Voices in the kitchen meant Lexie was finished in his bathroom.
He walked inside, cleaned up, sprayed fresh cologne and changed into jeans and a button-up shirt. He could even manage the buttons. But his time with his pretty therapist was more than half over. And that made him sad.
But he had no business thinking about dating her. He couldn’t sentence her or anyone else to the degenerative disease that had killed Dad.
He splashed water on his face and headed for the kitchen.
While Mom added spices to something bubbling on the stove, Lexie set the table. Her red top and jeans seemed out of place, since he was used to seeing her dressed in scrubs. But no matter what she wore, she was a knockout.
“Can I do anything to help?” he offered, as the doorbell rang. “That’ll be Ted. I’ll get it.” He strolled to the foyer and opened the door.
Ted came in carrying Charlee, with Cooper holding his hand. Carly was still in the car.
“We found Grandpa.” Charlee giggled.
“I see that.” Charlee had never known her real Grandpa. Clint stepped aside so they could enter.
“They asked if they could call me that once we announced the engagement. Hope you’re okay with it.”
“It’s fine.” But the words tasted bitter.
“Mommy got a call from work, but she’s coming in a minute,” Cooper reported.
“Okay, Monkey. Let me set you down so I can go help your Grandma.”
Monkey. Charlee climbing his leg. Like a monkey. “Did I give her that nickname?”
“You said she should be in a zoo.” Cooper snickered.
“I remember.” Clint tried to come up with more details. Nothing.
“That’s wonderful.” Ted clapped him on the back. “See, it’s coming to you. Slowly, but surely.”
He almost got teary. Not only had he remembered coming up with the nickname, he’d remembered Charlee. It was definitely a slow process and he could only hope on the surely part.
The door whooshed open and Carly scurried inside. “Sorry about that. I had to talk the new loan clerk at work through a computer program.”
“Everything’s ready,” Mom called from the kitchen.
“I timed that just right, didn’t I?” Carly grabbed Charlee and steered her toward the kitchen. “Come on, Cooper.” Ted and Clint followed.
“Look what the stray cat dragged in,” Clint quipped as he entered the kitchen.
Ted roared with laughter.
“Y’all sit.” Mom rolled her eyes with a good-natured grin.
He genuinely liked Ted and appreciated his sense of humor, and the man was good to Mom. The only thing was—he just wasn’t Dad.
Everyone stood around the table. With six chairs and one holding Charlee’s booster seat, someone would have to sit in Dad’s chair.
“Why don’t you sit at the head of the table, Clint?” Mom gestured him there.
He didn’t feel worthy, but he didn’t want Ted sitting there. With a sense of reverence, he sank into the chair with Lexie to his right, as everyone else claimed their seats.
Mom ladled heaping mounds of chicken and dumplings into each bowl. “This is one of Clint’s favorite meals. And Ted’s, as well. Y’all actually have a lot in common.”
“Mainly, that we both love you,” Clint summed up. “And about that, I want to officially give your relationship my blessing.”
Mom clasped a hand to her heart and turned glossy eyes on him. “Thank you, son. You have no idea how much that means to me.”
“I’m sure there aren’t a lot of men who have acquired the approval of their sweetheart’s son twice.” Clint chuckled. “Thanks for your patience, Ted.”
“I’m right honored.” Ted’s jaw developed a tick; the man was obviously keeping a tight rein on his emotions.
A hand touched his under the table. Lexie? He turned to face her and she gave him an approving smile. Her fingers twined with his and she squeezed his hand. He could get used to that. But she was only trying to support him. If only she could be his lifetime support.
* * *
The calf was nursing. It was so cute it almost made Lexie teary-eyed. Yes, the calf would grow into a huge creature she’d be afraid of someday, but right now it was adorable.
“Thanks for putting therapy off a bit for this ride. I needed it.” Clint stared at a row of huge round hay bales lining the fence.
“You deserved a reward after dinner last night. You made two people very happy.”
“Mom deserves happiness. I couldn’t stand in the way of it.” He pointed toward the bales. “I used to climb up there and watch the herd for hours. There’s something peaceful, relaxing about it.”
Morning dew glistened on the bales still in the shade. But the heat of the sun had dried the ones farther from the fence row.
“Let’s ride over there.”
“Why?” he queried.
“Because I think you can climb up there.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Come on.” She gave a slight snap of reins, then aimed her horse toward the bales. “I’ll help you.”
“You got a ladder hidden on your horse?”
“Oh, stop! You don’t need a ladder.”
“Whatever you say,” he muttered.
They reached the bales and she dismounted, hovered nearby as he did. Slightly wobbly, but remarkable compared to where he’d been a few weeks ago.
A patch of cactus caught her attention. The green pads shaped like thick Ping-Pong paddles lined with tufts of needles.
“Watch for prickly pears. They can trip you up and you don’t want to fall and land on one.” She held on to his arm as they slowly walked over to the bales. “Lean on me if you need to. You’re really doing amazing, Clint.”
“I don’t feel amazing.”
“A few weeks ago, you couldn’t feed yourself. Or get on the balance ball by yourself.”
