Cowboy For Keeps

Nope. This was the woman he was supposed to give control over to—the woman he was supposed to trust with his future.

He didn’t think so.

Despite what his little brothers thought, he could still make decisions on his own and that started with telling Amanda Hathaway she wasn’t staying.

Chapter Two

Wyatt Turner didn’t look right in the wheelchair.

It was the first thought that had hit Amanda when she’d spotted him sitting on the porch. Her confidence had faltered as she’d driven the three hours to Mule Hollow—not surprising since she hadn’t been feeling like herself. Seeing Mr. Turner did nothing to help matters.

He was an extremely physically fit man with a broad chest and the lean build of someone used to working out. A man who took care of himself—though she’d already assumed that about him. Joyce had said he was a high achiever, driven to be the best. If that was true, keeping physically fit would fit the profile.

He was handsome—or would be if he didn’t look so angry. He had black, wavy hair and bold features including a strong jaw, which at the moment was dark with a five o’clock shadow. It wasn’t, however, his look and build that had her smoothing her hand across her flyaway brown hair in a display of nerves. No, it was his eyes. Hard, intense cobalt-blue, they narrowed and grew cold as they studied her. These were the all-seeing eyes of a man who read people for a living.

He probably hid his thoughts well. He looked as if he only let a person, or a jury, see what he chose to let them see.

Amanda stilled her nerves. She didn’t have to look close to see he was not happy to be in a wheelchair. He was probably not used to needing someone else.

Despite her resolve that she could handle this job, Amanda’s heart fluttered with worry and she wondered if she’d made a mistake in coming.

No mistake.

This man’s intensity might serve to be her saving grace. If he was as demanding as she assumed he would be, that meant all her time would be consumed.

And all-consuming was exactly what she needed right now.

“I’m sorry I’m running a bit late. I’d hoped to be here before lunch but traffic on I-35 was killer.”

“How old are you?”

His question caught her off guard, halting her rambling. “I’m twenty-four.”

“How long have you been a physical therapist?”

Okay, so he had a right to know these things. But still, he hadn’t even said hello. “Two years. I graduated high school early and started college two years early. I have experience, Mr. Turner, if that’s what you’re worried about.” The realization that he might not have wanted her here hit her.

“You graduated two years early?”

She heard the astonishment in his voice.

“How did that happen?”

“I had an accident and almost died when I was fourteen. I wasn’t able to attend class.” It shouldn’t have been any big deal, but the fact that he had yet to be cordial at all set everything on end. She assumed he was going to make her stand in the sun until he was satisfied with her answers. She lifted her chin, shifted her weight to her good leg and smiled. “I was hit by a drunk driver. I was training to be a cross-country runner on the freshman cross-country team and was out running near our house. I… Like I said, I nearly died. My parents homeschooled me after that. It was work-at-my-own-pace. I decided I liked to move quickly.”

She saw the flicker of surprise in his dark eyes—good, she’d meant to get a reaction out of him. He knew about nearly dying and surely would relate to that. It was easy to see he was spoiling for a fight. Anger wasn’t uncommon in his situation. She suspected he was probably stunned to find out that he wasn’t invincible. Overachievers often thought they were untouchable. That they had everything under control and nothing could go wrong. She had news for him—it happened to the best of them. Including herself.

Life was not controllable. At least not completely.

“Look, I’m sorry, but this isn’t going to work.”

“What do you mean this isn’t going to work?” Surely he didn’t mean what she thought he meant.

His face hardened more—if that were even possible—and his jaw jutted. “Just what I said, Ms. Hathaway. My brothers and your employers all knew I expected a fully capable, highly trained physical therapist for this job. I’m sorry you’ve been brought all the way out here, but I don’t have the luxury of time and can’t waste what I do have.”

“Mr. Turner, I might be young, but I’m capable of doing this job. I wouldn’t have come if I hadn’t been. You’ve read my résumé, I’m sure.”

