She gently shampooed her hair and tried to empty her mind of all thoughts. She hated to admit it, but Forest was right; thinking too hard threatened to bring back the headache that she was so grateful was now gone.
Laundry was all she needed to take care of today and by tomorrow she’d be ready to face the bones again. She finished the shower and dressed in a pair of navy capris and a red and white button-up sleeveless blouse.
She grabbed her laundry bag from the bathroom, a plastic bag of detergent pods and then opened the room door.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Forest sat in a chair just outside of his room.
“Laundry. Or am I now some kind of a prisoner?” she asked.
He rose from his chair and gestured for her to hand him the cotton bag of dirty clothing. “I just don’t want to see you doing too much. You’re still in recovery mode.”
She tightened her grip on the bag. “I think I can manage throwing some clothes into a machine and turning it on. I’m feeling much better.” Her hold on the bag was now a death grip. “Trust me, I’ve got this.”
“Okay, then I’ll just walk with you to the laundry room.”
She wanted to be cross with him, to tell him that she didn’t need him or his presence. But her mind filled with the thought of him sitting in a hard-backed chair throughout the night, of the soft slide of a cool cloth across her forehead, and it was impossible to be irritated with him.
“Suit yourself,” she finally replied and headed to the opposite end of the cowboy motel where the laundry room was located.
“I think it would be a good idea for you to join us for dinner in the cowboy dining room tonight,” he said as she began to load the washing machine.
She stopped what she was doing and turned to look at him. “Why would I want to do that?”
“You barely touched the breakfast I brought to you and you refused lunch. You need a good hot meal, and the dining room is the best option for that.” His blue eyes held more than a hint of determination that she didn’t have the energy to protest.
It was just one meal, she told herself. “Fine,” she said and turned back to finish loading the clothes. She tossed in a detergent pod, started the machine and then turned to face him once again.
He smiled, that ridiculous gesture crinkling his eyes with warmth and stirring an equally ridiculous response of heat in her. “I’m glad you agreed,” he said over the sound of the washing machine filling with water. “I was afraid I’d have to carry you over my shoulder and tie you to a bench in the dining room.”
“How long do you intend to run my life?” She crossed her arms as if that might keep her safe from the flitter of heat his smile had evoked.
“At least for the next day or so. After that we’ll see how stubborn you are.”
“I’m planning on getting back to work tomorrow.”
“That’s not happening,” he replied, again with a touch of surprising stubbornness in his voice. “The doctor said you need a couple of days of brain rest. I’ve already got a nice day of relaxation planned for you for tomorrow.”
She shoved past him and out of the laundry room. He followed closely at her heels as she walked back to her room. A day of relaxation...she didn’t even know what that might look like. She didn’t do relaxation. She worked.
When she reached her room she turned to look at him once again. “I can’t just stay away from the tent forever, Forest. I have people depending on me to get the job done.”
“I understand that, but you are also recuperating from a head injury and one more day isn’t going to make that much difference in the investigation.” He looked at his watch. “By the time your laundry is finished it will be time for us to head to the dining room.”
“I don’t like this,” she exclaimed. She’d always maintained tight control of every aspect in her life, and at the moment everything had spiraled completely out of her control. It was a scary feeling that threatened to close up the back of her throat and made her want to wail in protest.
“I didn’t figure you would, but I’m only looking after your well-being.” A softness flowed from his gaze, a softness that was both earnest and caring.
She needed to get away from him. A lump had leapt to her throat and her eyes burned with the unfamiliar sensation of impending tears. What was wrong with her? What was it about this man that made her want to shed tears?
“I’ll see you at dinnertime,” she said and made a quick entrance into her room.
She sat on the edge of her bed, her brain still filled with his words, the truth that had flowed from his gaze. Nobody had ever cared much about her well-being. Certainly not her mother before she’d left the marriage and then her child, and definitely not her father who had been a cold and unemotional man when he was present at all.
Why did this gentle giant of a cowboy care about her when nobody else ever had? Even Devon hadn’t come to check on her since she’d been hit in the head, although she was sure he was probably getting updates from somebody.
What had she done to earn Forest’s concern for her? What had she done to gain what appeared to be a genuine softness for her in him?
When she left her room a half an hour later to move her laundry from the washer to the dryer, Forest was at the side of the building pulling weeds. When her clothes were dry he was back in the chair just outside his door.
“Ready for dinner?” he asked and rose as she opened her door to place her clean clothes inside. He stood in her doorway as she set the neatly folded items on the bed.
“You know I don’t like this,” she repeated to him.
He grinned. “You don’t like a lot of things, but it will be good for you to step out of your comfort zone for a little while.”
She sighed, locked her door and pulled it closed behind her, and then together they headed around the building to the back, where the cowboy dining room was located.
She was like a cow going to slaughter, nervous about a different experience and unsure of what to expect. Did cows even have feelings...fears? Good grief, her brain was definitely still scrambled if she was thinking about how cattle felt.
