He also remembered the dog Ug and Alex changing his bandage before she left. He couldn’t possibly have told her she was beautiful. Could he? Not something that Brett would normally say. Was Kincaid right? Had he already begun wooing her? More importantly, had it worked?
Chapter Five
Alex made scrambled eggs with a fierce frown. She could count the number of times she’d seen Brett in the last ten years on one hand, now he was with her for the next forty-eight hours. Lady Luck sure didn’t like her. All Alex had to do was stay strong and forget the memories.
Forget the time they lay down in the tall grass by the creek on the Malloy property and made sweet love. Forget the first time he’d told her she was perfect for him. Forget the time he’d told her he could never marry her.
Oh, yep, that’d work.
“What did those eggs ever do to you?” Her father’s voice broke through her angry meanderings.
“Papa. I’m sorry. I’m a little out of sorts this morning. We had a new patient come in and I was up a lot with him during the night.” She wasn’t lying to her father, just omitting the part about being sleepless because she was thinking about him recuperating downstairs.
“Really? What kind of injury?”
“Concussion, contusions and some lacerations. He seems to be fine, but with the head injury I thought he needed to stay here for a couple of days.” Damn his sorry hide.
“Good idea.” Her father’s white hair stuck up every which way and his craggy face appeared to have sagged even lower. He wasn’t well, nor was he taking care of himself. The liquor he consumed was beginning to consume him.
“Do you want some breakfast?”
He patted his stomach. “No, I’m not feeling up to it. I will take some coffee though.”
She poured him a cup and wondered how she could convince the physician to heal himself.
“Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll just go poke my head in and introduce myself.” He started to walk out of the kitchen.
“Wait! It’s, uh, well, that is…” She threw up her hands. “Okay, it’s Brett.”
He pursed his lips. “That is interesting. And you didn’t kill him?”
“Funny, Papa. Very funny.” She scraped the now overdone eggs onto the waiting plate. “He’s a patient, nothing more.”
“So I hear.” He sounded anything but convinced.
“Here, bring him these.” She thrust the plate at her father. “He can’t have coffee but if he wants water or milk, let me know.”
“Yes, ma’am.” With another probing look, her father shuffled out of the kitchen.
Why couldn’t Brett have bought a ranch in the next county? At least then she wouldn’t worry about being his physician. She gripped the edge of the sink and willed herself to slow down and get control. Brett had always made her crazy, brought out the worst in her temper and temperament. Alex wasn’t a violent person by nature, but there were times he drove her to it.
After a few deep breaths, she straightened. She wouldn’t allow him to ruin what she’d worked hard to build. Brett wasn’t going to change her life again.
“Dr. Byron.” Brett was shocked to see how old and frail Alex’s father looked. “It’s good to see you. This is my friend Kincaid.”
The old doctor nodded. “Good morning, gentlemen.” He glanced down at the plate in his hands. “Alex made you some breakfast. At least I think it’s breakfast. I’m not sure if she’s trying to heal or harm here.”
Kincaid chuckled. “Sounds like my kind of woman.”
“Shut up.” Brett tried to sit up but his head protested vehemently. “Holy cow.”
“Lay back down and I’ll feed you.” Dr. Byron sat on the chair next to the examining table. “Makes me feel like I’m not entirely useless.”
“You’re as sharp as a tack.” Brett didn’t think Byron’s mental faculties had changed one bit.
“More like dull as dishwater.”
All three of them laughed. While Byron fed Brett the rubbery eggs, he had a notion of how it would feel to have Alex spoon-feed him. Terrifying actually. He didn’t want to be in the position he was in, much less be dependent on her for everything.
Then again, perhaps being injured would give him a chance with her. There wasn’t another woman in the world he wanted as his wife, experience had taught him that. Trevor’s new lady, Adelaide, was beautiful, but Alex, she was priceless for more than her beauty or her gumption. She was intelligent, quick-witted, and she understood the value of hard work. A perfect companion.
