by Becky McGraw
"I'm not doing equine therapy, I'll just stick with the weight program," Ethan told Terri gruffly then started eating again, although the food tasted like sawdust in his mouth.
"But Ethan--" Terri started and he held up his hand to stop her.
"I don't ride and I have enough on my plate trying to learn to walk," he told her grinding his teeth. "I don't want her help."
Terri huffed out a breath then told him, "Ethan she's not out on that kind of date with Wes--"
"Just leave it!" Ethan grated then wiped his mouth then threw his napkin on his plate. "I'm a big boy, Terri, stop treating me like a child and planning out my life for me."
"Stop acting like one," she volleyed and Ethan's heart squeezed. "Just because you kissed her doesn't mean you own her," Terri told him and folded her arms over her chest.
He'd done a helluva lot more than kiss Roxanne at Terri's wedding, but his sister didn't know that, and he wasn't telling her. Now he was nothing more than a sympathy fuck.
Embarrassment flowed through him and he threw his fork down on the plate with a loud clatter, wiped his mouth and angrily tossed his napkin on top of it. Shoving back from the table, he rolled out of the room and to the front door. His eyes tracked to the corner by the front door where he'd put the walker Terri had given him. Grabbing it, Ethan balanced it on his lap, then jerked open the door and wheeled outside.
Ethan hadn't used the walker yet, but he was damned tired of being restricted by the confining wheelchair. It had been over three months since his accident, he figured now was as good a time as any to see if he was recovered enough to use it.
He wanted to be standing when he confronted Roxanne.
It was tough going, but he managed to muscle the chair over the uneven ground to the golf cart at the back of the house. He threw the walker into the back of the cart and locked the brakes on the wheelchair then hefted himself into the driver's seat.
Since his legs didn't work, not well at least, the best he could hope for was to put his foot on the pedal to get the thing moving. Stopping was going to be the trick. If he moved his foot off the gas far enough in advance, he figured he could coast to a stop.
At least he hoped he could.
Getting away from his sister and out of the house was the goal. He didn't care where he wound up. Being stuck in there with only brief trips between the house and the gym was driving him crazy. Ethan was used to wide open spaces, and he was finally able to breathe when he started across the yard toward the barn.
Full and bright, the moon lit the path as he guided the cart as carefully as he could across the potholed ground. With each jostle of the cart, his butt bounced on the seat and several times his foot came off of the gas pedal. Pain shot up his back and down his legs, but he ignored it. He was determined to get to the bunkhouse to wait for Roxanne to get back home.
As he neared the bunkhouse, one end of the porch was dark due to a burned out bulb, but the other was lit in an eerie yellow glow. Something moved at the far end of the porch. Squinting he saw a blonde woman sitting in a rocker on the porch. The chair was moving in short agitated strokes and she had her arms crossed over her chest.
For a minute he thought it was Rocky, but as he drew closer, he saw she was wearing a short, blue business-type suit. Definitely not the irritating female ranch hand's style.
Roxanne Baker wouldn't be caught dead in a suit. The candy pink dress she'd worn to the wedding had been something he was sure she wouldn't have worn without being hog-tied first, or unless her best friend had begged, which he was sure his sister had done.
The chair stopped rocking and the woman stood, evidently noticing his approach. He looked closer at her as he drew near and the light got better, and decided that although the woman was shorter, she had to be related to Roxanne, because they looked a lot alike. This woman was just softer and rounder, maybe a little younger.
Ethan suddenly realized he was right up on the porch and his foot was still on the gas. Quickly, he shoved his foot off of the pedal, but he knew the cart wasn't going to coast to a stop. He was going too fast and braced for the impact he knew was coming.
The nose of the cart slammed into the bushes surrounding the porch, then hit the rail and he felt himself flying through the air. Half in and half out of the cart, his upper body in the bushes when he got his senses back, Ethan dragged his legs the rest of the way out then pulled up on the crossbar of the cart to stand.