“Actually, no. My brothers handled these arrangements.”

“Well, then, you also should know that the majority of my work has been done with children and teens. But that doesn’t discredit me from being qualified to handle your case.” Nor did her lack of a leg, but obviously his brothers had chosen not to tell him that, and they must have had their reasons, so she didn’t say anything.

“That doesn’t change anything.” His expression was blank. “I’ll make sure you’re paid for your time coming out here. This is not going to work.”

Amanda watched in shock as he pressed the forward button on his wheelchair with the fingers of the arm not in a sling and guided it toward the open doorway.

“The agency I work for doesn’t have another therapist open for this job.” She hoped something would change his mind; obviously it wouldn’t be anything about herself that would do it. “Being all the way out here is going to cause a big problem when it comes to finding a good therapist. I’m good. Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?” She hadn’t expected that she’d get turned away.

He halted at the door and shot her a glare—that look took her faltering thoughts from stunned disbelief to complete peevishness! The man is really being unreasonable. Of course she had no clue what was going on in his head, she reminded herself. For all she knew, he might be like this all the time. Boy, would that be an unpleasant way to go through life. However, looking at him, something told her he wasn’t. Something told her he was struggling. And she saw pain in his eyes right then, even as she watched him. He winced slightly, favoring his left side where she knew his hip and lower back injury needed her attention.

“I’m sure,” he said, his words almost a grunt, but he held on and almost covered up the fact that he was having a spasm.

Even in pain he was stubborn, though Amanda had no doubt about his sincerity. She could see that changing his mind wasn’t something he did. She knew from his profile that he was probably also used to getting his own way, doing things his way and more than likely able to buy anything he needed in order to make it happen. This could very well be doomed from the start—begging him to keep her on was not an option that would work for either of them, no matter how much she wanted to stay.

“Then I guess that does it.” Disheartened in so many ways, she fought to think rationally—something she’d been having a bit of a problem with lately. Her stomach decided to step in and help her out by letting out a long, drawn-out roar. It broke the uncomfortable silence that stretched between her and Wyatt. That was one way to end their meeting: food. It might help her refocus. She’d been stuck in traffic and running late, so she hadn’t taken time to stop for lunch. “Is there somewhere in town I can get a bite to eat?” she asked, fighting to keep her tone neutral.

He’d entered the house and turned the chair—probably so that he could slam the door in her face! His brows locked in consternation as he stared at her through the screen. For a minute she wondered if he’d expected her to beg him for the job. She needed this job to take her mind off her own troubles, but she would never beg. He had to realize he needed her. Surely he knew how badly his injuries needed attention before they began to worsen. That would start to happen while he looked for someone to replace her. Time was of the essence, she wanted to say—but he was a smart man and he knew this.

“Sam’s is the only diner in town. You can’t miss it.”

She held his gaze and almost challenged him…any other time she might have, but not today. “Thanks,” she said, turning to go. She’d eat and then she’d call Joyce. If anyone was going to fix this it would be up to her boss. With her back held straight she retraced her steps to her vehicle. In her heart of hearts she hoped Wyatt would reconsider and stop her before she drove away…but she knew he wouldn’t.

Wyatt Turner was not a man who changed his mind. He also wasn’t the only person who was good at reading people. It was a trait she’d learned after the accident, watching nurses and doctors and her parents when they gave her hard information. It had come in handy in her profession as she evaluated her clients’ needs and signs of pain.

It was a shame that it did her absolutely no good now…then again, maybe she wasn’t as good at it as she’d thought she was. She’d read Jonathan about as wrong as possible.

Or maybe she really hadn’t. Maybe she’d only imagined in their relationship what she’d wanted to see there.

She got into her car, pulled the strap of the seat belt securely about her and stole a glance toward the house. He was watching her…and he was rubbing his hip since he thought she wasn’t looking. So be it. She started the SUV and drove away. She watched the house disappear in her rearview mirror and felt more lost than she had in ages. What was she going to do?

