Joshua regarded her doubtfully. “That’ll be a first. Casey brought you some clean clothes last night. I’ll wait outside while you get ready to go.”
Garrett nodded.
“Casey, you want to wait with me?”
She glanced at him, then just as quickly looked away. “Mom might need me.”
He nodded. “I’ll be waiting just outside, then.”
In the hallway he tried to figure out why the tension in the room had suddenly been as thick as last night’s fog. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Casey had spent the night at the hospital, maybe Garrett was angry because Casey was going to miss school today. That would have been an easy enough explanation, but Joshua couldn’t quite buy it. He’d seen the bleak expression in Casey’s eyes. He’d noticed how she seemed to avoid meeting his gaze. Unless he missed his guess, they had argued about him.
When the door finally opened and Garrett hobbled out, she allowed him to take her arm. She protested only mildly over having to leave in a wheelchair. She thanked the nurses. She thanked the doctor. She even thanked him for being there to take her home. In fact, she was altogether too agreeable. She kept up a cheerful, nonstop monologue all the way to the car. The change in the weather seemed to fascinate her. She commented on it endlessly.
But all of Garrett’s talking couldn’t cover Casey’s unnatural silence. He knew teenagers were prone to sulking, but he’d never seen any signs of it in Casey.
“Want to stop for breakfast?” he suggested as they drove out of the parking lot.
“I’m starved,” Garrett admitted. Casey said nothing.
“Any suggestions?”
“We could stop at Frank and Lena’s diner, where I used to work. I haven’t seen them in ages.”
“Is that okay with you, Casey?” He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw rather than heard her mumbled response. He nodded. “Okay, then. You point the way.”
Garrett guided him onto the highway, then to a turnoff just out of town. The diner, which was essentially a double trailer, sat by the side of the road, its red neon sign flashing hopefully against the gray sky. A handful of pick-ups lingered in the parking lot. Joshua pulled into the spot closest to the front door.
“You stay right where you are,” he warned Garrett. “I’ll get you.”
“Joshua, I can walk a few feet.”
“And get your cast soaked in the snow. Not a chance.” He reached in and scooped her up before she could rally another protest. “Casey, lock up for me, okay?”
She regarded him sullenly, but did as he’d asked. Joshua opened the door to the diner and was instantly assailed by the aroma of fresh-baked muffins, bacon and coffee. A tall, lean woman wearing an apron glanced up from the grill and let out a whoop that was part joy and part dismay.
“Traci Maureen Garrett, what have you gone and done to yourself?” she clucked, rounding the counter to help with Garrett’s coat.
“I took a spill from a horse,” Garrett said.
“Well now, honey, that doesn’t sound a bit like you,” she said, regarding Garrett with concern, then turning to Casey and wrapping her in a hug. “Now, let me just look at you. I swear you’ve grown another five inches since the last time you and your mama were in here. Pretty soon you’re going to be taller than your mama and twice as pretty.”
Casey’s mouth curved into a hesitant smile that faded almost before it began. She slid into the booth next to her mother, as if to protect her from Joshua.
Lena turned to him. “Now, just who are you, handsome? I don’t recall seeing you around here before and I know all the good-looking cowboys. Can’t say I blame Garrett for keeping you all to herself.”
Joshua held out his hand. “Joshua Ames. I’m doing some work for Mrs. McDonald.”
“Of course. You’re that bookkeeper from back east.”
He grinned ruefully. “Not exactly, but that’s close enough.”
“Well, I’m mighty glad to know you. Now what can I get you all to eat? Casey, honey, you want your French toast like always?”
“I guess,” Casey mumbled.
Lena shot a penetrating look at her. “Then why don’t you give me a hand over here. You always were a better cook than your mama. How about you, Garrett? Scrambled eggs and bacon?”
“Perfect. Potatoes and biscuits, too. I’m famished.”
“And I suppose you want the works, too?” she said to Joshua. “Eggs sunny-side up?”