“Don’t be nervous,” Forest said as if he read her mind and to her surprise he grabbed her hand with his. Big and strong, his slightly calloused hand swallowed hers in a pleasant, reassuring warmth. “I’m fairly certain that no one among the men there is a human-eating zombie.”
A burst of laughter bubbled out of her. “I can honestly say that thought never entered my mind.”
“Trust me, you will be treated not only with respect by all of the men, but also to a terrific meal provided by Cookie,” he replied.
“I haven’t earned any respect or goodwill from anyone while I’ve been here,” she said with a touch of chagrin. Forest’s kindness had shone an uncomfortable light on her own behavior since she’d been on the ranch.
He squeezed her hand. “Just relax and enjoy this new experience. Don’t think about anything else.”
As they entered the dining room Patience’s first impression was of controlled chaos. Long picnic tables were set up in the center of the huge room and nine cowboys were seated there, silverware clinking and laughter ringing as they enjoyed their evening meal together.
It was obvious the room was not just a dining area, but also a hangout as one section held several sofas and easy chairs and a television.
It was the buffet table that captured her attention as hunger pangs shot through her stomach. She was suddenly starving. Thick slices of ham were on a tray next to a huge bowl of fried potatoes and onions. Bright red sliced tomatoes competed in color with a pan of steamed yellow and orange squash. A basket held yeasty dinner rolls the size of her palm.
Forest handed her a plate and she began to fill it, as he moved just behind her, heaping food on his own plate. “Forest... Dr
. Forbes, over here.”
The blond cowboy she recognized as Dusty waved them to empty spots at his picnic table. She followed Forest and they slid onto the bench seat side by side with Dusty across the table from them.
“I’ll go grab our silverware and drinks,” Forest said. “Iced tea okay?”
“Fine,” she replied, nerves immediately jangling inside her as he got up and left her at the table.
“Dr. Forbes, how are you feeling?” Dusty asked.
“Much better, thank you, and please call me Patience.”
“Okay,” he replied, looking pleased. “Patience, I’ve got to tell you, you definitely scared the heck out of all of us,” Dusty said. His blue eyes narrowed. “We don’t like the idea of anyone hurting one of our own, especially a woman.”
“I can hardly be considered one of your own,” she protested. “I’m just here to do a job.”
“As long as you’re on this property, you’re one of us,” Dusty exclaimed firmly.
One of us...the words held such a surprising, welcoming ring. She’d never been one of anything before. She’d always been just one.
Forest returned to the table and while they ate he and Dusty filled her in on who was who among the ranch hands. “The cowboy with the blond hair over there is Clay Madison. He’s our resident womanizer, and the man next to him is Tony Nakni. Tony is Choctaw Indian.” Dusty flashed his dimples in a grin. “I keep trying to get him to teach me some of the Choctaw dances and traditions, but he tells me when I dance I look like a rubber chicken on steroids.”
Patience grinned and realized why Forest had remained so close to Dusty. He seemed refreshingly open and honest. As the meal continued, she learned the names of the other men... Brody Booth, Mac McBride, Sawyer Quincy, Flint McCay, Jerod Steen and foreman Adam Benson.
When she left the dining room she’d probably be unable to name most of them, but there was no question that there was a strong bond among the men. They teased each other unmercifully and laughed both at themselves and at each other. There was warmth in the room, the warmth of caring and men who looked after each other.
It was definitely an unfamiliar atmosphere for Patience and as she listened to the laughter and talk whirling around her, she did relax and enjoy the delicious meal.
The only person who didn’t interact with the others was Cookie, who stood at the end of the buffet table like an island unto himself. He was a daunting figure with his muscular build, buzz-cut black hair and dark eyes.
After the meal was finished, Forest talked her into staying for a little while to listen to Mac McBride play his guitar. Several of the cowboys, including Mac, moved to the sofas, and Patience recognized that this was probably something that happened on a regular basis.
By the time Mac had strummed a couple of chords, she recognized that he wasn’t just a cowboy who occasionally tinkered at playing. He was a talented musician who not only played well, but as Forest had mentioned, also had the deep, soothing voice of an angel.
After the fourth song, Patience touched Forest’s forearm to tell him she was ready to leave. He took one look at her features and stood.
“You could have stayed,” she said as he walked her out of the dining room. “As much as I was enjoying myself, I’m exhausted.”
“I was ready to go anyway,” he replied.
They were quiet until they reached her room. “Surely you aren’t planning on checking my pupils all night again tonight,” she said as she pulled her room key out of her pocket.
“I don’t think that’s necessary. But I would prefer you not leave your room alone either tonight or tomorrow.”
She looked up at him, his eyes taking on the faint violet hue of the twilight that surrounded them. “You think I’m in danger.” It was a statement, not a question.
He hesitated a moment and then nodded somberly. “Even though you don’t remember it, you were viciously attacked. Until we know why or by whom, I don’t want you alone anywhere. It might have been the result of the unpleasant conversation you had with some of the Humes ranch hands at the café. I haven’t heard anything from Dillon today, but I don’t want you in a vulnerable position all alone again.”
