Читать книгу Falling For The Rancher - Tanya Michaels, Tanya Michaels - Страница 10

Chapter Four

Sierra shifted her position in the leather chair and sipped her sweet tea, waiting for Jarrett to say something. They’d reached the end of his list of questions, and she assumed he was mulling over her responses. He hadn’t said anything in several seconds. He’d been terse throughout the conversation, lending credence to the strong, silent cowboy image, but, on the bright side, he hadn’t mentioned her family connections or leered at her. He’d barely looked at her at all, either focusing on the pad of paper where he was jotting notes or staring at some point just over her shoulder.

The interview had reached its logical conclusion. All that was left was for her to talk to the patient and assess for herself the work that needed to be done. Jarrett had handed her a folder of medical records after joining her in the study with two glasses of iced tea, but X-rays told only part of the story.

Sierra set her glass on the desk and cleared her throat. “When can I meet Vicki?”

His head jerked up, his eyes almost meeting hers before he resumed that unfocused gaze into the beyond. “Oh, uh, that won’t be necessary. She’s sleeping now and authorized me to make the decision on her behalf. And I’m happy to say, the job is yours. If you want it.”

Fantastic. She was employed again—by a laconic cowboy who lived at the butt-end of nowhere and kept staring eerily into space as if he were about to have a psychic vision. “Thank you for the offer. I’ll be able to give you my answer after I meet your sister.”

He frowned. “I told you, she’s sleeping.”

She rose from her chair, eager to escape the awkward confines of the study. “So we’ll need to wake her up.” Every patient case she’d ever worked had started with an evaluation. And this wasn’t just any case—she’d be living with these people! No way was she packing her bags and relocating before meeting both of her new roommates.

Jarrett’s gaze locked with hers, and the sudden connection was like an electric current that ran all the way down to her toes. The masculine energy in his rigid body language caused a wholly inappropriate tingly sensation. She could almost understand how a stupid cliché like “you’re beautiful when you’re angry” had originated.

“Vicki expressly asked not to be disturbed,” he said, his sharp tone matching the metallic glint in his eyes.

Sierra lifted her chin, determined to make him see reason. “Is she ill?” If the girl was sick, then Sierra would come back another day to meet her—especially if Vicki was contagious. Otherwise...

“You mean like with a cold or something? No. But, as a professional, you must know that people recuperating from such serious injuries need plenty of bed rest and—”

“It’s been a couple of months since her accident. Too much bed rest leads to atrophy. I’ve been here over an hour,” she said with a glance at her watch. “That’s adequate for a nap. Sleeping the day away can also be a sign of depression. Part of my job will be keeping Vicki engaged, whether she likes it or not.”

“You mean bullying her?” he asked. The way he shot to his feet, as if preparing to physically protect his sister, might have been endearing under other circumstances.

“I wouldn’t say ‘bullying.’” She might not put it that way...but a few of her patients had. Bully. Drill sergeant. Hard-ass. Daniel Baron, sweating through a session with his handsome features contorted into a grimace, had once called her a demon tyrant with no soul. But she was pretty sure he’d meant it as a compliment.

“Look, I’m good at what I do,” she asserted. “If you want me to take this job, you have to trust me.”

Nice going, Bailey. Three minutes after he offers you the position and you’re already giving ultimatums. What happened to demure and diplomatic and all that other crap?

He clenched his jaw, and she wondered uneasily if he would throw her out. Then he shoved a hand through his hair, the anger in his expression fading. “She’s my responsibility.” It didn’t sound like a protest, more like...a plea.

Her heart twisted at the jagged vulnerability in his voice. She added “lack of professional detachment” to her list of today’s sins.

Jarrett sighed, rounding the desk toward her. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

* * *

LAST SPRING, JARRETT had subdued a towering drunk intent on a bar fight until Sheriff Trent and Deputy Thomas could get there. During the summer, he’d calmly faced an angry bull and the occasional venomous copperhead. But women? They were scary.

Caught between Vicki’s inevitable displeasure and Sierra’s implacable resolve, he held his breath and knocked on the closed bedroom door. Normally, he did just fine with ladies, but now he was trapped in a house with two females he couldn’t charm. His sister was immune, and flirting with an employee was unethical.

A rebellious part of his brain that didn’t care about ethics wondered, if he were free to flirt with Sierra, how would she respond?

She was tough, with an unyielding force of will, hardly a woman who batted her lashes and giggled when a guy looked in her direction. Yet there’d been a sizzling moment in the study when their eyes met and— He broke off the thought. What had happened to not allowing himself to lust after the therapist?