“How’d you know?”
“Lucky guess,” she said with a wink. “I’ll be right back with the coffee.”
When Lena went back behind the counter, Casey went with her, clearly anxious for the escape. When she didn’t return with the food, but remained with Lena, Joshua frowned. “What’s up with Casey?”
Garrett looked momentarily guilty, then lifted innocent eyes to challenge him. “Nothing.”
“Garrett, the girl hasn’t said two words in the last hour. Now maybe for some kids that would be normal, but not for Casey. She’s usually chattering a mile a minute.”
“It’s probably just a delayed reaction to the accident and seeing me in the hospital.”
“Maybe,” he said doubtfully. “I’ll talk to her when we get back to the ranch.”
For an instant, a look that might have been fear flashed in Garrett’s eyes before she looked down at her eggs. “Leave her alone, Joshua. It’s just the way teenage girls are, up one minute and down the next.”
“Have you talked to her about what’s bothering her?”
“Joshua, she is fine,” she insisted, but he noticed that she suddenly seemed to have lost her appetite. She was pushing her eggs around on her plate and when she finally tired of that, she went to work on her toast, breaking it into inedible little pieces.
“What did you say to her?” he asked finally.
Her gaze shot up, met his, then skidded away.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You had a fight.”
“Okay, yes. But I’m telling you it was just one of those mother-daughter things.”
She might have been convincing, if her hands hadn’t been trembling so badly.
“Did my name come up in this mother-daughter talk?”
“Joshua, not everything revolves around you.”
“I’m well aware of that, but you’ll have to pardon me for seeing two and two and coming up with four. It’s the mathematician in me.”
“Well, this time you’ve totalled wrong.”
“You won’t mind if I ask her that, will you?”
Her cheeks flooded with scarlet. “Yes, damn it. This is none of your business.”
“It is if it involves me.”
“You keep saying that and you have absolutely nothing to go on.”
“I have the fact that Casey and I have grown very close since I came back to Wyoming. She has confided in me. As recently as last night, she seemed to trust me. Now she won’t even look me in the eye. You add it up.”
He could see that his words had hit the mark when her shoulders drooped and the color drained from her face. “Please leave it alone,” she begged softly.
“I wish I could,” he said with a deep sigh. “But I love the two of you every bit as much as if you were already my family.”
He was ready to say more, but she cut him off. “We’re not your family.”
“Not yet.”
“Not ever.”
Suddenly he realized the toll the argument was taking on her. Her eyes were shadowed with fatigue. “Look, this isn’t something we’re likely to settle now. We’ll discuss it later.”
“There’s nothing to discuss.”
“You are an incredibly repetitive woman.”
“And you are an exhaustingly stubborn man.”
“An interesting match, don’t you think?”
“Joshua!”
“Let’s go get you into bed, sweetheart.”
“In your dreams.”
His eyes widened with feigned innocence. “What a wicked m
ind you have, my dear.”
“Oh, go to hell,” she muttered, but there wasn’t much spunk behind it.
“Whatever you want,” he said agreeably.
She glared at him.
“Ready to leave?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Always. I can sit here sipping coffee all day long, if that’s your preference.”
“Then I’d like to go home, Joshua.”
“I do so love it when you’re docile.”
“If I weren’t loaded up with pain medication and immobilized by this cast, I’d show you just how far from docile I’m feeling right now,” she informed him, her eyes flashing.
He grinned. “I’ll take a rain check.”
Her lips twitched and, though she fought it admirably, laughter bubbled out. “Oh, Joshua,” she said with a sigh. “You are impossible.”
“No, sweetheart, I am very possible.” He dropped a kiss on her nose, then another on her lips. He might have lingered there for an eternity, tasting the sweetness, memorizing the shape, savoring the warmth, but Casey chose just that moment to join them.
Avoiding Joshua’s eyes, she said stiffly, “I want to go home now.”
