Читать книгу The Surgeon's Christmas Baby - Marin Thomas - Страница 11
ОглавлениеHannah stood at her bedroom window and watched hay bales sail out of the barn loft. She was grateful that Alonso had offered to help and embarrassed that he’d witnessed the drama between her and Luke.
True to his word, her brother had crawled into bed as soon as he’d gone into the house. Luke was a spoiled brat and she accepted much of the blame for his self-centeredness. She’d always felt sorry for him, because Ruth had neglected him. Then, when Luke was old enough to do guy things with their father, Joe had chosen to spend his free time with a can of beer rather than his son. So Hannah had babied Luke and now she was paying the price.
The tears she’d held back all day dripped down her cheeks. She wiped the moisture away, assuming her weepiness was the result of exhaustion and worry. She returned downstairs, grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and, ignoring the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, she went out to the barn. Halfway there she froze when she caught a glimpse of Alonso’s bare chest. He’d taken his shirt off and his skin glistened with sweat, the muscles rippling when he heaved a bale over his head. The sight of all that masculinity set off an explosion of feminine twinges—erotic little aches that she hadn’t experienced in a long, long while.
He disappeared from the hayloft window, then a moment later walked out of the barn, his T-shirt hanging from his jeans pocket. “Almost done.” He began picking the bales up off the ground and placing them on the flatbed. The words US Army were tattooed above an image of eagle wings and a snake coiled around a rod. He hadn’t lied about being a military doctor.
She held out the water bottle.
“Thanks.” He guzzled the drink, then sucked in a deep breath.
It was none of her business, but she asked, “How long were you in the Army?”
“I did one tour in Afghanistan before I returned to civilian life.”
“Are you originally from New Mexico?”
“Born and raised in Albuquerque.” He lifted the bottom of his T-shirt and wiped the sweat off his face. “What about you?”
“Born and raised in Paradise.” Four generations of Bucks had lived on the ranch outside the small town—population just a little over two thousand. “My great-grandfather bought this land.” But it was Hannah’s grandfather who had made most of the improvements—digging the water wells and starting up a bison herd. Sadly her father had run it into the ground.
“Anything else I can help with before I take off?”
“No.” She motioned to the flatbed. “You’ve done plenty, thanks.”
His eyes shifted to the house. “Is your brother okay?”
She refused to make excuses for Luke. “He’s sleeping off his hangover.”
“Does he drink often?”
Was Alonso asking as a doctor or just a guy she’d picked up hitchhiking? “He sneaked a can of beer once in a while before our father died. But last night he got caught binge drinking with a friend.”
She waited for Alonso to lecture her on the evils of alcohol consumption, which sadly she was all too familiar with. Instead, he said, “Pull your truck over here and I’ll hook it up to the trailer, then you drive and I’ll cut the bales and drop them where you tell me to.”
She wanted to refuse his help but swallowed her pride. Once Alonso hitched the trailer to the pickup, he walked up to the driver’s-side window. “Blow the horn when you want me to toss a bale.”
She handed him the wire cutters and work gloves she kept in the truck. After he climbed onto the trailer, she drove off, slowing down when she left the dirt road and entered the pasture. She honked every ten yards. Halfway through her route the bison came over a ridge. After Alonso threw the last bale onto the ground she put the truck into Park and got out.
He hopped off the trailer. “I’ve never seen bison up close. They’re pretty impressive animals.”
“My great-grandfather raised cattle. It was my grandfather who switched to bison after he lost an entire herd to disease.” She smiled. “Have you ever eaten bison meat?”
“Nope.”
“We sell our bison to gourmet food markets, but once in a while a dude ranch will ask to buy one of the animals to keep as a pet. Tourists get a kick out of seeing them.”
“How many do you have?”
“My grandfather kept a herd of three hundred then my father decreased it to two hundred, and right now I have a hundred and fifty.” She’d had to sell thirty head to cover the back taxes. Once the ranch was in better financial shape, she intended to grow the herd again.
“Ready when you are.” He got in on the passenger side and the musky scent of male sweat and faded cologne filled the cab. She turned the truck around and drove back through the pasture. “I would have been doing this in the dark tonight if you hadn’t offered to help.”
“You don’t have any ranch hands working for you?”
“I can’t afford to pay one. If Luke would stay out of trouble and do his share of the chores, we’d manage fine.”
“Luke mentioned both your parents are gone.”
Gone sounded temporary, not permanent like dead. Maybe that was how soldiers viewed fatalities in the Army. His comrades never died—they were just gone. “Our father passed away in a horseback-riding accident and Luke’s mother died in a car crash.”
“Must be rough, handling all this on your own.”
“It’s been challenging.” She parked next to the barn. “You should stay for supper.” Hannah decided it would be best if she and Luke had a buffer between them for a while—otherwise they might say something they’d regret. “There’s a cot in the storage room in the barn. You can sleep in there tonight, then leave in the morning.”