He blew out a breath. “I know, but all of that seems insignificant when it comes to daily life.”
“You’ll get your life back. All of it.”
“I hope so. This invalid thing is getting old,” he harrumphed. “I know I should be thankful. There are people who’ve suffered way more than I have and are way worse off than me.”
“Illness or physical challenges are always hardest on the self-sufficient male.” They stopped in front of the smallest round bale. “Okay, up we go.”
She dug the toe of her boot into the end of the bale, jumped with her other foot, grabbed the twine holding the bale together and pulled herself up. Then plopped down and turned to face him. Straddling the bale, she held her hand out to him.
“I’ll look like a whale thrashing about.”
“There’s no way to climb a hay bale gracefully. Nobody’s watching but me and I’m not concerned with what you look like.” She shouldn’t be, anyway. If only he weren’t so handsome. “I just don’t want you to fall.”
He sank the toe of his boot into the bale and found a good foothold.
“Give me your hand.”
He grabbed on to her and made his way up, with very little bobbling.
“I knew you could do it!”
“Did I look like a whale?” he asked.
“Not at all.” She held his hands and helped him stand.
He wobbled, but she wrapped her arms around his waist, managing to steady him. With her face in his chest, his arms around her shoulders, her heart clamored. She should take a step back. But oh, how she didn’t want to. He was warm and so terribly strong and male.
She forced her feet back, letting go of him. “You okay?”
When he swayed again, she grabbed his hands. He found his balance, but she didn’t let go.
“I used to jump from bale to bale at Larae’s ranch, with her and Stacia when we wer
e kids. There’d be a couple of feet between them sometimes.” She shook her head. “The things we used to do as kids. Gives me the shudders now. Like jumping out of the barn loft. Everything was bigger when I was a kid, but it didn’t seem so high up then. It’s a wonder we never broke a leg. Or our necks.”
“Dad and I used to come out here. Watch the herd and then the sunset.” His gaze left hers, went to the sky. “Until he got to where he couldn’t climb the bales. It was hard on him. Hard for me to watch. What if I end up like him?”
“You’re progressing in the opposite direction. You just got to where you can climb the bales. It’ll only get better from here.”
“I hope so.” His words came out thick. “But right now, I can’t even take care of my herd or my business.”
“I know it’s frustrating. But you’ll get there. You remind me of him.”
His gaze met hers again. “My hands are meeting with a beefalo breeder today.”
“Selling off stock, investing in more. I’m guessing you can’t find beefalo at the weekly sale barn.”
“No, but how do you know about the sale barn?”
“My dad’s been a ranch foreman my entire life. I’ve even gone with him to the sale barn,” she confided. “He used to let me pick cows to buy, said I was better at it than him. They don’t scare me at all when they’re in nice pens and stock trailers.”
“I grew up going with Dad and he used to let me pick stock. Normally, I’d be in the big middle of it, making all the decisions alone now. But I don’t trust my judgment right now. This time, my ranch hands went in my place. I don’t even know their names.”
“You’ll get there.”
“Thank you for getting me this far. For listening to me whine.”
“No problem.” She smiled. “You’re far from the whiniest I’ve had.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth.
Everything in her wanted to lean in. But she couldn’t. She was certain he’d recover fully physically. But mentally, was he capable of really knowing if he wanted to kiss her? Or was it the classic therapist-patient scenario where emotions got tangled with gratitude? And then there was the rodeo thing...
She took a step back. “We better get you home so we don’t wear you out.” She sat down on the bale, scooted her way down the side of it and jumped. “Besides, that jigsaw puzzle’s not gonna do itself.”
“I was hoping that puzzle would go away,” he grumbled.
“Tell you what, if you work on the puzzle, we’ll work on the treadmill this afternoon.”
He quirked a brow. “Resorting to bribery, are we?”
“And you get to go to the rodeo this weekend.”
“You win.” He waved her back. “I doubt my dismount will be pretty. You can’t stand there and take the chance of me creaming you.”
“Don’t try to jump. It’s not far and there’s a cushion of loose hay here. Just slide down the side and don’t worry about landing on your feet so much.”
“Sink or swim.” He slid down and somehow landed on his feet.
As he started to totter, she grabbed his hands and steadied him.
“You’ve got hay in your hair.” He reached behind her, grazing her ear with his finger.
Which sent a shiver coursing through her. “Let’s get you on your horse.” She turned away, then stood near as he mounted. A little steadier than when they’d headed out.
No more riding horses, climbing hay bales or spending time alone away from the house with Clint.
Thank goodness this job was nearing the end. She honestly wasn’t sure how much longer she could resist him.
* * *
“I can’t believe this place is in Medina.” Clint scanned the lobby of Collins Family Rodeo. It looked like something that should be in Austin.
“Larae used to work in marketing at the rodeo in Fort Worth. She’s put her heart and soul into this. It’s dedicated to the memory of her mom, Laura Collins, who was killed by a drunk driver. That’s why there’s no alcohol served. She wanted it to have a family atmosphere and assure everyone made it home safely afterward.”
