The Doctor's Cowboy

by Trish Milburn

  “Want to watch TV?” she asked when she was done.

  “Sure.” Thankfully, his sudden erection had calmed down enough that he could stand.

  By the time he reached the couch, he dreaded the act of sitting down again. The up and down always caused the worst pain. Chloe must have picked up on his hesitation because she positioned herself in front of him and extended her hands.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Grab my hands. I’ll help you ease down.”

  “I can sit on my own.”

  “Oh, do stop arguing with me.”

  He smiled at her exasperation. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Though she did her best to help him, his stomach still felt as if he were being cut with a machete.

  “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but it should start causing less pain soon.”

  “Good.” He was looking forward to not wanting to curse a blue streak every time he sat down.

  Chloe sank onto the other end of the couch and kicked off her shoes. She stretched her toes upward as she leaned her arms against her knees. She looked dog-tired.

  When she lifted one foot to massage it, he knew how he could repay her in a small way. He patted the couch next to him. “Lay back and prop your feet up here.”

  She glanced over at him. “What?”

  “I’ll give you a foot rub.”

  “Uh, no. My feet have been stuck in these shoes all day.”

  He chuckled at how she thought that might matter. “You do realize I’m around cowboys and livestock all the time, right? I don’t think your feet are going to bother me.”

  “Wyatt—”

  “Feet, now, or do you want me to risk injury by bending over and grabbing them?”

  She sighed in defeat and spun so that her feet were next to his thigh.

  As he propped her feet on top of his leg, she tensed. “Are you ticklish?”

  “No.”

  “Then relax.”

  “That’s hard to do when a stranger has your feet.”

  He met her gaze and smiled. “I think we’re past the stranger stage, don’t you? I mean, you have seen me without my shirt.”

  “I’ve seen lots of guys without their shirts. Doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

  “But do you play Scrabble with them? Kidnap them and keep them in your home?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “I did not kidnap you.”

  He chuckled at how easily he’d gotten an indignant reaction out of her.

  “Oh, you.” She grabbed a decorative pillow and swatted his arm with it.

  “Don’t hit the injured guy.”

  Instead of responding, she simply rolled her eyes and leaned her head back against the arm of the couch.

  Wyatt used his thumbs to work the balls of her feet. She stayed tense for a few moments more before beginning to relax. He glanced over right before she closed her eyes. He smiled, glad he was able to finally do something to repay her in the tiniest way. He shifted his focus to her feet and noticed that her toenails were painted a pale blue, and each of her big toes sported a white daisy. Even though her feet were covered up most of the time, she still wanted cute toes.

  He worked his way slowly from the balls of her feet to the arches, and a sound of appreciation escaped Chloe. Damn if it didn’t make Wyatt go hard. He decided to pretend it wasn’t happening so hopefully Chloe wouldn’t notice. Her having this effect on him was getting damned inconvenient. If he didn’t cut it out, he was going to get caught.

  “I’m going to need to call my friend Linnea in Dallas tomorrow and tell her she’s lost her best-friend status,” she said without opening her eyes.

  “Like it, huh?”

  “It feels awesome, so much better than when I rub my own feet. You should give up rodeo and become a foot masseur.”

  He snorted at that. “Your feet are one thing. I don’t want to rub some dude’s feet.”

  She smiled at that, and this time something moved in his chest.

  Oh, hell no. He couldn’t feel anything for Chloe, nothing beyond some casual flirtation. A good foot massage was about the best thing he could offer her. And yet he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering, from imagining what it might be like if he were the kind of guy who could stay in one place and have a normal job. If he were from a normal family and could give Chloe even a fraction of what she deserved.

  Maybe the massage was a bad idea. He paused and glanced over at Chloe. All his doubts faded away, at least for the moment, when he saw that she had fallen asleep. Though it made him yearn for things that could never be, he didn’t regret helping her relax after a long day. He could live with the sting of loneliness he suspected he’d feel when he left Blue Falls. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time. He and that empty feeling were old acquaintances.

  But as he watched Chloe sleep, something he couldn’t quite identify shifted inside him and he knew with an absolute certainty that this time it was different. This time, it was going to do a bit more than sting.

  Chapter Nine

  Chloe didn’t want to wake up, not when she felt so good, so relaxed. But she could feel herself drifting upward toward the surface despite her efforts to prevent it. A sudden loud noise followed quickly by laughter yanked her the rest of the way out of sleep and caused her to jump.

  A cry confused her for a moment as she looked away from where her family was standing inside the front door toward the agonized sound. In a horrible flash, she realized what had happened. She’d accidentally kicked Wyatt in the stomach, and his entire body was clenched taut with pain.

  “Oh, my God,” she said as she slipped her feet to the floor and closed the distance between them. “I’m so sorry, Wyatt.”

  He didn’t respond, probably because he was fighting not to let the tears pooled in his eyes break free.

  “I need you to lie down so I can check your wounds.”

