The Rancher & Heart of Stone

by Diana Palmer

  Cort dropped into the chair beside Maddie’s bed with a sigh. “I saw your doctor outside, doing rounds. He thinks you’re progressing nicely.”

  She smiled. “Yes, he told me so. He said I might be able to go home in a few days. I’ll still have to have physical therapy, though.”

  “Odalie and I will take turns bringing you here for it,” he said, answering one of her fears that her car wouldn’t stand up to the demands of daily trips, much less her gas budget.

  “But, Cort,” she protested automatically.

  He held up a hand. “It won’t do any good,” he assured her.

  She sighed. “Okay. Thanks, then.” She studied his worn face. “Odalie’s been amazing, hasn’t she?”

  He laughed. “Oh, I could think of better words. She really shocked me. I wouldn’t have believed her capable of it.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m very proud of her,” he said, smiling wistfully. He was thinking what a blessing it was that Odalie hadn’t shown that side of herself to him when he thought he was in love with her. Because with hindsight, he realized that it was only an infatuation. He’d had a crush on Odalie that he’d mistaken for true love.

  Maddie couldn’t hear his thoughts. She saw that wistful smile and thought he was seeing Odalie as he’d always hoped she could be, and that he was more in love with her than ever before.

  “So am I,” she replied.

  He noted the odd look in her eyes and started to question it when his mother came in with Heather Everett. Both women had been visiting every day. This time they had something with them. It was a beautiful arrangement of orchids.

  “We worked on it together,” Heather said, smiling. She was Odalie, aged, still beautiful with blue eyes and platinum blond hair. A knockout, like dark-eyed, dark-haired Shelby Brannt, even with a sprinkle of gray hairs.

  “Yes, and we’re not florists, but we wanted to do something personal,” Shelby added.

  Heather put it on the far table, by the window, where it caught the light and looked exotic and lush.

  “It’s so beautiful! Thank you both,” Maddie enthused.

  “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Shelby asked, hovering.

  “The pain is easing, and I have feeling in my legs,” she said, the excitement in her gray eyes. “The doctor thinks I’ll walk again.”

  “That’s wonderful news,” Shelby said heavily. “We’ve been so worried.”

  “All of us,” Heather agreed. She smiled. “It’s worse for us, because Odalie was driving.”

  “Odalie has been my rock in a storm,” Maddie said gently. “She hasn’t left me, except to freshen up, since they brought me in here. I honestly don’t know how I would have made it without her. Or without Cort,” she added, smiling at him. “They’ve stopped me from brooding, cheered me up, cheered me on...they’ve been wonderful.”

  Shelby hugged her tall son. “Well, of course, I think so.” She laughed. “Still, it’s been hard on all three families,” she added quietly. “It could have been even more of a tragedy if—”

  “I’m going to be fine,” Maddie interrupted her.

  “Yes, she is,” Cort agreed. He smiled at Maddie. His dark eyes were like velvet. There was an expression in them that she’d never noticed before. Affection. Real affection.

  She smiled back, shyly, and averted her eyes.

  “Odalie wants you to talk to one of our friends, who has an art gallery in Dallas,” Heather said. “She thinks your talent is quite incredible.”

  “It’s not, but she’s nice to say so...” Maddie began.

  “They’re her kids,” Cort explained to the women, and Maddie’s eyes widened. “Don’t deny it, you told me so,” he added, making a face at her. “She puts so much of herself into them that she can’t bear to think of selling one.”

  “Well, I know it sounds odd, but it’s like that with me and the songs I compose,” Heather confessed, and flushed a little when they stared at her. “I really do put my whole heart into them. And I hesitate to share that with other people.”

  “Desperado owes you a lot for those wonderful songs.” Shelby chuckled. “And not just money. They’ve made an international reputation with them.”

  “Thanks,” Heather said. “I don’t know where they come from. It’s a gift. Truly a gift.”

  “Like Odalie’s voice,” Maddie replied. “She really does sing like an angel.”

