* * *
THAT BEACH WEEKEND with Linnea was sounding better every day. Not wanting to endure the embarrassment of facing Wyatt after her meltdown, Chloe stayed at work even longer the next day, so long in fact that her family was already in bed when she came home. She had no idea if Wyatt was still awake, but it didn’t matter. By the time she climbed the porch steps, she was too exhausted to walk the rest of the way into the house. Instead, she sank into one of the rocking chairs and closed her eyes.
Roscoe nuzzled her hand, and she wrestled up enough energy to give him a couple of scratches between his floppy ears. She’d just sit here for a few minutes, gather up enough willpower to force herself the final few feet to the couch.
She knew she’d made a mistake when she felt herself drifting toward sleep. And yet she wasn’t able to do anything to correct it. Maybe if she took a little nap...
When she woke, something was different. It took a couple of blinks for her to realize that night had given way to the dawning of another day. She’d slept all night on the porch in a rocking chair. The moment she lifted her head away from the back of the chair, her body protested its rough treatment.
Movement out of the corner of her eye turned out to be her dad sitting in the other rocking chair drinking his morning coffee.
“It’s time you stopped avoiding Wyatt,” he said in his no-nonsense way.
She started to deny it, but then he looked at her with an expression that she knew all too well. It was the same one he’d worn whenever he’d caught one of his kids in a lie, a combination of warning and disappointment.
“I know you’ve fallen for him. I recognize the signs. You look at him the same way I looked at your mother, as if you can’t imagine living another day without him.”
“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel the same way.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“He has no plans of staying. Almost every one of our disagreements has been because he can’t wait to get out of here and back on the rodeo circuit.” Back to where he stood a good chance of riding one too many bulls and either getting killed or injured beyond repair.
“He can drive now. Why hasn’t he left?”
“His truck is in town.”
“Easily remedied if he truly wanted to leave.”
She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe something I said finally sank in.”
“He’s a good man, Chloe. A lot of people are takers, but he’s not. He’s determined to help around here to pay his way.”
“And he thinks it’ll get him back atop a bull sooner.”
Her dad took another drink of his coffee and was quiet for several moments. “Maybe the boy just needs a reason to stick around other than a doctor’s orders.” He shifted his gaze back to her. “You’re always so busy taking care of everyone around you. It’s about time you did something for yourself.”
“I did, when I went to college and med school.”
Her dad was already shaking his head before she finished speaking. “That may be partially true, but I also know you did it to help out me and your brothers.” He let out a long sigh and looked out to where the sun was rising in the east. “You shouldered too much responsibility too early, and that’s my fault. I took the easy way out and let you step into your mother’s shoes. I never let you just be a normal kid, a normal teenager.”
“Dad—”
He held up his hand, stopping her. “You’ve been selfless for too long, honey. It’s time you do something selfish, go after what you want.”
As if on cue, Wyatt walked out of the barn. What was he doing out there already? Had he walked right past her sleeping on the porch?
Her dad caught the direction of her gaze. “Wyatt moved out to the room in the barn yesterday.”
“Why’d he do that when there’s a perfectly good bed inside the house?”
“Because he knew you were staying away because of him, because he was in your space.”
“He said that?”
“He didn’t have to.”
She glanced back at Wyatt just as he looked toward her. Their gazes held for a moment before she lowered hers. The kiss they’d shared indicated that Wyatt at least found her attractive, but she doubted there was anything she could do to make him stay. He’d said multiple times that rodeo was his life. And despite her fears for his safety, she didn’t have the right to ask him to give it up. It’d be the same as if he asked her to stop practicing medicine.
“I’m not butting in only for you.” Her dad nodded toward where Wyatt was heading back into the barn. “There’s an aloneness about that boy that feels almost like self-punishment. From what I’ve seen of him, he doesn’t deserve that.” He shifted his attention back to Chloe. “Neither one of you deserves to be alone.”
Chloe was stunned into silence at both her dad’s perceptiveness and the fact that he was offering relationship advice. As he stood and headed into the house, she wondered if he were thinking about her mom and how alone he’d been since her death.
Long after her dad rode off with her brothers toward the far end of the ranch, she still didn’t know what the right move was with Wyatt. Part of her wanted to march into the barn and finish what they’d started in her bedroom, but would that just make it hurt worse when Wyatt left? Or if she didn’t satisfy her yearning for him, would she regret it for the rest of her life?
Those questions were still bouncing around in her head, unanswered, when she dragged herself to yet another day of work.
She was so distracted all day that she called people by the wrong names, forgot to return phone calls, even nearly put her keys in the lock of the wrong car when she finally left for the night. Despite all that, she had almost everything ready for the wellness fair. If only figuring out the right move with Wyatt were so easy.
