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He sat up and scooted back to lean against the dresser, scrubbed a hand over his sweaty face.
Wanting to give him a moment of privacy, she stood and headed into the bathroom. Flipping the light on, she noted a big Jacuzzi tub in the corner and a large glassed-in shower. For being a ranch in Montana, this place sure was luxurious. Dark towels hung on the rack by the shower, and she grabbed a washcloth, ran it under cold water in the sink. She wrung it out and hurried back to him.
He still sat on the floor, his good leg drawn up, arms resting on his knee, hands covering his face. The gray cotton gym shorts he’d put on yesterday were all he wore, and she couldn’t help drinking in his broad shoulders, muscled chest and arms, even the scars crisscrossed on his stomach.
“Here, Mr. Sullivan, let’s get you off the floor.” She bent over to help him up, but he shoved her hand away.
“Leave me alone. Please,” he rasped, his voice strangled.
Her heart broke for him. He had a lot more scars on the inside than out. She sank down on the floor beside him and nudged him with the cool washcloth. “Want to talk about it?”
He took the cloth from her and rubbed it over his face. “Not really.”
“Were you dreaming about the war?”
He finally lowered both arms and looked at her. “What part of ‘not really’ did you miss?”
“I just thought it might help if you talk—get it out of your head.” She stood up. “Come on, we need to get your therapy going.” She reached to help him up, but he ignored her.
Moving slow, he turned on the floor and braced himself against the dresser as he rose. Wood crutches stood in the corner, and he stretched farther to grab them.
She kept still, knowing from the hard lines of determination bracketing his lips he wouldn’t want her help. “I’ll be out in the living room,” she said, and walked out. Other patients had been stubborn about rehab and therapy. She’d just have to keep after him until she won him over.
* * *
NASH FINISHED BRUSHING his teeth and stuck the toothbrush in the holder on the counter. Without thinking, he glanced at himself in the mirror. Anger and despair bubbled to the surface once again as he caught sight of the scars. He’d practically named them—one for each of the men he’d lost.
A knock echoed through his bedroom. “Mr. Sullivan? You okay in there?”
He rolled his eyes but sucked it up and grabbed the crutches, swung out of the bathroom. He strapped on his prosthetic leg and threw on a T-shirt, loose sweats and sneakers, then hauled the door open. “Might as well call me Nash since I can’t get rid of you.”
She smiled. “Stubborn is a family trait, so it comes in handy sometimes. Shall we get started?”
They spent the morning working on exercises to strengthen his thighs, and by the time they were finished, he’d sweated through his T-shirt. Mopping his face off with a towel, he asked, “When can I get back on a horse?”
Kelsey stacked her equipment against the wall. “Let’s shoot for a couple of weeks, okay?”
“That long? I need to be up and riding faster than that.”
“Why? What’s the rush?”
He turned away and paced to the refrigerator. “Strong tourist season this year, and our ranch is full this summer. I need to help.” Opening a bottle of water, he drank deep.
“How long have you been home from the hospital?”
“Few months.”
“And you were in for how long?”
“Five.”
“You don’t seem to understand that recovery from an injury like this takes time. We can’t rush it, or we’ll be doing more harm than good.”
He handed her a bottle of water and opened another for himself. “I need to get to work. I’m out of the military, so I need to earn a living.”
“Nash, please. Talk to your family. I’m sure they’ll under—”
“No. Final answer.” He opened the door. “I suppose you’re coming back tomorrow for another torture session?”
“Yes. And I’m bringing my medieval bag of tricks for you.”
Feisty. “What time shall I expect the full rack?”
“Probably a little later than today. I have to look at a rental property.”
“I thought you lived in town.”
She shook her head. “Just moved here with my mom and daughter, so we’re in a motel until we can find a house. Place I was ready to sign on last night fell through.”
Guilt pricked him. She was driving an hour each way every day to help him, and he hadn’t been very nice. He brushed the guilt aside. It wasn’t like he’d invited her into his life of hell.
“Kelsey, I was hoping I’d catch you before you left.”
