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Jenny walked over and gathered the placemats together. “What happened?”
Ty kept wiping, scrubbing at a nonexistent spot on the table. “So, how many units of insulin did you give Morgan today?”
She put her hand on his forearm, sending warmth up his arm and into his body. “I think the table’s clean,” she said, her voice soft and devoid of reproach. “I’m sure you’d like to change the subject, but I think I have the right to know what happened with Morgan’s mom.”
He jerked his brows together, then abruptly straightened, glaring at her. “Oh, really?”
She glared back. “Yes, really. Your ex-wife not only left you, she left Morgan. As her nanny, I think I should know some details.”
He hated to admit it, but she had a point. Even though it raised the bile in his throat to discuss his ex-wife’s appalling actions with anyone, maybe he needed to let Jenny in on what had happened. For Morgan’s sake only, of course.
He paced toward the sink. “Andrea wasn’t happy living way out here.” He flung the sponge into the sink, familiar, overpowering bitterness rising in him. “Said it was boring and dull. Even after Morgan was born, she was restless and took off for Portland every other weekend to shop and visit friends. Still, we had a daughter, and I had hope.” For love. Peace. A happily-ever-after.
He stopped and shook his head. “I was a fool for hoping for anything. The second Morgan was diagnosed with diabetes, Andrea was out of here, saying she couldn’t handle having a child with a chronic disease.” He snorted. “Just like that she left, and I haven’t seen her since.”
Jenny remained quiet for a moment. “She deserted you,” she said in a monotone. It was a bald-faced, razorsharp statement that cut deep.
His hackles shot to the roof. “Dammit,” he ground out, swinging away, floored by her tactless statement. “No kidding she deserted us.”
Jenny placed her small hand on his rigid arm for a moment. “No, that came out wrong. What I meant was that I’m just…incredulous that a woman would willingly throw away her husband and child.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry for being so blunt. It’s just that as a widow who had no control over my loss, I can’t imagine choosing to walk away.”
Slowly his hackles relaxed. “That makes sense,” he said, seeing the pain and contrition in her eyes. “Sorry I overreacted.”
She smiled, then bent down and pushed the dishwasher closed. “I understand. It’s easy to overreact when the wounds are fresh, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he said slowly. “I guess it is.” He rolled a shoulder. “Although, I don’t like to think of myself as wounded.”
“I guess that’s my perspective.” She hung the dish towel on its hook on the refrigerator. “Jack’s death left a wound that I’m not sure will ever heal.”
For some reason, the thought of this vibrant woman being wounded for the rest of her life bothered him. “So does that mean you’re never planning on marrying again?” Strange how the question seemed suddenly very important.
She was quiet for a second, then softly said, her voice tinged in sadness, “That’s right. I loved and lost once. I don’t plan on ever doing that again.”
He straightened the chairs around the table, again somehow saddened that a beautiful young woman like Jenny was planning on being alone for the rest of her life. Funny how he could imagine himself that way, but not her. “Hey, I get that.” Boy, did he. “Depending on someone will burn every single time.”
She turned around and leaned back against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest. “Seems we have a lot in common, don’t we?”
Before he could reply to her statement, Ava called out, asking Jenny to come see the funny doggy on TV. With an understanding smile that Ty liked way too much, Jenny left the kitchen, leaving him alone, one disturbing thought running around in his brain.
They did share a connection. She’d been trampled by love, just like he had. She undoubtedly understood him on a level he had never expected, in a way that made him feel open and vulnerable.
And that scared him to death.
Chapter Three
The next day, which had dawned full of blue sky and warm sunshine, Jenny sat on the patio in the backyard, watching the girls play on the yellow-and-green plastic play structure. Again, she was thankful the entire yard was protected by a four-foot-high chain-link fence, keeping the girls in and any dangerous farm animals out. Just the thought of Ava or Morgan escaping into the working part of the ranch and getting hurt—she was thinking large horses and cows and dangerous equipment—sent shivers of dread down her spine.