  Heather smiled. “Thank you. I’ve always thought so. I wanted her to realize her dream, to sing at the Met, at the Italian opera houses.” She looked introspective. “But it doesn’t look like she’s going to do that at all.”

  “Why not?” Shelby asked, curious.

  Heather smiled. “I think she’s hungry for a home of her own and a family. She’s been talking about children lately.”

  “Has she?” Cort asked, amused.

  He didn’t seem to realize that Maddie immediately connected Heather’s statement with Odalie’s changed nature and Cort’s pride in her. She added those facts together and came up with Cort and Odalie getting married.

  It was so depressing that she had to force herself to smile and pretend that she didn’t care.

  “Can you imagine what beautiful children she’ll have?” Maddie asked with a wistful smile.

  “Well, yours aren’t going to be ugly,” Cort retorted. Then he remembered that he’d called Maddie that, during one of their arguments, and his face paled with shame.

  Maddie averted her eyes and tried not to show what she was feeling. “Not like Odalie’s,” she said. “Is she thinking about getting married?” she asked Heather.

  “She says she is,” she replied. “I don’t know if she’s really given it enough thought, though,” she added with sadness in her tone. “Very often, we mistake infatuation for the real thing.”

  “You didn’t,” Shelby teased before anyone could react to Heather’s statement. “You knew you wanted to marry Cole before you were even an adult.”

  Heather saw Maddie’s curious glance. “Cole’s mother married my father,” she explained. “There was some terrible gossip spread, to the effect that we were related by blood. It broke my heart. I gave up on life. And then the truth came out, and I realized that Cole didn’t hate me at all. He’d only been shoving me out of his life because he thought I was totally off-limits, and his pride wouldn’t let him admit how thoroughly he’d accepted the gossip for truth.”

  “You made a good match.” Shelby smiled.

  “So did you, my friend.” Heather laughed. “Your road to the altar was even more precarious than mine.”

  Shelby beamed. “Yes, but it was worth every tear.” She hugged her son. “Look at my consolation prize!”

  * * *

  BUT WHEN THE women left, and Cort walked them out to the parking lot, Maddie was left with her fears and insecurities.

  Odalie wanted to marry and raise a family. She’d seen how mature and caring Cort was, and she wanted to drive him by Maddie’s house because she was jealous of her. She’d wanted Maddie to see her with Cort.

  She could have cried. Once, Odalie’s feelings wouldn’t have mattered. But since she’d been in the hospital, Maddie had learned things about the other woman. She genuinely liked her. She was like the sister Maddie had never had.

  What was she going to do? Cort seemed to like Maddie now, but she’d been hurt and it was his car that had hit her. Certainly he felt guilty. And nobody could deny how much he’d loved Odalie. He’d grieved for weeks after she left for Italy.

  Surely his love for her hadn’t died just because Maddie had been in an accident. He’d told Maddie that she was ugly and that she didn’t appeal to him as a man, long before the wreck. That had been honest; she’d seen it in his dark eyes.

  Now he was trying to make up for what had happened. He was trying to sacrifice himself to Maddie in a vain attempt to atone for her injuries. He was denying himself Odalie out of guilt.

  Maddie closed her eyes. She couldn’t have that.
She wanted him to be happy. In fact, she wanted Odalie to be happy. Cort would be miserable if he forced himself into a relationship with Maddie that he didn’t feel.

  So that wasn’t going to be allowed to happen. Maddie was going to make sure of it.

  CHAPTER NINE

  BY THE END of the second week after the accident, Maddie was back home, with a high-tech wheelchair to get around the house in.

  Odalie and Cort had insisted on buying her one to use while she was recuperating, because she still couldn’t walk, even though the feeling had come back into her legs. She was exhilarated with the doctor’s cautious prognosis that she would probably heal completely after several months.

  But she’d made her friends promise to get her an inexpensive manual wheelchair. Of course, they’d said, smiling.

  Then they walked in with a salesman who asked questions, measured her and asked about her choice of colors. Oh, bright yellow, she’d teased, because she was sure they didn’t make a bright yellow wheelchair. The only ones she’d seen were black and ugly and plain, and they all looked alike. She’d dreaded the thought of having to sit in one.