Nash turned at the sound of his dad’s voice from the front porch. Kelsey brushed past him, her fresh scent drifting on the air toward him.
“Mr. Sullivan, it’s nice to see you again.”
“Did I hear you’re looking for a place to live?”
“Yes, sir. I am.”
“I have just the thing for you, if you’re interested. There’s a cabin less than a quarter mile from here. Three bedrooms, two full baths, fully equipped kitchen.”
Nash’s temper rose. He didn’t want her here to begin with, and now she was moving in?
“Thank you, sir, but I couldn’t impose on you like this. I have a young daughter, and my mother lives with us.”
Relieved that she’d turned down his dad’s offer, he moved to go back inside.
“No imposition at all,” his dad replied.
What the hell? He tried to catch his dad’s attention and stop this bad idea from going further, but the old man kept talking like he hadn’t seen Nash shaking his head.
Just like always. Angus Sullivan ran roughshod, forcing his way of thinking onto his sons.
“You can live there as long as you like, or until you find a place of your own. It’s just sitting empty right now. And you can put your daughter in our ranch day care. The woman who runs it is fully licensed. One of the benefits we have for our employees.”
“You’re so kind, Mr. Sullivan.”
“No kindness at all. You’re the one who has to put up with my surly son, so it’s the least I can do. In fact, feel free to use any of the guests’ amenities—swimming, riding, cookouts. There’s a party tomorrow night—you and your family are welcome to attend. Our annual midsummer barbecue.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“If you’re through with Nash for the day, I’ll take you over to see the cabin right now. Just follow me.” His dad glanced back at him. If Nash didn’t know better, he’d have sworn there was a gleam in his eye.
“See you tomorrow, Nash,” she said, then got in her car.
“Dad, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
A loud screech, followed by a groan, then a backfire had them both wincing as Kelsey started her car.
“This will keep her from having to drive all hours of the day and night in that piece of shit car. Besides, don’t you want to get better?”
Fury rose, making him grind his teeth. He limped back into the cabin and slammed the door. The rapid-fire staccato of his dad’s laughter dug in deep, and he flinched.
Chapter Three (#uc3b996e8-e12f-51dc-8708-827a99496851)
Kelsey zipped up her jeans and looked in the mirror standing in the corner of her bedroom. Butterflies fluttered in her belly, and she smoothed a hand over the pink-and-white gingham shirt. She hated parties, hated the small talk, hated how lonely she always felt at gatherings now that Rob was gone. He’d been the one to talk to everyone, made sure she was included in conversations and never left her alone. Now she avoided parties like the proverbial plague.
But she’d let it slip to her mom while they were moving into the big cabin by the lake the day before that Mr. Sullivan had invited them to the barbecue. Nothing could keep Bunny Randolph from a social gathering.
“You ready, pumpkin? We need to get going so we aren’t late.”
She turned around as her mom walked in the door. Bound and determined to remain youthful looking, her freshly blond hair was curled to perfection.
“Kelsey Anne, is that what you’re wearing? Why don’t you put on a dress?” The words were punctuated with a swirl of her mother’s flowered skirt.
“Mom, it’s a barbecue. It’ll be outside. In the dirt.”
“But men will be there, honey. Cowboys.”
Her mom’s eyes gleamed, and Kelsey fought not to roll her eyes.
“I’m not interested in meeting any of them. I’ve got my hands full already with my patient.”
“Ooh! I can’t wait to meet hi—”
“Mom, no. He’s not a potential date, lover, boyfriend or husband. He’s my patient, and when he’s back up and running, we’ll be moving on to the next job.”
Her mother’s lips pouted. “I don’t see why you can’t dress up just a little. Show your appreciation for all Mr. Sullivan has done for us. Thank goodness he offered you this cabin. I couldn’t stand being cooped up in that motel one minute longer. I don’t see why the hospital couldn’t have helped out with the cost since you didn’t get the job we moved here for.”
“Once again, it’s not the hospital’s fault they lost the funding for a therapist. I just need to scrimp a little more and we can move on.”