She’d just fed them a lunch of leftover macaroni and cheese. They’d play for a few more minutes, then she’d put them down for their naps. Given that she’d been awake most of the night, thinking about a certain blue-eyed cowboy, she’d probably take a snooze, too.
Though she’d tried to keep her thoughts on taking care of Ava and Morgan, all day long she’d been repeating her nighttime musings, dwelling instead on what Ty had revealed to her the night before.
His wife had deserted him and Morgan.
And that broke her heart.
As she’d told Ty, because of her personal experience with loss, she had a hard time wrapping her brain around how a woman could willingly walk away from her family. She had no comprehension of what Ty’s wife had done. She doubted she’d ever understand the woman’s heartless actions.
What she did understand was the pain she’d seen clouding Ty’s blue eyes.
They were a lot alike.
That thought quickly led to another, more bothersome, conclusion.
She couldn’t deny that he appealed to her. He was quickly shaping up to be a man whom she was incredibly drawn to, a man who might tempt her down a road she never wanted to travel again. That was a risk she didn’t even want to think about.
She bit her lip and crossed her arms over her chest. Ty was dangerous. As long as she remembered that, she’d be fine. Thank the Lord he didn’t spend much time at home. If she could make it through occasional dinners he showed up for, she could always manage to sneak away into her room the second the girls went to bed.
A screech drew her attention away from her dire thoughts to the girls. Ava was running around with Morgan’s favorite stuffed bunny in her hand and Morgan was chasing her, screaming. Morgan, who was taller and faster, caught up to Ava and ripped the bunny out of her hand with a howl, then turned and ran away with her prize. Ava burst into tears and plopped her diaper-protected bottom onto the ground and sat there, wailing. Morgan ran to the far corner of the fenced yard, then turned around, her bunny clutched close, and glared at Ava. “My bunny!” she shrieked.
Jenny sighed and stood. Nap time. With some soothing words to both overtired kids, Jenny scooped Ava up and took Morgan by the hand and led them inside for their naps.
Luckily, both girls were dead tired. After a quick diaper change, Jenny settled them both into their cribs, Morgan in her room, Ava in Jenny’s, and they both drifted immediately off to sleep.
Intending to nap, too, Jenny went to the kitchen for a glass of water before heading back down the hall to her room. As she was leaving the kitchen, Dusty burst through the front door, his face red, his battered cowboy hat askew.
“Where’s Sam?” he asked, his eyes darting around the front room. “Emergency!”
Jenny’s stomach fell. Before she could react, Sam stepped into the living room. “I’m right here,” he said, his mouth pressed into a grim line. “What’s he done this time?”
“Old Roscoe jammed him in the ribs.” Dusty took off his hat, shook his head, then replaced the dust-coated thing. “Man that bull’s mean.”
Jenny stood frozen, ice-cold panic seeping into her. “A…a bull has hurt Ty?”
Sam moved past her. “Looks like it.”
She swallowed the bitter taste of fear coating her throat. “Where is he?”
Dusty hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Right outside in the back of the rig. I had a helluva time—uh, pardon me, ma’am—getting him in there. Ty wanted to walk back.”
Jenny put herself into motion, hurriedly following a muttering Sam out the front door. Her knees shook. Bulls could gore people, could kill them with one swipe of their horns, could trample a man in seconds. Dear heaven, had that happened to Ty? No, no. Dusty had said Ty wanted to walk. His injury couldn’t be that bad. She hoped.
Dusty had pulled the dented truck right up in front of the house. By the time Jenny arrived, Sam was already lowering the liftgate of the truck to reveal an ashen-faced Ty, strung out on his back in the bed of the truck on a threadbare blanket like a fallen soldier.
Jenny relaxed a bit when she didn’t see blood or any other obvious signs of goring. Aside from the dirt smearing his flannel shirt and jeans, he was relatively clean. Although the scowl on his face and the grim shadows in his eyes made it clear he was angry as well as in a great deal of pain.
Sam climbed into the back of the truck. “What happened?” he asked, kneeling down next to his son.