“Your mother’s tired, too. If you’ll get her coat, we’ll hit the road.”
For an instant he thought she might not go. She cast a reluctant look toward her mother, but she went. Joshua figured he had just enough time for one last kiss, but Garrett thwarted that by hobbling away to say goodbye to Lena. Chagrined, he went after her. When he slid her coat around her shoulders, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Later.”
She never once missed a beat in her conversation with Lena, but he felt the shudder that swept through her body. It wasn’t much for an impatient man, but it was the most he was likely to get. It would hold him…for a time.
Chapter Eleven
Garrett was a lousy patient. She had the temperament of a bear with a thorn stuck in its paw. Joshua had the devil’s own time trying to get her to let him take care of her.
Over Garrett’s strenuous objections, Mrs. Mac had insisted on settling her into the main house so that she could be properly looked after. The room she’d chosen, with a definite twinkle in her eyes, happened to be just down the hall from Joshua’s. Garrett had warily gauged the distance, then retreated into silence.
Once left alone, she had stayed dutifully in bed for about two minutes. She had been halfway down the stairs when he’d caught her, scooped her up and carried her back. An hour later when he’d taken her a bowl of vegetable soup for lunch, she’d practically flung it in his face. Then she’d ordered him out of her room, out of the state, out of her life. She’d emphasized it by pointing the way.
Joshua crept back an hour later and found her asleep. He lingered in the doorway, unable to take his eyes off of her. The sight of her in that bed, even clad in a less than provocative nightshirt, did amazing things to his pulse. Guiltily—the woman was in pain, after all—he backed out the door. He was about to close it when her eyes blinked open. She sat bolt upright, stared around in momentary confusion, then sagged slowly back to the pillow.
“Feeling any better?” he asked, stepping inside but keeping a careful distance between himself and that all-too-tempting bed.
She groaned and turned her back on him. “Go away.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“My files,” she said, turning a hopeful look on him.
“How about a magazine?”
The counter offer drew a fierce scowl. “I have work to do. I want my files.”
“How about a stockman’s journal?” he compromised. “It wouldn’t be my choice of leisure reading, but you might like it.”
“I want my files.”
“You have a decidedly one-track mind.”
“So do you but I get paid for mine.”
“You’re on vacation.”
“I don’t take vacations.”
“You do now.”
“Says who?”
Mrs. Mac stuck her head in. “Says me. How are you?”
“I broke my ankle. That’s hardly cause for all this fussing,” she grumbled.
Mrs. Mac approached the bed far more bravely than Joshua dared. She plumped the pillows, ignoring Garrett’s sour expression. “Maybe it’s about time you let the rest of us fuss over you. You work too hard. The ranch won’t collapse if you take some time off.”
Joshua could tell from the suddenly fearful look in Garrett’s eyes that Mrs. Mac’s reassurance had exactly the opposite effect. “Just think what fun you’ll have catching up,” he taunted her. “Hours and hours of work piled up. You’ll be able to feel incredibly noble.”
Mrs. Mac regarded him oddly, then caught on. “That’s right. The work will be waiting. I don’t know of anybody here who’s likely to snatch it out from under you and see that it gets done. Now why don’t you pretty yourself up a little and let Joshua carry you downstairs for dinner. I brought you a lovely new robe.” She handed over some pink satin and French lace confection that set Joshua’s pulse racing.
Fingering the satin cautiously, as if she feared the very femininity it suggested, Garrett said, “I can get down the stairs on my own.”
“And spoil my fun?” he protested. “Not on your life. Need any help getting dressed?”
She shot an appealing look at Mrs. Mac, who was chuckling. She scowled. “Traitor.”
Mrs. Mac drew herself up to her full, imposing height. “Humph! Some people don’t see what’s staring them right in the face.”
“Which is? I’m sure you’ll be happy to point it out to me.”