Luke would love it if Alonso hung around and did the rest of his chores for him. But that wasn’t why Hannah had extended the invite. She hadn’t been involved with anyone since Seth, and Alonso reminded her of how lonely she was for male attention.
“I could use a good night’s sleep and a warm meal.”
She opened her mouth to ask where he was headed then changed her mind. Come morning Alonso would gone.
* * *
“MY SISTER SAID you’re staying the night.”
“I’ll head out in the morning at first light.”
“You don’t have to clean the horse stalls.”
“Someone has to do it.” Alonso tossed a clump of soiled hay toward the wheelbarrow.
Luke climbed the ladder to the loft and sat, legs dangling above Alonso’s head. Obviously the kid would rather watch than help. No wonder Hannah was miffed at her brother.
“Where will you go when you leave here?” Luke asked.
“I’m not sure. I don’t have any place in mind.” He pointed to the wheelbarrow. “Lend me a hand, will you?”
“And do what?”
Alonso set the pitchfork aside and dragged a hay bale over to a stall, then dropped the wire cutters on top of it. “Spread clean hay in the stalls I’ve already cleaned.”
Luke took his time climbing down from the loft. “A marine recruiter came to our school at the beginning of the year,” he said, tugging on a pair of work gloves. “He made his job sound like fun. Is it?”
“I wouldn’t use the word fun to describe my experience.”
“Where were you stationed?”
“I spent a month at Fort Hood in Killeen, Texas, before shipping out to Afghanistan.”
“Did any of your friends get killed in Afghanistan?”
Man, the kid was nosy. The doctors and nurses at the hospital tiptoed around the subject and pretended he’d spent time on an exotic island, not in a war-ravaged country. “Three of my friends were killed over there.”
And the hell of it was Alonso had just saved their lives after a roadside bomb had taken out their Humvee. No one expected them to get blown to pieces in the recovery room when an Afghan medic-in-training detonated a bomb strapped to his chest.
“I thought the war was over.”
“It is, but there are still crazies running loose in the country.” Alonso didn’t want to talk about his military experience. “You almost done with that stall?”
“Yeah.”
“Grab another bale and finish this one.”
Luke did as he was told. “You got a girlfriend?”
“Don’t have time for one.” That was what he told his coworkers, but after everything he’d been through, he decided nothing good lasts, so it made no sense wasting his energy on a serious relationship.
“Don’t you like girls?”
“I like girls fine.” He chuckled. “You always so nosy?”
“I guess. It’s just that this place is boring.”
“What do you do to keep busy?”
“Not much. My sister doesn’t like my friends.”
Alonso’s mother hadn’t approved of his school friends but she hadn’t understood that a brainiac kid didn’t stand a chance in hell of surviving in the barrio if he didn’t have buddies to defend him. Alonso’s best friends had made sure he hadn’t been picked on or targeted by gangs.
In the end it had been Cruz’s rebellious behavior that had got all three kicked out of school and enrolled in a special program to earn their GED. To this day Alonso believed he’d never have become a doctor if he hadn’t had the support of their teacher, Maria Alvarez—now Fitzgerald. Things had worked out for him and Vic. Not so much for Cruz—he’d landed in jail. “Maybe you should make new friends.”
Luke ignored Alonso’s suggestion and asked, “If you’re a doctor, why are you hitchhiking? Don’t you have a car?”
“I have a pickup back at my apartment in Albuquerque.” He pushed the wheelbarrow past Luke. “I guess I didn’t feel like driving.”
“You’re crazy.”
Luke wasn’t the only one who thought Alonso was an idiot. When he’d told his coworkers he’d needed a break from the ER they hadn’t expected him to hitchhike across New Mexico. “Exercise is good for the brain.”
“Then, run on a treadmill.”
Running in place didn’t work. After Alonso left Afghanistan and returned to the States, he’d believed he’d put all the death and destruction behind him. But more of the same had awaited him in the hospital. “You have any hobbies, kid?”
“My dad taught me how to use a shotgun. I like shooting at targets.”
Alonso caught Luke staring into space. “It’s tough losing both parents.”
“It’s not that hard. My dad was a drunk.”
Alonso had only just met the teen but he felt a special kinship with Luke. Alonso’s father had taken off before he’d entered kindergarten, and he wasn’t even sure if his old man was still alive. Once in a while he wondered what his life would have been like if his father had stuck around.
Luke leaned against the side of the stall. “What about you? What did you do with your dad?”
“My father wasn’t involved in my life.”
“Did you do stuff with your mom?”
“Not really. My mom worked two jobs. It was mostly just me and my sisters.”
“Did you guys fight all the time?”
“No.”
Luke laughed. “Yeah, right. You were best friends.”
