Читать книгу Straight From The Hip - Susan Mallery, Susan Mallery - Страница 8

WOMEN WERE an inherent pain in the ass, Nick thought as he grabbed four bottles of water from the refrigerator in the mudroom. Aaron followed him back outside.

“What are you doing? Where’s Izzy? You haven’t lost her already, have you?”

Nick jerked his head to the right and kept on walking. “She took off.”

“What?” Aaron took a half hop to keep up. “She’s blind. She can’t just take off.”

“She did.”

“What did you say? I know this is your fault. You said something mean, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“Then why didn’t you stop her? She could get lost out there.”

There was a slight possibility, but Nick doubted it. He’d given her a thirty-minute head start, so she could walk off some of her mad. He didn’t want to find her for at least an hour, maybe longer. She needed time to think through her options.

“She’s in the dry riverbed. She’ll walk along it because it’s the easiest footing.”

Aaron trailed him into the barn. “What if there’s a flash flood?”

Nick handed him the water and went to get his horse. “You see any clouds in the sky?”

“Okay, but what about snakes? Or she could fall.”

“I’m willing to risk it.”

“Is she?”

“Apparently. She’s the one who took off.” He led his horse out of the stall.

“She’s scared. Jesus, Nick, the girl has been blind all of fifteen minutes. Give her a break.”

“She’ll have to earn that.”

Aaron put the water on a worn stubby table, then planted his hands on his hips. “Sometimes you’re a big pain in my ass.”

“You think?”

Aaron pressed his lips together. Nick’s assistant was about five-ten, thin, with styled dark hair and a fussiness about him Nick had learned to accept. No matter how many pairs of jeans he wore, he never looked as if he totally fit in. He would always be a city boy trapped in rural Texas.

Nick accepted that, as well. Aaron was damned good at his job and loyal. But he had a way of burrowing in a topic like a tick during rainy season.

“She’s a nice girl,” Aaron said. “She’s out of her element. As far as she’s concerned, her family just rejected her. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Nick finished with the saddle. He grabbed the water and stuck it into the saddlebags. “She’s here so we can help her. That’s what matters. She’s upset. She’ll walk it off and then be easier to handle.”

“She’s not an upset cow. She’s a person.”

“You’re taking this too much to heart.”

“Someone has to. Give her a break.”

“I’m rescuing her. Isn’t that enough?”

“No. She’s nice. You need nice in your life.”

Nick led his horse outside. Before mounting, he glared at Aaron. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it right this second. You hear me?”

Aaron grinned. “She’s pretty, too. I know you saw that. I’m not into women and even I was impressed.”

“She’s a client, nothing more.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. You think anyone believes that?”

“I don’t care what you believe.” Izzy was here because he was going to help her. For no other reason. He didn’t get involved, certainly not with someone on his ranch. The last thing he wanted was to be responsible for someone else’s emotions.

“Did you see her butt?” Aaron asked, as Nick swung into the saddle. “It’s perfect. Do you think she does squats? My butt is just so flat.”

All Nick wanted was a nice, quiet life. Instead he had this.

“I’m leaving now,” he said.

“Okay, but be gentle when you find her. She’ll be upset and she might have a little heatstroke. Maybe you’ll have to do mouth-to-mouth.”

Nick turned his horse toward the riverbed. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Yes, but this is better.”

“Say goodbye, Aaron.”

“Goodbye, Aaron.”

Nick adjusted his hat. The temperature had to be over a hundred. He glanced at his watch and calculated how long Izzy had been gone. He would get close enough to see her, but not so close that she would hear the horse. Then he would watch her to see how she was doing.

It took twenty minutes to catch up with her, which surprised him. She’d gone farther than he’d expected. Despite her month of shutting herself in her room, she was still in decent shape.

He reined in his horse and watched her walking. Involuntarily his gaze fell to her rear and he saw that Aaron was right—she did have a great ass. That combined with her wide hazel eyes, her long, dark, curly hair made her the stuff of fantasies. Not that he would be acting on any he might have.

He would do his best to fix her, not only because his friend Garth had especially requested that he take her on, but because that’s what he did. Fix the broken, then move on. Sort of like a reverse body count. Because if the numbers were high enough—if he did enough good—maybe he could finally let go of the past.

