Home on the Ranch: Her Cowboy Hero
Page 13
He turned, something catching his attention. Jayden. She stood just off the rail, listening, and there was such a look of horror on her face that he had to turn away. Well, it was about time she learned the whole ugly truth. Maybe she’d realize what a loser he was. A strong man, a good man, wouldn’t have thought about taking his own life.
He turned back to Bryan. “So I know exactly what you’ve been through, asshole. I’ve been through worse than you. But you know what? Who cares? What I do know is you’re done. You either ride today or you’re going home. I’m sick of wasting my time and yours.”
Bryan stared. Colby didn’t give a damn. He walked Bentley back into her stall, where he’d tie her up until it was time for her to go to work. When he came back out, Bryan had already wheeled himself out of the barn, his arms pumping with such ferocity it was like he was trying to wheel himself all the way back to his home state.
Colby probably shouldn’t have spoken so harshly.
He caught Jayden’s gaze, but only for an instant, a horse blocking his view for a moment, and he was grateful for the temporary loss of eye contact, because he couldn’t look at her. He didn’t want to see what was in her eyes. Probably disappointment. Maybe even disgust. Nothing more than he felt for himself.
Damn it.
So he turned away, went about his task of getting the other horses ready, putting Bryan and his troubles with Jayden out of his mind, at least until he came face-to-face with her as her lesson ended. It was chaotic then, however, as they worked with veterans on dismounting before they headed off to lunch, their next batch of riders arriving one by one.
And Bryan.
Colby froze near the front of the arena and the ramp they used to mount guests on horseback and where they told everyone to meet. All the veterans and a few of their volunteers watched Bryan approach. The sound of clopping hooves coming down the barn aisle preceded Jayden as she emerged leading Annie. She stopped, too.
“Well,” Bryan snapped. “What are we waiting for?”
* * *
Jayden fought the urge to cry.
Colby’s story. What he’d been through... No wonder he kept pulling away from her. The guilt she’d heard in his voice...
But she needed to focus. Bryan needed them now. The man grumbled as they hoisted him onto Beau, and it was lucky that the other three guests were ex-military, too, because the man could curse like a sailor. And they were also fortunate that their guests had a good enough handle on guiding a horse they didn’t need a volunteer on one side of them like Bryan did, something else he complained about as they led him away from the ramp and toward Derrick, who held the gate he’d been working on open for them.
“You can take your lunch now,” Colby said.
His look was the same as it’d been earlier, full of shame and maybe even anger. Angry? At himself? Her? Bryan?
“Actually, I would rather stay if that’s okay.” Even though a part of her would like to leave as much as he wanted her gone. “You’re a little shorthanded anyway.”
“Can we get on with this?”
They both turned toward Bryan. Jayden lifted a brow. Colby swung away.
Penny, one of their volunteers, guided Beau toward the arena. They’d secured Bryan to a special saddle, one designed for quadriplegics, with a chair-like back and belts that were secured around a patient’s waist and special stirrups that would keep his feet in place.
Colby moved to the center of the ring. He would be ringmaster for this round. The other three vets, all men younger than Bryan, smiled as they filed one by one into the arena. Not Bryan. He had the same look on his face as an army major who’d lost a battle, and maybe in some ways that was how he viewed his therapy.
“Okay,” Colby called. “Everyone circle around me. We’re going to stay at this end of the arena, and the first thing we’re going to do is our warm-up exercises. Does everyone remember how to do those?”
“Try to touch your toes.” Jayden smiled up at Bryan. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”
“I can’t even feel my damn toes. How the hell do you expect me to know if I’m touching them?”
She forced her smile to stay in place. “I’ll tell you if you’ve done it right.”
Bryan eyed her like she was the simplest form of life on earth. “Come on. Try it.” She increased the wattage of her smile. “It’s good for strengthening your core.”
“Why? So I’ll have abs of steel for the ladies? No, thanks. I doubt anyone will be looking at me in a damn wheelchair.”
He would try the patience of a saint. But mixed in with her frustration she felt a deep vein of sympathy for the man. He was clearly in pain, both physically and mentally, and even though he was a colossal pain in the rear, she empathized with him. “Penny,” she said to their volunteer, “why don’t you just let him go?”
Penny glanced back at her in surprise. “Excuse me, Miss Gillian?”
She stepped away from Bryan. “Tie the lead around Beau’s neck. We’re going to let Bryan decide where he wants to go.”
“What’s going on?” Colby called.
Penny had pulled Beau to a stop off to the side. She helped him secure the lead rope.
“Bryan doesn’t want to do any of the exercises, so I thought we’d just let him ride around on his own.”
Colby signaled for the other men to stop. He crooked a finger at her. She hated being summoned like that, resisted the urge to do the same thing back, but they should probably discuss things out of Bryan’s earshot.
“You can’t just turn him loose,” he hissed when she walked up to him.
“Actually, Colby, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to turn him loose without a spotter or anyone controlling the horse. I’m going to let him be the one in control. Beau will be fine,” she said, reading the look in his eyes. “That horse wouldn’t harm a fly.”
