“I just— It happened before I realized what I was doing,” Tucker admitted.
Nodding, Morgan smiled. “Like I said, it’s a good thing. Thanks for reacting so quickly.”
Embarrassed, Tucker only nodded.
“You know,” Morgan began, leaning back in his chair, “I could use another deputy. There’s only two of us, and I’ve finally managed to get the city council’s approval to hire another. You’d sure be an asset for us.”
Surprised, Tucker wasn’t sure what to think, much less say.
“I can’t imagine doing anything like that,” he said, honestly. “And I doubt that I could pass a physical. There’s a rod in my lower leg, and I’ve had ACL surgery on my knee.”
Morgan nodded. “I can understand your hesitancy, especially with the injuries, but we’d take that into account.” He leaned forward. “You know what a small town this is,” he said. “You grew up here. Most of the time it’s quiet, with nothing more than an occasional dust-up like tonight.” He leaned back again and ran his hand down his face. “I’ll admit that there was a problem a year or so ago, and even I came to understand that anyplace could be dangerous, under the right circumstances. But that’s rare, I can assure you. You have the training to deal with those things. Just look at how you handled Trent.”
Tucker did think about it, and he thought about how he’d nearly lost his temper with the man, before Morgan had stepped outside. Sure, he had the training, but he also had experiences that few people had, and those experiences made him different than others.
Those experiences also made it impossible for him to ever get close to anyone, even if he’d wanted to. Paige had managed to make him start feeling again, but he didn’t want that. He liked the numbness he’d felt for so long.
“I appreciate your offer,” he finally told Morgan, “but I can’t take the job. Not right now.”
Not ever.
Chapter Ten
“Any pain?” Paige asked Tucker as she moved his leg, testing the flexibility of his knee.
“Not a bit, even when Nikki and I went riding on Tuesday.”
Alarm that he’d risked reinjuring his leg caused Paige to look up at him. “I thought we discussed that,” she said.
What might have been a smile was now a frown. “We were careful, I promise.”
More careful than they’d been about using protection? she wanted to ask, as she ducked her head and continued to flex his knee. But she’d already admitted to herself that it was as much her fault as his, maybe even more. After all, she was a doctor and knew the risks. Not just about pregnancy—and thankfully there was very little chance anything like that had occurred, considering the timing. She didn’t even want to think about what could have happened had that timing been different. No, there were other repercussions, such as STDs and HIV. But even that wasn’t what bothered her. She knew he was clean. She’d seen his medical files.
“Paige?”
Unwilling at the moment to look at him, she released his leg and stepped back. “Everything checks out great,” she told him as she moved to put away the instruments. “In fact, it’s so great that I don’t see any reason for you to come in again.”
“Yeah?” There was a note of relief in his voice. “So I’m released?”
“Unofficially,” she answered, “because none of this was official to begin with.”
“And I haven’t thanked you for that,” he said. “In fact, I was downright mean at times.”
She smiled, remembering just how difficult it had been in the beginning, but she didn’t turn around to face him. “Don’t worry about it. The important thing is that you can walk without a cane, and especially without pain.”
“Yeah, it is,” he agreed. “So what do you say about a little celebration?”
Taken off balance, she turned to stare at him. “Celebration?”
“Sure. I owe you, and I was thinking maybe I could take you out to dinner or something. Tonight, maybe?”
Dinner with Tucker was out of the question, and she shook her head. “You don’t owe me anything.” She turned back to the cupboard and began straightening it. Anything to keep herself busy.
“Then think of another reason.”
She felt him close behind her, but refused to turn around. “It isn’t necessary,” she repeated.
“Why not?” he asked. “You took time out of your life to help me. You didn’t have to. As you pointed out, you’re a doctor, not a physical therapist. Yet you agreed to help.”
“Somebody had to,” she answered, and then turned around. He was standing so close, it wouldn’t have taken anything to reach out and touch him. She didn’t. That, she knew, would’ve been wrong.
He was quiet for a moment as he watched her. “It’s because of what happened last Saturday, isn’t it?”
Her breath caught. “No.” She instantly regretted the lie, but she couldn’t change it.
“That kind of thing is against the rules, isn’t it?”
Silently, she nodded.
“No hanky-panky between the doctor and the patient,” he continued. “Even when you were being a friend, not a doctor. And you’re all about the rules, aren’t you?”
Nodding, she sighed, as threatening tears burned her eyes. “I have to be. I worked hard to become a doctor. I could lose my license over it.”
He moved closer and brushed her cheek with his hand. “Nobody is going to know about it, unless one of us tells someone. That won’t be me.”
Unable to speak and fearing tears would start falling if she even tried, she nodded.
“So let’s go celebrate the end of my therapy with some dinner.” When she started to shake her head again, he put a finger under her chin and lifted her head, his eyes meeting hers. “A simple dinner, nothing fancy, not in Desperation.” He hesitated and smiled. “And I promise to behave. So what do you say?”
