“But we aren’t done, are we?”
She tried for a smile and hoped he didn’t notice that it was forced. “No, but we’re getting close.”
“Then I’ll see you next week,” he said, moving off the table.
“It won’t be long,” she told him as he walked past her as if she wasn’t there. “The more you work at it, the stronger your leg will be.”
“I’ve stopped taking the pain pills.”
“That’s good.” But she was disappointed that he wouldn’t look at her. Talking about the past had brought out the worst in him. Was it because it was a time he didn’t want to revisit? She couldn’t blame him, when it came to his last experience as a marine. He seemed to be angry at the world, but she wondered if it was himself he was angry with.
“Same time next week?”
She looked up to see him standing in the doorway. “Yes, same time.”
He left the room, and she listened to his footsteps as he walked down the hall and then out the door in back. There was so much to like about Tucker, if only he’d let people get closer. But she knew that getting closer to him wouldn’t be good for her. She had no idea what his plans were, but she could sense that he wasn’t a man who would ever settle down. He’d obviously seen the world—some of the worst parts of it—and had experiences that had left him with emotional scars. He wasn’t the kind of man she needed, no matter what Kate or Jules or anyone might think. She just wanted to help him.
Or at least that’s what she told herself as she turned out the light.
JUST AS BEFORE, it was as if he’d stepped back in time. The barn was quiet, except for an occasional swish of a tail, a soft whinny or a muffled clip-clop of a hoof. He’d been thinking even more since his last appointment about doing what he hadn’t done for almost twenty years, and now Tucker was ready to give it a try. But which horse should he choose?
If he’d been thinking, if he’d planned this, he should’ve asked which horse belonged to which family member. He didn’t want to saddle and climb on someone else’s mount, but he hadn’t asked, and besides, there were extras. There always were. The O’Briens were generous with their stock and kept extras for guests and visitors. But who would he have asked? Jules? She would’ve been concerned if he was able to ride. He couldn’t have answered her. He didn’t know the answer—one of the reasons he wanted to try to ride without anyone knowing.
“That buckskin there might be a good one.”
He turned at the sound of Rowdy’s voice. “You should’ve been in Special Forces,” he told the man, “the way you’re able to sneak up on people.”
Rowdy snorted. “I don’t sneak. I just mind my own business and keep my mouth shut, until I find it necessary to say something.”
Tucker couldn’t argue with that. Rowdy had been at the Rocking O for as long as Tucker could remember. He knew his father had hired him as his first ranch hand when his father had purchased the land, then had later made the man the ranch foreman. Rowdy knew more about the ranch than anyone. And, if truth were told, probably about the O’Brien family, too.
“I’ve kind of had my eye on the sorrel,” Tucker admitted.
“Good choice, but a little more on the frisky side. Think you can handle him?”
Tucker considered the question. “I don’t know.”
Rowdy nodded and his smile was slow and knowing. “Give him a try. You’ll do fine.”
There was no argument from Tucker. He’d thought he’d never walk again without pain, and now the little pain he had was manageable. He wasn’t completely clean of the meds yet, but he was getting there. Riding was another goal he was working toward. He might be rusty at it, but he was learning to give himself a chance.
Rowdy turned to walk away, but stopped and looked back. “Need any help saddling?”
“I think I can remember how,” Tucker answered, smiling as he thought of all the times he’d saddled a horse when he was young. “I guess trying will tell the tale.”
Rowdy’s expression didn’t change. “Yep. Extra saddles and bridles are in the tack room, along with saddle blankets in the cupboard. If you need me, give me a shout.”
“Thanks,” Tucker said, as he watched Rowdy leave the barn.
Once he’d gathered the equipment he needed, Tucker started saddling the horse he’d chosen to ride. Only once did he hesitate, but it wasn’t because he’d forgotten, it was because he realized he’d done it all to that point without giving it much thought.
It was when he went to mount that he had a problem. Although his left leg was stronger than it had been even a few weeks ago, he found it difficult and a bit painful to reach his left foot into the stirrup, not to mention the leg being strong enough to boost him upward to swing his right leg over the saddle. It took several tries, and he nearly quit, but he finally succeeded and started his ride, in spite of the new pain he was feeling.
His discomfort was quickly forgotten as he revisited the ranch he remembered from his childhood. There was no doubt that Tanner had worked hard to make the Rocking O a success, and Tucker marveled that his older brother could do it, while still keeping active in rodeo.
But once the coveted gold buckle was his, Tanner had chosen retirement, had married and then had begun a family to carry on the O’Brien name. Tucker had to admit his brother had more perseverance than he’d ever had himself. The only thing they seemed to share was their last name, and he wondered if Tanner had ever regretted even that.
Tucker didn’t realize how much time had gone by as he’d ridden over the ranch land, seeing again the hills and valleys, the creeks and pastures that had fascinated him so many years ago. If it hadn’t been for his father dying on the rodeo circuit, maybe things would have been different, but that was something none of them would ever know. And Tucker had never regretted becoming a marine, even when he’d believed he would never survive his capture.
