Close Enough to Touch. Victoria Dahl

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      CHAPTER THREE

      COLE GLARED AT THE TOP of his physical therapist’s head, cursing her for an ogre and a devil and a nasty, power-abusing son of a bitch. Farrah looked up and smiled. “You doing okay, Cole?” She pressed his knee tighter to his ribs, resting all her weight against it. Not much heft considering she had the size and appearance of a benevolent fairy. Just another of her evil tricks.

      “I’m great,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

      “Easy says you’re bugging the tar out of him again.”

      “I need to get back to work.”

      “You want this to heal right or not?” She finally released his knee, but his hip joint screamed as she slowly lowered his leg to the ground.

      “It’s healing fine,” he said.

      Her eyes slid away. “You’re strong and healthy. You were in excellent shape before the accident, but there’s still a chance…”

      “Sure.”

      “When are you going back to the orthopedist?”

      “Two weeks.”

      “Okay.” She stood up, dusting her hands as if Cole were a pet project. “I bet a new CT scan will have more answers. But I can definitely tell you’ve been doing the exercises.”

      He stood and stretched his back. “Thanks for coming by this morning. I know you don’t have to do that.”

      “You’re a special case.” She rolled her eyes, but then smiled brightly. “Really, Cole. I want to help you get back in the saddle as much as Easy does.”

      “Oh, yeah? Your uncle isn’t offering much help.”

      “You mean he’s following doctor’s orders because you won’t?”

      “Jesus, I haven’t ridden, have I?” Cole grimaced as he realized he’d snapped at this girl who was like a little cousin to him. “Sorry, Farrah.”

      “Please. You wouldn’t believe the things I hear from my clients. Combinations of words that I shouldn’t even know.” She grabbed her bag. “Take a hot shower. Loosen everything up. And you’re making progress.”

      “Sure,” he murmured as he gave her a farewell hug and let her out the door.

      He was doing great. Of course he was. Despite what the experts were saying, he was sure he’d be fine.

      As fine as could be expected for a cowboy who might never ride again.

      Cole shook his head and ran a hand over his sore thigh. He’d be okay. The doctors were hopeful. The shattered femur was healing and the pelvic fracture would mend. Just in time for him to get back out there to round up the stock for fall.

      It would be his last roundup for Easy. Oh, he loved Easy like a father, but Cole was ready to own his own ranch. And Easy was ready to sell. Next year, Cole would be rounding up his own cattle, and Easy would be sipping piña coladas on a Mexican beach.

      Chuckling at the thought of Easy relaxing on a beach in his Stetson, Cole headed for the shower.

      He made the water as hot as he could stand it, hoping no one else in the building had put too much of a strain on the water heater. One of these days he’d do his exercises, take a hot shower and suddenly feel good. Great. Back to normal. He knew it. But for now, the ache hadn’t left. Sometimes it faded to something bearable. Sometimes it swelled into a giant thumping heart in his thigh. The pain was normal, his doctors said. Nothing to be concerned about.

      Half an hour later, the ache beaten back to a dull roar, Cole found himself sipping his morning coffee and staring at his door again, waiting for some sign of life from the apartment across the hall.

      He hadn’t seen her since he’d watched her talk to Rayleen at the saloon. Grace hadn’t even noticed him over in the alcove that housed the pool tables. He’d been half irritated by that, and half thankful that he’d gotten the chance to watch her openly.

      She was a small woman, with delicate bones, but she held her body as though she was coiled to flee at any moment. Or pounce, maybe. He hoped it was the latter.

      But as intriguing as she was, she seemed to have disappeared. He hadn’t heard her even once, and they shared a common wall along the hall and bathroom. Jackson was pretty quiet at night, and he’d often heard his previous neighbor moving around, but Grace was silent as a mouse.

      Of course, the previous tenant was a drunken college dropout whose number one hobby had been juggling three different girlfriends. At least it had given Cole a soap opera to listen to on sleepless nights.

      But where was his new neighbor?

      Maybe the deal had fallen through. Maybe Old Rayleen had somehow been under the impression that she was renting the place to a hot nephew. Though… Cole shook his head at the wrongness of that thought.

      The old woman was harmless. Eccentric, but harmless. Even the jokes in town meant nothing, which was why everyone thought they were funny. Obviously nothing was going on between Rayleen and her young renters, but with the house being part of the old Studd homestead, the jokes were too easy. Too damn perfect.

      And she really never did seem to rent to women.

      Cole heard a car door close outside and cocked his head, waiting to see if it was Grace returning from… Where? A boyfriend’s house? A very, very late night with a new acquaintance? He found himself slightly irritated at the thought, and couldn’t help but smile at his own stupidity. That woman was all passion and attitude. If she wanted to sleep with a different guy СКАЧАТЬ