Читать книгу A Cowboy's Pride - Pamela Britton - Страница 14

Chapter Five

Frustrated.

The word summed up how Trent felt two days later. The damn woman wouldn’t leave him alone. She kept strapping him onto a dang horse, insisting that he could use his hips better, clamp down with his thighs harder, use his lower leg to kick Baylor forward faster. He had rub marks on his calves and bruises on the insides of his thighs.

Today she agreed to take it easier on him, but only after he’d almost fallen out of his wheelchair after yesterday’s particularly grueling session. They would work on leg-strengthening today, she’d told him, and resume riding the next day.

He couldn’t wait.

A knock on the door sent his mood plummeting even more. “Enter.”

She swung the door wide, pretty blue eyes scanning the interior of his cabin as if worried he might be hiding from her. He wasn’t. He sat in his chair, which he’d positioned near the doorway of bedroom.

She smiled when she saw him. “Ready?”

Such a beautiful smile. Too bad she was a slave driver.

“Depends on what you have planned for me.”

The smile grew wider. “Actually, we’re going on a picnic.”

If she’d told him they were flying to Mars, she couldn’t have surprised him more. “A picnic is your idea of therapy?”

“Yup.” She motioned him forward. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

She turned and left him standing there, a habit of hers, he’d noticed. The woman waited for no one, least of all him.

“Just a sec.” He grabbed his cowboy hat off the peg by the door. He turned back to the front door in time to spot her scooping up a basket, a breeze throwing back the smell of fried chicken and...pie? Was that what he smelled?

His stomach grumbled.

“What is that?”

“Lunch.”

He hadn’t eaten all morning. Frankly, he’d been too exhausted to do much more than sleep.

“Can we eat here?”

She glanced back at him. “Nope. Where we’re going isn’t far.”

“Smells good,” he grumbled.

His chair picked up speed as he rolled toward her. She wore a red shirt this morning, one that emphasized a natural bloom on her cheeks. Her black hair had been left loose, and Trent had observed her enough times to know that she preferred it that way. She liked to flick it out of her face when she was determined to make him do something, which was pretty often, he admitted, his eye catching sight of her rear end, or more specifically, the crystal beads on her pockets. They caught the light and beamed out rainbow-colored prisms. Pretty jeans for a pretty woman.

Now, now. Just because she’s taking it easy on you today is no reason to have thoughts like that.

A blind man would notice how gorgeous she was. The woman might be a termagant, but she was a good-looking termagant. And even though he might despise her militant attitude, she knew exactly what to say to motivate him into action. He respected that.

“How many guests can you accommodate here?”

The words caused her to slow down, Trent finally able to stare at her profile. That was good. The view from the rear was entirely too distracting for his peace of mind.

“Eight families.” She glanced down at him and Trent found himself wondering if maybe he should have kept quiet. When she wasn’t giving him orders, he had a hard time focusing on her words because suddenly he was noticing how her eyes matched the color of the sky, and how the red shirt tucked into her jeans made her waist seem smaller.

“Most of the cabins sleep four people,” she added when he kept quiet. “Although two of them, the ones on the end—” she pointed to the last two cabins “—they’re bigger and can comfortably sleep six.”

He couldn’t care less, but if he were honest with himself, he could admit to feeling more relaxed. Between the light breeze on his face, the quiet gurgle of the river to his right and the pleasant tone of her voice, Trent found himself relaxing for the first time in ages.

“How long has this place been a guest ranch?”

“Since a year after Kimberly died.”

The girl’s mother, he thought. Alana’s fiancé had died in the same wreck. Wait. She’d corrected him on that. She hadn’t been engaged to Braden, but they’d been close, despite her words to the contrary. He thought about the emotions on her face when he questioned her the first day. The pain he’d spotted. The lingering sadness. The emptiness. He’d felt like a heel the moment he’d closed the door behind her.

“Is that how all this started? With Rana’s injuries from the wreck?”

He saw her swallow and nod. “We almost lost her.”

One of his wheels hooked on a rock. He straightened himself out before asking, “How long was she in the hospital?”

“Months.” She shook her head, as if trying to shake off the memories. “She lost her mom and her uncle all in one fell swoop, and then had to fight for her life. It was almost too much for her to bear.”