“Lexie Parker, why didn’t you tell me you were coming tonight?” In the concession stand, Lexie’s mom propped her hands on her hips.
“Hey, Mama, I thought I’d surprise you.”
Lexie’s mom exited the stand and rushed over to hug her daughter. She was still tall and slender, with salt-and-pepper hair in a trendy face-framing style. He detected a hint of Hispanic in her features, so like Lexie’s.
“Good to see you, Mrs. Parker.” He offered his hand.
“You too, Clint.” Her gaze narrowed as she shook his hand. “How many times do I have to tell you it’s Stella?”
“Hey, Aunt Lexie.” A little girl waved from the concession stand window. “Y’all want anything to eat?”
“It’s on the house.” A man tipped his hat at them from the booth.
“This is my friend Larae’s husband, Rance, and their little girl, Jayda.” Lexie introduced them to Clint.
“He knows, silly.” Jayda giggled. “Clint goes to our church.”
But Clint didn’t know. Neither of them looked familiar.
“Good to see you,” Rance said with a smile. “What can we get for you?”
Clint scanned the menu. “A cheeseburger with mayo, pickle, lettuce and a sweet tea sounds good. But I insist on paying.”
“We’ll see. What about you, Lexie?”
“I’ll have the same. But I won’t come here again if you don’t let me pay.”
They liked their hamburgers the same way and refused freebies. Maybe they had other things in common, too.
“Fair enough. Larae will be tickled you’re here, so I reckon I better take your money.”
“I better get to cooking.” Stella hurried back inside the concession stand.
Clint managed to dig his wallet out quicker than Lexie. Jayda took his money, then minutes later, Rance handed out two tickets, a bag and a drink holder.
“I’ll get it.” Lexie reached for both.
But he grabbed the bag. “I can manage this at least.”
“Okay.”
A guy at the turnstile tore their tickets in half, handed back the stub and let Lexie through, then opened a wide gate for Clint so his walker would fit.
A concrete barrier wall surrounded the arena with chairs lining the railing along the edge and stands climbing all four walls. The announcer’s booth was at the end with the gate and pens, with box seats up high around the perimeter and sponsor signs circling the building.
“I never imagined something like this could be in Medina,” Clint said.
“Larae and Rance worked really hard on it and I think it’s doing really well.”
“So how long have they been married?”
“It’ll be a year this summer,” she replied. Then quickly added, “Yes, Jayda is theirs. It’s a long story.”
“I didn’t know your mom worked the concession stand.”
“She’s been the cook here at Larae’s ranch my whole life and she used to work the concession stand at the rodeo in Bandera while Daddy announced there when I was growing up.” Lexie waved to the booth.
A familiar gray-haired man waved back. Lexie’s Dad.
“So when Larae started this rodeo, Mama did the cooking and Daddy did the announcing to help out. But she loves to cook and he loves to announce, so they kept doing it. There is another cook and announcer now, so Mama and Daddy only work one night each weekend now.”
Turning toward her, he mused, “You have an interesting family.” Clint closed his eyes and listened to the crowd chatter, the bulls ramming their pens. He smelled the dirt from the arena floor, the leather of chaps and saddles. The rodeo always made him feel closer to Dad. Maybe that was why he’d kept coming back. And he still could, as a spectator
.
“You okay?” Lexie frowned at him.
“Fine. I grew up traveling the circuit. Being at the rodeo is like home to me.”
She bit her lip, the light dimming from her eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Her dad approached from her right.
“I wanted to surprise you.” Lexie hugged him.
“Good to see you out and stirring around.” The older gentleman offered his hand.
“Nice to see you, too.” Clint clasped it. “Most of my progress is thanks to your daughter.”
“She’s a gem all right. Eat your food. I gotta get back up there. Just wanted to give my girl a squeeze.”
“See you later, Daddy.” Lexie gave him another hug and he sauntered away. “Maybe I should come when they’re working part of the time.”
“Why don’t you?” The very thing he loved, she wasn’t into. He needed to put that on his list of why they shouldn’t be together.
“It’s never been my thing.” But she fit right in with her sparkly button-up shirt and jeans with flashy back pockets. The prettiest cowgirl in the place.
“Why, Clint Rawlins, it’s so good to see you out and about.” A woman with silver hair smiled from ear to ear at him.
“Thanks, Cora, it’s good to see you, too.”
“It’s nice to see you as well, Lexie. I was worried since Clint hasn’t been to church and his mom said he got hurt.”
“I’m mending,” he reassured her.
“Maybe we’ll see you there soon.”
“I’m planning on it.” Clint had missed church, even with his radio preacher that he liked to listen to. He turned to Lexie as Cora went on her way. “I know her. That was Cora Wilkins. She’s lived in Medina forever and works at the barbecue place in town.”
“For as long as I can remember.”
Patriotic music started up and a woman astride a white horse shot into the arena, wearing a spangly outfit and carrying a flag. A second spotlight illuminated a male singer standing in the middle of the arena, while the woman rounded the perimeter.
“That’s Larae,” Lexie told him. “She can’t seem to keep a rodeo queen employed, so she ends up opening most nights.”
The Cowboy's Missing Memory Page 13