She didn’t want to say no, but she wasn’t sure she could say yes. Warring with herself, she convinced herself that he’d never technically been her therapy patient, there wasn’t a reason she couldn’t say yes. “All right,” she answered, unable to hide her smile. “Let me lock up, and I’ll meet you out back.”
For a brief moment, she thought he was going to kiss her, but he stepped back instead. “Don’t be long,” he said, walking to the door to the hallway. “Friday nights are always busy.”
Five minutes later, she stepped out the back door and made sure it was locked. When she turned around, Tucker jumped out of his SUV and hurried to open the passenger door for her. Settled inside, they were on their way in minutes.
As they headed out of town, she asked, “Where’s this place we’re going?”
“North of Edmond.”
“That far?” she asked.
He turned to smile at her. “Yeah, but the food is worth it.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” she said, and settled in for a longer ride than she’d expected.
They talked about the high school baseball team, then they talked about everything—except what had happened between them and how they felt about it.
They’d been driving along for several minutes, each wrapped in their own thoughts, when Tucker cleared his throat. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”
Unsure of what he might be referring to and a little nervous about it, she cautiously asked, “What’s that?”
“Do you know what I like best about you?”
If they hadn’t been traveling at sixty plus miles an hour, she might have been tempted to grab the door handle. Instead, she simply replied, “No. What?”
“You didn’t give up on me.”
Paige wasn’t sure how to answer. “I guess it takes a stubborn person to deal with another stubborn person,” she answered.
“It was more than that.” He took his eyes off the road ahead long enough for her to see he was serious. “You just kept insisting that I do some physical therapy, no matter what I said. Why?”
She’d never shared th
e experience with Jeff with anyone, not even her dad, who was a surgeon and would have understood. Glancing at Tucker in the seat beside her, she realized it might be time to tell the story. Once shared, it might no longer hold the power it had.
“I was doing a rotation when I was an intern, learning all kinds of aspects of medicine,” she began slowly. “One of the patients we visited was a young man who’d received a spinal injury from a dive that had left him paralyzed and in a wheelchair.”
“How old was he?”
“Early twenties,” she answered as a vivid memory of Jeff, looking up at her with his beautiful smile, drifted into her mind. “I used to stop in and see him before I left the hospital for the day, no matter how tired I was.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” he said softly.
She smiled, but didn’t respond to the remark. “Two years earlier, he and some friends had been out partying on the nearby river, where there was an old, unused railroad bridge. There was drinking and dares were made, not for the first time, to dive off the bridge. They’d taken the dive before, and all had been well.”
“Riverbeds shift,” Tucker said, in the dark confines of his vehicle.
“That’s the one thing they didn’t think about,” Paige whispered. “From what I heard, Jeff had originally taken it in stride, but as time went on and by the time I met him, he’d fallen into a deep depression. He’d stopped the therapy that he needed and was back in the hospital. He told me once that he didn’t have anything to live for.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I guess he didn’t think he did.”
They were silent for a moment, before Tucker spoke. “What happened to him?”
Paige couldn’t stop her sigh. “Officially it was an accidental overdose of the medications he was taking. I think it was much more than that.”
“I guess I can understand why you were so tough with me.” He slowed the SUV and pulled into a parking lot north of Edmond, found an empty space and turned off the engine.
She turned toward him, hoping he would understand. “It wasn’t the lack of physical therapy that killed him, although in time, considering his injury, it could have,” she whispered. “It was his despondency that killed him. He truly believed there was nothing left to live for, and I think he took an overdose on purpose. He was wrong. Except for being confined to that wheelchair, he was a vibrant, funny, intelligent young man.”
Reaching out, Tucker took her hand. “I’m sorry, Paige.”
“It was a long time ago, but you asked why I kept at you. I hope you understand.”
“I do.”
“Good.” She didn’t regret having told him, but she was glad it was over. “Can we eat now?”
TUCKER COULDN’T REMEMBER having a more enjoyable evening. He’d chosen the restaurant for several reasons. First, it was far from Desperation and the atmosphere was casual. And second, the place was co-owned by a marine he’d served with when he’d first joined the Corps, long before he’d become special ops. When Rick saw them come in, he stopped at the table to say hello, and Tucker introduced him to Paige, before business called Rick away.
The food was as good as promised and they took their time eating. Conversation was easy both at the restaurant and on the way home, much later that night. Paige talked about growing up in a medical family in Chicago. Not only was her father a doctor, but her mother was also a retired surgical nurse. She joked about her brother being the family disappointment by going into law, instead of medicine, but it was plain to see that she was as proud of him as she said her parents were.
Tucker shared memories of growing up on the ranch, going to rodeos to see his mother ride and how he’d dreamed of being a rodeo star when he grew up. Keeping stories of his experiences in the Corps to a minimum, he shared happier tales of travel and seeing the world. By the time they were on their way home, he was wishing the evening didn’t have to end, but he knew that wasn’t possible for him. It would all end soon. There was no reason to think it wouldn’t.
At the clinic parking lot, he walked her to her car, thanked her for a wonderful evening and managed not to take her in his arms. After he’d followed her home to make sure she arrived safely, he drove slowly down the empty streets of Desperation, wishing again that his life had been much different, but knowing he’d had opportunities he’d refused to take.