IZZY PUT ONE FOOT in front of the other. The sun beat down unmercifully, burning her exposed skin. Sweat poured down her face and her clothes stuck to her. Her mouth was dry, her head ached and if there had been an extra drop of moisture left in her body, she would have actually considered crying.

As it was, she argued furiously with herself. Going back made the most sense. She should just turn around and walk into the sun. That would get her to the barn. But it felt too much like giving up.

Nick would come for her. Or send someone. She knew in her head, he wasn’t going to let her die out here. Except if she kept walking, she might get so lost, no one could find her and then what? Did she really want to risk it?

“I don’t want this,” she said aloud. “Any of it.”

Not being outside right now, not being at the ranch or being blind.

“Why did it happen to me?”

She wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. Only that would take too much effort.

She stumbled on something she couldn’t see, then caught herself. As she straightened, she heard a sound behind her. Fear tightened her chest, then she recognized the steady steps of a horse. She drew in a breath and stopped.

“You’re probably feeling stupid about now,” Nick said casually.

She raised her chin. “Not at all.”

“Then more than your eyesight got damaged in that explosion. Are you finished making your point or do you want to keep walking? In another twenty minutes, your sunburn is going to blister. That’ll hurt.”

“Is this your way of convincing me to accept your help?”

“You don’t need convincing. I’ll give you this. You’re the first blind person I know who would willingly walk into the wilderness with no idea of where she was going. I can’t decide if that makes you brave or an idiot. I’ll get back to you on that.”

“Don’t bother. I was fine.”

“You were lucky. You could have fallen and cracked open your head or been bitten by a snake.”

“I would have preferred a snake to you.”

She heard him get off his saddle.

“Now you’re just talking sweet to make me like you,” Nick said. “Here.”

He handed her a bottle of water. She took it and un-screwed the top. The liquid was cool and sweet on her dry throat.

“I wouldn’t drink too much of that all at once,” he told her.

She ignored him and kept drinking. She finally stopped, took a step, then bent over and threw it all up. Her insides twisted, forcing her to retch and gag. She coughed and did her best to catch her breath.

“Not the brightest bulb,” he murmured.

“Shut up,” she said with a gasp.

“Drink it slow and this time it’ll stay down.”

Humiliation joined the heat of the sunburn. She sipped cautiously.

“See?”

He sounded smug, which made her want to hit him. But she’d already tried that and it hadn’t worked at all.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you back.” He took her free hand and led her over to his horse. “I’ll get on and pull you up behind me.”

“Or you could walk and I’ll ride.”

“Do you think that will happen?”

She saw blurry movement, then heard him settle in the saddle.

“Give me the water,” he said.

She passed it up to him, then found the stirrup with her hands and put her left foot in it. He grabbed her arm.

“One, two, three.”

On three, he pulled her as she pushed off the ground. For a second, there was an uncomfortable sensation of moving through nothing, then she settled behind his saddle, on the horse’s rump. He pressed her bottle of water into her hand.

“Hang on,” he told her.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Do you have to argue about everything?”

“Yes. It’s one of my best qualities.” As she spoke, she reached around his waist to hold on. If she didn’t, she would slide off and it was a long way to the ground.

The horse moved forward.

Sitting on the back of a horse was a lot different from sitting in a saddle. Instinctively Izzy held on with her thighs and tightened her grip on Nick’s waist. She rocked with the movement and found her nose pressed against his back.

He was warm and his shirt still smelled like soap and fabric softener. Underneath that was the scent of male skin. Her fingers encountered nothing but muscles at his midsection. She might not know much about the guy, but based on how he’d swung her over his shoulder, and rode a horse, she would guess he worked out.

Under other circumstances, and assuming she could see, he might be someone she found attractive. Not that it mattered anymore. Did the blind girl ever get the guy? Did it matter? She was hungry and tired and her skin burned from the sun. She just wanted to go home.

Except she didn’t technically have a home anymore. Her quarters on the oil rig had disappeared in the explosion. When she was off work, she stayed with her sister Skye at Glory’s Gate, but Skye wasn’t there anymore. She’d moved in with her fiancé. And Izzy wasn’t comfortable living in the family house with just her dad, mostly because she didn’t think she actually belonged there.

Thoughts for another day, she told herself.

A large shape came into blurry view. She squinted, but that didn’t help.

“We’re back?” she asked.

“Yes. I’ll help you down.”

“I’m good.”

