“Let me guess, horse accident?”
“She fell off and dislocated her right shoulder yesterday, and then earlier today, she took a pretty hard kick to her left thigh.”
“He’s totally overreacting,” Regan groused as the doctor helped her into the wheelchair.
“I’ll be the judge of that, and a dislocated shoulder is nothing to mess with,” the doctor admonished.
“I had one before. It was fine after a few days.”
“Well, then you do need to have it checked.”
Tripp started to follow them inside until the doctor jerked his head toward the truck.
“You can’t park there.”
Tripp bit back a protest. “I’ll be right back.”
He thought he heard Regan reply, “Take your time,” but the doors swished closed after them. How the hell was he the bad guy for wanting to make sure she was okay? He moved the truck a whole fifty yards to the empty parking lot and hustled back inside. Regan was at the admittance desk talking to a nurse.
“Of course I don’t have my insurance card with me. Does it look like I’m carrying a purse?”
The nurse’s eyes narrowed and Tripp hurried forward. “She’s a little tired,” he explained, flashing an apologetic smile to the woman while placing a warning hand on Regan’s shoulder. “You can just bill me.”
Regan shrugged his hand off as he gave the nurse his information and signed his name on a form stating he agreed to pay for all services provided. After Regan gave her personal information, another nurse came to whisk her away for X-rays.
Tripp cooled his heels in the waiting area. A half hour later he went for a cup of coffee just for something to do. When the minute hand marked an hour, he returned to the reception desk to ask the nurse if Regan was back yet. Not a single other patient was in sight, so what the heck could be taking so long?
The admittance nurse strolled down the hall, apparently in no hurry to get him an answer. Fifteen minutes later, as his impatience began to skyrocket along with his worry, she returned and motioned him forward. She directed him down the hall toward room nine.
Laughter sounded as Tripp approached. He stopped in the doorway at the sight of the doctor—a damn good-looking doctor Tripp noticed all of a sudden—sitting on the side of Regan’s bed with a hand on her knee.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Her laughter subsided, but not her smile. The doctor’s smile remained as he glanced over his shoulder at the sound of Tripp’s voice. Jealousy shot through Tripp, and he tightened his grip on the doorframe.
Dr. Lynden patted Regan’s knee and stood up to face Tripp. “Mr. Warner, you’ll be happy to know Reggie’s going to be just fine after a couple days rest. Her shoulder doesn’t appear to require surgery, and while the bruise on her leg is a doozy, it’s not broken.”
“Doctor, really, is ‘doozy’ a medical term?” Regan asked with a grin.
Despite his relief she was okay, Tripp’s jaw clenched as the two shared another laugh. Then Regan turned her beautiful smile toward him—only it became a smirk.
“I told you I was fine.”
“Give the guy a break, Reggie,” Dr. Lynden admonished as he made his way around the end of the bed. “He was right to bring you in. Now hold tight for a little bit and Lynnette will be back to fit you with a stylish new sling and give you your release papers.” He stopped next to Tripp and lowered his voice. “Complete rest for at least five days, then bring her back in so I can recheck to be certain her shoulder won’t need surgery. The nurse will give you my card to make an appointment with my office. If you have any concerns or questions, don’t hesitate to call.”
Tripp kept his resentment in check and nodded.
“You’ll need to watch her tonight. After the X-rays, we gave her some hydrocondone, that’s a prescription-strength pain reliever, and while she doesn’t seem to be in much pain anymore, she does come across as slightly intoxicated.”
Oh, Lord. That explained the grin on her face now. But it was better than the annoyed frown from earlier. He finally relaxed and offered the doc a slight smile. “I’ll take care of her.”
While they waited for the nurse to return, Tripp took the doctor’s place on the edge of the bed. “How you feeling, Princess?”
“Like I had more brandy.” Her grin widened. “Hey—you wanna see my bruise?”