Ty shifted and tried to lift a broad shoulder, grimacing. “Just dealing with Roscoe.” He gingerly pressed a hand to his lower chest and closed his eyes briefly. “Think my ribs might be broken.”
“Dammit, Ty,” Sam said, his jaw noticeably tight. “Why don’t you let someone else handle that ornery bull once in a while? You know he has it in for you.”
Ty pulled his brows together and shot his dad a searing look. “You know I always handle Roscoe. Don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”
Jenny stared at Ty, an eerie sense of déjà vu running through her, chilling her from the inside out, creating a dull ache in her chest. How many times had she heard Jack say that very same thing?
With an under-the-breath snort, she cut off her thoughts. What was wrong with her? She was a medical professional. This wasn’t the time to get all clogged up and sentimental thinking about Jack. She needed to be strong and efficient and take care of Ty. With a lift of her chin, she climbed up into the back of the truck and knelt down next to him.
“Where are the girls?” he asked in a low, raspy voice.
“Napping,” she replied with a forced smile. “No need to worry about them.”
He nodded, then sank back onto the bed of the truck. “Good.”
“Let me have a look,” she said, donning her trusty professional veneer.
Ty made noises of argument under his breath, but she ignored him. “Don’t even try to argue. I’ll have to unbutton your shirt to examine you,” she said, briefly meeting his intense blue gaze. She stared him down, telling him, without words, that he better not mess with Nurse Jenny.
He inclined his head. “Bossy all the time, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “You bet.” Without asking for any more permission, she reached out and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his firm, well-muscled, lightly haired chest.
His scent—man, earth and sweat—wafted across the air, raising her feminine awareness to a level that surprised her. She tried desperately to stay in impersonal-nurse mode and think of him as just a patient, as a man who’d been injured and needed her help.
But kneeling next to Ty, unbuttoning his shirt, sent tendrils of heat into her blood that she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. And that absolutely terrified her. It was all she could do not to snatch her hands away and bolt.
She glanced at his face, noting the pain in his eyes. She looked back down, steeling herself to go on. He needed her—no, he needed her nursing skills. She had no excuse right now for giddy blushes, a racing heart and unprofessional behavior. So she stoically continued, determined to ignore that Ty McCall was very well put together and that he affected her in a way she’d never thought she’d experience again.
She bit her lip. Too bad ignoring those things was an almost impossible task.
Hell, Ty thought, tightening his jaw. He’d seen the concern shining in Jenny’s eyes and the way she was chewing on her lower lip. Damn that ornery bull, anyway, and damn himself for putting her through this right out of the chute.
Another thought occurred to him. Would she take off at the first sign of trouble? For Morgan’s sake, he hoped to hell not. Right now, Jenny seemed plenty up to the task of dealing with an injury, and was a bossy little thing to boot. He kind of liked that.
She bent closer and continued to unbutton his shirt. He looked away, determined not to ogle her creamy skin, long, feathery eyelashes and kissable lips. It was bad enough he’d been all over noticing her when she’d tended to his cut face last week.
She was a nurse and his daughter’s nanny, for pity’s sake, not some woman he was supposed to be so damn fascinated with. Besides, his ribs felt half-caved in and hurt like nobody’s business. Noticing a woman should be—had to be—lower than low on his list.
He gave a mental snort. Revise that thought, McCall. Being so aware of Jenny shouldn’t even be on his list at all.
Noted and acknowledged.
Intent on her job, her bottom lip still clamped between her teeth, she moved his unbuttoned shirt aside, looking at the swollen area where Roscoe had nailed him. Ty swore he could see her hands shaking.
Without looking up, she said, “It looks pretty bruised.” She glanced at him, her green eyes soft. “I’m going to have to touch the injured area. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
She hesitated a moment, then put one hand on him, touching an uninjured area. Then she moved her hands to a tender spot and gently pressed. Pain knifed through him, sharp and deep.
