The Bull Rider's Homecoming. Allie Pleiter

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       Chapter Four

      “You came back.”

      Ruby couldn’t read the look on Luke’s face Wednesday morning as he opened the guesthouse door. Was he surprised, pleased or irritated? Likely all of the above, she decided. “Yes, I am. Surprised?”

      At least he’d met her at the door, not just left it open as if she were some stray animal allowed to wander in. It was easier this time—she’d survived the initial shock of seeing him. She’d always wondered what it would feel like to see him again, and now she knew. He had less power over her composure now. Oh, he could still set her stomach tumbling with one look—a gal would have to be dead not to feel something when those brilliant blues met hers—but the tumble was something other than attraction now. Nostalgia? Regret? Pity?

      Whatever it was, Ruby knew it wasn’t anger. Determination, maybe, but not anger. “Clock’s a’ ticking, cowboy. Are you going to let me in or are we going to chitchat in your doorway?”

      Luke scratched his chin. “Yes, ma’am.” Clearly he wasn’t expecting the “all business” version of Ruby today. He gestured her inside, but stood where he was so she had to sidestep close to him to gain entrance. Classic Luke, Ruby thought as she set down her bag. Always going for the swoon.

      Well, today was business. She pointed to Luke’s sneakers. “I see you took my suggestion.” She’d shown him grace and compassion on her last visit, because he deserved it. He’d admitted a weakness to her in the business about the boots, and she knew how hard that was for him. Today, she’d make him work, and she hoped her request for athletic footwear gave him a hint of what to expect.

      “I do know how to cooperate,” he teased, flashing a smile.

      “Is that so? Give me thirty minutes before I agree, will you?” She found the chair he’d sat on last week and moved it to the center of the floor. “Have a seat.”

      Last time, it had taken Luke almost a full minute to acquiesce and sit down. Ruby had no intention of letting it turn into a battle of wills this time. Instead, she dropped her bag to the floor as if this were no big deal, sat down at the foot of the chair the way she had before, and began pulling equipment out of her bag. She didn’t even look up at Luke. Instead, she adopted an air of expected compliance, fiddling and arranging her equipment until he settled himself uneasily in the chair in front of her. See now, that wasn’t so hard for either of us.

      Ruby positioned his feet. “Raise your toes, one foot at a time.”

      He scoffed. “I figured we’d start with something a bit harder than toe touches.”

      “Ankle flexing,” she corrected, “and you’ll get the hard stuff when you’ve earned it. Plus, you have to answer questions while you do them.” She placed her hand a few inches above Luke’s feet, giving him a target. He easily tapped her palm with his right toes, but struggled to hit her palm with his left. “Any tingling or burning sensations in the morning?”

      “No,” he replied. “Are you married?”

      Startled, she looked up at him. “What?”

      “You get a question, so I get a question. Fair’s fair.”

      Ruby sat back. “That’s not how this goes.” She returned her hand to above his feet. “Again, please, five times each.”

      Luke began the exercises, but launched a running commentary as he did so. “I’m guessing no, on account of I’d probably have heard about it if you were. And your name’s still Sheldon.”

      “Lots of women keep their names when they marry these days, Luke.” She noticed his left foot was raising lower and lower with each attempt. Numbness aside, Luke had lost a lot of muscle strength.

      “Maybe, but not you. You’d be Mrs. Whoever. So there is no Mr. Whoever, is there?”

      Ruby grabbed Luke’s ankles and gently tugged them toward her. It was time to let Luke know she wasn’t putting up with any antics. She could throw him off balance—literally—anytime she chose to do so.

      “Whoa,” he yelped as he gripped the chair to keep upright. “A little warning, if you don’t mind.”

      “A little courtesy, if you don’t mind. Toes in and out, making a V, ten times. Count them out, so you won’t be tempted to flap your jaw.”

      With just a touch of repentant rascal in his eyes, Luke complied. When he finished, she offered, “I’m single. And fine with it, I might add, not that you’d understand.”

      “Hey, I’m single too, you know.”

      “Single with a long line of buckle bunnies trailing after you, which isn’t the same thing.” Ruby moved to kneel beside his good leg. “Raise your foot out in front of you, knee-high, ten times,” and when he opened his mouth to make some smart-aleck comeback she added, “Counting out loud.”

      Luke settled back in his chair, giving her a look Ruby presumed Gran was sick of by now. “One...two... I’m generous with my time to fans...three...four...no harm in that.”

      “So I’ve heard. Not that I follow your career closely.” She had tried to keep from following Luke’s career at all, but in Martins Gap that was easier said than done. People never spoke directly to her about it, given their history, but it wasn’t hard to see a clipping posted on the bulletin board at Lolly’s Diner or hear neighbors boast at Shorty’s Pizza. The whole church had prayed for him when word of the accident hit town.

      “Eight... I got enough get-well cards...nine...to wallpaper the guesthouse three times over.” While that had the air of exaggeration she’d expect from Luke Buckton, she didn’t doubt that the cards had poured in after his injury. Even Ruby knew, however, that the “Will Buckton return?” speculation in sports media had dropped off СКАЧАТЬ