Cowboy on the Run (22 page)

Once at the ramp, Nate pressed the brakes on the chair and extended a hand to help Doyle to his feet. Reluctant, the man accepted, rising slow and shaky to a standing position. His equilibrium was still a little off, and he swayed on his feet.

“Of course, I told him to bring the bus,” Sandy stated. “I couldn’t let you ride on the back of Nate’s motorcycle, could I? Or a horse for that matter. I’m sure Black Fury would have been more than willing to give you a ride home!”

She smiled and stood in front of the door, her eyes lit with complete joy. She was hopeless, the love for her husband blinding. Doyle stopped grumbling long enough to enamor his wife with a love stricken stare of his own.

Nate turned his head away, feeling as if he were invading the couple’s private moment. He hoped to see the same look from Jessie one day.

If that day ever came.

She still hadn’t returned or accepted any of his phone calls, although he had been fortunate enough to talk to the kids and her father every day. Thomas had continued to encourage his hope, telling him to be patient with her. His exact words: She will come around.

Come around?

Nate’s patience was beginning to wear thin. Damn the woman was stubborn!

After helping his friend through the door, he seated himself in the driver’s seat, watching the couple in his rearview mirror.

Sandy guided Doyle down the narrow aisle, pecking at him like a nervous hen. “You have to be careful, doctor’s orders. I don’t want you to take another fall.” She held onto his arm as he tried to fit his large frame in the thin aisle, bumping his hip as a reward.

“Damn it woman!” he snapped, rubbing the injury. “If you were so worried about me not falling, maybe you should have picked me up in a different vehicle. Now, let go of my arm so I can get to a seat. Lord knows there are enough of them to choose from.”

Doyle shook off his wife’s resilient grip and lost his balance. Nate started to rise to help, but saw his friend catch himself on the nearest seat.

“How about you humor me and let me take care of you, you stubborn old goat?” Sandy quipped, leaving little room for discussion. She eased him down into the seat, sliding in beside him. “Besides, I haven’t raised the premium on your life insurance, yet. You aren’t worth one red cent to me dead,” she added with a sweet smile.

Doyle released a low chuckle, grabbing her hand.

Nate glanced away from the tender scene. Seeing the entire heartfelt reflection in the rearview mirror had been enough to make him miss Jessie even more as he started up the bus.

In less than half an hour, he steered into the circular driveway of the O-K Corral. Sandy helped Doyle out of the bus, somehow with a deaf ear to his loud, vocal complaints.

Once inside the house, she sat him on the couch then left to gather his medication. Nate chuckled at his friend who sat, sulking and grumpy, swallowed up in the midst of various colorful flowers of the floral print couch.

Sandy came back from the kitchen, a large glass of water in one hand, a handful of pills in another. “I don’t know why you have to take some of these pills,” she said, shaking her head.

“Like this little white one. You’ll get a kick out of this Doyle.” Sandy chuckled holding up a small pill. “It says it’s for your dizziness, but the side effect may
cause
dizziness. Go figure, huh? Well, I guess, according to the doctor, you have to take it anyway,” she said, handing the pills to him. “Now, give me just a minute and I’ll whip up a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches.” A second later, she was gone,

“She’s one hell of a woman,” Nate remarked. “She was pretty messed up about you, Doyle. We all were.”

“Foolish to get all worked up over a little bump on the head,” he grumbled, although the bite in his words had softened.

“A little bump?” Nate stared in astonishment. But remembering how Doyle hated to be fussed over, he changed his strategy. “You’re right. I guess it’s stupid to worry about you and your hard head. Even if the little bump landed you in the hospital. Yeah, you’re right. It’d take more than a knock on the noggin to keep you down. Still, I was pretty worried for a minute.”

Nate paced across the living room in order to get a better hold of his thoughts. “Do you remember when we were at my spread and you said something about Justin? You said he could bolt if triggered?”

Doyle jumped to his feet, holding his head to block the pain the sudden movement caused. “Did he run? Is he all right?”

Nate eased his friend back down to a seated position, overwhelmed by the concern in the injured man’s eyes. He understood, becoming just as devoted to his kids—all twelve of them.