The feelings she’d been able to set aside as she’d headed toward this job crowded back in around her.

In the early days, working with kids gave her something to focus on other than herself. Now she didn’t even have that comfort any longer. God had a plan for her life. She clung to that belief, but right now it was giving her little comfort.

Turning onto the blacktop, her thoughts turned to Wyatt Turner and she found herself wondering if that was how he felt. If so, he had her sympathy. Even if he had just fired her.

Wyatt needed out of this wheelchair.

He needed out before he went crazy. It had to happen and it had to happen sooner rather than later.

It would happen—he’d make it happen as quick as possible. Something about Amanda Hathaway bothered him. She would only have slowed down his progress.

Letting her go had been his only option. Still, he hadn’t liked doing what he’d done.

She wasn’t up for the job, it was obvious. It niggled at him that he’d judged her by her appearance, but he didn’t have time to go soft. He hadn’t gotten where he was in life by going soft. The facts were that she wasn’t strong enough—she was small and young. There was no way she’d be able to handle strenuous training like he expected and needed. And she’d worked with children! Of all things. What had Cole and Seth been thinking?

They’d wanted to remind him about how important his physical therapy was and yet they’d gone and pulled a sorry stunt like this.

His doctors had assured him he could make a full recovery, but only with hard, diligent work. There wasn’t an ounce of quit in him—never had been, but this physical disablement had thrown his world upside down. Every time his hip and back seized up he felt weak…if he let his guard down. If he didn’t work absolutely as hard as he was supposed to there was a chance he would always have a limp and lower back pain.

He’d admit that deep inside he was scared. If he let up, if he messed up in the least little bit he wouldn’t come out of this as strong and healthy as he’d been before he’d botched things up with his stupid error in judgment when he’d decided to fly his plane in unsafe conditions.

That was the scariest thing—how weak he felt. As if to show him who was boss, pain shot through his left hip once more and attacked his lower back with a vengeance. This time it was so strong he groaned before he could stop it. Perspiration beaded across his forehead as he grimaced against the pain. He closed his eyes, he counted to ten, willing his muscles to relax. Tensing up made the spasm worse—not a good thing.

Sucking in a heavy breath, he tried to relax and let the pain pass. What if I can’t make it back to the way I was? The question sliced through him like a knife to a wound.

It had been three endless weeks since he’d crash-landed his twin engine plane in a pasture during a storm. It had happened not long after he’d left Mule Hollow and was headed back to Dallas. He’d taken time he didn’t have to fly home to congratulate Cole on his wedding engagement. Since he was responsible for matching up Cole and Susan, he’d wanted to make the quick day trip and share in the joy of the moment. If he’d listened to his gut—which was usually right—and stayed the night, taken time to really enjoy the moment with them, he’d have been all right. But enjoying the moment wasn’t something he did. Instead he’d rushed off in the middle of dangerous winds and a severe thunderstorm. He’d been arrogant enough to believe he could handle the storm. What an inane bit of stupidity.

When had he decided he could control everything?

He hadn’t closed the door after watching Amanda drive away and now he stared across the land that had been in his family for over a hundred and fifty years. It was in this place his roots ran deep and was from his ancestors’ example that he’d become the man he was.

Being used to control was a good thing, he reminded himself. It had driven him to where he was in his career as an attorney. It would get him through this. Taking another deep breath, he began to relax as his mind cleared and the pain began to recede.

Good blood ran through his veins. Hardworking, upstanding—well, upstanding except for his good ole great-great-great-great-great-grandpa Oakley—him being upstanding was questionable. By and large the Turner men and women were tough. Generations past had stared across this land that stagecoaches had crossed on their way to this old stagecoach stop. Like this house, his ancestors had stood the test of time and so would he.

His brothers had been right in bringing him home.

This place had always been good for his soul.

