The Cowboy's Way. Kathie DeNosky

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      “We’ll be fine,” she said, removing two of the tablets from the bottle.

      He stared at her for a moment, wondering for the second time since finding her stranded on the road how he could have missed how beautiful she was all those times he took her horse back to her. Even with dark smudges under her eyes, she was striking and the kind of woman a man couldn’t help but wonder—

      “Was there something else?” she asked, snapping him back to reality.

      Deciding the rain must have washed away some of his good sense, he shook his head. “Good night.”

      When he left the room and closed the door, he heard the quiet snick of the lock being set behind him as he started down the hall to his bedroom. Under the circumstances, he could understand her caution. A woman alone couldn’t be too careful these days. She didn’t know him and until tonight, he hadn’t given her a reason to think she might want to change that fact.

      “You’re one sorry excuse for a man,” he muttered to himself.

      He’d had his mind made up that she was just a defiant, uncaring female who arrogantly ignored his pleas to keep her horse at home. It had never occurred to him that she was every bit as vulnerable and overworked as any other single mother. Of course, he hadn’t known about the kid until tonight. But that was no excuse for jumping to conclusions about her the way he had.

      As T.J. took off his damp clothes and headed for the shower to wash away the uncomfortable chill of the cold rain, he couldn’t stop thinking about his guests down the hall. He didn’t know what the story was with Heather and her little boy, but it really didn’t matter. Whether she wanted to accept his help or not, right now she needed it. She and her kid were both sick, and since there didn’t seem to be anyone else to see to their welfare, T.J. was going to have to step up to the plate.

      One of the first things Hank Calvert had taught him and his brothers was that when they saw someone in need, it was only right to pitch in and lend a hand. He had told them that life could be an obstacle and sometimes it took teamwork to get through it. And if anyone ever needed a helping hand it was Heather Wilson.

      Of course, T.J. didn’t think Hank had ever run into anyone with as much stubborn pride as Heather. The woman wore that pride like a suit of armor and was a little too independent for her own good. He toweled himself dry, walked into the bedroom and got into bed. He lay there for several long minutes, staring up at the ceiling as he listened to the rain pelt the roof. Heather’s situation was a lot like his own mother’s.

      Delia Malloy had been a single mother with all the responsibilities that entailed. She had done a great job of holding down a job and providing for their family of two while she raised him. T.J. would always be grateful for the sacrifices she had made. But when he was ten years old, they both came down with the flu. That was when his life changed forever.

      His mother had taken good care of him and made sure he recovered with no problems, but what she hadn’t done was take care of herself. Physically run-down, she developed a case of pneumonia and hadn’t been able to fight off the infection. She died a week later and T.J. had been sent to live with his elderly great-grandmother.

      That’s when all hell broke loose and started him on a downward spiral that ended up sending him to the Last Chance Ranch. His great-grandmother had really been too old to oversee what he was up to and who he was with. And he had been too hurt and angry about losing his mother to listen to her anyway. Looking back, he had been ripe for falling in with the wrong crowd and by the time he was thirteen, he had been arrested five times for vandalism and criminal mischief. Shortly after that his great-grandmother passed away and his case worker had decided that placing him with a set of normal foster parents would be more of the same, so he had been placed under the care of Hank Calvert. And even though it had been the luckiest break of his life, he was determined to see that Heather’s little boy didn’t go down the same path he had taken.

      Her little boy was counting on his mother to be there for him throughout the rest of his childhood, and for the kid’s sake, T.J. would try to make sure that happened—at least this time. Whether she liked it or not, he was going to take care of Heather and her son while they were sick and flooded out of returning to their home. In the bargain, he’d make sure that her little boy didn’t suffer the same motherless childhood that T.J. had.

      * * *

      Around dawn the morning after she followed T. J. Malloy home, Heather lay in bed, feeling as if she had been run over by a truck. Assessing her symptoms, she realized that although her muscles weren’t as achy as they had been for the past couple of days, they were extremely weak. Just lifting her head from the pillow took monumental effort. Thankfully her headache was gone, but one minute she was hot and the next she was shivering—indicating that her temperature was still elevated. Thank heavens she had been able to scrape up the money to get Seth to the doctor a couple of months earlier for a flu shot. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about him catching the illness from her.

      “Mom-mom,” Seth said, sitting up to pat her arm.

      She could tell from the tremor in his voice that he was about to cry and she knew why. For an almost two-year-old, he was a sound sleeper and had slept through the night since he was three months old. But he wasn’t used to sleeping anywhere but his own bed, in his own room, and he was probably disoriented by the strange surroundings.

      “It’s all right, sweetie.”

      Rubbing his back, she hoped he would settle back down and sleep for a little while longer before he insisted they get up for breakfast. Since coming down with the flu, it had been a real struggle to take care of a toddler, as well as a barn full of horses by herself, and she couldn’t help but want to get a little more sleep while she could. Fortunately, it had been a mild case of the illness or she would have never been able to manage on her own. But without being able to get enough rest, it was taking her twice as long to get over it.

      Just as Seth closed his eyes and seemed to be drifting back to sleep, a tap on the door caused him to jerk awake and start to cry.

      Shivering from the chills and feeling as if her legs were made of lead, Heather picked up her crying son and got out of bed. Without thinking about the fact that she was wearing nothing more than Malloy’s flannel shirt and her panties, she walked over to unlock and open the door. “What?”

      “I thought you and your little boy might like something to eat,” Malloy said, holding out a tray of food.

      If she had felt better, she might have tried not to sound so impatient. She might have acknowledged his thoughtfulness. At the moment, just the thought of food made her stomach queasy and she wished he hadn’t disturbed her son.

      “Th-thank you, but...” Her voice trailed off when she noticed his expression. “Is s-something wrong?”

      “Let me help you back to bed,” he said, brushing past her to set the tray on the dresser. “I’d ask if you still have a fever, but I already know the answer.”

      “H-how?” She wished her teeth would stop chattering like a cheap pair of castanets.

      Turning back, he took Seth from her, then put his arm around her shoulders and guided her back to the bed. “Just a hunch,” he answered, smiling.

      Once she was back in bed, she noticed that Seth had stopped crying and was staring at the tray of food Malloy had set on the dresser. “Mom-mom, eat.”

      Groaning, СКАЧАТЬ