  He didn’t move, so she looked at Owen, who she realized had been the one laughing. She ignored the why for the moment.

  “Help me.”

  Owen jumped into action, not needing further instructions. He shifted Wyatt’s legs to the couch while Chloe held one hand gently against Wyatt’s stomach and eased his head to the opposite couch arm from the one she’d been using to prop her pillow.

  Wyatt clenched his teeth and moaned again. She hadn’t heard him give voice to that much pain since the night he’d been brought into the ER with fresh lacerations. When he was finally stretched along the length of the couch, she edged his hand away from his middle and lifted his shirt. The muscle in his jaw tightened as she carefully peeled back the bandage along the lower part of his abdomen.

  She let out a slow breath of relief when she saw that all the stitches were intact and that there was no visible blood.

  “I know that this is a dumb question, but how does it feel?”

  “Swell,” Wyatt said, his voice strained.

  “Everything looks fine, but after this initial pain passes I want you to tell me if anything feels different, okay?”

  He nodded once, just a slight motion but enough to let her know that he heard her.

  She took his hand and squeezed it. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s my fault,” Owen said from where he sat on the edge of the adjacent chair. “Sorry, man.”

  Chloe looked at her brother and saw genuine regret there. “Go to my room and get one of his pain pills.”

  “No,” Wyatt said, shaking his head.

  “Yes.” She was firm, leaving no room for argument. When her gaze met his, she saw his desire to rebel. Thankfully, he didn’t, either because he didn’t want to argue in front of her family or because he really did need the pain medicine no matter how mu
ch he wanted to avoid taking it.

  Without looking at her brothers or dad, she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, arriving back in the living room at the same time as Owen. She handed Wyatt the pain pill and for a moment he simply stared at it before popping it into his mouth. When he lifted his head, she held the glass to his lips. He swallowed then nodded, and she set the water on the coffee table.

  After a moment, Wyatt took a deeper breath.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Well, I don’t recommend getting kicked in the stomach, but I’ll live.”

  Chloe slid onto the coffee table and relaxed a little. Only then did she shift her gaze to her brothers and dad. “How’d the meeting go?” Best to move to a topic far from why she’d had her feet on Wyatt’s lap in the first place.

  “Frustrating,” her dad said as he dropped into his usual chair. “Nobody’s gotten a good look at these bastards, and their movements seem random.”

  Garrett leaned against his dad’s chair. “Simon is at a loss where to place a stakeout to try to catch them in the act.”

  “Maybe you need to set up a sort of neighborhood watch among the ranchers,” Wyatt said. “Several years ago, there was a string of cattle thefts up in Wyoming. The ranchers banded together and set up watches at all the ranches. They kept it quiet so the thieves wouldn’t get wind of it, and they caught them within a week.”

  “Not a bad idea,” her dad said. “Lot of ground to cover, but we can try.”

  “I’ll talk to Simon tomorrow,” Garrett said.

  They all chatted a few minutes more before her brothers and dad headed to bed.

  Chloe looked at where Wyatt was still lying on the couch, his forearm propped against his forehead. “You think you can make it to bed, or do you need to rest a little longer?”

  “I think I’ll just sleep here tonight.”

  “You’d be more comfortable in the bed.”

  Wyatt looked at her. “I have slept in way less comfortable places. Don’t worry so much. I’m fine.”

  “At least as fine as you can be after your doctor kicked you in the stomach.”

  “Hey, what are friends for?”

  She smiled at that. “That’s one lousy friend.”

  “Nah. I’d say you’re a pretty good one.”

  Something about the way he said those words, combined with the sincerity she saw in his eyes, touched her so deeply that she had to look away. She felt him suddenly become more important, in danger of carving out a little piece of her heart for himself. And she couldn’t allow that. They could be friends, nothing more.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, just tired. If you’re sure you’ll be okay here, I’m going to head to bed. Do you need anything from the bedroom? Pajamas?”

  He smiled. “I don’t own pajamas.”

  Heat rushed up her neck into her face at the image that popped into her head. Somehow she doubted he’d been sleeping in his shirt and jeans.

  Needing to put some distance between them, she said good-night and forced herself to walk normally to her room. But when she slipped inside the bedroom and closed the door behind her, she leaned against it and closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Wyatt Kelley needed to get well and be on his way before she started having the wrong sorts of thoughts about him, the ones that came to mind when she imagined him sleeping in her bed wearing next to nothing. Or maybe nothing at all.

  Her face heated even more at that mental picture. It’d been a long time since she’d been with a man, but being that way with Wyatt was exactly where her thoughts went. Crazy, absolutely crazy. Though they weren’t total strangers anymore, she certainly didn’t know him well enough to be thinking about having sex with him.

  Well, why not? She’d had fantasies about actors in movies. Why was that any different than a sexy cowboy she barely knew?

  Because that sexy cowboy was in the next room and making her like him more every day.