Another visual reminder of how he’d let her get hurt? He grimaced. “Not real—”
She flipped up the hem of her hospital gown, revealing a smooth thigh stamped with an almost perfectly shaped hoof print colored bluish-black. “It’s kinda pretty, ain’t it?”
“If you say so. Though you might feel differently tomorrow.”
“Probably.” She sighed dramatically, but just as fast perked up again. “I’ll enjoy it while I can. In fact—you’ll have to carry me again when we get home.”
“No problem.”
He brushed a stray curl behind her ear, then cupped her cheek as his chest swelled with love. Regan Mallory Reed was one in a million.
The nurse bustled through the door. “We’ll have you fixed up in a jiffy, sweetie. I even brought you some scrubs and a button up shirt to wear instead of those dirty clothes of yours.” She glanced at Regan’s things piled on a chair. “Although, sorry, can’t do nothin’ ‘bout those boots.”
“It’s okay,” Regan said. She motioned the nurse closer and stage whispered, “Tripp’s gonna carry me to bed.”
Tripp was subjected to a blatant once over—twice.
“My, my, aren’t you a lucky gal,” the nurse murmured as his face warmed.
In no time, they were back in the truck headed home. Regan fell asleep almost immediately and Tripp took the opportunity to call Ernesto to let him know everything had turned out okay. The main house lights were blazing when he pulled up to the porch, but considering it was almost five a.m., he wasn’t surprised.
Nana, Ernesto and Ana all hurried outside as he gently closed the driver side door. Holding up a hand for quiet, he opened Regan’s door. He had to shift her around before lifting her into his arms without squeezing her injured shoulder against his chest. She mumbled and snuggled closer. Ana held the front door open and Tripp carried Regan upstairs.
Nana swept back the covers so he could lay her on the bed. “She looks so pale,” she whispered.
“She’s as strong as Mason,” Tripp declared softly. Nana sniffed beside him and Tripp saw tears in her eyes. He put an arm around her shoulders. “The doctor said she’ll be fine.”
Nana nodded, but stepped away. “I’ll go help Ana make some tea.”
Tripp watched her go, then turned back to see Regan watching him with a sleepy smile. “Home sweet home,” she said.
“That it is,” he agreed softly.
Her lashes fluttered, drooped, then opened again. “And you carried me to bed.”
“Yes,” he confirmed, drawing up the covers to tuck around her shoulders. “So you could rest. Now go back to sleep.”
She smiled as her eyes closed. He leaned to kiss her forehead.
“That’s just one of the reasons why I love you, Tripp. You take such good care of me.”
His heart nearly stopped beating, then took off twice as fast as normal. Swallowing hard, he eased back to look into her eyes—which were still closed. He sat on the bed with a rueful grin. She’d fallen back asleep, just as he ordered. True to form, she picked the worst time ever to start listening.
Had she meant the words for real, or were they just the affect of the painkiller?
After a moment, he sighed, rose, and tugged the blanket a little higher. He wouldn’t get an answer now anyway. Let her sleep while he checked on Mason and maybe catch a little shut-eye himself. They’d have plenty of time to talk over the next couple days. After one more brush of his lips across her soft skin, he turned for the door.
And pulled up short at the sight of Nana grinning from ear to ear in the doorway.
He tried to frown as he wa
ved her into the hall, but a smile broke free anyway. “I thought you were going to make tea.”
“You’ve got some explaining to do, boy.”
Tripp shook his head and led her downstairs. “All in good time, Nana, all in good time.”
He left her sputtering in the foyer as he made his getaway outside.
“Tripp Judson Warner.”
His boot halted on the second porch step, and he swung around with his brows raised. “Yes, ma’am?”
Hands fisted on her hips, Nana scowled at him. “Do you love her?”
Tripp cast a quick glance around and was relieved to see they were alone. “I’d really like the chance to tell her before I tell you.”
She nodded without breaking her frown, but her eyes twinkled. “Fair enough.”
When she turned to go into the house, he took a deep breath and forced himself to speak. “Nana?”
She turned around.
