Home on the Ranch: Her Cowboy Hero

by Pamela Britton

  She couldn’t help herself from dropping her gaze to his muscular legs, which were bare below the hem of the gown, at his knees. She saw more bruises running along the side of his right leg. Judging by their length, and the size of his hands grasping the arms of the wheelchair, he had to be at least six foot two of pure rock-solid masculinity. The fact that his huge feet were adorned in hospital slippers only made his male charisma more potent.

  She could sense his frustration and impatience. He was hurting, too. Besides the smile lines around his penetrating eyes, the creases around his compelling mouth were undoubtedly there because of pain.

  Sucking in her breath, she asked, “Are you taking a painkiller at the moment?”

  He lifted his head. In an instant, she felt him take her measure. “Yes.”

  “But it’s not working.”

  “No.”

  “Is that because you’re relying on ibuprofen instead of the drug your doctor prescribed?”

  “Are you a mind reader, too?” he growled.

  “No. I’ve been where you’ve been and hated to take any kind of medication. I’m afraid I’m the stubborn type, like you. I thought I could handle it.”

  “Touché.” One corner of his mouth lifted, changing his demeanor. It was a sin for a man to be this handsome. Sharon’s comment about having fun suddenly made sense.

  Well, at least he wasn’t so upset that he couldn’t respond to a little humor.

  Lily sat down in her chair. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I’d been up at the Crow’s Nest trail doing a fire lookout watch with my partner.”

  “You lucky man. I used to go up there on my horse all the time, way above Fremont Lake. In summer there’s no place like it—full of aspen groves, wildflowers and just plain jaw-dropping views.”

  “You’re right.” He sounded surprised she knew of it. “The tower sits just above Glimpse Lake. I was on my horse checking out an illegal campfire around two in the morning. After issuing the hunter some fines because, for one thing, he didn’t have a permit to hunt deer, I confiscated his rifle and then ordered him to put out his illegal fire.

  “Once he’d packed up his gear, I escorted him back to the tower, where we’d hold him until some more rangers came for him. But halfway there, my horse, Ace, stumbled over a hidden woodchuck burrow. It was so deep, I was thrown to the ground. My horse broke his leg and fell on top of me and the rifle, and was screaming in pain. The hunter took off and disappeared.”

  “You mean he just left you?” Lily gasped.

  “He couldn’t get away fast enough.”

  “I’m so sorry for your injuries.” She shook her head. “And there’s nothing worse than hearing a horse that’s in unbearable agony.”

  “It was more excruciating than my own pain.”

  “I presume Ace was your close friend.”

  He eyed her intently. “Very close. He was amazing. I called headquarters for help because I was in too much pain to walk to the tower. They sent a helicopter with another ranger to take my place. The medics had to walk part way in.

  “After a horrendous decision, we put the horse down and I was flown here. My truck and horse trailer are still up there. Among other things, I’ve got to be released so I can go after that hunter and arrest him.”

  She shuddered just thinking about it. “I don’t blame you for being impatient. Give me a minute to look at your X-rays.” She reached for the folder to study the film and read the radiologist’s comments. Then she picked up his file.

  Porter Ewing, US Forest Service.

  Date of birth: June 13. Twenty-seven, single, Caucasian, six-two, 220 pounds.

  78 West Juniper Road, Whitebark, Wyoming.

  What it didn’t say was that he had male charisma and charm no woman could be immune to.

  She put down the file. “Tell me exactly how you fell.”

  “I went flying and landed on my right hip and arm. My cheek hit a rock. For a while I couldn’t move, the pain was so bad. Finally with my left hand, I reached for my phone to make the emergency call.”

  “Have you tried walking on your own at all?”

  “This morning I was wheeled to the shower and helped to stand for the thirty seconds it took.”

  “Okay. I’ll wheel you to the bars over there.” She reached in the drawer for a gait belt and walked around behind him. His big, broad shoulders distracted her as she pushed him across the room.

  “The first thing I’m going to do is fasten this belt around your waist as a security caution.” She showed him how it worked. “If you’ll sit forward, I’ll lock it.”

  He slowly did her bidding. When Lily reached around him, her awareness of him made it hard to concentrate. This wasn’t supposed to happen when she was working with a patient. Not ever. Next, she put on the brake and adjusted the feet of the wheelchair.

  “First, I want you to put your feet out flat, like this,” she said, then demonstrated. “Good. Now, when I grip the belt on both sides of you, I want you to bend your knees and rely on your legs to stand. Don’t try to use your back. Once you’re upright, hold on to the bars while I do my exam. Ready?”

  “Let’s hope I don’t fall on you.” His eyes held a glint of amusement.

  “I’m not worried.” She slipped her hands inside his belt on either side of his body. “Now—one, two, three.”

  To her relief he got up with little problem while she gripped the belt, trapping her between him and the bars. At five foot six, she still had to look up a distance and could smell his minted breath.

  “That was perfect.” Lily let go of the gait belt and ducked under his strong arms. Standing at his side, she put her arm around his back. “I’m going to start touching you, and want to know the second you feel any pain.”