“He might lose his balance.”
“He might do that even with someone standing by his side. We should let him go. Let him figure it out. Lord knows nothing else we’ve done so far has worked.”
“I’m not getting any younger,” Bryan called in a singsong voice.
“You know, for a man in his thirties, he can sure act like my three-year-old,” she grumbled.
Colby stared down at her, and the carefully blank expression had faded. In his eyes she saw some of the same desperation she felt, a need to help someone that was as intrinsic as it was to breathe. It was part of what drew her to him, she admitted. Part of the reason why, even now, standing in the middle of an arena, she felt the need to touch him, to grab his big hand and squeeze and tell him it would be all right.
“Let him go, Penny,” he called, motioning the volunteer over. “Bryan, you’re on your own. The rest of you guys keep circling. This time I want you to reach behind you and try to touch your horse’s tail.”
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Bryan motioned toward the reins Walter had just handed him. He had to hold them tight, which was probably a challenge with his damaged hands, but good for him. “My hands are no good for anything.”
“You’ll figure it out.”
But Colby’s eyes conveyed his uncertainty about her plan. He rolled the dice anyway, and it meant the world to her that he trusted her judgment. When Paisley had turned three she’d drawn her first picture, handing it to her with pride in her eyes, and Jayden had felt such a flood of emotion it’d filled her eyes with tears. She experienced the same influx of emotion now.
“This will work,” she said softly.
It had to work. Something had to get through to the man.
“Hello,” Bryan said. “You two just going to let me stand here all day?”
“Move your hand in the direction you want to go.” Jayden forced herself to not reach for the reins to show him. “Pull back if you want to stop.”
“Stop? Hard to stop when you’re standing still.”
“Cluck, like this.” Jayden clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “That’s Beau’s cue to move forward.”
“I’m not going to cluck like a damn chicken. You guys can just take me out of here right now. I’m done with this. Done with it all. And I’m going to sue you for putting my life in danger. I don’t have use of my hands, and you’ve just left me standing here.”
“Your hands work just fine,” Colby yelled right back. “Well enough to guide Beau.”
Jayden didn’t know if it was Bryan’s yelling or Colby’s or the divine hand of God, but Beau started to walk forward.
“Hey, hey.” He clutched the saddle horn, reins slack in his hands. “It’s moving. Tell him to stop.”
“His name is Beau.” Colby’s voice conveyed his own impatience. “And Jayden told you how to stop. Pull back on the reins. Or move your hand to the left or right if you want to go somewhere.”
That was exactly what Bryan did. He jerked the reins with such force Jayden wondered if his hands were really as weak as he made them out to be. Beau thrust his head up. Lord love the blue roan gelding, though, because he didn’t get mad, just pushed his head down so that the reins were nearly jerked out of Bryan’s hands, forcing him to grab for them. Beau started heading for the gate.
“There, see. We’re leaving.”
The other three riders in the arena had gone quiet, eyes wide. They seemed to know what was going on, following Colby’s instructions while Bryan ranted and raved the whole way.
Beau stopped at the gate.
“See. Even the horse wants out. Let me out of here,” he told Derrick.
“Not until the hour’s up,” Colby said. “If you don’t want to sit there like a bump on a log, I suggest you make that horse turn and follow the other riders around. I know from your file that you know how to ride. Quit your bellyaching and move. You’re in the way right there.”
Beneath the rectangular patches of sunlight beaming down from the roof, Jayden did her best to ignore Bryan’s frustrated grunts. Derrick had stopped repairing the gate and stood watching. Bryan jerked the reins again, Beau doing the same thing as before, but Bryan was ready for him, and this time Bryan took the end of the reins and slapped the horse.
Beau took off at a trot. Jayden ran toward the pair, but Bryan’s “Hey” and then “Whoa” did the trick. Beau walked again. She stopped.
“That was great,” said one of the other vets, a blond twentysomething named Seth. “I want to try to trot.”
“Does everyone want to do that?” Colby asked the group.
“I didn’t do it on purpose.”
But everyone ignored Bryan, and after a chorus of “Let’s go” and “Yes” and “I’m game,” the volunteers all took up the slack in their lead ropes and pulled the horses forward. Seth started to laugh; one of the other veterans cried out in surprise before he, too, started to laugh.
Beau began to trot.
“Whoa. Whoa,” Bryan cried.
The horse didn’t listen. He was used to following along behind his pals, and Bryan was too busy clutching the saddle horn to pull back. When he made a full lap around the arena, he tugged the reins to the right and headed for the opposite end. Jayden glanced at Colby. They both watched him go. They pretended not to, of course, but they both saw Bryan tug the reins to the left, Beau heading off the rail, toward the middle, Bryan moving the reins to the right next. All the while he kept on trotting.
“Okay, everyone, stop and then change directions.”
Jayden helped direct traffic, so to speak, as horses and riders turned around. They resumed their exercises, Bryan now at the opposite end, walking, but Jayden noticed he turned around, too. It was like watching someone drive a vehicle. Left. Right. Walk. Trot. Turn around. Bryan directed the horse, and she could tell he grew more and more comfortable with each passing minute. They let him go and, when the hour was up, left the arena gate open so he could let himself out.