She started home just as the sun was sinking below the horizon. Her thoughts drifted back to her conversation with her dad that morning and how she’d wondered throughout the day how her dad had survived all these years without the woman who’d owned his whole heart. Had he endured loneliness so strong that he was able to see the same in others? Is that why he’d been able to peg Wyatt’s? And hers?
Instead of driving straight home, she turned onto Hillcrest Drive. When she walked into the cemetery a couple minutes later, she wasn’t surprised to see a fresh bouquet of pink roses in the vase on her mother’s headstone. She sank onto her knees next to the grave and ran her fingertips over the soft petals of the roses. Even after all these years, she remembered the smell of the rose-scented lotion her mother used.
“Hi, Mom.” She stared at the words on her mother’s stone, the name, the dates of birth and death, Beloved wife and mother. How she wished her mom were with her now to tell her the right path to take, to know whether opening up her heart to Wyatt was a risk worth taking.
A soft breeze stirred the ribbons on a wreath atop the next grave then wafted past Chloe’s cheeks. She imagined it was her mother’s hands caressing her.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I...care about Wyatt, even though that might sound crazy.” But it was true. From the moment she’d met him, she’d felt drawn to him as if by some otherworldly force.
Of all the men in the world, why him? Why could she not push thoughts of him out of her mind? Why was it so hard to admit that her efforts to keep him safe, her insistence that he take it easy and recover, wasn’t only because of their doctor-patient relationship. Perhaps too much had to do with the fact that she simply didn’t want him to leave.
It was as if the two halves of herself were locked in a battle of wills—one half yearning to give in to her attraction, the other afraid that if she did she’d end up as hurt and alone as her father.
She looked at the words Beloved wife etched into the stone and realized that it would have been a lot sadder if
her parents had not ever allowed themselves to be together for fear of eventually being hurt. They’d had a good marriage, had loved each other very much, had made a lot of wonderful memories together. She doubted her dad regretted one moment of those years when he’d still had the woman he loved, that he wouldn’t give it up in exchange for the assurance he’d never have to grieve.
Chloe’s breath caught in her throat. The absolute certainty that she’d regret it if Wyatt left without her being honest with him hit her so hard it almost knocked her over. She placed her hand atop the stone and smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”
She ran back to her car, suddenly very scared that she’d waited too long, that she’d missed her opportunity.
Chapter Thirteen
Wyatt shoved the last of his clean laundry into his bag and jerked the zipper shut. No matter what he’d done all day, he couldn’t rid himself of the frustration and anger that were fighting for dominance within him. Frustration that he hadn’t been able to hold Chloe in his arms again and anger that he even wanted to.
He knew her pulling away was for the best, and he ought to be thanking her. After all, there could be nothing between them long-term. She was a good, loving person from a good, hardworking family. He could only imagine how she’d react if she knew that he was the only offspring of convicted felons.
So in the morning, he would ask her dad or one of her brothers for a ride into town. He’d get in his truck and drive away until Blue Falls was nothing but a memory and the place where he owed a rather large medical bill. He’d leave Chloe free to find a man who was good enough for her, who could make her as happy as she deserved to be, one who didn’t frustrate her like he did.
Unable to stand still, he left his temporary living quarters and walked out of the back of the barn and through the gate that led out into the cattle pasture. It was getting dark, but it felt way better to be out under the emerging stars than in that cramped room.
He ambled up the hill that rose as the ranch stretched off to the west. He wondered what it would be like to be as attached to a piece of land as the Brodys obviously were to their home. Though he called Laramie home, he could barely remember a time when he’d lived in one place more than two or three months at a stretch. He found himself wishing he could know, just once, how it felt to have a place be so important that it was like a part of him.
He stopped and looked out across the land, though he couldn’t make out much in the dark now. Except...there was movement down by the fence. He strained to see more clearly. Instead he heard hushed voices. He glanced over his shoulder and realized he’d walked farther than he’d thought. The lights of the house were no longer visible.
Careful not to make noise, he eased down the hill toward where he saw dark shapes moving against a darker background. He knew in his gut what he was going to find even before he saw more movement in the field then heard the sound of cattle hooves shuffling against the ground.
“What was that?”
This time, Wyatt heard the words clearly and realized he’d been seen. In the next moment, he heard a slap then the cattle started moving toward the fence. Only Wyatt suspected the fence was cut. The figure in the field started running.
Oh, hell no. These bastards weren’t getting away with this, not again. Regardless of the pain it caused him, Wyatt hurried toward the cut in the fence. He cursed as he tripped. He managed to right himself before he fell, but the pain ripping through him stole his breath. He was forced to take a few moments to let the pain recede enough that he could move again.
He heard two car doors shut, one after the other, and then a motor start. Damn, they were going to get away.
