Texas Daddy. Jolene Navarro
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glance.
“It’s okay, just surprised me.”
Fresh blood bubbled from the wound. Pulling a bandanna out of his pocket, he applied pressure. “Here, hold this. I think I almost have it.” He stood and took off his duster. Throwing it over a nearby rocking chair, he went back to work. “So riding your bike off-trail in the rain is part of your therapy?”
“I figured it wouldn’t be much different than the stationary bike they have me on in the office.”
He laughed. He shook his head as he slipped the last chain from under the metal hinge on her brace. “You might have gone backward in your recovery. The chain did a number on your skin, and the knee looks discolored and swollen. You need to elevate and put ice on it.”
Biting hard on her lip, she tilted her head back, eyes squeezed shut. Each breath was deep and hard.
He wanted to cover her free hand and stop it from rubbing her thigh red. He had never seen anyone work so hard not to cry. “Nikki, it’s going to be okay.”
“I can’t take this anymore. I have to get better. I need to get back to work.”
“Rushing it will only make the recovery longer.” A gust of wind pushed rain onto the porch. “Let’s get inside and clean all this mud off. Last thing you want is an infection.”
* * *
Do not cry. Only the weak cried. She was not weak. The last thing she wanted was Adrian seeing her pathetic self-pity, or anyone, for that matter. Weakness gave people the impression they could use you.
Standing, Nikki tried to put weight on her bad leg, but sharp pain shot up her spine, threatening to bring her to her knees. Swallowing down a scream, she instinctively reached out to Adrian for support.
What she really wanted was to be whole again, independent and strong. She’d get her life back.
She had to. Being in Clear Water was too painful, and it brought secrets too close to the surface.
Twelve years separated her from the past. She had made the mistake thinking she was over it. It was easier to forget when you weren’t surrounded by reminders.
Allowing Adrian to help settle her into one of the ladder-back chairs, she traced the patterns in the wood her grandpa had carved. When she saw her mother’s study Bible, she stopped breathing. “How did that get here?”
“What? Oh, the Bible. I found it tucked away when I was looking for—”
“Put it back.” She closed her eyes. “Please.”
“Sure. Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“I just don’t wanna see it.” A burn started at her arm. An angry red scratch showed through her fitted shirt. The sleeve of her favorite workout top had a rip running all the way up to the shoulder.
Adrian pulled another chair up close for her useless leg and gently pulled her favorite running shoe off her foot. The timeworn sofa would have been more comfortable, but no telling what critters had moved in under the old cushions or what they might have left behind. The years of dust alone would smother her if she plopped down on the blue plaid fabric.
Images of her and her twin sisters curled up around their mother as she read from her Bible bubbled to the surface. Nikki used to rush to answer the questions at the end of each story. The twins were one year younger than her, but she had wanted to prove she was smarter and better at everything.
Looking back, she was sure it had to do with all the attention they got. Beautiful twin girls did not go unnoticed, but the plain big sister did.
It wasn’t their fault.
She never felt that competition with their youngest sister, Samantha. She’d been more of a mother to her. Sammi was the only good thing their stepmother had given their family. Sheila’s leaving had been the other good thing, but that happened after she herself had left.
Nikki took in a deep breath. She had no right to judge. Her family needed her, but she’d been too much of a coward to face the consequences of her own mistakes and abandoned everyone that counted on her. She turned away from the living room and closed her eyes.
She couldn’t remember the last time she felt smart or accomplished.
Her gaze went back to the river stone fireplace, to the past. It was cold and empty now, not crackling with a warm blaze like her memory. She could see her father sitting on the recliner, telling her to give her sisters a chance.
Remembering the twins when they were little had a tendency to soften her heart. Soft hearts broke easily.
The image needed to leave her head. She didn’t have time for regrets or grief. They weren’t real anyway. Just pictures she stared at when she was little so she wouldn’t forget the way her mom looked.
Her mom was gone, and the twins were women now. Danica had her own twin daughters. Even little Sammi, who had barely been in school when she left, was now in her twenties and helping run the lumberyard.
Eyes closed, she focused on her body and took deep breaths, pulling in all wayward thoughts. She rotated her foot to evaluate the pain of the injury. Hopefully it wasn’t anything that damaged her recovery. A cold chill climbed up her spine. The last thing she needed was another surgery. Adrian had left. His warm touch no longer working on her knee.
The sputtering of water forcing air through old rusted pipes brought her attention back to the present.
Adrian held a bowl at the sink. “After tending that cut, we’ll get your knee washed up. Then I’ll try and get the mud out of your hair. You must have taken some fall. Was it after or before the rescue?” His shoulders bunched and moved as he rinsed out the bowl and filled it with water. She’d been impressed by the way he snapped the chain and took charge. He might not be riding bulls any longer, but he was still a man of action. He turned. “Do you know if there are any blankets we can trust?”
The rain hit the tin roof. Talking took energy and focus she didn’t have right now. “I haven’t been here since I was eight.”
“That’s a shame. It’s a great place. There’s always someone trying to buy it from your dad or lease it, but rumor has it he won’t even talk about it.”
“The twins and I actually own the ranch. It’s been in my mom’s family for five generations and Dad didn’t want any problems with Sheila, so he made sure to put it in our names.” One of the many things that had made Sheila mad.
He pulled another chair up next to her and carefully wiped at her arm. “That turned out to be a smart idea. This seems like a perfect place for you. One of the highest cliffs in the county is on the far corner of your property. There are rumors of caves, and you have one of the best parts of the river running right through it. It’s too rough and small to really run cattle, but you could have your own private adventure park.”
“One problem. I’m leaving Clear Water as soon as possible.”
“I used to have that goal.” He shrugged and winked. “But God had other plans for me, better plans.”
She tried to stop him by placing her hand over his. Despite the cold, his skin warmed hers. His fingers were long and surprisingly graceful. The calluses kept them from looking pampered. “Working man hands” was what her dad called them. “You don’t have to do that.”
“No, but I’m not going anywhere, and it’s much more efficient for me to take care of it.” He scooted the chair down and removed the brace. “So what did you name your new baby?”
For a second her gut twisted, and she wondered how he knew. The deer. He was talking about the fawn. “I thought men talked less than women.” She certainly didn’t want to talk about babies.
“Now there you go, stereotyping me.” He grinned at her.
She almost laughed. When was the last time a man teased her? He might actually be