“There were times when my sisters drove me nuts and I wanted to pick fights with them, but I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“One of them has asthma and if she gets upset she can’t breathe.” Alonso lost count of the times he or his mother had dialed 911 when Lea had trouble breathing. If they’d had health insurance his sister might have gotten the medicine and inhalers she’d needed to stay healthy, but too often her prescriptions went unfilled because there wasn’t any money to pay for them.
“That must have sucked,” Luke said.
What had sucked was being forced to stay home from school and take care of Lea, because his mother couldn’t miss work. After a while the school refused to excuse his absences and had expelled him.
“How old is your sister?” Alonso asked.
“Twenty-six. She thinks she can tell me what to do all the time.”
“Are you talking about me?”
Alonso glanced over his shoulder, surprised Hannah had sneaked up on them. He hadn’t heard her footsteps on the gravel drive.
“It’s true,” Luke said. “You bully me all the time.”
“Hey, I’m your guardian. I have to ride herd on you, or you’ll end up in a heap of trouble one day.”
Hoping to prevent an argument, Alonso said, “We’re finished with the stalls. What other chores need to be done?”
“Can you drive a tractor?” she asked.
Luke rolled his eyes. “She wants you to cut the hay.”
“If it doesn’t get cut soon, the cooler night temperatures will cause mold to grow and ruin the crop.”
“I can handle a tractor,” Alonso said. He’d had the opportunity to drive different military vehicles while stationed in Afghanistan—how hard could a tractor be?
“We’ve got a couple hours of daylight left. Enough time to cut half the field.”
“Sure.”
“I’ll hook the side rake up to the tractor. I can follow you in the baler.” She glanced at her brother. “I need you to stack the bales as they exit the baler.”
“Whatever.” Luke marched off.
“I can put up with your gnarly attitude any day as long as you’re willing to help.” Hannah followed her brother out of the barn. Fifteen minutes later, the three of them stood in the driveway next to the equipment.
“I’ll ride with Alonso in the tractor,” Hannah said. “Luke, you drive the baler out to the field. After I show Alonso which direction to cut the hay, I’ll take over driving the baler while Luke stacks the hay.”
An hour later, Alonso was making his third turn around the perimeter of the field. Hannah followed at a distance, Luke stacking the square bales in neat sections on the flatbed.
The work was monotonous but peaceful. Out here he didn’t have to worry about someone blowing himself up or a young gangbanger staggering into the ER with a bullet in his chest. Alonso checked the side mirrors and saw Luke signaling him. When the baler caught up, Hannah got out from behind the wheel and approached the tractor.
“We’re losing daylight, so we’ll stop here. Thanks again for helping us out this afternoon.”
“I enjoyed it.”
“You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?”
“Why would I lie?”
Hannah shouted over her shoulder, “Hey, Luke! Alonso likes driving the tractor.”
“He’s crazy!”
She smiled. “Oh, well, it was worth a shot.”
Alonso’s breath caught in his throat. This was the first time Hannah’s eyes sparkled, and he caught himself returning her smile.
“We’ll leave the baler out here and take the tractor to the house. Let’s head home and eat.” Hannah drove while Luke and Alonso crowded in beside her.
“You don’t really like cutting hay,” Luke said.
“Sure I do.”
“I bet it’s not as exciting as being in the military.”
“Depends on your definition of excitement.” Alonso despised movies that glorified war and made superheroes out of men and women who were ordinary people marching off to work each day. “But I get where all this might become a little boring if you grew up with it.”
Luke poked Hannah’s shoulder. “My sister loves working seven days a week all year long. But I don’t want to be a rancher.”
Hannah kept her eyes on the path. The rigid set of her shoulders told Alonso that she’d had this conversation before with her brother.
Alonso sympathized with the teen. He doubted Luke had had much excitement in his life. His parents were no longer alive and his sister was all work and no play.
Hannah parked the tractor by the barn. “We’re having leftovers for supper.”
“Your chili’s gross.” Luke stuck his finger in his mouth and made a gagging noise. “My sister’s cooking sucks.”
“If you don’t like the chili, then make your own meal.”
“Why don’t I take everyone out to eat?” Alonso said. There had to be a fast-food restaurant within ten miles of the ranch.
“You’re not buying us dinner,” Hannah said.
“I don’t care what you guys do. I’m microwaving a frozen pizza.” Luke hopped down from the tractor.
“Do you like your chili over rice or plain?” she asked Alonso.
“I’d rather take you out to eat. Save the chili for tomorrow.”
Hannah fought a smile. “Luke’s being a stinker. My cooking isn’t that bad.”
Alonso laughed. “Let me take you out.”
“There’s a restaurant down the road with a great view.”
“That works for me.”
“You’re welcome to use the shower in the house.” She walked off and it took a whole lot more effort than it should have to pull his gaze from her swaying hips. It was a toss-up as to whether he was more excited about getting clean or sharing dinner with a pretty girl.