Wyatt saw cattle stepping through the fence and got an idea. Pushing past the pain, he went against common sense and slapped several cows on their rears, urging them into the road, cutting off one means of escape. He hurried after them, skidding to a stop in the middle of the road. Right at that moment, headlights approaching from the opposite direction bathed everything in light. Unfortunately, the driver of the getaway truck laid down on his horn and lurched forward, causing the cattle to scatter out of his way.
“No!” Wyatt ran after the truck until he doubled over with the pain.
The car behind him thankfully stopped before he got pancaked.
“Wyatt?”
He held his stomach as he turned toward the sound of Chloe’s panicked voice. She ran toward him, and when he saw the fear on her face something slipped into place inside him like a long-lost puzzle piece that finally found its way into the right spot. She nearly collided with him, only pulling herself up short at the last moment.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” She grabbed his upper arm and scanned him from head to toe.
“I’m fine. Hurt like hell, but I’m not going to spill my guts in the middle of the road.” He glanced toward the cattle milling about. “We’ve got to get these cows out of the road before someone else comes along and hits one.”
She didn’t argue, but instead hurried alongside him while she called the house for backup. They flanked the cattle and herded them back toward the cut fence. Every time he thought they were about to drive them all in the right direction, one or two would slip off the wrong way. His middle was hurting so much he thought he might throw up. He’d been healing well lately, but running and herding cows on foot weren’t exactly on the approved list of activities yet.
He heard the sound of approaching hooves down the road and turned to see Chloe’s brothers approaching on horseback, followed by their dad in his truck. With their help, it only took a few more minutes to get the cattle back on the correct side of the fence. As soon as they were safely corralled, Mr. Brody pulled a roll of barbed wire and a toolbox out of the bed of his truck, and he, Owen and Garrett got to work stringing new fencing.
Spent, Wyatt grabbed hold of the side of the truck to keep from giving in to the urge to bend double. Instead, he gritted his teeth and managed to bring his breathing under control.
“I need to get you back to the house,” Chloe said as she came to stand in front of him.
“In a minute.”
“What were you doing out here anyway?”
“Went for a walk. Happened upon this, and it was too far to go back for help.”
“Wish I’d seen them instead,” Garrett said, anger evident in his voice. “I would have been hard-pressed not to run them over.”
“They’re getting bolder,” Mr. Brody said. “They’ve never cut a fence this close to a house before. Did you happen to see what they were driving?”
For the first time all day, Wyatt smiled. “Better. I got the license plate number.”
Everyone stood still for a moment before Owen hooted and they all started laughing.
When Chloe pulled up in front of the house a few minutes later, Wyatt felt as if someone had whacked him across the stomach with a two-by-four. By the time he managed to scoot himself out of her car, she was already there for him to lean on.
“I’m fine,” he said.
“And my name’s Thelma Lou.”
“Nice to meet you, Thelma.”
“Oh, hush.” She grabbed his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder then headed for the front porch steps.
He stopped. “I think you’re going the wrong way.”
“Nope. You’re sleeping in the house tonight instead of that awful bunk in the barn.”
“It’s not awful. I’ve slept in worse.”
“I don’t care if you’ve slept on a bed of nails before. There’s no sense in you sleeping out there when there’s a perfectly good bed in the house.”
“A bed that belongs to you.”
Chloe opened her mouth to argue again, but he pressed his finger to her lips. With a sigh, she gave up but didn’t release him. Rather, she simply changed directions and escorted him to the barn.
The moment they stepped into his small room, she froze. “You’re leaving?”
“It’s time.”
“But your injuries, they’re not healed all the way. And you probably did more damage tonight.”
Wyatt broke contact with Chloe and walked to the opposite side of the small room. “I’ve imposed on your family’s hospitality long enough.”
“It’s not imposing if I invited you.”
“Chloe, it’s obvious that I wore out my welcome days ago.”
“That’s not true.”
“So you ignore all your guests?”
“I...” She seemed at a loss for words, and he could almost see the frantic search for them going on in her pretty head. And then she lifted her gaze to his. “I don’t want you to go.” She swallowed. “Not yet.”
Damn if his heart didn’t skip a beat. Standing there staring at her, he wanted to forget all the reasons why he couldn’t have her.
She took a tentative step toward him, then another, and he couldn’t find the willpower to stop her. “Please let me check to make sure you didn’t reinjure yourself.”
Of course, she never stopped being the concerned doctor. What had he thought she meant to do when she reached him?
He obliged by lifting the edge of his shirt. He stared over the top of her head as she examined his wounds, but his breath caught when her hand lingered on his stomach. Wyatt lowered his gaze just as she lifted hers. The last of his willpower fled like a leaf on a gusty breeze, and he lifted his hand to frame her face.
“Are my injuries the only reason you don’t want me to leave?”
Chloe swallowed then licked her lips. He imagined he could see a battle going on in her eyes.
The Doctor's Cowboy Page 14