“You’re not planning on kissing me, are you?” Byron mused.
Brett focused on the old doctor and realized he’d been daydreaming about Alex. “No, I’m sorry. My head feels a bit off. I think I need to get some sleep.”
He pulled the covers up with his left hand and closed his eyes.
“Well I guess we’re dismissed.” Byron exited the room with a chuckle.
“I guess so.” Kincaid touched Brett’s uninjured shoulder. “I’ll come back in the morning to check on you. I put your horse up at the livery.”
“Thanks.” Brett cracked one eye open. “For everything.”
“I expect you’ll be home soon.” Kincaid walked toward the door. “And Brett?”
“What?”
“You need to work on your wooing skills. I don’t think it’s her father you want to be kissing.” With a smirk, Kincaid disappeared out the door.
Brett cursed himself for mistakes from his past that had caught up to him. He really did want Alex as his bride. What better woman could there be? No emotional tantrums, no silly simpering. She was the woman meant to be his and unmarried to boot.
His mind made up, Brett nodded off to sleep dreaming of ways to convince Alex to marry him.
———
“What? You’re kidding right?” Alex put her hands on her hips. “You need to stay in my bed.”
Brett stared at her until she closed her eyes and her cheeks flushed. He wondered if she hadn’t meant to say my bed. He’d certainly had dreams of that bed with him in it.
“I mean, stay in the bed here. In the examining room. Listen, Malloy, you were seriously injured. You can’t possibly think—”
He put two fingers on her lips. “I think a lot of things. The first of which is to take care of some personal business and I refuse to let you do it for me.”
“Ah, okay. I’ll get you a chamber pot.” She pulled away from his touch.
“No, I want to use the privy.” Brett would be adamant about that particular point. She certainly wouldn’t be cleaning up his piss if he had any say in it.
“That’s foolish. It’s upstairs.” She waved her hand in the direction of the ceiling. “You can’t climb the stairs.”
“Yes I can.” Brett swung his legs to the edge of the table and paused.
She pushed his knees. “Get back on that bed.”
He leaned forward until their faces were inches apart. The sweet smell of her breath tickled his nose. This close he could see the thick eyelashes that graced her beautiful brown eyes. Arousal slid through him like hot molasses. Every moment of time he’d spent with Alex in his arms flew through his memory.
The sweet heat, the delicious pleasure, the seemingly bottomless urge to be with her. All of it washed over him in a wave. Although his head still hurt pretty bad, he pulled her to him. The second their bodies made contact, she hissed—he didn’t know if it was in denial or not, but she didn’t move away. As he lowered his lips to hers, he forgot all his pains.
She was hot, her lips soft and demanding. After an initial start of surprise, she kissed him back just as fiercely as he kissed her. He tasted her essence, the tang of coffee on her tongue and the sharpness of arousal. He deepened the kiss, his mouth fused over hers, fitting together as if they’d been cast from the same mold.
His body reacted as if set aflame. His cock sprang up like a jack-in–the-box, pressing against his britches and pulsing with need. It had been too long since he’d been with
a woman, a lifetime since he’d touched Alex.
The slap was unexpected and did more than make his ears ring. His head now felt like it was going to explode right along with his pants. She looked as shocked as he felt. Her brown eyes widened as she stumbled backwards.
“You kissed me.”
“You kissed me back.” Brett’s pulse pounded through his veins, his head throbbing in tune.
“I did not.” She touched her lips and a visible shudder wracked her.
“Yes, you did, Lex.”
“Don’t you dare call me that.” Her face flushed, this time not from embarrassment. Her hand shook as she pointed an accusing finger at him. “You have no right.”
Brett slid to his feet, his damn legs almost refusing to hold his weight. He took a step toward her and she took a step back.
“Don’t.”
“Alex, I… How many times can I say I’m sorry?” He hadn’t meant to hurt her. The past should be kept in the past, not dredged up a dozen years later to literally slap him in the face.
