Christmas On The Silver Horn Ranch

Bowie let out a heavy breath. He couldn’t hide from Rafe. The two brothers were too much alike.

“Okay, I’ll fess up. I got off to a really bad start with Ava,” Bowie muttered. “When she walked in I was on the phone telling Dad how I didn’t want a nurse. And a few other derogatory things that I wouldn’t have wanted any woman to hear. I had to do some fast apologizing to get her to stay.”

“Well, Ava’s too old for you, anyway. And from what Lilly says, she isn’t interested in having a man in her life. Which is unfortunate, if you ask me. The few times I’ve been around her, she seems like a woman who needs a family.”

Why had Rafe had to go and say that kind of thing and ruin the fantasies he’d been having of the sexy nurse? To Bowie, she’d seemed like a woman who needed a man to make love to her.

“Don’t look at me. I’m hardly in the market for a wife and kids. Besides, I like younger women. The kind that wants to have fun. Not babies.”

“So you’re still on that kick. I was thinking now that you’ve gotten out of the Marines you might be feeling different about women—and other things.”

“I might be out of the Marines, but I’m hardly ready for slippers and a recliner every night.”

“You’re hardly ready for a barroom brawl, either,” Rafe said drily. “Have your doctors given you an idea as to when you might go back to work?”

“Barring no complications, in six to eight weeks.”

“That quick?”

Bowie groaned. “You call sitting around on this ranch for the next six weeks quick?”

Rafe whipped the truck around a patch of sagebrush growing in the middle of the rough pasture road. “Be patient, Bowie, and you might get to liking it.”

So this was why his brother had taken him on this jaunt this morning, Bowie thought. Not for a breath of fresh air or a change in scenery. But to give him a pep talk about giving up the hotshot crew and becoming a full-time rancher.

“Look, Rafe, it’s nice that you and the rest of the family want me around. I appreciate that. But this kind of life isn’t for me. I’d go out of my mind with boredom. It’s one of the reasons I went into the Marines in the first place.”

Rafe snorted. “Bull. You didn’t go into the Marines because you were bored. You did it because you were a rebel. Hell, Mom was the only one who thought the military would be good for you. And I guess in some ways she was right,” he added thoughtfully.

“Mom,” Bowie repeated softly. “I sure wish she was still with us. You know, while I was in the Corps, I often caught myself imagining she was still here on the ranch. But now that I’m home, everything I look at reminds me she’s gone.”

Rafe glanced his way. “You know, the first time I met Ava, she sort of reminded me of Mom. She’s tall and dark and elegant like Mom was. Maybe that’s why I connect Ava with having a family. It’s just too bad that she can’t get past losing her husband.”

She didn’t want to get past losing him, Bowie thought. But that was her choice and had nothing to do with him. For the next few weeks he was going to enjoy her visits, but beyond that, she was off-limits.

They rounded a rolling hill covered in scraggly juniper, and a small herd of cattle came into view. Bowie was relieved to see them. He didn’t want to talk about Ava or hear his brother talking about the woman needing a husband anymore.

“There’s a herd off to the right,” Bowie said. “Are they the heifers you wanted to look at?”

“Sure are.”

Slowing the truck, Rafe steered off the narrow road and toward the black cattle. As soon as the animals spotted the vehicle, they came running with hopes of getting fed.

“If you don’t have some feed in the back of the truck,” Bowie commented, “those heifers are going to be mighty upset.”

Rafe chuckled. “This isn’t my first rodeo. I loaded some hay bales earlier.”

He parked the truck on a flat space of ground and waited for the cattle to gather nearby. By now fat flakes of snow were splattering against the windshield and dusting the backs of the black cattle. It had been years since Bowie had seen snow and experienced cold weather. He’d almost forgotten the hardship it placed on the livestock and the men who cared for them.

After Rafe had tossed blocks of hay to the cattle, he climbed back into the warm cab and held his gloved hands toward the vents on the dashboard.

“Sorry I can’t help,” Bowie told him. “I might not be much of a rancher, but I do know how to spread hay.”

“You know how to do more than spread hay,” Rafe said. “Remember when we were kids and we found that cow down by the river? She was trying to calve and was in really bad shape.”