The pout hadn’t left her mother’s red-lacquered lips, so she linked arms with her and pulled her toward the door. “Now we need to head on down to the lodge. Just because I’m not interested in the party doesn’t mean you can’t have fun. Okay?”
“All right.”
They walked in to the living room, and Kelsey still couldn’t believe her luck that they’d be living here for the time being. It was like a log cabin on steroids, with luxurious yet comfortable furnishings and plenty of Western decor.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the clear-as-a-bell lake edged with towering trees. This morning she’d been sipping a cup of steaming tea on the patio when two elk had wandered along the lakeshore, stopping to drink as the sun peeked over the mountain, turning their coats golden.
With the pile of debts Rob had left after his death, she hadn’t thought they’d ever get to stay in anything so nice. Especially for free.
Her daughter sat on the floor playing with an old plastic tea set her mom had gotten at a garage sale. Maddy did love setting it up and serving tea to her stuffed animals.
“Come on, Maddy. Time to go.” She ran a comb through Maddy’s black curls and kissed her chubby little cheek.
They piled into her car and drove toward the main lodge, about a half mile away. Parking and getting out, they were blasted by the sounds of a live country band. She spotted Hunter Sullivan as they neared the party, and waved, very glad to see a friendly face.
He nodded his head at her and walked toward them. “Hey, Kelsey. Who’s this little angel?” He tugged on one of Maddy’s dark curls, and she instantly giggled.
“Hi, Hunter. This is Maddy. And my mother, Bunny Randolph.”
“Ma’am, pleased to meet you.” He tipped his hat at her mother, then took Maddy’s tiny hand in his own. “And Miss Maddy, it’s a real honor to meet you. Will you save a dance for me?”
Maddy giggled again and buried her face in Kelsey’s shoulder. But before long, she peeked out at him again.
Why you little flirt. You take after Grandma, don’t you? But then, who can resist a cowboy like Hunter? He certainly was good-looking, and his green eyes sparkled back at her daughter. Definitely a charmer.
Turning around, she looked for Nash, finally spotting him in the shadows. He seemed to be staring at someone. Or more accurately, shooting daggers at them.
“Hunter, who is that over by the speakers?”
He glanced up, then frowned. “That’s Mindy and her husband, Ben. She and Nash dated in college. Till Ben stole her from him. They never come to these parties.” He made a sound of disapproval, his frown deepening. “Why now?”
“Is he still hung up on her?”
“Nah. I think he’s more pissed he lost his best friend than her.”
“They can’t still be friends?”
He shrugged. “Nash hasn’t gone out much—actually at all—since he’s been home.” He frowned once more, then smiled at her and patted his flat stomach. “I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.”
They walked to the buffet tables set up near the dance floor. Something roasted on a spit, and the tantalizing aroma made her mouth water. The table was lined with bowl after bowl of salads, from green to three kinds of potato, and pasta salads. Baskets filled to overflowing with buns and rolls were next, then chips and dips. She groaned, wanting to try everything. A carving station with several types of meats sat apart from the buffet line, and she spotted a staggering array of red meat and barbecued chicken.
Nash’s father had explained that while this was a guest ranch, they were also a working cattle ranch.
“Mommy, cake!”
She looked to see Maddy pointing at two more tables loaded with desserts: cakes, pies, cookies and a portable soft-serve ice-cream machine. The Sullivans sure knew how to throw a party.
“Come on and sit with me,” Hunter said, leading the way to one of the picnic tables.
Not long after they’d started eating, three men and a little boy joined them at the table. Each one set their plates down, then tipped their cowboy hats at her and her mother.
“Kelsey, Bunny and Maddy, these are my brothers. Kade and his son, Toby. Wyatt is the ugly one with the long hair in the middle. Luke at the end of the table.”
A chorus of “ma’am’s” echoed all around, and Kelsey was a little overwhelmed at the sheer testosterone flooding the air. Every one of them was tall, dark and really, did they all have to be so ruggedly good-looking?