Mrs. Mac shook her head. “Actually, I won’t. I think I’ll leave that to Joshua. Dinner is in forty-five minutes. If you’d like a glass of sherry, you’ll need to hurry.”
“From the look of things, I could use the whole damned bottle,” she muttered, but she swung her legs over the side of the bed and hobbled into the bathroom. When Joshua repeated his offer of help, she slammed the door.
“Guess not,” he said, and stood back to wait for her.
It was a pattern that was repeated for the next three days. Garrett’s mood deteriorated with each passing day that she was confined to her room. She snapped at Elena. She had Casey fleeing the room in tears. Even Mrs. Mac was giving her wide berth by the end of the third day. Only Joshua dared to venture into the room. He waved a white handkerchief first, then poked his head in.
“Don’t shoot. I’m unarmed.”
“Unfortunately so am I.” She was sitting in bed, her arms folded across her chest, glowering at him.
“You have a nasty attitude.”
“It’s not getting any better being cooped up in here.”
“Then I think I may have just the thing. Put on your warmest duds, sweet thing. I have a surprise for you.”
Instantly her eyes flared with more excitement than she’d demonstrated since he’d made passionate love to her in that cabin. “You’re taking me home?”
“Better than that.”
“There isn’t anything better than that.”
“See if you still feel that way in an hour. Now, speed it up before I change my mind.”
“Five minutes,” she vowed. “Don’t leave me.”
His expression suddenly sobered. “Never. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
* * *
Garrett sank back on the bed in defeat. There was no way in hell to get her jeans on over that damned cast. And if she couldn’t even get dressed, how could she go with Joshua? It was a measure of her boredom that she couldn’t bear the possibility of missing this outing. Emotional dangers and pitfalls were the least of her worries. The unceasing sameness of these last few supposedly relaxing days was about to drive her out of her mind. She would have made a bargain with Satan himself to escape this tedium. Joshua pretty much fit into the same category.
She tugged on her jeans again, but they were hung up on that cast and no amount of coaxing was likely to solve the prob
lem. She needed scissors.
“Joshua!”
He opened the door a crack. “Ready?”
“I need scissors.”
His glance fell to the jeans that were sagging around her right ankle. Slowly his gaze worked its way from bare ankle to calf, from calf to dangerously exposed thigh. He swallowed hard as his gaze settled on the scrap of lace masquerading as panties.
“Scissors?” he repeated in a choked voice.
“My jeans won’t fit over the cast.”
“So I see.” Laughing eyes that still smoldered with desire met hers. “Maybe I can help.”
Now it was her breath that was snagging. “Scissors would be better,” she said, but he was already kneeling in front of her, his fingers hot against her bare skin as he caught the cuff of denim and ripped. He tore it very, very slowly, his gaze studiously on the task, his fingers sliding along her leg. The feathery caress was sheer torment.
“Is that far enough?” he finally asked.
Tongue-tied, Garrett nodded, then glanced down. “There’s just one thing,” she said, unexpected laughter suddenly threading through her voice.
Joshua’s dazed eyes met hers. “Hmm?”
“It’s the wrong leg.”
His glance shot to the jeans. As he took in the ripped right leg and the cast on her left leg, he rubbed his hand over his eyes. “It’s your fault. When I touch you, I can’t concentrate.”
“Then don’t touch me,” she said.
“I can’t do that, either,” he warned, sounding helpless for the first time since she’d met him. His hands rested on the bed on either side of her hips. She sensed the turmoil raging inside him as he kept his hands away from her. With her own heart pounding, she knew she had to find some quick way to break the spell that was slowly weaving its way around them.
“Then at least do me one favor, okay?” she said, tangling her fingers in his hair.
“Anything.”
“Stay away from the rest of my wardrobe.”
She counted the heartbeats before Joshua finally chuckled and the tension snapped.
“Good idea,” he agreed briskly. “Now do you have anything else to put on that doesn’t require alterations or should I finish off these jeans?”
Joshua and the Cowgirl Page 12