  Lily scrolled down his spine with her fingers like a cursor while she explored.

  “I felt you wince, just now.”

  “I think that was a reaction to your touch.”

  Was he teasing her despite his pain?

  She kept going until he made noise. “That gives me an idea of where your trauma is located.” Another inch and he groaned. “X marks the spot, right?”

  He nodded while the lines around his mouth deepened.

  “That was all I needed to know.” She ducked back under his arms and caught hold of the belt, breathing in the scent of the soap he’d used in the shower. “Remember to bend your legs and slowly sit down.”

  It was over in a flash. She undid the belt from around his waist and wheeled him back over to her desk. “Now that I know how I want to proceed, I’ll ask the nurse to bring you back down here later this afternoon, after I’ve seen my last scheduled patient. Have them dress you in hospital pajamas.

  “We’ll do a few exercises to start working those muscles. I could tell you to take the stronger painkillers, but I know you won’t. My greatest fear is that a stab of pain when you’re not expecting it could freeze you up. But I’ll let that be on your conscience, not mine.”

  He actually chuckled as she picked up the phone and asked the charge nurse on the orthopedic floor to send someone to take Ranger Ewing back to his room.

  After she hung up, she caught him staring at her. “How soon will I be discharged from the hospital?”

  “When you no longer require someone to help you get up and down, and you can stand and sit on your own without a gait belt,” she answered firmly. “But you’ll need a helper at home for at least a week. Perhaps your boss will give you a desk job you can do for a while.”

  “There’s no way. I’ve got to go after that suspect.”

  “I don’t blame you for being anxious, Mr. Ewing, but you have to follow through with your therapy. Starting next week, you’ll have to come three times a week for two weeks, then we’ll taper to two sessions a week. By six weeks, I’d like to think you’ll be
back to your old self.”

  He studied her so thoroughly, her pulse raced. “How long did it take you to recover from your injury?”

  She wished she hadn’t called attention to herself. “About four months.”

  “Why so long?”

  “Part of my recovery was prolonged due to an infection after the surgery,” she explained.

  “What happened to you exactly?”

  By now, Ron, one of the orderlies, who was a shameless flirt, had come in the room to take their patient back to his floor.

  “I was skiing and crashed.”

  One eyebrow lifted in surprise. “You ski now?”

  “Not anymore. See you this afternoon.”

  The orderly started to wheel the ranger out of the room. She heard Ron say, “Good luck trying to get information out of her.” Then his voice grew fainter.

  Stop talking, Ron. That was a painful period in her life she didn’t want to remember if she could help it. It was a long time ago, and so many dreams had been shattered. Since coming home to Whitebark, she’d chosen not to look back.

  In a minute, her next patient, Mr. Perry, an insurance man who’d fallen while out running, showed up. She sighed. It was going to be a full day since she needed to fit the strikingly handsome forest ranger into her schedule.

  Staying busy was the medicine she needed so she wouldn’t think about him. But that was a joke because her visceral reaction to him had been a surprise. The truth was, his nearness had stirred her senses—something that hadn’t happened to her in years. She resented it and would have to be on her guard from now on.

  Ron pushed Porter inside his room. “How did it go in physiotherapy?”

  Porter didn’t tell him what he thought about Lily, who’d come as such a surprise that he still hadn’t recovered. “I won’t start exercises until later today.”

  “The clinic does a great job. While I’m here, do you want me to help you in the bathroom?”

  “Please.”

  After Porter was wheeled in and out, he was helped into bed and left alone for a few minutes to contemplate his situation.

  Since being transferred to Wyoming a year ago from the Adirondacks in New York, where he’d been a forest ranger and state trooper, Porter realized he had landed in the best of all possible worlds. From the start he’d learned to love the Wind River Mountain Range and his assignments. It hadn’t taken long to make the best friends a man could have.

  Funny how he’d thought he’d only last a year out here. But three weeks after arriving in Whitebark, he’d texted his mother in response to her query about renting the house. He’d told her he was selling the home in Lake Placid and planned to put roots down here in Wyoming. In his text he added, The Wind Rivers is God’s country west of the Continental Divide and I never want to live anywhere else. I’m putting my roots down here.

  His mother had been surprised because she’d deeded the house to him, thinking he’d want it one day. At that point they got on the phone to talk. She assured him he could keep renting the house or do whatever he wanted with it. Since the divorce and her marriage to her new husband, who was a widower and successful businessman, she didn’t need the money from it.

  The house, his legacy, had held painful memories for Porter because of his parents’ divorce, and later on, his father’s death. He couldn’t go back to it. Hiring a Realtor to sell the house had been the right thing to do.

  Porter knew it held painful memories for her too. It was a reminder of her marriage to his father, when she’d spent ninety percent of the time alone. Because he’d been a ranger and gone so often, she’d lived in a world of isolation. He loved his parents, but they should never have married. Living their lives apart had been no way to live. His mother, who preferred life in town, finally couldn’t deal with it any longer.

  From the proceeds of the sale, he’d bought the four-bedroom ranch house with a barn and paddock the guys had found for him here in Whitebark. It had a front lawn and flower beds. He liked the wraparound porch.