  A few days later, the wheelchair was delivered. It came from Europe. It was the most advanced wheelchair of its type, fully motorized, able to turn in its own circumference, able to lift the user up to eye level with other people, and all-terrain. Oh, and also, bright yellow in color.

  “This must have cost a fortune!” Maddie almost screamed when she saw it. “I said something inexpensive!”

  Cort gave her a patient smile. “You said inexpensive. This is inexpensive,” he added, glancing at Odalie.

  “Cheap,” the blonde girl nodded. She grinned unrepentantly. “When you get out of it, you can donate it to someone in need.”

  “Oh. Well.” The thought that she would get out of it eventually sustained her. “I can donate it?”

  Odalie nodded. She smiled.

  Cort smiled, too.

  “Barracudas,” she concluded, looking from one to the other. “I can’t get around either one of you!”

  They both grinned.

  She laughed. “Okay. Thanks. Really. Thanks.”

  “You might try it out,” Odalie coaxed.

  “Yes, in the direction of the hen yard,” Cort added.

  She looked from one of them to the other. They had very suspicious expressions. “Okay.”

  She was still learning to drive it, but the controls were straightforward, and it didn’t take long to learn them. The salesman had come out with it, to further explain its operation.

  It had big tires, and it went down steps. That was a revelation. It didn’t even bump very much. She followed Cort and Odalie over the sandy yard to the huge enclosure where her hens lived. It was grassy, despite the tendency of chickens to scratch and eat the grass, with trees on one side. The other contained multiple feeders and hanging waterers. The enormous henhouse had individual nests and cowboys cleaned it out daily. There was almost no odor, and the hens were clean and beautiful.

  “My girls look very happy,” Maddie said, laughing.

  “They have a good reason to be happy.” Cort went into the enclosure, and a minute later, he came back out, carrying a large red rooster with a big comb and immaculate feathers.

  He brought him to Maddie. The rooster looked sort of like Pumpkin, but he was much bigger. He didn’t seem at all bothered to be carried under someone’s arm. He handed the rooster to Maddie.

  She perched him on her jean-clad lap and stared at him. He cocked his head and looked at her and made a sort of purring sound.

  She was aghast. She looked up at Cort wide-eyed.

  “His name’s Percival,” Cort told her with a chuckle. “He has impeccable bloodlines.”

  She looked at the feathery pet again. “I’ve never seen a rooster this tame,” she remarked.

  “That’s from those impeccable bloodlines.” Odalie giggled. “All their roosters are like this. They’re even guaranteed to be tame, or your money back. So he’s sort of returnable. But you won’t need to return him. He’s been here for a week and he hasn’t attacked anybody yet. Considering his age, he’s not likely to do it.”

  “His age?” Maddie prompted.

  “He’s two,” Cort said. “Never attacked anybody on the farm for all that time. The owners’ kids carry the roosters around with them all the time. They’re gentled. But they’re also bred for temperament. They have exceptions from time to time. But Percy’s no exception. He’s just sweet.”

  “Yes, he is.” She hugged the big rooster, careful not to hug him too closely, because chickens have no diaphragm and they can be smothered if their chests are compressed for too long. “Percy, you’re gorgeous!”

  He made that purring sound again. Almost as if he were laughing. She handed him back to Cort. “You’ve got him separate from the girls?”

  He nodded. “If you want biddies, we can put him with them in time for spring chicks. But they know he’s nearby, and so will predators. He likes people. He hates predators. The owner says there’s a fox who’ll never trouble a henhouse again after the drubbing Percy gave him.”

  Maddie laughed with pure joy. “It will be such a relief not to have to carry a limb with me to gather eggs,” she said. The smile faded. “I’ll always miss Pumpkin,” she said softly, “but even I knew that something had to give eventually. He was dangerous. I just didn’t have the heart to do anything about him.”

  “Providence did that for you,” Cort replied. He smiled warmly. Maddie smiled back but she avoided his eyes.