She held out the water until he took it, then pressed her hands between her thighs, on the back of the horse, swung her right leg around and lowered herself to the ground. She hit a couple of inches after she’d expected to but didn’t stumble.

Nick dismounted and handed the horse to someone. She tried to see who it was, but couldn’t.

“This way,” he said.

Dinner, she thought longingly. She would kill for a meal. Or even act nice. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so hungry.

But the building they approached didn’t look like the house. She couldn’t see the details but the shape was all wrong. He opened a door, then waited, maybe for her to go first. There was no way she was stepping into that pit of darkness.

Seconds later he reached past her and flipped on lights. She saw a big bright room, but no details. Cautiously, she walked inside.

The ceiling was a long distance up—she couldn’t say how far. The floor was hardwood. She saw shapes she didn’t recognize. The place was familiar, although she couldn’t say why.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“The gym. I heard you’re into rock climbing. I thought we’d take a few minutes before dinner so you can practice.”

She spun toward his voice. “Are you insane?”

“There have been rumors, but technically, no.”

“What’s wrong with you? I’m thirsty, sunburned, tired and hungry. I’m not climbing a wall just to amuse you.”

“Sure you are. Besides, isn’t there a part of you that wonders if you still can?”

She could accept a lot, but not that he was having fun at her expense. The bastard. She’d been right—Nick was a bully.

“I’m blind!” she screamed. “I can’t see.”

“You don’t climb with your eyes. You climb with your hands and your feet. Come on, Izzy. Once to the top. Think of how it will feel.”

Terrifying, she thought, angry and scared and hating life. It would feel terrifying. To be all the way up there, in darkness, or near darkness.

“I can’t.”

He jingled something that sounded like a harness.

“You can and you’ll feel better if you do. You’ll feel like there’s hope.”

“Are you talking? I can’t really hear you. There’s a lot of static.”

“Ignore me if you want, but I’m right. Come on. One quick climb to the top, then we’ll have dinner.”

She was so weary. Exhaustion hung on her, pulling her toward the ground. She just wanted to curl up and whimper.

“Can I kick you in the balls if I make it?” she asked.

“No, but you can have dinner.”

Her sisters had done this to her, she thought bitterly. Turned her over to this stranger who got his rocks off by bullying those around him. Resentment built up inside her. It burned hot and bright, until she could only think of pounding him into the ground. Of frightening him and making him whimper.

But that wasn’t going to happen. Not anytime soon. She was trapped and there seemed to be only one way out.

She grabbed the harness. The shape was familiar in her hands and she slid into it easily.

“The shoes are over here.”

She pulled off her sandals, not caring that her feet were probably filthy, and slipped on the climbing shoes, then allowed him to guide her to the wall. He offered her chalk for her hands.

She rubbed her fingers together. The room was cool and quiet. She could hear herself breathing and nothing else. Her skin burned from the sun, her body ached and she was so hungry she felt hollow. But none of that mattered. Not knowing where the need came from, she suddenly knew she had to climb the wall.

She closed her eyes, because then not seeing felt like a choice. She put her hand on the smooth surface in front of her, then felt around until she found handholds. When she’d gripped them, she moved her right foot forward and up. Nick moved behind her and clipped the safety line to her harness.

She ignored him. There was only the wall in front of her and finding the next place to hang on.

Slowly, she climbed. She found her rhythm in the movements. He was right—she didn’t need to see to do this and each step gave her more confidence.

About twenty minutes into the climb, she moved her foot higher, found the foothold and shifted her weight. Her foot slipped. Suddenly she was hanging in midair, with no idea of where she was or what came next. Panic surged, but she ignored it. She hung on with her hands, scrambling with her feet until she found another hold. Cautiously, she centered herself on it, easing her weight off her hands and onto her legs again.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Sweat soaked her. She kept her eyes closed. When she’d caught her breath, she began moving up again.

Nick watched Izzy’s careful progress. He’d wondered if she would refuse to climb, but she hadn’t. Now she worked her way steadily to the top of the wall, her body moving easily as she remembered what she was supposed to be doing.

His gaze slipped over her bare arms. Something inside him tightened when he caught sight of the curve of her breast. She was wild enough to be appealing but not so crazy that she made him wary. In other circumstances, before everything had changed, he would be interested. As it was—he could look but not touch.

She took the last few feet easily and slapped the top of the wall.

“I made it,” she yelled.

