by Max Monroe
His words take me by surprise, but I still feel compelled to ask once more. “Okay, but why didn’t you let me do it, then?”
“Because that’s the kind of situation someone should choose for themselves,” he responds. “Not get forced into. If you’re still geared up to do it when you’ve been here a while, you let me know, and we’ll head right back to Barn Six to collect as much specimen as you can handle.”
I open my mouth to respond, but the radio on the dashboard screeches, and a tiny, adorable voice comes through. “Josephine to Rhett. Josephine to Rhett.”
He smirks and grabs the receiver. “Rhett to Josephine. What do you need, honey?”
“Josephine would like to request to be picked up at Jenny Jameson’s house so she can help feed the chickens.”
Rhett’s eyes meet mine. “Looks like we’re gonna have to make a pit stop on the way to the lodge.”
I nod. “More than happy to oblige.”
Pretty sure I’d do just about anything for that adorable kid of his. She’s like the real-life version of a walking, talking sunshine-unicorn-rainbow. I mean, she’s not even in this truck with us and just her voice had the power to stop us mid-bicker.
“Okay, Joe,” Rhett responds into the radio. “We’re just leaving Barn Six and getting ready to head to the lodge, but we’ll swing by and get ya first.”
“What is your ETA, Rhett?” she responds, and I can’t not grin.
“She’s incredibly professional on the radio,” I comment and Rhett chuckles.
“Tell me about it. Some days, I swear, she’s five going on thirty,” he jokes and then proceeds to answer her. “ETA is fifteen minutes.”
“Copy that, Rhett,” Joey answers. “Josephine out.”
The responding smile on Rhett’s lips makes my heart do weird things inside my chest.
Which is completely stupid.
This man might be sinfully good-looking and the love and adoration he shows for his daughter could pull at any woman’s heartstrings, but ninety-nine percent of the time that I’ve been here, he’s either been avoiding me or been a big fat jerk.
Bottom line, Rhett Jameson might look like God’s gift to women, but it doesn’t take a genius to understand he’s nothing but certified trouble.
The last thing I’m going to do is let myself feel a certain way about a broody cowboy who walks around with an eternal chip on his shoulder.
No fucking thank you.
So, I do exactly what I should do in this situation. Focus back on the whole reason I’m here—Rhett Jameson’s busted-up leg.
I turn around in my seat, snag another disposable ice pack from my bag and activate it with a pop before placing it across his knee without asking for permission.
“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me,” he responds on a groan.
“If you haven’t figured it out yet, it’s my responsibility to make sure that knee of yours gets healthy again, and I take all of my responsibilities seriously. So, no, to answer your question, I’m not kidding,” I answer and start the engine. “Now, remind me how to get to your parents’ house from here.”
He huffs out an exasperated breath.
But also, he keeps the ice on his knee and starts to give me directions.
Hallelujah.
A teeny tiny win at best, but a fucking win, nonetheless.
Just think, only about one million of those tiny wins to go and Rhett Jameson’s leg might actually be fully rehabbed before you head back in August.
Holy hell, it’s going to be a long summer.
June 25th, Friday
Leah
I’m finding that Fridays at Shaw Springs are busy, especially when there is a new group of guests arriving to stay for the weekend.
This morning, I juggled forcing medical care on Rhett while following him all over God’s creation on his numerous tasks to ensure ranch readiness. Cabins were checked to make sure they were clean and set up for new guests. Horses in the stalls were double-checked for cleaning, brushing, and other types of prepping for fun-filled days of taking tourists horseback riding.
Basically, we’ve been going nonstop since seven this morning, and I’m just thankful that I’ve managed to get him to stretch his knee, keep his brace on, and administer ice and ibuprofen during the few moments of downtime. Or, you know, when I stepped up to do the various chores while he chilled out—bitching the whole time—for a damn minute to rest his leg.
It’s only been four days since I managed to track him down and actually start doing a semblance of my job, and so far, our relationship mostly just revolves around me nagging him to let me take care of his injured leg and him stubbornly making that difficult.