  * * *

  WYATT DIDN’T WANT to move ever again, but his bladder had different ideas. So he gritted his teeth and forced himself to a sitting position. By the time he managed that, he was pretty sure he deserved some sort of reward for not screaming. The pain pill had allowed him to rest, but it was long gone. Now he faced a day of having to resist taking another one. He’d flush them all if he didn’t think Chloe would notice.

  By the time he’d made it halfway down the hall to the bathroom, he was pretty sure he was hurting as much as he had the night the bull had tried to do him in. Still, when he thought of how Chloe had felt relaxed enough to sleep with her feet propped on his leg, he had to smile.

  When he exited the bathroom a few minutes and a few silent curses later, Chloe was standing in the hall waiting for him.

  “How do you feel this morning?”

  “Okay.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Yep, I am,” he said as he made his way past her toward the living room. At the end of the hall, he changed directions and walked into the kitchen.

  Chloe followed him, as he’d known she would. “Let me check your wounds.”

  “They’re fine. I looked while I was in the bathroom.” She didn’t need to know there was now a bruise around one end of his incision. It would just make her feel worse about what had happened.

  “I’d ask if you want another pain pill, but I already know the answer to that.” She crossed to the counter and started a pot of coffee.

  “Smart woman.”

  She opened the refrigerator. “Any special requests for dinner tonight?”

  “No, and you don’t have to cook for me.”

  “I told you—”

  “I know what you said. Why doesn’t anyone else cook or clean but you?”

  “They’re all busy, away from the house all day.”

  “So are you.”

  She closed the fridge and grabbed a bagel instead. After she popped it in the toaster, she turned and leaned back against the counter. “Old habits.”

  Something about the faraway look in her eyes told him a story more than words. “You’ve been doing this since your mother passed, haven’t you?”

  She was quiet so long that he thought she might not answer. But finally her gaze fixed on his.

  “Yeah.” She sounded surprised, as if somehow she hadn’t realized what she’d been doing for all those years.

  She looked so alone in that moment that Wyatt wanted to pull her into his arms. If he’d been standing close to her, he probably would have.

  “You were only a kid.”

  “So were my brothers, and my dad...” Her voice faltered and she looked down at the floor. “His heart broke so much that he could barely function for a while. If not for Garrett, Owen and me, I wonder if he might have never bounced back.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and glanced at him. “They really loved each other, that kind of love that only happens once.”

  “That’s why he never remarried?”

  She nodded. “He doesn’t ever talk about it, but I know he still mourns Mom. He puts fresh flowers on her grave every week.”

  An unfamiliar lump rose in Wyatt’s throat. He had no idea what that kind of love looked like. His grandparents had had a good marriage, but he’d never gotten the sense it was that epic, fairy-tale type of love that he wasn’t sure really existed in the real world. Except here Chloe was telling him that she’d seen it with her own eyes with her parents.

  It was a good thing he’d be leaving soon, before he got too close. Even if he were a different kind of man from a different family, how could he live up to what she likely expected in a man after she’d seen the kind of love her father had felt for her mother?

  He couldn’t.

  “I better get ready for work,” she said. “
Do you need anything before I go?”

  “I’m fine, Chloe. Don’t worry about me.”

  She stood and watched him for a moment. “I don’t think I know how to stop.”

  As she walked out of the room, he wished there were some way he could alleviate the weight she seemed to carry. But she was so different from him, worrying about and caring for everyone around her—family, friends, patients—while he kept his distance from people. It was just easier that way. If you didn’t care, they couldn’t hurt you.

  * * *

  CHLOE THREW HERSELF into work the moment she got to the clinic, but no matter how many patients she saw she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted in her that morning. It wasn’t as if she were unaware of how much she did for her brothers and father, but she never actively thought about it.

  But in the aftermath of her mother’s death, Chloe had seen the need for someone to fill her mother’s shoes. Even at nine years old, she’d known that person should be her. It wasn’t even that she was the only girl and thus should do the “girl” things like cooking and cleaning. It was that she’d known she would be better at them than her dad and brothers. And now that she thought about it with more than twenty years’ worth of distance, maybe some part of her had jumped into that role to deal with her own sorrow and never let go of it for fear the grief would swallow her whole. It had taken a few simple words from someone who’d just come into her life to make her see that.

  She wasn’t sure if she was thankful or resented Wyatt for showing her the truth.

  After lunch she went to do her rounds at the hospital. When she reached Ruth Carter’s room, the older woman looked so pale and thin, even more so than when Wyatt had been a patient a few doors down. The fact that Ruth was watching TV instead of knitting told Chloe how very tired the older woman was. Still, Ruth managed a small smile when she saw her.

  “Hey, there.” Chloe glanced up at the TV. “Anything good on today?”

  “Nope, but hope springs eternal.”

  Chloe smiled at that as she checked over Ruth’s chart.

  “How’s your friend doing?” Ruth asked.