“Does that mean I’ve just gained a bodyguard?” she asked.
He smiled. “Yeah, and I already know you don’t like it, but until somebody is in jail for attacking you or you finish up your work and leave here, you have your own personal bodyguard.”
“But you have your own work to do here at the ranch,” she protested.
“During the days when you’re in the tent doing your thing, I’ll be in the corral working with the horse. When you’re safe in your room, I’ll be in mine. If you decide to go anywhere for any reason, you need to make sure I’m with you.” His gaze was once again somber. “This isn’t optional, Patience.”
She hesitated a moment and then nodded. “Okay. Good night, Forest.” She unlocked her door and opened it.
“Tomorrow you stay in your room until I come and get you. I’ve got the day planned out for us, and then the next day if you feel like it you can get back to your bones.”
Once again she nodded and then with a wave of her hand she stepped into her room and closed and locked the door behind her. She tried not to think as she undressed, pulled on her nightgown, turned out the light and then curled up in the bed.
It was really too early to go to sleep, but she was tired and didn’t even feel like reading one of her tabloids. Instead, in the darkness of the room, her mind began to whirl.
She’d hated the very idea of eating in the cowboy dining room and yet had found the experience quite pleasant. All of the men had been kind to her, each of them at one time or another inquiring how she felt, did she need more tea, was she ready for dessert?
Her thoughts shifted to her final conversation with Forest and the fear that had been missing from her since the attack appeared like a quivering ball of anxiety in the pit of her stomach.
Forest believed she was in danger, and it was impossible for her to find facts to cling to in order to prove otherwise. Had the blow to her head been the result of her verbal altercation with the creepy men in the café? Or had it been something far more ominous?
Was the person who had killed the young men in the pit determined to keep the rest of the bones from being processed? Was she perceived as the greatest risk of uncovering the secret of the killer’s identity?
Had the whack over her head been a simple assault or attempted murder? A chill danced up her spine as her mouth dried.
Was it possible she’d just dined with a man who wanted her dead? Forest had designated himself to be her bodyguard, but like the other cowboys he’d been at the ranch when the murders had occurred.
She wanted to trust him. She needed to trust him, but she couldn’t help a little bit of doubt that darkened her heart.
* * *
It was just after ten the next morning when Forest knocked on Patience’s door. He had everything prepared for what he hoped would be a relaxing, non-stressful day for the two of them. The Wednesday morning sun was brilliant, but a slight breeze promised a day not quite as hot as the days that had passed since July had swept in.
The weather report had indicated a possible rain storm late that evening. All the ranchers in the area would appreciate the rain. It had been far too long since they’d had any precipitation to ease the summer drought.
Patience opened her door and Forest’s appreciation for potential rain shifted to a burst of pleasure at the sight of her. She wasn’t dressed in anything special, just denim capris and a lavender sleeveless button-up blouse that enhanced the red of her hair and the bright green of her eyes.
“You know I feel well enough to get back to work,” she said in greeting.
“And we agreed that you’d take today off and we’ll see how you f
eel tomorrow,” he replied. “Besides, I’ve got the day all planned out and it doesn’t require you using your brain power at all.” Her eyes held a hint of distrust he hadn’t seen there before. He frowned at her. “What are you thinking, Dr. Forbes?”
“Nothing,” she replied. “I’m on notice not to think today.” She stepped out of her room and closed the door behind her. “So, what are we doing?”
“The first thing on the agenda is stopping by the dining room to get a duffel that Cookie has prepared.” They walked side by side and Forest continued talking. “I spent all day yesterday trying to decide how I wanted you to relax today. I thought about taking you into town to have lunch at Tammy’s Tea House.”
“Tammy’s Tea House—that doesn’t sound like a place where a cowboy would be comfortable,” she replied.
“Especially a big cowboy trying to maneuver dainty little tea cups and sandwiches the size of my thumb.” He flashed her a quick smile. “Besides, you don’t strike me as the kind of woman who would be impressed in a place that has pink tablecloths and girly decorations.”
“And what kind of a woman do I strike you as?” she asked in obvious curiosity.
Forest stopped walking and gazed at her thoughtfully. “I’m not quite sure yet. I’m still trying to figure you out.”
By that time they had reached the dining room entrance. The room was empty, as it was too late for breakfast and too early for lunch.
Cookie appeared from the kitchen with a duffel bag that also had a cooler area inside. “That should be everything you need,” he said as he handed it to Forest.
“Thanks, Cookie, I appreciate it.”
Cookie gave a curt nod and then disappeared back into the kitchen.
“What’s in the bag?” Patience asked.
“It’s a secret,” Forest replied with a mysterious smile as he and Patience stepped back outside into the bright sunshine.
“I just hope the contents don’t contain a meat cleaver and a collapsible shovel,” she replied.
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