A feminine gasp sounded then a cultured southern belle voice asked, "Are you okay, sugar?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, I just couldn't stop quick enough," he said gruffly, his face scorching from embarrassment.
"Oh, shoo, shoo!" the woman shrieked and he saw her waving her hands and backing down the long porch. "Go away!" she yelled and kept backing away.
For a minute, Ethan thought she was talking to him, then he saw a huge mama skunk and two babies on the porch. He must've scared them out of the bushes when he crashed the cart. The furry black and white mama had her tail lifted and she was hissing at the woman.
There was no way he could get over there to help her, so all he could do was watch as the skunk moved forward then suddenly reversed direction and sprayed a huge stream of musk in her direction.
A shrill scream split the night air and Ethan flinched. The surprised skunks scurried off of the porch and hustled across the yard, but the woman was still screaming and sputtering.
Good God, that woman's scream could shatter glass, or his ear drums, he thought and jerked the walker off of the ground where it had landed. Flicking open the contraption, he locked each side then started slowly toward the porch and the hysterical woman.
The closer he got the stronger the aroma became, until the meatloaf in his stomach started seesawing and he had to stop and cover his nose. "Whew, ma'am you got sprayed good," he said and held back the laughter that was bubbling inside of him.
"Damned polecat," she sputtered and kicked off her high-heeled shoes, before she started shedding clothes. Ethan swallowed the burst of laughter that about choked him and leaned on the walker to watch the show.
"I have an interview in two days and I can't smell like this," she whined.
"Tomato juice," Ethan informed.
"Do what?" she asked, her fingers stopping at the button on the side of her skirt.
"You need to take a bath in tomato juice and it'll get rid of the smell. I got sprayed at a fire one time and it took me a week to get the stink off. One of the guys told me to do that and it helped."
Her lip trembled and she was close enough to the light that he saw her blue eyes fill with tears. "I have an appointment for a job interview in Amarillo day after tomorrow," she told him.
"You better buy a case of juice then," he told her with a chuckle. "It took me a week to get rid of it."
Her voice raised a few octaves as she said, "I don't have any money."
Ethan knew women, and he knew she was winding up for a full blown fit. All he needed was a hysterical woman on his hands, so he knew he'd better try and help her.
"You have a car?" he asked, but that was a moot point, because he didn't have any money either to help her.
"Yes, it's around back. I just came here to see Annie and hang out until my interview."
Ethan lifted a brow, "Annie?" Maybe she wasn't kin to Roxanne after all. As far as he knew, there wasn't anyone named Annie out here at the ranch.
"My sister, Roxanne," she clarified then unbuttoned and unzipped her skirt. When it dropped to the porch, she was standing there in a thin white silk shell and her pink thong underwear. Ethan swallowed a couple of times and for some reason compared her shorter legs to those of her long-legged sister. There was no comparison, Rocky had better legs.
Where Rocky was lean and athletic, her sister was round and soft. Her breasts looked cosmetically enhanced too from the cleavage all but spilling out of the V in the silk tank top. Either that or her wonder bra was performing miracles.
"There's a shower in the bunkhou
se, and I think there are a couple of cans of juice up at the house. I'll go get them and be back in a few minutes."
"I'll go get my suitcase," she told him then walked down the steps. Her bare feet touched the dirt, and she stopped then cringed. "What if there are other...things...out there?" she said with fear and disgust in her voice. Her perfectly arched brows drew together over her pert nose and she scrunched up her mouth into a pout.
Ethan huffed out a breath then told her, "Stay on the porch, I'll take the cart around back and get it. Where are your keys?"
"It's not locked," she told him then quickly moved back up onto the porch. "Thank you, um..."
"Ethan," he told her placing the walker beside the cart before swinging himself back into the cart. He jerked the walker up and wrangled it into the passenger seat.
This was going to be an ordeal, Ethan knew it. A man who couldn't walk was going to have to get her suitcase out of the car, it would probably weight fifty pounds or more, then he was going to gather two cans of tomato juice from the house, then make it back here to help her de-skunk herself. Not too much to ask, right?