“About a million, and even then it won’t be enough.” She bit her lip and fixed him with a doe-eyed look of hurt. “You broke my heart, Brett. I can’t ever forget that.”
Brett didn’t expect his throat to close up, but it did. Perhaps it was the sheen of tears in her eyes, perhaps it was the aftereffects of the kiss. Perhaps it was the huge thump of his heart letting him know that it wasn’t dead.
“Can you ever forgive me?”
She shook her head and left the room, taking Brett’s chance with her. He should have tried harder so long ago. She was worth it, yet Brett tucked tail and ran when she’d sent him that letter. Looking back at past mistakes made the here and now that much worse.
Brett should’ve fought for her back then. Now he’d have to wage war to win her.
Alex sat on the porch and watched the world go by with dry eyes. She couldn’t cry any more, but inside, her heart trembled. If only he hadn’t kissed her. If only he hadn’t reminded her what it felt like to be in his arms, to breathe in his scent and drown in his kisses.
She stayed away as long as she could. It was two hours past dinnertime before she decided she had to go back to feed Brett. Her father was nowhere to be found and because it was a Saturday, there wasn’t anyone else around to help.
After slapping together a sandwich for him she stomped in, fully ready to be angry and curt with him. He sat in the chair by the window, looking out into the backyard. His hair stuck up every which way from beneath the bandage, and the shirt her father had lent him lay open, too small to be buttoned.
Brett turned to her and the regret she saw in his eyes stopped her rant before it even began.
“You didn’t have to bring me anything. I’m not hungry.”
“I don’t believe that.” She shook herself and walked toward him. No reason to hesitate. Brett had no hold over her.
Liar.
“You need food to heal.” She held the plate out to him.
He glanced at the plate and then back up at her. “I hadn’t realized you were still hurting.”
“Jesus Christ, Brett, just take the food.” Her hands trembled with the force of the feelings exploding within her.
“No.” He stood, wobbled a bit. “I want you to forgive me.”
A million different answers flew through her head, but in the end, her heart overrode them all.
“I can’t. You threw me away.”
He looked surprised. “I didn’t.”
Anger roared through Alex and she hurled the plate at him. He grunted as it bounced off his stomach and landed on the floor with a loud bang. The tin rolled away to rest in the corner. The sandwich slid down his stomach and plopped at his feet.
“How dare you! I l-loved you.”
Brett frowned. “I never knew that.”
Alex put her hands on her hips with a fierce scowl. “What are you talking about? I told you I loved you—you’re the one who never returned the sentiment. You’re the one who stayed away from me. You’re the one who stopped coming by. You’re the one who chose work over me.” She took a shaky breath and beat back the tears that threatened. “You’re the one who told me you didn’t think we should get married.”
Brett looked as though she’d punched him. Too bad, she couldn’t spare a thought for his pain right then. Her own was enough to handle.
She poked him in the chest. “You tossed away what we had and I’ll never, ever forgive you for that.”
Alex turned to leave the room and Brett grabbed her arm.
“Please, Alex, listen to me—”
“No.”
“Dammit.” He whirled her around and she slammed into his chest.
His uninjured arm closed around her and she felt a shudder go through him, she wasn’t sure if it was from pain or something else entirely. She looked up at him, ready to tear off his hide, but stopped when she caught sight of his gaze whirling with a myriad of emotions. Alex’s heart tugged at the most prominent one. Pain.
“I left you alone because that’s what you wanted. You told me yourself.”
Alex’s mouth dropped open. “I did no such thing.”
“I never meant to hurt you. I thought you were angry because of all the time I spent at the ranch. You wanted a man who could live in town and be with you. I didn’t think I was that man.”
Alex knew she had to escape or she’d make a mistake she couldn’t afford.
“You were, but you’re not anymore.” She wiggled in his grasp. “Please let me go. I can’t do this anymore.”
His hold loosened and she was finally able to take a breath.