Was she speaking of Rana? Or herself?

“When we brought her home, Cabe and I put our heads together. I’d always planned on being a therapist, had the majority of my schooling done. He was desperate to get Rana back. The extent of her injuries harmed her mind as well as her body and so we came up with a plan to distract her. Horses. Lots and lots of horses. We made sure she was out of doors every chance we could get. I finished my degree and went to work on her. I guess you could say she was my guinea pig.”

She’d slowed down, stopping by a massive tree, one with roots jutting out all the way down to the riverbank. A frog croaked nearby. The breeze had kicked up, and it tossed her hair back. She seemed lost in her thoughts. He almost didn’t want to breathe for fear of distracting her. Then she blinked, met his gaze.

“Everything happens for a reason.”

She meant the ranch, of course, not what he’d gone through.

“You didn’t stop with Rana, though,” he said.

“No. When word got out that Rana was walking again, the phone started ringing. Cabe talked to me about opening a guest ranch specializing in people with disabilities. I thought it was a great idea. We started looking into grants. Before we knew it, we had the financing and a waiting list. We couldn’t build the cabins fast enough.”

He could tell she loved what she did. Just talking about it set her whole face aglow, causing Trent to marvel at how pretty she was all over again. The sadness was gone and in its wake was the joy of her success.

“It seems quiet here now.”

She smiled ruefully. “The calm before the storm. School’s still in session. Come July we’ll be packed solid. Cabe will bring in some help, usually interns from nearby colleges. It’s crazy, but it’s so amazing to watch people with a disability get on a horse for the first time. When they feel a horse beneath them, when they realize they can walk again, well, not them, but the horse, their faces light up. And then when they learn to control the horse and suddenly they’re mobile in a way they never imagined...”

He could watch the play of emotions on her face all day. The happiness. The excitement. The satisfaction. He couldn’t look away.

“I can’t imagine ever leaving this place...or Rana. She’s like a daughter to me now.”

Suddenly, he was unaccountably jealous of Rana, and that was just plain ridiculous. Why?

Because she could walk again.

“How long did it take?”

She seemed to snap back to earth. “For what?”

“To teach Rana to walk again?”

She smiled. “Months, but Rana makes it sound like it took a decade. I’ve never seen anyone attack therapy like Rana did. She told me at one point that God might have taken her mother, but He wasn’t going to take her legs away, too. She was angry.” Alana stared at him pointedly. “We had to deal with that, too. I’ve learned it’s pretty common for people to latch on to their anger when they’ve been dealt a debilitating blow.”

The way he had. He couldn’t miss her point.

“By the way, this is where we’re having our picnic.” She pointed to a spot beneath a tree, one so big its branches hung out over the nearby river. “That rope there will be your therapy today.”

She’d done that on purpose, he realized—changed the subject.

“We’ll work on leg strengthening, but not until after you eat.”

When she opened the basket he once again caught a whiff of something fried and mouthwatering.

“Don’t people think it strange, you living all the way out here with only Cabe and Rana for company?”

Her hands froze in the middle of unpacking plates. “No. Everyone knows we’re just friends. But even if people did talk, I wouldn’t care. I stick around as much for Rana as for myself. People can say what they want to say.”

She wasn’t messing around with Cabe—had never messed around with the man. He could see that in her eyes.

“Eat up.” She handed him a plate full of food before sitting down next to the basket.

It was good. Delicious, actually. “You’re a good cook.”

“Thanks,” she muttered, taking a bite of her own food. She didn’t eat all daintylike, either. She ate like a woman who worked hard for a living and consumed calories to keep her energy.

Sexy.

He jerked his gaze away. What the hell was wrong with him? Okay, granted, she was hot. A year ago he would have crammed down his hat and gone after her. A year ago he’d have been able to pursue her. A year ago he’d had the use of his legs.

The thought put him in a sour mood all over again, the two of them eating in silence. He thought about making small talk, but what was the use? He didn’t want to be her friend. Hell, he didn’t want to be here at all. So if she insisted on dragging him out of his cabin, she could deal with the silence.

As it turned out, she didn’t seem to care. As the silence stretched on, Trent found himself starting to relax again. That was, until she stuffed her plate back into the basket and asked, “Ready to get to work?”

He lost his appetite.