He grunted under his breath but didn’t pull away as she palpated his ribs, gently testing for injury. Her touch was cool and tender on his skin, despite the hand-curling ache her examination caused. He gritted his way through the fiery pain, eager to have this examination over and done with.
Finally, she dropped her hands and sat back on her heels. “I’m pretty sure at least one rib is broken, more if I’m not mistaken.” She swiveled her head to look at his dad. “He’s definitely going to have to go to the hospital and have them x-rayed and also to have them check for a punctured lung.”
His dad nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s what I figured.”
Jenny stood and moved away, taking her sweet scent with her. Ignoring the throb in his side, Ty fidgeted, intending to pull himself to a sitting position so he could stand. He got halfway up and knife blades of fire shot through his torso, almost overwhelming him. A grunt of pain escaped from his mouth.
Instantly, Jenny was at his side, her arms going around him to ease him back down into the truck. “Hey, now, you ought to stay lying down.”
He grimaced, then shook his head, now more aware of the pain than her closeness. “There’s no damn way I’m gonna ride into Baker City in the back of the rig like a dog.”
She sat back on her heels and glared at him. “Are you always this stubborn and difficult?” she asked, raising a brow.
His dad chimed in. “Oh, yeah. Ty’s as stubborn as the cussed bull who rammed him.”
Ty glared at his dad. “Okay, so I’m stubborn. I admit it. There’s still no way I’m riding to the hospital in the back of this truck.” He gave Jenny a steady look. “Help me into the passenger seat.”
“It’s going to hurt,” she said, her lips thin. “A lot.”
He raised a hand. “I don’t care. Just get me out of the back of this truck. Dad, I could probably use your help, too.”
She nodded. “All right. I can see arguing is useless.”
Moving was agony, but Ty bit the bullet and did it anyway, keeping his instinctive groans of pain glued to the back of his throat. Getting out of the bed of the truck was tricky, since it required bending slightly, but he bore the twisting pain and lowered himself to the ground. A few steps later, he made it to the door of the truck.
Jenny put a hand on his arm. “Sitting is going to hurt more,” she said softly. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
He nodded, feeling sweat bead on his forehead. “I’m sure,” he said, his mouth pulled tight.
When he slid awkwardly into the passenger seat, it felt as if someone was jabbing him in the ribs with a white-hot branding iron. Holding back a grunt, he rode through the pain as best he could, clamping down on his thigh with one hand.
Jenny leaned in, her eyes full of concern, and touched the rigid hand on his thigh. “Relax,” she whispered in a low, soothing voice, rubbing his hand. “Pain is worse when you tense up.”
He met her greenish-gold gaze, liking the feel of her hand on his too much. She stared at him, and despite the fiery ache in his torso, he found himself caught up in her, unable to look away, unable to move. Her touch scorched through him.
She broke the spell and moved back, her eyes wide, then slammed the door of the truck and walked around the back of the rig. He gritted his teeth, shaking his head. He had to get a grip.
After a brief conversation with Jenny, his dad climbed into the driver’s seat, started the ignition and headed out.
Ty did his best to focus on the pain ripping through him rather than on the one thought that was taking up all of the space in his brain, making him wonder what the hell kind of fool he was.
Another time and another place, he wouldn’t have let Jenny walk away. He would have slid a hand up under her hair, pulled her close and kissed her.
And that was a stupid idea if he’d ever had one.
For the rest of the day, Jenny thanked the stars above that she had to tend to the demands of two wild toddlers. Although that really hadn’t kept her mind off of not only the sizzling look that had passed between her and Ty in the truck, but also how worried she was about him.
Much too often a rogue thought came hurtling into her brain, bringing back the sheer excitement that had ricocheted through her when she’d met his intense sky-blue gaze and had just about fainted. Unbelievably, all she’d been able to think about was how much she wished he’d kiss her!
How dumb was that? Aside from Ty being injured, she had no business getting so caught up in a man again, a dangerous proposition if she’d ever thought of one. Being so fascinated by Ty was ridiculous. Useless. Stupid. Besides, he was her boss. She had to keep things on a professional level only. Good plan.
