The Cowboy Soldier. Roz Fox Denny

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      He swung his legs off the bed and counted the steps to the chair where he’d left his clothes. He couldn’t help but be intrigued by her. She was a woman who spoke with a velvet voice but acted with hardfisted resolve.

      Pulling on the clothes he’d worn yesterday, Rafe wondered if Alexa had flinched at the sight of his scars. Even though he’d never seen them himself, he knew they weren’t pretty. He had that on good authority from several battle-hardened nurses who had changed his bandages after each series of surgeries. And within his hearing, doctors had discussed his wounds in gory detail.

      But why in hell did it matter to him if Alexa Robinson had recoiled or not? No woman was going to look at him now with anything but pity.

      This was not the first time since he’d woken up in a field hospital alive but blind that Rafe regretted he wasn’t one of the lucky soldiers who had a wife waiting at home. A loyal, loving wife. Several guys in his shot-up unit had wives who were just glad to see them come home. Rafe didn’t want to, but at a gut level, he envied those men.

      If he wasn’t careful, he mused, making sure he had gotten his shirt on with the tag at the back, he might start imagining Dr. Robinson as a possible candidate. God, but she smelled good enough to eat. Or did he think that because he’d had his fill of medicinal smells and the acrid odor of war? When a man lived too long in rough surroundings, he lost touch with the gentler things in life. But the few times Alexa had come and gone from his room, he hadn’t missed the clean, summery scent she left in her wake.

      He gave himself a hard mental shake. As far as he was concerned, the doctor was being a hard ass, and he’d better keep it at that.

      ALEXA WAITED THE FULL fifteen minutes. She started down the hall, but stopped when she saw Rafe emerge from his bedroom. He walked slowly and with an odd gait because he kept one hand resting atop Compadre’s furry head.

      “There you are,” she called over her shoulder as she beat a hasty retreat and waited for them in the kitchen.

      “Yeah, Dog is as persistent as you are,” Rafe muttered.

      “I named him Compadre. He’s more like a friend than the other animals I doctor back to health. He’s been with me almost a year. I pulled him half drowned from the Rio Grande when it flooded. I asked the park rangers to put out the word to try to find his owner, but no one came forward. He seems to like living here.”

      Rafe merely grunted.

      She pulled out a chair. “Here, have a seat at the kitchen table.”

      Rafe grasped the chair back and awkwardly felt his way around the cushioned seat until he seemed sure enough of his bearings to sit.

      Alexa picked up a teapot. “I’m pouring you some tea.”

      “I prefer coffee.”

      “Tea has greater healing properties. If you think of your plate as a clock, I set your mug at two o’clock. It’s quite hot, so be careful.”

      Alexa anxiously watched Rafe pick up the sturdy mug and take a sip.

      He promptly gagged. “What the hell? Are you trying to poison me?” Rafe set the mug down with a thump that sloshed tea over his hand. “Ow, dammit.” With a mutinous look, he raised his burned fingers to his lips.

      Grabbing an ice cube out of the freezer, Alexa made him hold it on the rapidly reddening web between his thumb and forefinger. “I probably should have warned you I’d brewed tea from wood betony and basil today. It’s very therapeutic.” She purposely didn’t tell him she’d chosen those herbs to help him cope with stress. She knew from former male patients, that men shied from any suggestion they might have mental or emotional problems.

      “Therapeutic or not, it tastes like shit. If I can’t have coffee, I’ll drink water.”

      “But the herbs in the tea will help you…regain strength,” she finally said.

      “Strength isn’t what I’m lacking. I’ve lost my sight. No damn tea is gonna help me see again. Where’s the oatmeal you said was ready? At least that should taste normal.”

      At the stove, Alexa paused. She’d already stirred in a small amount of lemon balm and vervain tincture into the hot cereal, although oats alone were thought to act as a minor antidepressant. She tasted the mixture, made a face and quickly sprinkled brown sugar over the portion she’d spooned into Rafe’s bowl.

      “I’ll take mine with milk—good old cow’s milk. We had goat’s milk in Afghanistan—talk about rank.”

      “Uh, milk. Just a minute.” Alexa quickly removed the small pitcher of warm goat’s milk from the table and rummaged in the refrigerator for the carton of regular milk she’d bought on her last trip into town. She sniffed it to make sure it hadn’t spoiled.

      “Here’s some nonfat. Sierra didn’t mention you were such a picky eater.”

      “Nonfat?” he parroted. “So, I guess you’re on a diet.”

      “No way.” Alexa unconsciously ran a hand down her slender hips. “Why on earth would you think that?” she asked rather huffily as she dumped milk on his oatmeal and stuck a spoon in his hand.

      He hiked up one shoulder. “Sierra switched to one-percent milk after her pediatrician said too many American kids are overweight.”

      “True. But in my case, nonfat has a longer shelf life. I don’t go to town often.”

      Rafe ate a few bites of the cereal, then lifted his head. Alexa held her breath, waiting for him to complain about the taste of the oatmeal. Instead, he said, “It took Sierra a long time to get here once we left the highway, so your place must be really off the beaten track. What’s the story behind that?”

      “The story?” Alexa scrambled for something to say. She wasn’t about to bring up Bobby, so instead, she settled on part of the truth. “My grandparents owned this ranch, so it was only logical for me to take it over. My primary occupation is gentling horses to sell to families who want a well-trained saddle horse. I think I mentioned the hot springs my grandparents discovered here. That’s another plus. My grandfather had degenerative arthritis and the springs were therapeutic for him. The area’s perfect for me because it’s so sparsely settled and the herbs that grow around here are uncontaminated. I gather native plants in my spare time.”

      Rafe scarfed down the rest of his oatmeal, and swallowed the pill she handed him before he stood. “It’s really none of my business. Your life, I mean. I shouldn’t have been so nosy.” Dropping his napkin on the table, he waved a hand in the air around him and seemed noticeably relieved when Compadre trotted up to head-butt his fingers.

      “Where are you going?” Alexa asked, quickly finishing her own oatmeal. “Give me a minute to rinse our dishes and stick them in the dishwasher, then we’ll go feed my menagerie.”

      “I’m going back to my room.”

      She pursed her lips. “There’s a three-quarter bath off the kitchen if you need to use the facilities before we go out to the barns.”

      “I don’t need the bathroom.”

      “Then wait here a minute. It’s closer to the barns if we СКАЧАТЬ