Not to mention, we bicker. A lot.
Honestly, right now is about the only moment we haven’t been squabbling with each other, and that’s only because he’s on the opposite side of the room, getting ready to greet the newcomers.
The main area of the lodge is filled with faces I’ve never seen before. They stand around in small groups, chattering while Rhett slowly makes his way toward the front of the room. Joey sticks right by his side, her dainty fingers tucked into the front pocket of her dad’s jeans.
Once Rhett reaches the massive fireplace that frames the room, he turns around and faces the new guests. “Good afternoon, everyone,” he greets, his voice loud enough to hush the small crowd and grab their attention.
The ages of the group range from young to old—young couples, families with small children, families with less-than-enthused teenagers, and retirees—and, besides the teens, they all appear incredibly excited to start their vacation at a real-life dude ranch, their focus completely fixated on the cowboy in the front.
And I don’t miss the way the female gazes in the crowd look at Rhett.
Their eyes are big and wide, and their lips are slightly parted. It’s almost as if they can’t believe this male specimen in the boots and hat standing before them is even real.
I wish I could say they’re exaggerating, but I’d be lying.
The first time I laid eyes on him from his front porch, the man didn’t have a shirt on, and I felt like I’d died and gone to hot cowboy heaven.
Basically, if you mixed a young Clint Eastwood with his son Scott and seasoned it with a little Legends of the Fall Brad Pitt, you’d have a pretty good idea of what it’s like seeing Rhett Jameson for the first time.
Of course, once he opens his sarcastic, stubborn, grumpy fucking mouth, it changes things dramatically, but I have a feeling that’s only a me thing. Surely he doesn’t treat the guests of Shaw Springs Ranch the same way he treats me.
Only doctors trying to take care of his knee injury receive that kind of special treatment.
“Let me be the first to welcome you to Shaw Springs Ranch,” Rhett continues, and, to my surprise, his smile actually reaches his eyes. “I’m Rhett, and this lady right here is my daughter, Josephine.”
Joey offers a wave. “Hi, y’all.”
Rhett glances down at her proudly before lifting his gaze to the crowd again. “Shaw Springs was started back in the 1800s by my great-great-grandfather, Samuel Jameson, as a working cattle ranch. And my Josephine is actually the first member of the sixth generation to live here. Though, we’ve certainly changed a little since back then,” he says, pausing briefly to flash a knowing smirk. “But I think you’ll come to find during your stay here, we’re prone to makin’ everyone feel like family. It’s actually our number one goal. So, if you don’t feel like family by the time you leave here, take it up with Tex in the complaint department. And just so you know, Tex is my dad, and he’s been known to be a real hard-ass.”
The crowd laughs, taking Rhett’s comment about his father as a mere teasing jab, but it’s almost comically sad how much he’s probably not joking.
“For the rest of the evening, I invite you to get settled in your rooms, all assigned on the cutesy little cards there on the dining table,” Rhett continues with a gesture, making everyon
e in the crowd glance to the side where the huge lodge kitchen is located. “Dinner’ll be served around seven, and then tomorrow morning, we’ll see you bright and early to work on getting everyone all set with horses that match your skill level for the tour.”
“Woo-hoo!” one exuberant twentysomething man in the crowd hollers, but an older woman on the opposite side of the room with a concerned look on her face raises her hand.
Rhett nods toward her. “You have a question, ma’am?”
“Yes,” she responds, a slight nervous lilt to her voice. “I…uh…I don’t have that much experience with riding horses. Is that going to be a problem?”
“Not at all.” Rhett shakes his head. “Don’t worry. We’ve got ’em all, rangin’ from peppy to practically lifeless, and we’ll make sure we pair you with the right one. Normally, I’d be helpin’ y’all, but as you can see,” he says and grabs his braced leg with two hands. “I’m recovering from a bit of an injury. But don’t worry, you’ll be in good hands with Rodney, one of our ranch hands and all-around horse expert.”