Bryan didn’t leave. He kept working with Beau.
Jayden turned to Colby, and she knew he’d spy the hope in her eyes, but she didn’t dare voice her thoughts out loud for fear Bryan would overhear. They went about the business of getting everyone dismounted.
“Can you and Derrick handle getting the horses and the tack?” Colby asked. “I think I’m going to take him out on a trail. I want him to feel what it’s like to have legs again, even if they’re horse legs.”
“Yes, of course.”
He held her gaze for a moment longer. “You were right to trust your instincts, Jayden.” She saw gratitude in the depths of his eyes, his face softening in a way she’d only ever seen when he kissed her. Had they been anything other than coworkers, he might have touched her then, and she tensed out of hope that he might. But he didn’t, just turned away, and her shoulders lost the battle with anticipation.
She’d wanted him to kiss her. She dropped her gaze to the ground so that nobody could see just how much.
And that was the moment Jayden realized she wanted so much more than friendship from him.
Chapter 15
It’d been a good day. A remarkable day, really, Colby thought.
“Are you up there?”
Except for that. Jayden. The sound of her voice was like a kick to the solar plexus, and even though he wanted, oh, how he wanted, to ignore her, he knew he couldn’t. Today was payday. Time to hand her a paycheck.
“Come on up,” he called back, sliding the envelope with her first two weeks of wages toward the edge of his desk, as far away from him as possible. Hopefully she’d pick it up and leave.
“You know, there are days when I could cheerfully take the elevator.” She entered his office, her words like sunshine and happiness. Or maybe that was just the way she made him feel. “Today kicked my butt even with all of Derrick’s help.”
She didn’t grab the envelope, which sat in obvious contrast to his desk, the white paper very nearly hanging off the edge. Instead she settled herself in the seat opposite him, forcing him to look up and study her as he’d done that first day she’d come to work.
Only two weeks ago? It felt like a lifetime.
“I like Derrick,” she volunteered. “He’s a little older than I expected, but I think that’s because my brothers manage Gillian Ranch and they’re only a few years older than myself, so I guess I just figured he’d be about the same age.”
“He’s a hard worker. That’s all that matters.”
“Yes, of course. I noticed that today.” She smiled. “Is it always going to be this busy?”
He had to swallow to get his vocal cords to work. “For the next few months. And wait until wedding season starts when we’re working around all that and more. You’ll be glad when the winter months arrive. Things will slow down then.”
She tipped her head so that her ponytail fell over a shoulder. “I had no idea it would be this much work.”
That was why he loved it so much. Never had time to think. He’d been able to close himself off to the world. And then she’d arrived and changed everything. Now he sat in his office, very nearly in pain, he ached for her so badly, and it was all he could do to keep his gaze from sliding over her face. If he started studying the gentle curve of her jaw, or admiring how the light turned her eyes the color of first-place ribbons, or how her lips looked as if she’d recently licked them, he knew she’d see some of what he thought on his face. His leg began to quiver, he had tensed up so much.
“There’s your check.” He turned away, pretending to focus on the laptop to his left. “You should get your direct-deposit form back to me.”
Because sitting in a closed space with her was hell. He could smell her. Cherry blossoms on a spring day. She tasted as sweet as the fruit, too, and the memory of her straddling him, of the way her warmth had cradled him and
heated him and made him want to...
“See you tomorrow.”
He couldn’t have been more overt in his dismissal of her, but she didn’t take the hint. He hoped he hid his sigh of impatience, because he didn’t want her to know what she did to him. So he steeled himself, lifted his gaze to meet her eyes.
“Was there something else?” he asked.
Her eyes were so big. It looked like he could dive into them.
“I, ah...”
He saw her chest rise and fall. She wore a white long-sleeved T-shirt, and his imagination went crazy when he thought about what might be beneath the pale fabric.
“I just wanted to say good job with Bryan today.” She slowly scooped the check off his desk. “It was genius to take him on a trail ride. He seemed like a different person afterward.”
For the love of all that’s holy. Stop the small talk and leave.
“You did good, too.” He had to give her that. If she hadn’t come up with the idea of turning Bryan loose and letting him throw a fit and thereby forcing him to work with Beau, who knew if they ever would have gotten through to the man. And then later, when they’d gotten back from the trail ride, the man had actually thanked him.
“I—” he had to cough to get his voice to work right “—I appreciate you working through your lunch.”
“My pleasure.”
His hands had started to shake. He wanted to open up an email, a document, a file, anything to keep them busy.
“Colby, about what you told Bryan—”
“No.” The word was the verbal equivalent of pistol fire. “No. We do not need to talk about that.”
Ever.
The word was the silent punctuation at the end of a sentence. She stared at him, and something in her eyes changed. Her brows lifted ever so slightly, and he knew she’d finally put two and two together, that she realized he held on to control by the thinnest of threads.