“Can we call a truce?”
Alex let out a sigh. Against all her better judgment, she gave in, but only a little. “I’ll try.”
Brett leaned forward and kissed her forehead. His touch echoed through her.
“Thank you, Lex.”
Chapter Six
With some difficulty Brett saddled his horse for the first time since the accident. He grinned in triumph and looked around at the empty livery. On the walk over, he thought a lot about what he’d say to Alex. They’d come to a truce of sorts, and with a little bit more finesse, he might be able to plead his case for marriage.
As long as she didn’t hit him again. Brett generally considered his words heavily before using them. Even with all the thinking he’d been doing, he was no closer to knowing exactly what he was going to say. Unusual for Brett, and a very unsettling feeling. One that made his palms itch and his head ache.
Alex had always knocked him somewhat off kilter, now he felt like he was caught up in a twister with nothing to grab onto. He truly hadn’t known she was angry with him over what happened so long ago. She’d sent him a letter twelve years ago telling him not to bother her anymore. What else was he supposed to do?
Fight for her. Make her change her mind. Do something besides run.
After catching his breath, he led his horse back to the clinic. When he arrived, Ug greeted him at the door.
“Hey there, boy.” He scratched the dog behind the ears and his tail thumped happily on the floor. “Where’s your mistress?”
The dog woofed low and padded down the hallway. It was kind of late in the day, she might have already closed up shop while he’d been gone.
“Alex?”
No answer. A tiny sliver of unease slid down his back.
“Alex?”
Ug woofed again and led him to the stairs. Their private quarters were upstairs and he definitely didn’t feel comfortable going up there.
“Alex?”
He heard a groan and a thump. Pure energy shot through him as he raced up the stairs three at a time. His head pounded in time with his feet. Ug ran in front of him and skidded to a halt in front of a closed door, then woofed again once.
“Alex?” He pressed his ear to the door. He heard someone crying.
When he turned the knob, it opened easily. The sight that met him was probably one of the most painful t
hings he’d ever seen.
Alex’s father Byron lay on the floor in a filthy nightshirt. His grayish pallor stood out against the white of the fabric. His salt and pepper hair stuck up every which way like the end of a broom. Alex had wrapped her arms around his chest and was trying desperately to pull him off the floor.
Her hair swung free and her face twisted in an agonized grimace, tears stood in her eyes. When she saw him, she gasped and one tear slid down her cheek.
Without a word, Brett stepped into the room. Together they pulled old doc Brighton off the floor. He couldn’t weigh more than a hundred and forty pounds, likely close to Alex’s weight. Not many women could lift a dead weight off the floor close to their own size.
After tucking him in, Alex took a washrag from a basin on the nightstand, wrung it out and wiped down her father’s face.
Brett felt awkward and embarrassed for her so he touched the back of her shoulder, then stepped outside the room to give them privacy. He waited for her to come out.
Saying she was embarrassed would be an understatement. To have Brett see her and her father at such a low point wasn’t something she wanted to happen. Ever.
Nearly everyone in town knew her father had a drinking problem. It wasn’t a secret. Most days you could find him down at the saloon with Mike. Byron was a good man, but her mother’s unexpected death ten years ago had sent him over the edge to land in chaos and self-pity. Alex was convinced her father was trying to drink himself to death. He’d lost his spirit when her mother died and never got it back. Regardless of his behavior or his choices, he was still her father and she loved him.
Just as he took care of her when she was young, it was time for her to take care of him. With the amount he was drinking, he probably wouldn’t last more than a year. She tried not to think too much about that. She loved him dearly and the thought of not having either of her parents made her heart hiccup and her breath leave her body.
As Alex always did, she focused on the drop instead of the bucket. The smallest amount possible. If she focused on the bucket, she would never get anything done. She considered the drop, the here and now, and knew she had to take care of her father. She cleaned him up as best she could, put him into a clean nightshirt and made him comfortable.
The Tribute Page 5