“He’s fine. Settle down. Just...when you mentioned it, I kind of thought you were talking about me.”

“Oh, hell son, you scared me.” Doyle sank back, disappearing into the flowers again. “So, we are talking about you then?” He chuckled, relaxing a bit. “Hell, you don’t think you’re the only cowboy who gets a little antsy as soon as the grass grows an inch taller than your boots, do you? Kind of like an itch you can’t scratch?” He cradled his head with one hand and patted a couch cushion with the other.

“Sit down for a spell. Looking up at you is killing me. ‘Sides, I’ve got something to say to you. Something I’ve needed to say to you for a long time now.”

“I always hated this couch.” Nate scowled, finding a place beside his friend. He adjusted himself until he was comfortable.

“Yeah, me too, but don’t let Sandy hear you say it. She claims it’s comfortable. ‘Sides, if you say something, we’d have two more of ‘em just like it out of pure spite.”

Nate nodded, knowing how true Doyle’s words were.

“I have no clue where she could find another couch this ugly. But, knowing my wife, she’d find a way.” A grin spread across his face. After a moment of silence, a somber expression replaced the smile. “Do you ever wonder why you and I get along so well?”

Nate shrugged, urging his friend to continue.

“It’s because we’re so much alike. You and me, we’re like two peas in a pod. Yeah, you remind me a little of myself about twenty or so years ago. Not so much now, but when you first got here...man, it was like watching an old movie. You remember? You were so restless...so ready to go off like a bomb.”

Nate shifted his weight, sinking deeper into the quicksand of flowers. He remembered. The angst...the running away. All a part of his past he wanted to forget. Not repeat.

“Why do you think we hired you? It was pure instinct. Takes a special kind of person to deal with these kids...one who’s been knocked around by this world a bit. I wasn’t sure you would stay, but Sandy...well, she couldn’t be swayed otherwise. She knew you would stick. Has that peculiar faith in people.”

Nate nodded his head. He’d seen the way she believed in people. However, the man seated beside him was a different story. He didn’t trust like his wife, rarely letting his guard down unless someone earned his conviction. “How did you know Sandy was the one for you?”

Doyle released another loud chuckle. “That’s easy, son. She told me so.” He laughed again and held his head. “No, I’m just joshing you. The truth is, she just got under my skin. I couldn’t shake her. And she told me so.”

“Lord, you make me sound like some kind of blood-sucking parasite,” Sandy interrupted. She placed a plate in front of each one of them as Nate witnessed Doyle eye the dark brown bread with a weary stare and arched eyebrow.

“Yeah, but you’re
my
little parasite.” He jabbed the bread with an index finger before raising his head and smiling at her, somehow making the words less insulting and bringing a little sparkle to her eyes. “Thanks for the sandwich, blood sucker.”

“Eat it then,” she demanded in mock anger.

“I will, but don’t think you’re fooling me. Burning my sandwich doesn’t hide the fact this is wheat bread instead of white.”

In response, Sandy placed her hands on her hips, and Nate saw a spark of real anger in her stare.

She pointed a finger in the direction of her husband. “Can’t fool you, can I? You are a real smart one, Doyle Rawlings. Yep, I picked a winner. Well, you can just get used to eating healthy. No more junk food, doctor’s orders. The doc and I had a little chat about your diet. He says your cholesterol is sky high,” she shouted before leaving the room

Doyle turned back to him, showcasing a satisfied smile. “I love stoking her fire.” He took a large bite out of his sandwich, chasing it down with a little water. “But honestly, it didn’t take me being roped and hog-tied to know Sandy was the girl for me. In spring, it will be twenty-five years. Can you believe it? Twenty-five years.” He took another bite. A string of melted cheese clung to the bread. “Went by quick, too,” he stated, with a distant expression. “Even if it wasn’t always easy.”

Several minutes later he redirected his attention back to Nate. “What the hell’s in this wheat bread anyway? Sorry, Nate. Must be these pills making me all sappy.” He wiped at the corner of his eye with the back of his sleeve. “What’s this about? Are you thinking about your gal?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Nate nodded his head. “I know Jess is the one for me. I get the part about not being able to shake her. She’s always been on my mind. But the thing is...” He released a loud sigh. “The thing is...well, I’m not sure she thinks I’m the one for her. Hell, I’m not sure I
am
the one for her. Before I left, she was so distant. And since I’ve been here, she hasn’t accepted even one of my calls. I think I blew it.” Nate put his head in his hands. “I guess I can’t blame her. I let her down. I ran out on her before. Seems I’m always running on her.”