“Yeah. I remember. I argued with you that there wasn’t enough time to go back to the ranch and get help. We pulled the calf ourselves.”

“And everything turned out good,” Rafe said with a wry grin. “I was fifteen and you were only ten. But you had more guts than I did, little brother. If you hadn’t been there with me, I would have lit out for the ranch.”

“Dad didn’t call it guts. He called it being reckless,” Bowie reminded him.

“Yeah, but he was happy.” He pointed to the heifers. “How do they look to you?”

“Good. Except for those two standing over at the edge. They’re not eating and their ears are drooped. They look a little sick to me.”

Grinning, Rafe was about to reach over and slap Bowie’s shoulder when he suddenly remembered his injuries and pulled back his hand. “Just what I expected. You haven’t forgotten a thing about being a cowboy. Welcome home, Bowie.”

Bowie started to remind him that he was only going to be home for a few weeks, but the smile on Rafe’s face was such a happy one, he just didn’t have the heart to ruin the moment.

Rafe, and everyone else in the family, would learn soon enough that he was heading back to the hotshot crew just as soon as his body had returned to working order.

* * *

Ava was still working the emergency room at Tahoe General when her friend and fellow nurse, Paige Winters, entered the sheeted cubicle where Ava was adjusting an IV on an elderly female patient suffering with flu symptoms.

“Are you nearly finished here?” Paige asked.

Ava glanced around at the redheaded nurse dressed in navy-blue scrubs. She was a tall, slender woman with a face dominated by a pair of clear gray eyes. Normally there was a perpetual smile on her face, but at the moment her lips were pressed together in a frustrated line.

“Yes, this patient is being admitted. Why? You need help with something?”

Paige jerked her thumb toward the opposite end of the room. “An unruly male. He slipped on an icy sidewalk and cut his head. He thinks he’s dying and demands the doctor see him this instant.”

“Dr. Sherman is busy with a cardiac incident right now. And Dr. Garza is tending to a toddler with whooping cough. The patient will just have to wait his turn.”

“I wish you’d tell him that.”

“You can’t?” Ava asked her.

Paige cast her a pleading smile. “I’m not nearly as good with a naughty man as you are.”

That was because she didn’t think of them as men. She thought of them as people. Except for the one she’d met this morning, Ava thought. Bowie was so potent she’d not been able to think of him as anything but a tough hunk of man.

“All right. I’ll deal with him.”

After hanging the patient’s chart on the end of the bed, Ava left the cubicle with Paige following close on her heels. When the two of them entered the compartment with the head injury, she found a young man sitting on the side of the narrow examining table holding a huge cotton pad to the side of his head. He was dressed in a sports jacket and tie. The knot at his throat was askew and blood splattered the toes of his wing tips.

“What the hell kind of place is this anyway?” he yelled the moment Ava stepped up to him. “I’m bleeding all over the place and nobody cares!”

Ava glanced over to see Paige rolling her eyes.

“Other than taking his vitals, Mr. Dobson here refused to let me touch him,” Paige explained. “He’d rather keep bleeding.”

“I came here to have my head treated by a doctor!” he practically shouted. “If I’d wanted a nurse to take care of me I’d have driven over to my grandma’s house.”

“Is your grandma a nurse?” Paige asked.

“No. But she’d know a damned sight more than you two. All I’ve seen you two do is carry clipboards around in circles.”

“See,” Paige said to Ava. “He’s a real sweetheart.”

Ava gave him a wide, phony smile. “This is an emergency room, Mr. Dobson. The most critical patients come first. If you don’t want to wait your turn to see the doctor, then perhaps you’d better let your grandma take care of you. Just try not to bleed all over the floor as you leave. I don’t want any of the nurses slipping and falling because of you.”

While the man spluttered with outrage, Ava urged her coworker out of the cubicle. “I hope you wrote intoxicated on his chart,” she said under her breath.

Paige frowned. “I didn’t notice alcohol. But now that you mention it, his eyes are pretty glassy. You don’t think that’s a result of banging his head?”

“Trust me. He’s belted back a few. And he isn’t going anywhere. He’s too much of a wimp.”

“Okay. You’ve been a nurse a lot longer than me. I’ll make a notation on his chart. Thanks, Ava.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “I need to go check on another patient. I’ll see you in the locker room in thirty minutes.”