It was pathetic, but he was actually excited about doing it. This was the most excitement he'd had in months, and at least he felt useful.
At least someone needed him again.
"What's your name?" he asked before he shifted the cart into reverse.
"Leigh Ann Baker," she replied then tilted her chin and added with an exaggerated drawl, "former Miss Texas, USA."
The statement seemed a bit ridiculous considering she was standing on the porch in her drawers, smelling like she'd been fermenting for a few weeks.
A beauty queen, it figured.
That explained the makeup that looked like she'd put on with a putty knife. It also explained the prissiness she had about her. The woman certainly had the looks for it, but most people wouldn't announce that title when they introduced themselves. If that was the best thing she could say about herself, this woman had led a very small life.
Thank goodness Roxanne wasn't anything like her sister.
"I'll be back in a few minutes, Leigh Ann...why don't you go get in the shower for round one of the fumigation process."
It took him about forty-five minutes to perform all the tasks that would have taken him fifteen three months ago. The suitcases, plural as it turned out, were the biggest challenge. Not only did she have one massive case, she had two others. One he thought might contain makeup from the way it smelled, and the other shoes from the way it rattled when he hefted them into the cart.
Trying to wrestle all of that luggage into the back of the golf cart and balance himself at the same time had not been easy. To make it easier on himself, instead of delivering the cases right away, he left the luggage in the back of the cart when he went to the big house for the juice.
By the time he got to the house, he had almost been too worn out to transition himself from the cart into the wheelchair, but he managed. Penny must have been in bed and Terri and Joel had evidently gone home right after dinner. The house was dark, and nobody was around.
Luckily, he found two cans of juice in the pantry on the bottom shelf. If the juice had been on a higher shelf, Ethan probably couldn't have reached it, because he was too damned tired to try to stand. Finally, when he coasted the cart to a stop in front of the bunkhouse again, this time without crashing into the porch, Ethan felt like he'd indeed done those extra reps in the weight room he'd refused to do earlier.
That might have been easier, he thought grabbing the walker and unfolding it.
Reaching back into the cart, he put the loop of the bag with the juice in it over his arm then made slow unsteady steps to the porch with the walker. Miss Priss was going to have to carry in her own luggage, because he wasn't going to be able to manage that and the walker.
Because he had no idea how to navigate the narrow steps on the walker, Ethan put the walker and bag of juice on the porch, then sat down on the top step. Using the porch post, he pulled himself up then picked up the bag and balanced on the walker again. When he reached the door, Ethan was pretty damned proud of his ingenuity in working all this out.
Once inside the door, he yelled, "Leigh!"
She didn't answer and he cursed under his breath then headed toward the bathroom. The smell from the skunk musk was overwhelming in the front room. It burned his eyes and made them water. Ethan could only imagine how Roxanne's sister must be feeling closed up in the bathroom with the steam enhancing the effect.
Roxanne was gonna have a conniption when she got home and smelled it.
At the door, he knocked. "Leigh Ann?" he said loudly.
When she didn't answer, he tried the doorknob hoping she hadn't passed out from the noxious fumes. It turned and he opened the door, but didn't stick his head inside.
"Leigh Ann, are you okay in there?" he asked with concern.
He heard sniffling and a low pitched sob, so he pushed the door wider. She was sitting in the bottom of the shower curled up in a ball crying as the water poured over her. Her head rested on her knees and her hair hung in stringy clumps over her arms.
Jesus, could it get any worse?
Sitting the bag of juice on the counter, he left the walker and used the ledge to make his way over to the shower, where he slid down the wall to sit outside the shower.
Reaching up, he grabbed a towel off of the bar and told her, "Leigh, it's okay honey, we'll get the stink off. Come here," he told her and held out the towel. She looked up at him and he almost laughed. Mascara left streaks around her eyes and down her cheeks making her look like a sad raccoon.
