A Cowboy's Pride. Pamela Britton

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СКАЧАТЬ “I’ve never backed away from anything in my life.”

      He saw her eyes narrow, saw that gaze flicker over him as if doubtful he would amount to anything, the expression in her eyes setting his temper to flare in a way he hadn’t felt in, well, in a long, long while.

      “We’ll see.”

      Alana insisted on following him, even though he made it clear he didn’t want her to. He didn’t want her to help him, either, but when he saw the size of the hill leading into the river valley, he changed his mind. Alana almost laughed at the way he grudgingly allowed her to guide his chair.

      “We’re pretty secluded out here.” She motioned to the log cabin where he’d be residing, the sun’s rays catching the color of the wood and turning it gold. They were making their way toward a low-lying valley, one with a wide swath of lawn to the left with pine trees sprouting up at odd intervals. They’d had cabins built among the trees, the resulting vista something Alana was proud of having had a hand in. Across from the cabins was the Feather River, and though winter was gone, the water still rushed past with a gentle roar thanks to the snowpack in the hills.

      “There are landline phones in every room if you ever need any help.” She leaned back, trying to counterbalance the weight of him in his chair with her own. Too bad they hadn’t had Tom take him down. That would have made things easier. Then again, if they’d done that, she wouldn’t be able to give him such a hard time. And if ever a man needed a hard time, this man did.

      “I won’t need help.”

      Hah.

      But the words confirmed her suspicion that it really got under his skin when she reminded him of the disabled word.

      So she resolved to use it as much as possible.

      She patted him on the shoulder patronizingly. “We’re here for you, Trent. We specialize in helping disabled guests.”

      They were halfway down the hill, and she would bet if he didn’t fear a runaway wheelchair, he would have used his hands to jerk away from her.

      “Once I get to my cabin, I want to be left alone.”

      He sounded like a petulant child, and in a way he was. He was having to learn how to walk again, was completely dependent on other people to teach him to do exactly that. Things he’d taken for granted were no longer easy—like making his way to a cabin in the woods. And as she thought about all that he’d had to overcome, including the death of his best friends in the tragic car wreck that had almost cost him his life, well, suffice it to say she started to wonder if she wasn’t being a little too hard on him.

      That was until they reached the bottom of the hill and he did exactly what she knew he’d been dying to do. He wrenched away.

      “Damn.” She stopped and rested her hands on her hips, her fingers stinging from the force of the handles being ripped from her grasp. “You’re good at that.”

      He ignored her, just made a beeline for his cabin. He must have seen that it was handicapped equipped because he zipped toward the place as if he rode in a two-wheeled sports car. A ramp had been built to run straight up to the front door. His wheels hit the slats with a clackity-click-click. His bag nearly slipped from his lap he stopped so hard as he spun his chair so he could push on the handle.

      “It’s locked,” she called out in a singsong voice, knowing it wasn’t very nice of her to take such naughty pleasure in his impatience.

      He glanced at the door, then her, clearly frustrated.

      She contemplated for an instant how it would feel to walk away and leave him there. She wished she had the gumption to do exactly that, but in the end, she really did understand what he was going through. She’d watched Rana go through the same type of emotional turmoil. Grief was tricky. It brought out either the best or the worst in people. If he was anything like her, he felt the loss of his friend like a kick to the stomach.

      She headed for the front door.

      Sunlight turned the surface of the wood-framed window into a mirror. She spotted her reflection as she walked toward the cabin. Reflected, too, was the image of blue sky, the mercury-like surface of the river and the meadow that lined the water’s edge, and the low-lying mountains.

      “Here.” She turned the key with a flourish. The smell of pine and beeswax greeted her as she opened the door. “Light switch to the right. Bathroom straight ahead, just before the bedroom. It’s handicapped equipped, by the way.”

      He rolled past her. She caught the scent of him then, an interesting combination of citrus and cinnamon, which she might have taken a moment to admire if he wasn’t a guest and a soon-to-be patient. He really was good with that chair, judging by the way he wheeled around the small table and chairs to their right. He paused in the sitting room area that lined the front of the cabin. To her surprise he suddenly faced her, cowboy hat momentarily shielding his gaze until he lifted his chin.

      “Tell the girl I’m sorry.”

      It took a moment to realize who he was talking about.

      The hat dipped down again. She saw his jaw work, the little muscle along the side of it ticking as if he were grinding his teeth.

      “Long flight.”

      He leaned forward, suddenly slipping out of the jacket he wore and exposing a toned upper body covered by a white button-down shirt.

      My, my, my.

      As patients went, he was pretty dang easy on the eyes.

      “Three-hour flight from Colorado to the West Coast, another wait to catch the small plane that brought me here, then a long drive to what felt like the middle of nowhere, all to get to a place I don’t want to be.”

      Maybe he wasn’t such an ass after all.

      She studied him anew. He really was a handsome cuss with his dented chin and his piercing gray eyes. She could see why girls the world over had followed his rodeo career.

      “You really should give the place a try.” She clutched her sweater around her tighter. Good-looking or not, this man came with a lot of baggage. “It’s worked wonders for some people.”

      His chin moved up a notch. “You some kind of therapist or something?”

      She almost laughed. “Didn’t you know?”

      “Know what?”

      “That’s what I do here. Physical therapy. And cook on occasion for Cabe and Rana, although Cabe’s the better cook. I do make a mean pot of chili, though.”

      He stared at her anew, looked at her hard. She could see the wheels turning behind those pretty eyes of his.

      “You were Braden Jensen’s fiancée, weren’t you?”

      The nerves of her face suddenly turned cold.

      “I remember seeing you at the Pendleton show. He told me you were in college. That you were studying sports medicine. That you wanted to help athletes with injuries.”

      Breathe, Alana. Breathe.

      “We СКАЧАТЬ