He reached for the safety rope and lowered her to the ground.

“Next time you can take it at more than a crawl,” he told her.

She touched the floor and unhooked herself, then grinned at him. “Next time we’ll race and I’ll so kick your ass.”

“In your dreams.”

She laughed. “No, Nick. In yours.”

BY THE TIME they returned to the main house, Izzy was hungry enough to eat a water buffalo. Or at least pretty much anything that was served for dinner. At this point, she would even consider one of her sister Lexi’s über-healthy sticks and greens sandwiches on the pressed cardboard she called bread. But when they walked into the kitchen, the smells that surrounded her were rich and thick and filled with promise.

“Over here,” Nick said, guiding her to the sink in the mudroom.

She found the taps, then the soap. After washing her hands, she splashed water on her face and dried herself with a towel. She turned toward the sound of footsteps.

“You’re back,” Aaron said happily. “I was worried. I know, I know. I shouldn’t. It gives me wrinkles. So we’re having pot roast for dinner. And, honey, the things Norma can do with a pot roast will make you want to weep.”

Aaron linked arms with her and led her into the kitchen. “Norma, this is Izzy. Izzy, Norma, who keeps us all fed and happy.”

“Hi,” Izzy said, feeling a little awkward as she stared at a blurry shape that was probably Norma. Should she hold out her hand? Wave?

“You’re skinny,” Norma said by way of greeting. “You sit at my table, you eat food.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Izzy murmured. “I’m actually a big eater.”

“Uh-huh. We’ll see about that. Now you go sit. I don’t have time for chitchat. Shoo.”

Aaron guided her toward the table. She reached out her hands until she felt the chair. She could make out the shape of the table and knew there were things on top of it, but couldn’t say exactly what everything was. Aaron took the chair on her right and when a man moved across from her, she assumed it was Nick.

Cozy, she thought, feeling awkward. She wasn’t used to eating in front of strangers. She wished she could take a tray to her room, but had a feeling she knew what would happen if she asked.

Norma put serving bowls on the table. “Eat up,” she said sternly. “I don’t want to hear anything but lips smacking.”

“We’re not allowed to talk?” Izzy asked in a whisper.

“We can talk,” Aaron told her. “She just sounds tough. Want me to serve you?”

“Okay.”

“There’s pot roast and potatoes and carrots. Plus biscuits. Norma, you’re killing me with your biscuits. They’re delicious.”

“I make them because you like them.” Her voice came from behind them, in the kitchen.

He dished out food as he spoke, filling her plate. “Wineglass is on your right. Tonight it’s a saucy little Washington Syrah from Walla Walla. I’m in charge of the wine selection. It’s a hobby of mine.”

Izzy glanced across the table. She could see Nick’s outline, but had no idea what he was doing. Eating? Staring? Reading the paper? He was silent, which unnerved her.

“Do you need me to tell you where the food is on your plate?” Aaron asked.

“No, thanks. I’m not that handicapped.”

“You’re not handicapped, you’re handicapable.”

His perky statement made her laugh. “Okay. If you say so.”

“I do.”

Izzy picked up her fork. Her mouth was watering before she took her first bite. She nearly swooned when she tasted Norma’s perfect pot roast. Her stomach growled again, this time in appreciation.

“You’ll meet Rita tomorrow,” Aaron said. “She’s in charge of the horses. She and her husband live a few miles away. They’ve been married forever.” He sighed. “It’s just so romantic. I want to find someone. Nick, you never introduce me to any of your friends. Why is that?”

“They’re not your type.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

There was something in his tone that made her look up. But no matter how hard she stared, she couldn’t bring him into focus. Or the room. Or her plate. Her appetite disappeared, leaving her feeling sick to her stomach.

“Izzy?” Aaron sounded concerned.

“I’m fine,” she whispered.

“Eat a biscuit. It’ll make you feel better.”

She knew he was only trying to help, but right now nothing was going to make her feel better. Nick was silent. The unfair advantage of everyone else being able to see made her want to lash out.

“You’re quiet,” she snapped. “Are you judging me or being critical?”

“I wasn’t thinking about you at all.”

She stiffened.

“Is that typical for you?” he asked. “Do you expect everything to be about you? You’re only happy when you’re the center of attention? No wonder you were comfortable sitting around, being taken care of. Least effort, most outcome. Being blind is probably the best thing that ever happened to you.”