A sudden rumble in his stomach finally prompted him to check his watch. Realizing he’d missed lunch and could easily miss his weekly appointment with Paige, he urged his horse back to the barn, where he found Rowdy and Tanner saddling their horses.
“Thank God,” Tanner said, as Tucker rode into the yard.
Tucker urged the sorrel through the open gate and into the corral, where he dismounted, wincing at the pain in his knee. “Did you think I got lost?” he asked, looking from one man to the other and suddenly feeling like he was eight years old.
“You were gone a long while,” Rowdy said, “and, well…”
“Better safe than sorry,” Tanner said, and headed for the barn, leading his horse.
“I lost track of time,” he answered with a shrug. “It’s been a long time.”
“Everything’s okay, right?” Tanner asked, when Tucker led his horse into the barn.
“My knee’s a little sore,” Tucker admitted. If he’d been truthful, it was more than sore, and he wished he’d had enough sense to know it wouldn’t be easy getting on and off. But he’d sure know better the next time. Right now, he needed to clean up and see Paige. He quickly corrected his thought. He wasn’t going to see her, at least not in the way most people would think. No, not at all. He just needed his knee checked. And he had a bad feeling she wasn’t going to be happy with him.
It wasn’t long before he was proven right.
“You’re limping,” Paige said as Tucker walked in the back door of the clinic.
“It’s nothing.”
“Really?” she asked, following him to into the big room.
He didn’t bother to even glance at her. “I’m fine.”
“I’ll be the one to determine that.”
Not wanting to talk about how foolish he’d been, he wasn’t in the mood to argue. “I took one of the horses out for a ride, that’s all.”
Without saying anything, she waited for him to take his place on the table. When he pulled up the leg of the sweatpants he’d worn, she let out what could only be called a disgusted sigh. “Your knee is badly swollen.”
“I’ll be all right,” he insisted, even though his knee hurt like hell and he wasn’t convinced he hadn’t done some serious damage.
“This time,” she said.
When she looked at him, their gazes locked. Her eyes reflected her concern, and he felt bad for causing it. He knew he should’ve checked with her first about the riding, but he’d honestly thought there wouldn’t be a problem. Would she believe him if he told her that? He doubted it.
“Tucker, I know how much you want to be normal, for your leg to work like it did before you were injured. And it can. But you have to take the right steps and do the right things to make that happen. Pushing yourself beyond what’s safe could do more damage, and that could mean damage that might not heal completely.”
A large lump had formed in his throat, and all he could do was nod his understanding. He didn’t know why he felt this way. He usually didn’t feel this kind of emotion. Whatever was causing this, she cared. About him.
“So what can I do?” he asked and was relieved when she finally smiled.
“You’ve been working with the recumbent bike at the high school?” When he nodded, she continued. “Keep using it and keep icing. If anything you do causes sharp pain, stop immediately. And I’m serious about that. I also think it’s time to move on to the last list of exercises.”
The last list. That sounded good to him. He knew it wasn’t over yet, but it was getting close, and except for what he’d done today, he’d been doing pretty good.
“One more thing,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“Start walking. It’s good for overall conditioning.”
“And here I was thinking of getting myself a car,” he joked.
But instead of laughing or even a smile, she continued. “No jogging. Absolutely none. Walking only.”
“Okay.” He’d done enough five-and ten-mile runs in the marines that a leisurely walk sounded good. But Paige seemed distracted, and he didn’t know how to ask if it was something he’d done. His little riding experience hadn’t turned out as well as he’d thought it would, and he wondered if she was angry with him. And why should he care? But watching her walk away, he couldn’t drag his gaze from the sway of her hips, the shape of her long legs, or just the sight of her.
He was in trouble.
PAIGE PLANTED HER HANDS on her hips and looked up at the ceiling of the cavernous building. The barn, which had once housed livestock after it was built in the early 1800s, had withstood the ravages of time as well if not better than the old Colonel’s house had. Now a community room for the use of not only those who lived at the Commune, but also anyone needing the space, it was currently in the process of being turned into a glittering fairyland for Desperation High School’s junior-senior prom that night. Thanks to Hettie Racine Lambert, the great-great-granddaughter of Colonel George Ravenel, the prom would not be held in the school gymnasium as it had been for years, and the students were thrilled.
“How many strings of white lights do we have?” Paige asked.
“There’s ten of the regular size here,” Jules answered, “and six of those tiny ones.”
“And those are the regular ones around the perimeter?”
“We have two more regular strands left.”
Paige turned to look at her friend. “How opposed do you think they’d be to having one of the big, shiny disco balls in the center?”
Jules laughed. “Other than thinking it’s cheesy? I think they’ll get used to it and like it.”
“I do, too,” Paige agreed. “So let’s try putting one up in the center, then string those small lights out from that to the corners of the room.”
“Good idea, but where will we find a disco ball?”
Paige frowned and shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Kate joined them, carrying a large box of votive candles. “I do. Or at least I have an idea where one might be found.” Her smile was Cheshire catlike as the other two waited. “The Blue Barn.”
