second boy she’d seen at the clinic, the day before. “Let me look at that eye before you get started.”

  A big boy, he stopped at the sound of his name and ducked his head as he lumbered toward her. “It’s okay, Dr. Paige,” he told her.

  When he came to a halt in front of her, she reached up and gently touched the swollen area around the cut she’d butterflied the day before. “Tommy James, I told you to keep it iced all night.”

  He looked at her with eyes widened in innocence in his round, chubby face. “I did!”

  “Okay,” she answered, nodding, “but you’ll need to do it again, as soon as you get home.” Putting on her tough face, she frowned. “If you don’t, that eye’s going to close, and you won’t see the ball coming at you, much less the pitcher throwing it.”

  His head bobbed up and down. “I will, I will. I promise, Dr. Paige.”

  “Go on, then.” As he returned to join the other team members, she smiled and shook her head. Tommy might be a big guy—a real big guy—but he was a teddy bear.

  When the team began warming up, she took her time looking over each of them, watching for signs of pain or hesitancy in their movements. As far as she could tell, all were well, but she’d check with them again before the game started.

  “Keep an eye on them,” Coach Perkins told the new assistant coach, and then walked toward Paige. “You were late.”

  “Blame Garrett,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. He might intimidate others, but not her. “My car’s in the shop, and he was tied up at work.”

  Instead of answering, the coach looked over her shoulder, squinting his eyes. “Did you ever ask him if he’d be interested in helping out?”

  “His schedule won’t allow it.” She moved to take a seat on the bench. “He’d want to give it his all, and that isn’t possible.”

  “He was a good player at U of C. One of the best second basemen the division ever had.”

  “You don’t have to tell me.” Paige had seen many of her brother’s games and had been proud of his athletic ability. But he gave up playing when he decided to go into law instead of medicine, much to their doctor-father’s disappointment, on both counts. “If you talked to him, maybe you could get him to come by when he has the time. I think he’d like that.”

  “Yeah?” the coach asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Call him over. I’ll do that now.”

  Standing, Paige smiled and turned to the bleachers behind them. She’d never mentioned helping out at practices to Garrett, because she’d known his answer. His schedule was erratic, at times, so there was no reason to mention that the coach would love to have him around. Garrett hated to tell people no. But she also knew how much he’d enjoy helping, so she’d do what she could for him and for the team.

  The home team bleachers were beginning to fill with parents and others, in addition to students, who’d come to watch the game and support the team. She searched for her brother and found him seated halfway up the stands, talking to Ryan’s dad.

  “Hey, Garrett,” she called to him, shading her eyes against the late afternoon sun. “Can you come down here?”

  Garrett turned to Steve Wells and laughed, then stood to make his way down the bleachers. “What do you need?” he asked Paige.

  But before she could answer, someone sitting at the end of the lowest bleacher caught her eye. Tucker had come to watch Shawn.

  “Do you need something?” Garrett asked again when he stepped down to the ground.

  “Coach wants to talk to you,” she answered, but her attention was on Tucker, who appeared to be focused on the team.

  “Why?”

  Paige’s answer was a shrug.

  Garrett didn’t move. “Something wrong?”

  Shaking her head, she looked at him. “Just thinking. Let’s go see what Jim wants.” Looping her arm through his, she decided to ignore Tucker and walked with Garrett to talk to the coach. There was no reason to suggest PT to Tucker today. He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested. It wasn’t right to let him get away with causing himself more damage, but she’d pick another time to remind him again. At some point, he might just listen to her. This didn’t feel like the time. Besides, seeing him there had unnerved her a little. But she didn’t miss that his cane was propped next to him, and she breathed a soft, sad sigh.

  Chapter Three

  Tucker watched Paige walk away from the stands, unable to tear his gaze away from the smooth swivel of her hips. Shifting on the hard bleacher, he wondered what she was doing there. Considering she’d talked to a couple of the injured players, he guessed she might be the team doctor or something. What he didn’t know was who the guy was that she’d called down from the bleachers. Boyfriend?

  Frowning, he turned his attention to Shawn, who was talking to the coach. He always felt a swell of pride when he saw his son. For now, it kept his mind off the
doctor, something he knew he needed to work on.

  “Tucker? Tucker O’Brien?”

  Turning, Tucker looked up to see the man who’d spoken to him. “Yeah, that’s me.”

  The man smiled. “You don’t remember me. Jimmy Tartelli,” he said, offering his hand. “My older brother was in your class in school.”

  Recognition dawned, as Tucker took the outstretched hand and thought back to his early days in Desperation. “Right! Yeah, I remember Ben. You, too.”

  “I’ll have to let Ben know you’re back in town. He’s asked about you often.”

  And you had no answer, Tucker thought. Nobody did. Only his grandmother Ayita knew he’d joined the marines when he turned eighteen, and he’d sworn her to secrecy. “How’s Ben doing? Still here in Desperation?”

  “No, he’s career air force, currently stationed in Qatar.”

  “I’ve heard it’s beautiful there.”

  “So he’s said. Mind if I sit down?” Jimmy asked.

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  Jimmy moved around Tucker and settled next to him on the bleacher. “If the earlier games are any indication, we have a good team this year. Shawn is a great shortstop.”

  “I’m looking forward to seeing him play,” Tucker replied. When his grandmother had told him he had a son, he’d expected Shawn to be riding broncs or bulls, like the rest of the O’Briens had. Tanner had told him that Shawn had chosen broncs and was damn good, and that he’d team-roped with Dusty. But a couple of years ago, he’d become interested in traditional sports. Tucker didn’t mind. From experience, he knew a life of rodeo wasn’t easy. His brother might be a national champion bronc rider, but even he’d retired as soon as he’d won that gold championship buckle.

  “He’s a good kid,” Jimmy said, looking toward the field.

  “Tanner did a good job raising him.” Tucker hated to admit it, considering how he’d resented his older brother trying to play dad when they were young. But it was true. Lots of things could have happened to a motherless boy—as they had with him—but Shawn was a good kid, and Tucker had Tanner to thank for it. Maybe someday he and his brother could mend the past and be more like real brothers.