Ava looked at her with surprise. “Thirty minutes? Is it time for the shift change already?”

Paige grinned. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

The past nine hours of Ava’s evening shift in the ER had passed in a blur. The half hour she’d spent in Bowie’s bedroom this morning had felt like a whole day and then some. Maybe if she’d gone at the job of treating the firefighter like any other patient, the time with him would’ve spun by. But Bowie Calhoun wasn’t just any other patient. He was not like any man she’d met before.

* * *

A half hour later, in the nurses’ locker room, the two women were changing into street clothes.

“So you want to go get a drink or something to eat?” Paige asked as she slipped on a heavy coat. “I’m starving.”

Sitting on a wooden bench, Ava pulled a pair of knee-high boots over her jeans. “Not tonight. It will be one o’clock before I get home and climb into bed. And I need to be out at the Silver Horn by ten.”

“Oh. I’d forgotten about you taking on that extra job.” The redhead wrapped a long knit scarf around her neck. “Have you taken a look outside? It’s been snowing for the past two hours. You might not be able to drive out to the ranch in the morning.”

That might be a relief, Ava thought. Or would it? If she didn’t see Bowie in the morning, she’d think about him for the rest of the day. On the other hand, everything might be different in the morning, she thought hopefully. She might take one look at the hunky ex-marine and not feel anything at all, except the need to care for a patient.

“If the highways are treacherous, then I’m to call and someone from the ranch will come pick me up in a four-wheel-drive vehicle and drive me out there.”

Paige reached for her purse. “You’re kidding me.”

Ava stood and shrugged on her coat. “No kidding. One way or the other, the family is going to make sure Bowie has his nurse.”

“Hmm. Well, I shouldn’t be surprised. From what I’ve heard, the Calhouns have more money than they know what to do with.”

Ava pulled the pins from her heavy bun and quickly ran a brush through the long tresses. “I never realized that raising cattle could make a family so wealthy.”

“It’s more than cattle, Ava. They sell high-priced cutting and show horses, too. And I hear they have lots of other holdings in mining and the gas and oil business.”

Ava put away the brush and pulled on her gloves while the image of Bowie lying on the king-size bed flashed into her mind. Surprisingly, he’d not come across to her as rich or spoiled. In fact, he’d seemed very down-to-earth. But then, she’d only been there for a half hour. A woman would need weeks, even months to learn the sort of man who lived behind that rugged face and muscled body.

“I wasn’t aware you knew that much about the family,” Ava replied.

“I don’t. But I read things in the paper from time to time. And I remember a few years ago, when old Mr. Calhoun was hospitalized. Some of the nurses were hoping he’d have a longer stay just so they’d get to look at the gorgeous grandsons coming to visit. So which one of them are you treating?”

“The youngest. Bowie. He’s the only one of them that’s still single.” Now, why had she bothered to give Paige that piece of information? His marital status had nothing to do with her job.

Paige chuckled slyly. “Lucky for you.”

Ava forced herself to laugh along with her friend. She might as well. The idea of her and Bowie ever having a relationship of any sort was totally laughable.

Picking up her handbag, she started out of the small locker room. “Sure,” she joked. “Everyone knows what a cougar I am.”

Chapter Three

The next morning the sun was out, but there was a layer of snow covering the patch of yard in front of Ava’s house. Snowplows had already cleared the few side streets she took to reach the main highway, but the last ten miles of graveled road leading to the ranch were another story. After a few incidents of sliding and spinning, she managed to reach the Silver Horn, although the effort left her tense and exhausted.

When she eventually entered the house, Greta instantly began to scold her. “Miss Archer, you should have called the ranch for a ride. The roads are messy today.”

Ava handed her coat and gloves to Tessa, who was kindly waiting to take her things. “They weren’t that bad in town,” she told the cook. “But I must say the rural road leading up here to the ranch was treacherous.”

Greta clucked her tongue with disapproval. “From now on, you call and let us know you need a lift. We don’t want you hurt, too.”

“I’ll do that,” Ava promised, then asked, “Is Bowie in his room?”

Greta let out a loud, frustrated groan. “He’s up there. After he ate his breakfast, he insisted he was going to get in the shower. I told him he couldn’t.”