Doyle winced, releasing a shrill whistle. Nate nodded in total agreement. Distracted, he picked up his sandwich, then placed it back down. His thoughts whipped inside his head like the beginning of a tornado. His friend’s reaction pretty much settled it. Things
were
as bad as he thought.

“I’m not sure I am good enough for her,” Nate continued.

“Why don’t you let Jessie decide? Oh hell, son, even a blind man could see how much the little lady loves you. She may just need some more convincing that’s all. Most women need a little convincing at one time or another. And the bull shit about not being good enough? Where in tarnation did that come from? Not good enough...” Doyle glared. “Second thought...you may be onto something. Truth is, you aren’t ever gonna be good enough for the likes of her. Do you think I’m good enough for Sandy?”

Nate took a bite out of his sandwich, shaking his head.

“Well, I’m not. Sandy might as well have been dropped straight down from heaven. I still can’t find any flaws with the woman, other than putting up with me. But you, Nate...” He leaned forward and shook a finger. “You’ve come a long way from the restless cowboy we first hired. Been a long time since you wanted to run, hasn’t it?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah—it is the best policy.”

“When I was headed here to see you in the hospital, I thought about staying on the bike. I guess I was scared to see you all laid up. And when I first left the ranch, it felt good. I liked being on the bike again. Like old times, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. Can’t say I’d appreciate visiting you in the hospital much either. And as far as being on the bike, hell, I still get that itch. Why do you think I head to the mountains every September? You think I really need to shoot a buck with all of this home grown hamburger around here?” Doyle shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “Hell no. It’s to get away. We all need a little time to ourselves. There’s just one difference. I may get an itching to go somewhere, but I can’t wait to get back here. To see Sandy and the boys. Remember last year I cut my trip short? I was back at the Corral two days earlier than I had planned on being.”

Nate nodded his head, agreeing with his friend’s wise words. He’d been experiencing the same urge, the need to return home, and finding he was short tempered and irritable as of late. His head began to spin with ways to convince Jessie his running days were over.

“By the way, how are your kids?” Doyle intruded on his thoughts.

“Good, the boys are all doing well. Trent’s been keeping them in line. You know, cracking the whip.” He flashed a grin while pretending to whip the air. “William and Rosie have helped. They even want to work with the boys on a full time basis.”

“That’s good, but I meant
your
kids,” Doyle said, staring at him with an earnest expression. “You’ve done all you can here. There’s no easy way to say this, seeing how I’ve enjoyed your company and all, but it’s time for you to go home, son. ‘Sides, Jessie’s not gonna wait forever.”

Chapter 27

Jessie threw herself into work, taking today’s frustration out on the John Deere, and shoving it into drive a little too rough. The tractor’s gears screeched in response. But even work did little to change her thought pattern especially with the hot afternoon sun baking her skin. She simply couldn’t get rid of the aching feeling Nate left for more reasons other than Doyle’s accident.

She respected he was helping out his friends during their time of crisis, but truth was, Nate was gone because of her. She had seen it in his eyes the night by the creek. Once again, she had demanded more than he could give. He couldn’t love her. Not in the way she loved him. Not the way she needed to be loved.

The truth sent a burning fever through her veins, heating her to the core, hotter than the midday sun. She brushed the back of her arm over her forehead, wiping the sweat off her brow. Hoping a shower would cool her off, she headed back to the house. If she were lucky, it would wash away the painful intensity of Nate’s honesty that kept haunting her.

A glance at her watch told her it would have to be a quick shower. She had less than an hour to be at the Lucky Horseshoe, which just so happened to house another thorn in her side.

Alan.

The man had been acting so weird. Insisting upon helping her on every little task she did, refusing to accept no for an answer. She caught him staring at her constantly, or he followed her around the bar, and worse, home from the bar at the end of every shift.