“Did Dad ever happen to say why he didn’t come after me? I mean, if he knew he was dying and took the time to get everything else in order, why not contact me?” He swallowed hard. “Did he hate me that much?”
Nana’s eyes widened, and she stepped closer to lay her hand over his white-knuckled grip on the porch railing.
“No, Tripp, of course he didn’t hate you.” She looked out across the yard with a sigh before meeting his gaze once more. “I wish I knew what to say to you. It’s the one thing I still don’t understand. All I can tell you is back when you first left, he changed his will to leave it all to me and Reggie. It wasn’t until after he’d passed that I found out he’d changed it again. I had hoped he would’ve left you a letter, but the end came very suddenly. I’d like to think he thought he had more time.”
Tripp considered her words before giving a nod of resignation.
Nana hugged him, then stood back to regard him shrewdly. “You’re not angry anymore.”
“No, I’m not,” he confirmed solemnly. “After getting to know Regan out there, and thinking everything through with a clear head for the first time, I think I’m past it. Things worked out for the best, with her staying here with you and Dad, without her mother’s influence.”
“She was a horrible woman,” Nana agreed. “Barely patted Reggie’s head on her way out the door. And Reggie, the poor girl pretended she didn’t care, but I heard her cry herself to sleep for weeks after. I’m grateful your leaving had one positive result, I just wish you’d come home sooner.”
He wasn’t so sure about that part himself anymore. “Everything happens for a reason.”
“I ‘spose you’re right.” Nana turned to head back inside.
“Hey, don’t you dare say one word to Regan, you hear me?” Tripp called after her. He waited for her nod before continuing down the steps to check on Mason.
The stallion stood on the far side of the arena, looking out over the fence. Someone had thrown a couple flakes of hay inside the enclosure, but even though he hadn’t had anything to eat in the past two days between getting tangled up and the trip back to the ranch, Mason hadn’t touched the food.
Tripp walked around the arena fence, talking in a low voice as he got closer. One ear flicked forward for a split second, otherwise the horse ignored him. Regan was right, he did look different. Tripp hoped it was just that he was still tired. In another day or so, he’d perk up.
****
Standing in the shower later, after a couple hours of sleep, Tripp made a decision on something that’d crossed his desk a few months ago. A proposal he’d found himself thinking about since the news of his father’s death, and seriously considering for the past twenty-four hours. He worked out the details in his mind as he dressed, then went down to the office to put the plan in motion.
Settling into his father’s leather desk chair, Trip dialed a number and then found himself counting. His call was answered by the fourth ring, and he asked to speak to Gary Peterson.
“Tripp,” Gary said cautiously. “Good to hear from you.”
“You mean that?”
“Of course. What can I do for you?”
“Listen, I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’ve given some thought to your offer, and find myself in the position of wanting to do you one better.”
After a moment of shocked silence in which Tripp imagined the other man sitting up in his chair, Gary said, “You’ve got my attention.”
“I’d like a partner, Gary. Someone to not only invest in the business, but to run things side by side with a CEO I appoint so I can pursue other interests.”
“A CEO you appoint...so, not you?”
“Not me.”
“You’d be a silent partner?”
“More of a long distance partner. For the first five years, I keep the deciding vote at fifty-one percent, but after that we’ll discuss an equal fifty-fifty split.”
Another pause. “I don’t know what to say. I didn’t expect this after your response to my original offer.”
Probably because Tripp had basically told the guy to go to hell. He chuckled. “Neither did I, but I’ve recently relearned life can change on a dime. I’ve done my homework and must say I’m impressed with what I found out about your business dealings. I wouldn’t offer this to just anyone.”
“Thank you. You mind if I take some time to think about it?”
“No problem. I don’t need an answer right away. I’ll have my office draw up an overview of the proposal so you can look it over. If it were me, I’d insist on a complete review of the financials first, so I’ll tell them to send over whatever else you’d like to see. If you decide to accept, we’ll get together to fine tune the details.”