His lips twitched, but somehow Ethan managed to keep a straight face. "Let me help you dry off, then we'll do the tomato juice thing," he coaxed and averted his face, so she could get out of the shower modestly. Not that she'd shown a shred of modesty thus far. The woman didn't seem to notice she was in the room naked with a man she didn't even know, had undressed in plain view on the front porch in front of him too.
He heard her sniffle again, then droplets of water hit his hand, before the towel was pulled out of his hand.
"Don't cry," he begged with a groan.
"My life is a mess," she told him sullenly. "This is just the icing on the cake...stinky as it is," she added with another soft sob.
From the corner of his eye, Ethan saw her lean back against the wall, then she slid down to sit beside him hugging her knees again. Her head was bowed and her shoulders shook with her sobs.
"Well mine ain't a garden of roses, sweetheart," he told her unsympathetically.
Ethan wished his problems were as simple as being sprayed by a skunk. Tomato juice wasn't going to solve his problems, and he wasn't sitting here crying like a baby...although he wanted to.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked as if she hadn't noticed he couldn't walk.
"Um, well let's see..." he started putting a finger on his chin. "My back is broken, my career is finished, my legs don't work, your sister is out with another man, my sister is pushing me to the breaking point, and now...I have a smelly woman who's crying her eyes out over being sprayed by a skunk adding to my misery."
"I don't have a job, I found a wrinkle this morning, I've gained five pounds in the last three months, and my mother is trying to marry me off to an old rich man who has more wrinkles than a raisin...and now I got sprayed by a family of polecats."
"It was only one mama polecat," he corrected.
"I smell like I got sprayed by a family then," she said and her lower lip trembled.
"Why is your mama trying to marry you off to an old man?" he asked wondering if Roxanne knew what was going on with her sister.
"She thinks I need someone to take care of me. He's rich and that impresses her. She should marry him, he's her age."
"Do you need someone to take care of you?" he asked genuinely perplexed as to why her mother would try to do that to her daughter. He could only imagine what Terri would have told their mother if she was that way.
"Well, yeah...I dropped out of college after the pageant and didn't go back, so I don't have any skills. But I don't want to marry an old guy."
He chuckled at that. "Well, maybe a young rich guy will come along."
"I want the whole enchilada..." she said then the waterworks started again. "I want love and happily ever after with a young rich guy."
Ethan put his arm around her and pulled her against him. He was surprised when she scrambled up onto his lap and put her arms around his neck, before burying her head in his shoulder. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess. Thank you for helping me," she told him and sobbed.
How the hell he'd gotten himself into this mess, Ethan didn't know. He'd come out here mad and loaded for bear to unload on her sister, and now here he was with Rocky's stinky wailing sister in his lap.
"Well, isn't this cozy. Glad to see you've met my sister," Roxanne said sharply from the doorway. Surprised, Ethan looked up into Roxanne's angry gray eyes. "What are you doing here, Leigh Ann?" she asked tapping the toe of her dusty boots.
Leigh Ann scooted off of Ethan's lap and stood, tugging the towel back up to cover her breasts. "Annie!" she shouted and ran toward Roxanne, who stood there unmoving when she threw her arms around the taller woman's waist.
Holding Ethan's eyes with her heated gaze, Roxanne pushed Leigh Ann away and said, "You're wet, and you stink, sister."
Covering her nose with her hand, Roxanne spun on her heel. Ethan heard her boot heels on the hardwood floor as she stomped down the hallway, then flinched when she slammed her bedroom door and the walls rattled.
A high-pitched keening wail erupted from Leigh Ann. She turned back toward him as if looking for comfort again, but Ethan was done with that drama. He had bigger fish to fry, like straightening out Roxanne and saying what he came out here to say to her.
Holding up his hands to Leigh Ann as if to ward off evil, he grabbed the toilet to pull himself up to his knees, then pushed up to his feet and edged along the countertop to the walker.
"Use the tomato soup in the bottles to shower again. Wash your hair with it too. I'd suggest you buy more tomorrow and do it again. If you want your suitcases, they're out in the golf cart. I can't carry them inside," he told her then took careful steps with the walker down the hall toward Roxanne's bedroom.