“That’s right. Only a sponge bath. He can’t get his burns or cast wet.”

“Well, he won’t let me or Tessa help him with a sponge bath. And seeing he was so hell-bent on getting into that shower, I unscrewed the showerhead and brought it down here. He won’t be using it for a while. But he’s probably still fuming.”

Ava had to laugh. “Good thinking. And I’ll remind him of what he’s to do and not to do.”

“Well, brace yourself. He wasn’t too happy when I left him,” Greta warned.

She was going to brace herself, Ava thought a few minutes later as she climbed the two flights of stairs to Bowie’s bedroom. Not because of his present mood, but because she needed to control herself.

After a firm knock, she stepped into the bedroom to see Bowie standing with the aid of his crutch, staring out the window. The brooding expression on his face was a far cry from the playful guy she’d met yesterday.

“Good morning,” she said.

His head jerked in her direction as though he’d been expecting anyone but her.

“Oh. I thought it was that damned Greta back to torment me.”

Ava shut the door and moved deeper into the room. “It’s a good thing the cook is keeping an eye on you. She told me about the shower. Are you trying to ruin everything the doctors have done so far? Maybe you’d like to go through a series of skin grafts. Think a shower would be worth that?”

“Damn it, I just want to feel clean. I can wash the bottom half of me okay. But I can’t handle the top half.”

“Greta says she and Tessa have offered to help you.”

He mouthed another curse under his breath. “Not on your life. Greta is like a grandmother. And Tessa came to live with us when she was just a very young teenager. She’s like a baby sister to me. Understand?”

Unfortunately, she did.

Dropping her tote bag on the foot of the bed, she motioned toward the private bathroom. “Okay. I told you yesterday I wasn’t going to do this, but I will. Just because I don’t want you to have a setback and cause me to have to see you for the next four months instead of the next six weeks.”

His eyes widened. “What are you going to do?”

The surprised look on his face was comical. “I’m going to give you a bath. What else?”

“In the bathroom?”

She shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t see any soap and water out here. Do you?”

For a moment she thought he was going to start singing a different tune about wanting a bath, but then he heaved out a heavy breath and hobbled off toward the bathroom. Ava followed behind him.

Bowie’s private bathroom was nearly as big as her kitchen. A green marble tub was situated on one side, while a glass-enclosed shower spanned the opposite wall. Green and white tile covered the floor, while white towels and washcloths hung on racks conveniently positioned around the room.

Spotting a padded dressing bench over by the tub, she dragged it over to the sink. “Sit down here,” she ordered.

“Ava, I—”

“You what? Have decided you don’t want a bath as much as you thought you did?”

“No. I still want a bath. I just— Well, it suddenly occurred to me that I probably sound like a spoiled brat to you. And I’m not. I’m just sick of being helpless, that’s all.”

“And a little bit stubborn to go with it?” she added impishly.

He grinned at that, and Ava was relieved to see his mood lift. She was a nurse—she didn’t want him to be miserable. Not physically or mentally.

“Just a little,” he admitted.

Turning slightly away from him, she filled the sink with warm water, then gathered a bar of soap and a washcloth. “How did you get that sweatshirt on?”

“Very carefully,” he answered. “It hurt my shoulder a bit when I pulled it over my head. But I don’t think it damaged anything.”

“You don’t, do you? Well, let’s hope it didn’t tear any flesh.” She turned back to him. “I can see you’re going to be a difficult patient. Didn’t you learn to follow rules in the Marines?”

“Yes. And I followed them. But I didn’t always like them.”

“I see. So now you want to make up your own rules.”

“Life is more fun that way.”

“You say that word a lot, you know.” Stepping closer, she reached for the hem of his sweatshirt. “Bend your head and I’ll try to get this thing off. And then I never want to see it again.”

After some slow, careful maneuvering, she worked the sweatshirt over his head and tossed the garment aside.

“What word do I say a lot?” he asked.

Deliberately ignoring the sight of his naked chest, she began to soap the wet washcloth. “Fun. That’s the word.”

“What’s the matter? You object to having fun?”

“No. But everything isn’t fun and games.” She wrung out the cloth and turned back to him. “Now don’t move. Otherwise, I’ll get soap and water where it doesn’t belong.”