Paige shook her head, thinking of the notorious honky-tonk located not far out of town. “Oh, I don’t know—”
“Oh, pooh,” Kate said, setting the box on the floor. “Dusty and I had our wedding dance there, and I seem to remember seeing one of those balls in a storage area when we were checking out the place during our wedding planning. I’ll just have Dusty go and find out.”
Paige still wasn’t convinced, but she liked the idea of using it to have the lights dancing around the room. “If you think so.”
“I’ll get him on it right now,” Kate announced and walked away.
Jules looked at her watch. “I really should run up to the Commune and check on Wyoming. Hettie volunteered to watch him while we decorated. Why don’t you take a break, too?”
Taking one more look at the room and imagining how it would look when they were done, Paige nodded. “I wouldn’t mind a breath of fresh air.”
“You go on,” Jules said. “I’ll let the others know we’ll be gone for about fifteen minutes.”
Happy to have a few minutes to herself, Paige stepped outside the building into the beautiful early May afternoon. Since moving to Desperation almost a year and a half earlier, she’d learned that Oklahoma weather could be fickle, especially in late spring. But there were no indications of storms for the weekend, and she was happy the prom-goers could enjoy their special evening and not worry about the weather.
Although she’d been to the Commune to visit friends and patients before, she’d never really looked around the grounds surrounding it. With a few minutes to wander, she crossed to the back of the huge, ancient barn, and found herself in an old orchard. It was obvious it wasn’t in use anymore, but the trees were in bloom, and she walked farther into the orchard, amazed at the natural beauty around her.
“They’re apple trees.”
Paige spun around at the sound of Tucker’s voice, and her heart raced. “They’re beautiful,” she answered, suddenly feeling a little breathless.
“The story goes that Colonel Ravenel had the orchard put in for his wife, Anne,” he explained, walking toward her. “The family kept it up for a couple of generations, but after a while, it was pretty much let go. I used to play here when I was a little boy. Most of us did. Apples make great ammunition, especially when they’re rotten.”
Paige laughed, imagining Tucker with his friends, pelting each other with soft, icky apples. “I’m sure they do.” She looked up at the nearest tree. “I seem to remember hearing Hettie say she’d like to see it restored.”
“It would take some work,” he said with a shrug, “that’s for sure. But what are you doing, roaming around out here?”
She took a few steps and began a leisurely walk through the trees. “I’m helping with the decorations for prom.”
“That’s where I was headed,” he said, following a little behind her. “Jules said there’d be plenty of work for the men, what with all the hanging of this and that. Not that I know anything about proms.”
“You never went to one?”
“Proms weren’t high on my list.”
He’d moved to walk beside her and she stopped, turning to him. “You know, that’s too bad. Proms are like an American rite of passage.”
“I suppose. So were you prom queen or whatever?”
“Me?” Paige asked, laughing. “Not hardly.”
“Why not?”
She could’ve sworn he was closer, but she hadn’t seen him move. Shoving the thought aside, she answered. “I was a gangly teenager with my nose in a book.”
“But you did go to a prom.”
“Yes,” she said, and quickly changed the subject. “What else did you do here when you were young?”
He looked up at the tree they were standing under, and as she looked up to see what had caught his attention, he pressed his lips to hers. So taken by surprise she didn’t know how to respond, she didn’t try to push him away, not even when he pulled her into his arms. His wide chest was solid. Strong
. And she felt a rush go through her as a strange calm settled around her. It seemed an eternity before he stepped away, leaving her wanting, but knowing she shouldn’t.
“Wh-what—” she stuttered, not sure what she should say.
He pointed up, and she tilted her head back to look in the tree.
“Mistletoe,” he said.
“You’re kidding.” She’d heard some strange stories, but this one beat all. And then she saw it, the green, glossy leaves tangled within the branches of the apple tree.
“It’s Oklahoma’s state flower.”
“It’s not really a flower,” she answered, as her head began to clear. “It’s a parasite.”
“A quasiparasite, but it is the state flower.” His smile was slow and so sexy her breath caught, and then he spoke. “You asked what else we used to do out here when we were young. Now you know.”
Her laugh began like a tiny bubble in her chest, and then erupted. “You brought girls out here and kissed them, using mistletoe as the excuse. How awful of you!”
He shrugged, and his smile grew wider. “They didn’t mind it.”
And Paige had to admit she didn’t mind it, either, except that it had left her with feelings she couldn’t name or explain. And it was wrong. Over the few weeks they’d worked together on his therapy, she’d tried not to admit how strong her attraction to him had become. If she’d been any other woman, all would be well. But she was a doctor. He was, in a way, her patient, and she was teetering on the breach of unethical behavior.
“I guess I should get back,” she said, needing to get away from him. His answer was a nod, and he said nothing. She tried to smile, but her worry made it hard. She wasn’t sure what she should do. If she stopped helping with his therapy, refusing to work any longer with him, would he quit? He’d come so far, she didn’t want to see that happen. But if she did continue to help, she would have to guard her feelings and make sure nothing else ever happened again.
Chapter Seven
Tucker waited on the porch for Shawn. When his son stepped outside the house, Tucker joined him. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
The Maverick's Reward Page 9