He gave the number where Gary could reach him with an answer and hung up, then dialed his office in Galveston to get things rolling on his end. After a couple hours spent on the phone and his laptop, Tripp finally closed the office door on business and went to check on Regan. She was still sleeping.
Much as he would’ve loved to wake her up so they could talk, she obviously needed the rest, so he went back downstairs to find Ernesto and familiarize himself with the workings of the ranch again.
As they walked through the barn, Tripp asked Ernesto if his father had ever given a reason for not going after his son. They’d been best friends, surely they’d talked? Ernesto shook his head sadly and told him they argued about it once, the day after Tripp left, and Judd had warned him never to bring it up again.
He and Ernesto worked late and were up early the next morning to help unload a semi-trailer of hay into the barn. Then the vet arrived to change Mason’s bandage before Tripp could stop by Regan’s room, so it was late afternoon before he was able to head upstairs.
Country music echoed down the hall, leading him to her room. Peeking in, he saw her sitting in bed, surrounded by a laptop, a couple books and CDs, and a player on the nightstand. She hadn’t heard him over the music, so he leaned a shoulder against the doorframe to watch her type one-handed while he got a firm hold on a sudden attack of nerves.
She’d had a shower he saw; her hair gleamed in the braid that either Ana or Nana must’ve done for her. Although she still wore a sling for her shoulder, healthy color once again tinted her cheeks, and she was more beautiful than ever.
“How are you feeling?” he finally asked.
With a start of surprise, she glanced up, smiled, then quickly looked back down. “I’m fine. Hi.”
“Hi yourself.”
She closed the laptop and shifted it to the far side of the bed as he pushed away from the doorway to enter the room. The books followed the laptop, all arranged just so, and last, she picked up the CDs. When he noticed she was alphabetizing them, he had to hold back a grin.
She appeared as nervous as he felt.
He turned off the music before taking a seat on the bed. “I was beginning to worry about you.”
She smiled briefly, but still avoided his gaze while fiddling with the CD cases. “Those painkillers really knocked me out. One minute I�
��m in the hospital, the next I’m waking up to breakfast in bed from Grandma this morning. She said I slept all day yesterday?”
Tripp grinned. “Sure did. Sleeping Beauty in need of a kiss from her Prince, only Nana wouldn’t let me bring your horse up the stairs.”
She shook her head and rolled her eyes, even though her cheeks turned an endearing shade of pink. Then she gave him a hesitant, embarrassed half-smile. “I was talking goofy again at the hospital, wasn’t I?”
“You were cute,” he corrected.
Finally setting the CDs aside, she leaned her head back with a groan. “I knew it. Darn it, I was hoping that was a dream.”
“What else do you remember?” He meant it to be a casual question, but it came out low and serious.
Regan cringed. “Why? Did I do something stupid?”
He cleared his throat as his pulse raced. “No.”
Her gaze searched his intently, but before either of them could say anything, there was a rap on the door and Nana leaned in.
“Hal Owens is here to have you two sign papers for the ranch. Mind if we come in?”
Tripp rose, frustrated at being interrupted after barely a few minutes with her. After two endless days, he’d hoped to find out if she’d meant what she whispered when he laid her in her bed the other morning.
“It’s a little late for a house call, Hal.”
Nana frowned, and Hal ignored him. “How are you, Reggie?”
“Besides feeling like a broken record, I’m fine.”
“Good, good.” He set his briefcase on Regan’s writing desk and withdrew some papers. “I called earlier to verify the conditions of the will had been met and Rosie invited me out to see for myself. Since I was here, I figured we could get things taken care of right away.”
He gave the pen and paper to Tripp first. Tripp read it, signed where indicated and handed them to Regan with a smile. She quickly focused on the documents in her lap and maneuvered awkwardly to sign as best she could with her right hand still in the sling.
When she was done, Hal took the papers and slid them back in his briefcase. “Congratulations to the both of you. I’ll send an official copy once I file the papers. Have a good evening.”
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