  That bothered him. He put Percy back in the enclosure in his own fenced area, very thoughtful. Maddie was polite, but she’d been backing away from him for days now. He felt insecure. He wanted to ask her what was wrong. Probably, he was going to have to do that pretty soon.

  * * *

  MADDIE WENT TO work on her sculptures with a vengeance, now that she had enough materials to produce anything she liked.

  Her first work, though, was a tribute to her new friend. She made a fairy who looked just like Odalie, perched on a lily pad, holding a firefly. She kept it hidden when Cort and Odalie came to see her, which was pretty much every single day. It was her secret project.

  She was so thrilled with it that at first she didn’t even want to share it with them. Of all the pieces she’d done, this was her best effort. It had been costly, too. Sitting in one position for a long time, even in her cushy imported wheelchair, was uncomfortable and took a toll on her back.

  “You mustn’t stress your back muscles like this,” the therapist fussed when she went in for therapy, which she did every other day. “It’s too much strain so early in your recovery.”

  She smiled while the woman used a heat lamp and massage on her taut back. “I know. I like to sculpt things. I got overenthusiastic.”

  “Take frequent breaks,” the therapist advised.

  “I’ll do that. I promise.”

  * * *

  SHE WAS WALKING now, just a little at a time, but steadily. Cort had bought a unit for her bathtub that created a Jacuzzi-like effect in the water. It felt wonderful on her sore and bruised back. He’d had a bar installed, too, so that she could ease herself up out of the water and not have to worry about slipping.

  Odalie brought her exotic cheeses and crackers to eat them with, having found out that cheese was pretty much Maddie’s favorite food. She brought more art books, and classical music that Maddie loved.

  Cort brought his guitar and sang to her. That was the hardest thing to bear. Because Maddie knew he was only doing it because he thought Maddie had feelings for him. It was humiliating that she couldn’t hide them, especially since she knew that he loved Odalie and always would.

  But she couldn’t help but be entranced by it. She loved his deep, rich voice, loved the sound of the guitar, with its mix of nylon and steel strings. It was a classical guitar. He’d ordered it from Spain. He played as wonderfully as he sang.

  When he’d played “Recuerdos de
la Alhambra” for her, one of the most beautiful classical guitar compositions ever conceived, she wept like a baby.

  “It is beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, drying her tears with a handkerchief. “It was composed by a Spaniard, Francisco Tárrega, in 1896.” He smiled. “It’s my favorite piece.”

  “Mine, too,” she said. “I had a recording of guitar solos on my iPod with it. But you play it just as beautifully as that performer did. Even better than he did.”

  “Thanks.” He put the guitar back into its case, very carefully. “From the time I was ten, there was never any other instrument I wanted to play. I worried my folks to death until they bought me one. And Morie used to go sit outside while I practiced, with earplugs in.” He chuckled, referring to his sister.

  “Poor Morie,” she teased.

  “She loves to hear me play, now. She said it was worth the pain while I learned.”

  She grinned. “You know, you could sing professionally.”

  He waved that thought away. “I’m a cattleman,” he replied. “Never wanted to be anything else. The guitar is a nice hobby. But I don’t think I’d enjoy playing and singing as much if I had to do it all the time.”

  “Good point.”

  “How’s that sculpture coming along?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “Come see.”

  She turned on the wheelchair and motored herself into the makeshift studio they’d furnished for her in her father’s old bedroom. It had just the right airy, lighted accommodation that made it a great place to work. Besides that, she could almost feel her father’s presence when she was in it.

  “Don’t tell her,” she cautioned as she uncovered a mound on her worktable. “It’s going to be a surprise.”

  “I promise.”

  She pulled off the handkerchief she’d used to conceal the little fairy sculpture. The paint was dry and the glossy finish she’d used over it gave the beautiful creature an ethereal glow.

  “It looks just like her!” Cort exclaimed as he gently picked it up.

  She grinned. “Do you think so? I did, but I’m too close to my work to be objective about it.”