“Not really.”

She smiled. He hated when she did that. It increased the wattage of her beauty, and he didn’t like being in enemy territory.

“Too bad.”

He glanced down at his own plate, surprised to note he’d eaten it all.

“Come on.” She held out her hand for his plate. He reluctantly gave it to her. “Wheel yourself as close to the rope as you can get.”

He didn’t want to. He really didn’t. He could feel things from about midthigh upward, and those thighs told him he was done—sore as a castrated bull dragged to the fire.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Simple, really. Just wheel yourself close to the rope and pull yourself up.”

He eyed the rope in question. The thing dangled down from the branch above him, one with a canopy of leaves so thick you couldn’t even see through it. Why did he have a feeling this wouldn’t be as simple as she made it sound?

“You sure it will hold my weight?”

She smirked. “Positive.”

Okay, so he was stalling, but he was really sore. All he wanted to do was sit in the damn chair.

He reached for the thick hemp, the fibers biting into his palms. It was as wide as a candlestick and easy to handle. He didn’t have any problem lifting himself up, either, but the minute he’d pulled himself out of his chair, she jerked the thing out from under him.

“Hey!”

“Won’t do you any good if you sit back down.”

He dangled there like a stupid monkey and all she did was smile. “What am I supposed to do? Hang here?”

“No. I want you to straighten up. Use your legs to stand, then try walking.”

“I can’t walk. I’ll fall on my ass.”

“No, you won’t. Just use the rope for balance.”

He took a deep breath, let go with one hand and slapped a palm farther up the rope. His legs dangled uselessly beneath him.

“Stupid.” He didn’t mean to say the word out loud, but it slipped from between his lips before he could stop it.

“There’s nothing stupid about this. I’ve seen your file. I looked at your scans. There’s no reason why you can’t regain the use of your legs. You just need to learn to trust them.”

His arms had begun to shake. He pulled himself up another notch.

“There,” she said. “Now get your legs beneath you.”

“Can’t.”

“Do it.”

He tried moving them, but as always, all he could do was swing them a little. He had no control. Just useless lumps of meat.

She leaned closer to him. “Move them.”

His heart pounded. His arms had started to hurt.

“No.”

He fell. She caught him, somehow supporting his weight, though how she did it he had no idea.

She smelled good.

“Do it again.”

“No.”

She started to let him go. He flailed his arms for the rope. Once again he found himself dangling there.

“Now move.”

“I can’t, damn it.”

His arms started to hurt all over again.

“Just try.”

“I am.”

How long he hung there, he didn’t know, but he’d be damned if he let go again. Alas, his body had other ideas. His grip began to loosen. He froze.

And fell once again into her arms.

“That’s it.” He huffed. “I’m done. Get my chair.”

Lord, she smelled good.

“I can’t reach it and still hold on to you.” She strained beneath his weight, he could tell. “Grab the rope.”

“I don’t have the strength to lift myself up.”

“Yes, you do.”

He tried moving his limbs. Surprisingly, they worked, so much so that when they kicked into action, his legs shot them both backward. Somehow, she managed to swing his body around, his butt landing heavily in his wheelchair.

“See. I told you. I can’t do it!”

“You can,” she said, stepping back and sounding as out of breath as he felt. “All you need is practice. Come on. Let’s do it again.”

“No.”

She cocked her head sideways. “No?”

He tried to keep his voice level. “It’s no use. I tried the same sort of exercises before coming here, not this one exactly, but close. Nothing’s helped. You’re wasting your time.”

She stared down at him. He wondered if she’d push the issue. She didn’t.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” She bent and picked up the picnic basket. “But I won’t work with someone if they refuse to help themselves.” She slung the thing over her arm. “You have a choice to make, Mr. Anderson. Either you do the exercises I prescribe, or you go home.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t like wasting my time with half-ass efforts.”

“Half-ass?”

“So if you decide to stay, you will do exactly as I tell you to do. If you don’t, have a nice life.”

She turned away.

“Wait. That’s it? You’re just going to leave me here?”

“You know the way back to your cabin.”

She spun around and walked backward. “If you decide to stay, be at the barn tomorrow morning. Nine o’clock.”

“And if I don’t?”

She smirked again. “Like I said. Have a nice life.”