“So, what you’re saying is that we’ll be safe out there, even if we have no experience?” the woman probes further, and Rhett nods.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Besides making you feel like family, it’s our top priority to ensure your safety, and Rodney will do just that tomorrow while you’re horseback ridin’. I promise you have nothin’ to worry about besides havin’ fun, all right?”
His words appease the woman’s nerves, and she responds with a nod of a head and a relieved, “Sounds great.”
“But, speaking of safety,” he announces, and I don’t miss the way his eyes flit across the room to mine for a brief second. “We have our very own doctor on staff here for the next few months, so if you need any medical assistance, medical advice, have any medical questions this weekend, please don’t hesitate to direct them to Dr. Leah Levee. She loves to help. Loves to offer medical advice. And it won’t cost ya a dime. It’s all on the house while you’re here.”
Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
“Dr. Levee, mind raising your hand in the air so the crowd can see ya?” Rhett requests, and the bastard has the audacity to smile at me as everyone looks around the room to figure out who this loves-to-give-free-medical-advice doctor is.
I really want to flip him the bird.
But, of course, I simply lift my hand in the air and force a smile to my lips.
“Nice to meet you, everyone,” I say. “I’m Leah.”
“Hi, Leah!” the older woman who just asked the horseback-riding question greets a smidge too enthusiastically.
Oh boy, I have a feeling I’m going to be seeing a lot more of her over the next few days.
It’s not that I mind helping people out. I am a doctor, and I took an oath to do just that.
But it’s more the fact that finding ways to treat Rhett Jameson’s knee injury is a full-time job in and of itself. I can’t imagine tossing the task of giving out medical advice to a group of thirty-plus strangers into the mix.
I’m more than aware this stunt of his is all in the name of distraction and keeping me from being on his ass about taking care of his leg.
Crafty, conniving bastard.
“Now,” Rhett says, grabbing the attention of the crowd again. “I’ll hang around for a bit if y’all have any questions, but other than that, please make yourselves at home.”
I watch as the group disperses, most heading toward the long dining table near the lodge kitchen to grab their room assignments, and to my utter enjoyment, Joey comes running toward me with a big grin on her face.
It’s certainly a welcome distraction from strangling her father.
“Leah! Leah!” she exclaims as she closes the distance between us. “Are you gonna go ridin’ tomorrow?”
I tilt my head to the side. “Horseback riding?”
“Yeah. With all the new guests,” she answers, nodding so fast it makes her blond pigtails bounce up and down.
“Oh, honey, I’ve never been horseback riding before,” I admit honestly.
“That’s okay! Rodney will be there, and he’s one of the best! Almost as good at teaching ridin’ as my daddy! And he’s so nice and funny! You’ll love him!”
Her exuberance makes me grin. “Well, I don’t know. I think I might be busy helping your daddy out tomorrow.” More like, chasing him down in between all the fucking free medical advice I’m probably going to have to give out this week.
“Aw, shucks,” she responds, and her lips turn down into a pout. “It’s a shame you don’t have a nurse or somethin’ to help ya out with my daddy’s leg.”
“A nurse?” I question, more than a little curious to understand what she means.
“Yeah,” she answers. “My granny Jenny loves this TV show with lots of doctors, and when I watch it with her, I always see the nurses helpin’ the doctors out. And if you had a nurse here, then the nurse could help my daddy while you went ridin’ with me tomorrow.”
“Oh, I see.” I smile down at her, but then, as I’m staring into her big blue eyes, I get an idea. A brilliant, payback-is-a-bitch of an idea. “Wait…you know what, Joey? I don’t know about tomorrow, but I think I have a plan that might make it possible to go riding with you sometime soon.”
She claps her hands together. “Really?”
“Uh-huh,” I respond and hold out my hand for her to take. “But we have to keep it a secret. Are you good at keeping secrets, Joey?”
“Oh yeah!” She places her tiny hand in mine, and her cute blue eyes go wide with seriousness. “I’m the best at keepin’ secrets!”