“I’ll be as still as a statue,” he promised.

Stepping closer, she decided to start with his good arm and save the more problematic areas for last.

Wrapping her hand around his wrist, Ava held his arm out straight and washed the corded muscles. As she worked, the erotic male scent of his skin and the faint caress of his warm breath against her arm were impossible to ignore. Over the years, she’d done this very same thing to hundreds of male patients. None had made her so aware of being a woman. None had made her feel as though she was touching a man for the very first time.

“I didn’t think you’d show up today,” he said. “There’s quite a bit of snow on the ground.”

Ava wasn’t going to explain how his father had made plans beforehand to make sure she got to the ranch. From what she could see, Bowie wasn’t the sort that appreciated being coddled by his family.

“The drive took a bit longer,” she admitted. “But I made it without any problems.”

“When the weather is bad, you should stay out here on the ranch instead of driving back and forth to Carson City. We have plenty of empty rooms.”

His invitation took her by surprise. Mainly because she wasn’t a friend or even an acquaintance. She was hired help.

“Thank you for offering, but I couldn’t do that. I work six nights a week in the ER at Tahoe General.”

Finished with his arm, she rinsed the washcloth and started on his shoulder. It was thick and padded with heavy muscle. Even through the thickness of the wet cloth, she could feel the sinewy curves beneath her fingers. The sensation caused her breathing to slow and her hand to linger.

He looked up at her and Ava’s gaze dropped to his lips. What would it feel like, she wondered, to have those lips skimming over her skin, to be kissing her mouth until she couldn’t breathe?

“No one told me that. I thought you worked freelance or something. Six nights a week. That’s a grind, isn’t it?”

No, it was a relief, she thought. Working that many nights gave her a reprieve from an empty house and a lonely bed. But she wasn’t about to admit such a thing to him. Not for anything did she want this man to pity her. She was living the life she’d chosen. And it was all she wanted or needed.

“Not really. I love my work. I’ve been a nurse since I was twenty-two—a long time. And it’s rewarding to help people. Especially those too sick or injured to take care of themselves.”

“Like me?” he asked with a grin.

In spite of her chaotic senses, she managed to give him a faint smile. “You’re injured, but not helpless. You just want me to think you are.”

“And why shouldn’t I? You’re a beautiful woman, Ava. And you have hands like an angel.”

Ava couldn’t remember the last time her heart had raced like a stock car, but it was definitely breaking the speed limit right now.

“Like I said before, I’m not here for your amusement.”

“That doesn’t stop me from looking and feeling,” he said huskily.

By now Ava had forgotten what she was supposed to be doing, until the heat of his skin began to burn through the washcloth. Heaving out a heavy breath, she tossed it into the sink, then tried her best to glare at him. But she simply couldn’t come up with enough anger to pull it off.

“Bowie, have you forgotten everything I told you yesterday? I’m thirty-five years old. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

His green gaze traveled lazily over her face and down the vee of her dress. The intimate search caused Ava’s cheeks to burn.

“Sure,” he replied. “It means you’ve had time to grow wiser. And more beautiful. And more womanly.”

Those were hardly the answers she’d expected to come out of his mouth, and for a moment she didn’t know how to respond. Finally, she asked, “Did the nurses in the hospital have this much trouble with you?”

Although a grin tilted one corner of his lips, there was a serious look in his eye. It bothered Ava far more than all the words he’d said to her.

“The nurses in the hospital weren’t you,” he said simply.

Struggling with the effort to keep from groaning out loud, Ava grabbed the washcloth and scrubbed the bar of soap against the terry fabric until lather was spilling over her hands.

When she turned back to him, she lifted his head until it was out of the way, then plopped the cloth against his chest. Bubbles and water meshed with the golden-red hair matted between two flat brown nipples. Ava pushed the washcloth up, down and across until his skin was slick.

Over and over, she kept reminding herself that she was only doing her job. Yet nothing about it felt like a job. Touching him this way was taking her on an erotic journey, unlike anywhere she’d ever traveled before.

By the time she reached his navel, she heard him draw in a sharp breath. The sound caused Ava to lift her head. Which was a big mistake. The movement had brought her lips a scant inch away from his.