Annoyed at his lack of discipline, he banged his fist against the door a bit harder this time. Still no response.

“She’s not answering.” From behind him, Sierra stated the obvious. Her palpable impatience was a vibration in the air. He could just imagine the nuclear confrontation when her hardheaded personality clashed with his sister’s. Was it a mistake to hire the redhead instead of sweet-natured Lucy Aldridge, who would affectionately fuss over Vicki as if she were an honorary grandchild?

“We should go in,” she urged.

Nearly a month of this woman bossing him around? Jarrett ground his teeth. “I’m not in the habit of invading her privacy.”

Sierra’s hand curved over his shoulder, surprising him, and when he turned to meet her gaze, he saw genuine concern. “You’d be checking to make sure she’s okay. The way you’ve described her state of mind...”

He turned the knob and shoved the door open a few inches. “Vicki?”

She was lying on her back with her eyes closed, but her features were creased with aggravation. “I’m trying to sleep. Go away.”

Sierra squeezed past him into the room. “Since you’re awake, I was hoping we could talk.”

At the unfamiliar voice, Vicki opened her eyes. “Now’s not a good time.” She glared past the redhead at her brother. “I’d appreciate you not letting strangers into my room.”

“I—”

“Not a stranger for long,” Sierra interrupted cheerfully. “I’m your new physical therapist. Sierra Bailey. Pleased to meet you.”

Jarrett wasn’t sure when she’d officially accepted the job, but he didn’t undermine her authority by asking the question out loud.

Sierra took a step closer to the bed, nodding toward the brace that covered most of Vicki’s forearm. “Are you regularly seeing a therapist about your wrist?”

Vicki grunted a sound that was more or less agreement.

“How much have you been working at home?” Sierra asked, switching to a question that required a more specific answer.

“When I can. It hurts.”

“The more you build your strength—within medically approved parameters, of course—the faster you’ll heal. What exercises have you been doing?”

“You’re the one who needs this job,” Vicki snapped. “Shouldn’t I be doing the interrogating?”

Folding his arms across his chest, Jarrett waited to see how Sierra dealt with his sister’s uncooperative attitude. He knew from their exchange back in his dad’s study that the redhead had a temper.

Yet Sierra’s tone was only one of mild reproach when she said, “I didn’t realize you had any questions for me. According to your brother, you willingly forfeited any say in the decision-making process.” She paused. “But if there’s something you’d like to ask, fire away.”

“Have you even been a therapist long enough to know what you’re doing?” Vicki raked her over with an expression that made it clear she wasn’t impressed with what she saw. “You barely look old enough to buy beer.”

Despite the younger woman’s sneering, Sierra smiled broadly. “Twenty-seven in November. But if you keep up the flattery, I might make it the whole time I’m here without trying to smother you.”

Jarrett bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Technically speaking, it was poor bedside manner to threaten one’s patients. But Vicki’s outraged expression was downright encouraging. It reminded him of fights they’d had in years past, when she’d been whole and spirited. He’d take her anger any day of the week over the hollow-eyed stare she’d developed.

Although he’d wanted to gauge how the two females interacted without his interference, now he spoke up on Sierra’s behalf, defending his hiring decision. “Ms. Bailey’s well qualified for her job—educated and experienced. According to Daniel Baron, she’s one of the best in the state of Texas.”

Sierra glanced back, looking surprised by the endorsement. The smile she flashed him decimated his vow not to notice how attractive she was.

“Thank you. But it’s silly to call me Ms. Bailey. We should be on a first-name basis since we’ll be living together. Who knows—by this time next month, we’ll probably all have nicknames for each other.”

“I have a few ideas,” Vicki muttered.

“So do I. As for my qualifications, I graduated college early and finished my med school program at the top of the class. Before that, I logged hundreds of volunteer hours in clinics and my high school athletic department, learning from the trainers. I’ve been learning everything I can about physical therapy since a PT helped me after I fractured my spine. You’re not the only one held together with screws and plates,” she added softly.

Jarrett was caught off guard by this revelation. During their conversations on the phone and in the study, she’d never volunteered why she’d chosen the field. He hadn’t thought to ask. With the knowledge that they’d faced similar obstacles, maybe Vicki would—

“We’re not gonna be besties just because we’ve both had surgery,” his sister said.

“Definitely not,” Sierra agreed. “I don’t do ‘bonding.’”

Oddly, the disdainful words seemed to mollify his sister.

Vicki was quiet for a long moment. “You’ve only asked me about my wrist. Why not the big thing?”