  Most of all he loved the sight of Gannett Peak—the tallest peak in Wyoming—knifing up 13,804 feet in the thin atmosphere from his front yard. It always took his breath away. If Porter hadn’t been an outdoors enthusiast like his father, he would probably have become a professional mountain climber, perhaps even running a climbing school. In his spare time, he’d probably ski.

  The Wind River Mountain Range was Wyoming’s largest, containing more than forty peaks over 13,000 feet. He planned to climb all of them one day and couldn’t believe his luck in being transferred here from the Adirondacks. Though frustrated over the tragic accident that had killed his horse and incapacitated him for a little while, he had no right to complain about his life.

  While deep in thought, his buddies walked in. Cole was an elk biologist, Wyatt, a sheep rancher, and Holden, the sheriff for Sublette County, Wyoming. One way or another the four of them had become close friends because of a serial arsonist that had plagued the ranchers of Sublette County last summer. Cole had been ingenious in identifying the culprits while the rest of them had been involved fighting the fires. From then on they’d worked, camped, hiked and skied together.

  He was particularly fond of Wyatt’s new wife, Alex. Like Porter, she’d come out to Wyoming from New York, but in her case she’d been sent out here on a magazine assignment. The two had fallen hard for each other, and their attitude about fly over country had been permanently changed.

  Three of them, except Holden, were also volunteer firefighters for the Whitebark Fire Department, and all four men had been bachelors. But times had changed since then. Now, Porter was the only one not married and he was feeling it.

  His spirits lifted when he saw them. “How did you guys know I was here?”

  “News travels fast, buddy. You know that,” Cole said with a smile. “We’re sorry to hear about your accident. I talked to your boss. Stan has sent some rangers to bring your truck and trailer down to your house.”

  “I’ll have to thank him for that.”

  “We’re sorry about your horse,” Wyatt interjected.

  Porter’s eyes closed tightly for a moment. “If you could have heard Ace…he was in so much agony he had to be put down.”

  All three men commiserated. “Thank heaven you’re all right and didn’t break any bones.”

  “It was a miracle, Holden, but that vagrant needs to be caught. I’ve got to get out of here and go after him.”

  Cole sat forward. “I hear you, but the nurse said you’re going to need physiotherapy.”

  “I know. It’ll take up some of my time, but I realize it’s necessary. I hurt when I move the wrong way. My first workout will be later in the day.” The guys had no idea how eager Porter was to see Lily again.

  “That’s good. We want you back on your feet for the campout we’ve got planned for the Fourth of July next month. Tonight we’ll come over and have dinner with you. Can we bring you anything?”

  Porter’s mind was still on the pretty therapist. “Would it be possible if one of you could drop by the ranch house first? I need my laptop and toiletries.”

  Wyatt nodded. “Consider it done. Anything else?”

  “That’s more than enough.”

  An orderly from the kitchen came in the room with his lunch tray. “Why don’t you eat with me?”

  Holden stood up first. “I’ve got to get going to the jail, but we’ll be here at dinnertime.”

  “Thanks, guys. I owe you.”

  After they left, he turned on the TV and ate the chicken-fried steak. He didn’t have to be on a particular diet. The last time he remembered being in a hospital, he was eight years old getting his tonsils out.

  Though it would take a long time for him to get over the loss of his horse, he could cope. Plus his day had brightened when he realized he’d be spending time with the hospital’s physio
therapist. She had to be Whitebark’s best-kept secret.

  When he thought back over the last year, he couldn’t recall any of his friends or coworkers needing a physiotherapist. There’d been no talk of a gorgeous one working at this hospital. If Porter had a problem, it was going to be his lack of patience before going to his next therapy session.

  Maybe the accident had done something to his psyche because he’d never been this attracted to a woman in his life. Porter had dated his share of women back east and here in Whitebark, but what he did for a living was unique.

  It would take a special kind of woman who wanted to settle down with him and raise a family in rugged country like this. He hadn’t met a woman who fit the picture he’d always had in his mind.

  Until now…

  After eating, he made a phone call to Stan Fitzer at headquarters. His boss was the head of the forest service for the Bridger-Teton forest of the Wind Rivers. After giving Stan an update, he watched several documentaries on the Yellowstone volcanic caldera and another on the volcanic eruption on Mt. St. Helens in Washington State. They kept him semi-entertained, but he was counting the minutes until it was time for his first workout.

  Like clockwork, Ron came in at four. He helped him into hospital pajamas and supported him into the wheelchair. Then he wheeled him down to the clinic. Since meeting the stunning therapist, Porter wanted to know more about her.

  “Do you know why Lily has stopped skiing?” he asked the orderly. His mind was still filled with the vision of her neck-length shimmering black hair—the fragrance had reminded him of the wildflowers she’d gushed about.

  “I once tried to find out after one of the nurses told me she wasn’t married, but she keeps to herself.”

  “How long have you known her?”

  “I started working here six months ago, and she joined the hospital about three months ago,” Ron answered. “But I could never even get to first base with her.”