“Well, follow me, sweetie. We need to head to Tex’s office real quick to grab a pen and paper to write everything down.”
Since I arrived here, I’ve been struggling with how to get that stubborn cowboy to stick to my medical treatment plan, and unless I want to follow him everywhere, at all hours of the day and night, there are certain things I simply can’t get him to do.
Until now, that is.
Oh, hell yes.
Rhett Jameson might think he’s real clever, but little does he know, I can be real fucking clever, too.
I’ll keep doing my job. I’ll keep on his ass. But it’s safe to say, I’ve also found a way to get some help during the evening and nighttime hours when it’s impossible for me to be there.
Rhett
Damn, what a long day.
Fridays on the ranch are always busy, but today felt extra insane because of a certain doctor who appears content to be up my damn ass.
I slide my boots off my feet and ease myself to the couch. On the way down, a sharp pain hits my knee and I grimace, but once I’m finally sitting, it eases.
And as soon as I loosen the stiff brace around my leg, I breathe a huge sigh of relief.
Fucking finally.
I swear, the day I don’t need this fucking brace is the day I start a big-ass bonfire in my backyard and watch the damn thing go up in flames.
Honestly, if my fucking daddy hadn’t hired a doctor to stalk me all over the ranch, I’d probably try to go a few days without the fucking thing, but Lord Almighty, my ears couldn’t handle the verbal backlash I’d get from Dr. Leah Levee if I did.
Frankly, when she dropped Joey and me off at my house a little while ago, I expected that crazy doctor to try to follow me inside and glue one of her goddamn ice packs to my knee.
But she didn’t.
To my utter surprise, she didn’t bitch at me for telling the ranch guests she’s their on-call doctor during their stay. She didn’t even try to give me medical advice or demand I follow some kind of nightly fucking routine that we both knew I’d ignore.
She didn’t do anything besides offer a simple goodbye before heading back to her cabin for the evening.
I guess I should probably just be grateful that tonight equals a few hours of not having her in my ear, telling me all the shit she thinks I should be doing.
“Daddy!
What’re ya doin’?” Joey shouts, popping out of the hallway and startling me out of my thoughts.
I sigh and then, I smile. “Joe, unless you wanna give your daddy a heart attack at the age of thirty-six, use your inside voice, please. It’s just me and you in this house, baby. No need for yellin’.”
“Sorry, but you shouldn’t have your leg like that.”
“What?”
She huffs and puffs and puts a hand to her hip. “Your leg shouldn’t be like that.”
“Then how should it be?”
She rolls her big blue eyes and stomps her tiny cowgirl boots over to the other side of the couch. Once she has a pillow in her hand, she moves toward me and sets the pillow down on the coffee table. “Lift your leg, Daddy,” she instructs, and in the name of keeping the damn peace, I listen. After four long-ass days with Dr. Leah Levee, I certainly don’t need another woman riding my ass about this fucking injury.
Slowly, and with two hands carefully bracing my knee, I lift my leg up and rest it on the pillow Joey is keeping steady.
“Better?”
“Uh-huh,” she says, and then she’s off again on her boots, the sounds of them click-clacking across the hardwood floor as she makes her way into the kitchen.
Before I know it, those boots are heading my way again, only this time, a frozen bag of mixed veggies and a pill bottle are in tow.
“What’re ya doin’, Joe?”
“You need to ice your knee, Daddy,” she responds and sets the bag carefully on my knee before I can stop her. “And you need to take the medicine that your doctor told ya to take.”
“Baby, I’ve been icin’ this knee all day. And I already took medicine earlier.”
“That’s real good, Daddy, but you need to ice it more, and you need to take your medicine again.”
“Says who?”
“Says me,” she answers, and that sassy hand of hers is on her hip again.
I furrow my brow. “And who put you up to this?”
“Dr. Namath, remember?” She rolls her eyes. “He told us all this stuff after your surgery.”