He hadn’t meant to disturb Tanner, but his brother looked up when Tucker walked past the open door of the ranch office. “You’re in late,” Tanner said.
Tucker didn’t see any reason not to be honest and he stopped. “I took Paige up to a place north of Edmond for dinner. One of the owners is an old friend from the Corps.”
“By the look of you, I’d say you enjoyed yourself.”
Tucker didn’t want to say too much and give Tanner the wrong idea, so he answered with, “She’s a nice lady.”
“We sure think so. Desperation was lucky to get her.”
“Yeah,” Tucker answered. “Well, I guess I’ll turn in.”
He’d taken two steps when he heard Tanner clear his throat. “If you have a few minutes…”
Stopping, Tucker turned back. “Sure.”
As Tucker stepped into the room, Tanner moved from behind the big, solid wood desk that had been their father’s, and leaned against the front edge of it. “I owe you an apology,” Tanner said, as Tucker took one of the upholstered chairs that sat facing it, just as he had when he was a boy.
Tucker rubbed his palms on the arms of the chair, wondering what had gotten into his older brother. “For what?” he asked.
“You were right about letting Shawn go to that graduation party,” Tanner said. “He’s eighteen. He’s proven that he’s a responsible adult. He’s going to drive halfway across the country with Ryan in less than a week. It’s time to let him make his own decisions.”
Tucker nodded. “And maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”
“Why would you think that?” Tanner asked. “He’s your son.”
“And I wasn’t around to raise him.” Just saying it made his heart heavy. “You didn’t have much of a choice, did you?”
Tanner chuckled, but it held little humor. “I have to admit that when a girl I’d never seen before came to the door with a six-month-old baby in her arms and told me you were the father, I was pretty much speechless.”
“You were engaged to… What was her name?”
“She didn’t take too kindly to me having a baby,” Tanner answered, without mentioning the name. “It probably saved me from making a major mistake I would’ve regretted forever, so Shawn was a blessing in disguise.”
“But you had a clue how to be a father,” Tucker reminded him. “After trying to tame me, that is.”
Tanner glanced at the floor. When he looked up, his mouth was set in a grim line. “I never wanted the job of being your father, Tucker. It was more responsibility than I knew how to handle, and I made a mess of it.”
“I guess we both did,” Tucker admitted.
“I was too hard on you,” Tanner continued. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to keep you in line. You always had that wild streak. That…” He shrugged.
“Wanderlust,” Tucker said. “That’s what Dad said about Mom. Even Grandmother Ayita used that word.”
Tanner nodded. “Yeah, that would be it, I guess. You took after Sally. I was afraid Shawn was going to do the same thing when he was fourteen or fifteen. If it hadn’t been for Jules, I’m not sure he’d still be here. I wasn’t handling it much better than I did with you. I know it was my fault you left and—”
“No,” Tucker said. “At least no more your fault than mine. I was pretty headstrong, determined to ride the circuit and be a big rodeo star.” He laughed and shook his head. “Pretty ironic that you’re the one who won the championship. I didn’t have it in me, so I’m damn proud to tell people you’re my brother.”
“No more proud than I am of you for getting the help you needed for your knee and leg.”
&
nbsp; Tucker had suspected the family had guessed he was working with Paige. “I did it for Shawn,” he told Tanner. “At first, anyway. Then when I started actually seeing improvement—and especially when I could walk up the stairs without a twinge—there wasn’t any way I was going to give up for anything.”
“So you’re finished? Paige isn’t working with you on the therapy?”
“We’re finished.” Tucker realized that he meant that in more ways than one. He and Tanner had come full circle and somehow worked out the problems from their past—at least as much as possible. It was time to move on.
As Tucker moved to stand, Tanner stopped him. “Before you go…”
“What?”
Tanner didn’t directly look at him. “You aren’t the only one in this family with relationship problems. Before Jules, I really believed that if I loved somebody, they’d leave. Imagine what I went through when Jules came along.”
“I didn’t know,” Tucker answered. “She was able to help you, though.”
“Eventually I came to my senses, but while she was dealing with her own problems. She didn’t like my career and left me over it.”
Tucker looked at him. “Really?”
Nodding, Tanner smiled. “Someday we’ll tell you about it. Tucker, nobody is perfect, and the O’Briens seem to have more than their share of problems. We manage to do some things that are right, though.”
Still surprised at his brother’s revelation, Tucker got to his feet and held out his hand. Tanner pushed away from the edge of the desk and took it in his, giving it a squeeze. “Let’s put the past behind us and be the brothers we should’ve been,” he suggested.
Tucker, feeling his throat tighten, nodded. Before he could manage to say anything, the phone on the desk rang and Tanner reached for it. “See you at breakfast?”
“I’ll be there,” Tucker replied. He didn’t add that it would probably be the last meal he’d share with his family, at least for a long time. Now that he and Tanner had made their peace…now that he’d gotten to know his son, but would never know those years he missed, it was time to move on.
The Maverick's Reward Page 14