“You mean the fact that you’re in a wheelchair? Don’t let that loom large in your mind as The Big Thing. In principle, the broken pelvis is just like the broken wrist. Both are physical challenges you can overcome with time to heal and lots of hard work. The question is, are you willing to do the work?”

When Vicki slowly nodded, something like hope shining in her dark eyes, Jarrett knew he owed Daniel Baron a debt of gratitude. Sierra Bailey was definitely the right woman for the job.

* * *

DINNER THAT NIGHT was quiet, and as he washed off the plates, Jarrett found himself anxiously awaiting Sierra’s return in two days. He’d always loved the spacious ranch house, but with just him and his sullen sister, the empty space around them magnified the silence. That wouldn’t be the case when Sierra moved in. Despite being a petite woman, she somehow filled an entire room with her energy.

Jarrett had invited her to stay for supper after her conversation with Vicki, but she’d insisted she needed to get going as soon as possible.

“The sun’s setting earlier every day,” she’d pointed out, “and I need to get at least somewhere close to civilization before it’s completely dark. If I never return, it’s because I got lost on one of your meandering, quaintly unmarked roads. Seriously, is there like a town ordinance against signs?”

In the short time she’d been at the ranch, she’d made several comments suggesting Cupid’s Bow was not her ideal location. Thank God she’d agreed to take the position anyway. He glanced to where Vicki sat at the table, trying to touch her thumb to her finger. It was one of the exercises Sierra had insisted Vicki do.

“You follow this regimen exactly until I get back,” Sierra had said, handing over a sheet of paper. “Or incur my wrath.”

Vicki had rolled her eyes. “You really scare me, shorty.”

Was it wishful thinking on Jarrett’s part or had there almost been a smile in her voice? Even though parts of his sister’s encounter with Sierra had been contentious, it was still the most animated he’d seen her in weeks—not counting the infrequent times her doofus boyfriend bothered to phone.

Jarrett had no real reason to dislike Aaron, but seeing how much those short conversations meant to his sister, he resented that the guy couldn’t make time in his busy college schedule to call more often. Or maybe Aaron’s inattention makes you feel guilty because you know damn well there are women who probably expected a call from you that never came.

He balled up the dish towel and threw it on the counter. “You ready to try that rice thing?” Sierra had left instructions for Jarrett to fill a bucket with dry rice and for Vicki to place her hand inside and try to rotate it. The rice would provide resistance.

The physical therapist had arched an eyebrow at Vicki. “Resistance is right up your alley, yeah?”

Jarrett went into the walk-in pantry for a bag of rice without waiting for his sister’s answer—these days, he couldn’t always count on her to give him one. When he joined her at the table, she was still doing the first set of exercises, wincing in visible pain. He desperately wanted to say something helpful, but what? The closest he could come to empathizing with what she was going through were the many bruises and sore muscles that came with riding rodeo. He’d voluntarily endured those because he liked to win. There was nothing voluntary about her suffering.

As she slid her left hand into the bucket, he tried to sound encouraging. “Sierra is highly recommended. Follow her advice, and I’m sure all of this will get easier.” Eventually.

Beads of sweat dotted Vicki’s forehead as she attempted to turn her wrist. “She’s pretty, too. Like, obnoxiously pretty.” She pinned him with her gaze. “Don’t you think so?”

The question felt like a trap. Saying he hadn’t noticed Sierra’s appearance would be a ridiculous lie and an insult to his sister’s intelligence. But survival instincts warned that admitting Sierra was beautiful would only increase the household tension. “I’m not sure what ‘obnoxiously pretty’ means.”

“Well, she’s way more fun for a guy to look at than old Lucy Aldridge.”

The realization of what she was suggesting bit into him like barbwire through the skin. Shame bubbled to the surface instead of blood. His sister truly believed he was so selfish that he would hire the woman in charge of her well-being based on sex appeal? Of course she does. He had a track record of putting pleasure before loved ones or responsibility.

He clenched his hands into fists, and the reflexive action only heightened his guilt. He could move all ten of his fingers with no effort at all, while Vicki had gone pale in her wheelchair from trying to stir around grains of rice.

“Vic, I would have hired a wart-covered, hunchbacked troll if I thought she could get you better faster. Maybe some guys would find Sierra Bailey ‘fun to look at,’ but I won’t be looking at her. I’ll be working the ranch and staying out of her way so she can focus on you. Your recovery is all that matters to me.”

She cast him a brief, skeptical glance before ducking her gaze without comment. The little sister who’d once idolized him no longer trusted him.

Why should she? He’d given her reason to doubt. I know I let you down, Vic, but I swear it won’t happen again.