Two months. He would get better and he’d get to work. He would not let himself get waylaid by debilitating, unproductive thoughts again. He hadn’t been feeling like doing anything except sitting in this chair and feeling sorry for himself. It wasn’t something he understood or wanted, but that was what had been happening. He wasn’t sleeping and his attitude stank. But lately he hadn’t been able to do anything about it. Cole and Seth had known and they’d taken action when he wouldn’t. Their action had helped him—jolted him enough to fight…and fight was what he needed.

Action: that was what he needed.

He needed a therapist capable of helping him achieve his goal. The soft, sweet-faced Amanda Hathaway hadn’t been up for the challenge.

Still, even he couldn’t help admiring the way she’d walked away with her head held high.

Chapter Three

As dismal as Amanda felt, the sight of Mule Hollow perked her up the instant it peeked over the horizon. Why, it was darling! So cute with its bright stores, welcoming flowerpots along plank sidewalks and window boxes. Driving down Main Street, she began to smile. It was a wonderful feeling.

There was a pink two-story hair salon called Heavenly Inspirations, a bright yellow feed store with peacock-blue trim, a real estate office painted A&M maroon—which she was a big fan of—and beside it was Sam’s Diner painted a bright grass-green.

Amanda pulled into the parking space and got out. More stores just as brightly painted stood all along Main Street. The dress store and candy store across the street were memorable as well as the community center a few doors down the wooden sidewalk. She watched a cowboy clomp into the feed store down the way and felt very nostalgic. She half expected to see a horse tied to a hitching post. This was smiletown if ever there was one. Just lovely.

There was a really huge older home that anchored the town at one end. It had a green roof with turrets on each corner and a sign that read Adela’s Apartments. Amanda studied the structure with interest. What would it be like to just walk in there and rent an apartment? Start over?

Crazy. She was thinking crazy and she knew it. It had been one thing to pretend she was running away from her life when she was coming here for a job, but this—this was simply a daydream, and it was too much. She was not the kind of person who ran away. At least not for good. She would get her head on straight. She would.

Yet it was as if Wyatt Turner’s stormy scowl had burned its way into her head.

She wondered if he’d slammed the door after she left. Something about the man intrigued her, despite his easy dismissal of her. Maybe it was simply that she hated to see anyone in pain. Maybe it wasn’t the man himself that kept her attention but the fact that she knew she could help him.

She could help him if he’d only give her the chance.

The man had to want her help. There was no getting around that. She couldn’t force anyone to accept her. Especially a man like him! She bit her lip and stared at the rooster weather vane sitting on the top of one of Adela’s turrets. No seesawing or riding the fence for him. Jonathan came to mind and she cringed. Jonathan had probably known his mind long before he’d finally spoken it. Maybe if he’d have cut her loose early like Wyatt had she wouldn’t be hurting so much right now.

At least Wyatt had been honest with how he felt. For that she admired him—even if he did need her.

A squeaking door sounded behind her. “Norma Sue, are you or are you not going to come out tonight and see my moon lily?” a woman said.

“I told you I would, but you were too busy running your mouth in there to hear me.”

Amanda turned. Two women were coming out of the diner. They looked up from their conversation and stopped short when they spotted her.

“Hello there,” the one who’d just been accused of running her mouth said. She had bright red hair and was wearing a daffodil-yellow capri set.

“Hello,” Amanda said.

“Honey, you look a bit dazed. Are you all right?” the woman called Norma Sue asked. She was a robust, strong-looking woman with wiry gray curls and a big wide smile that spread all the way across her face.

“Being dazed is understandable when folks first look at all these wild colors. It tends to make people’s heads spin.”

“Now, Norma Sue, we don’t know that this is her first time to see Mule Hollow—”

“Esther Mae.” Norma Sue stared in disbelief at her friend. “Have you ever seen her before?”

“Well, no—” The redhead looked at Amanda sheepishly.

“Then there you go. She’s as new to Mule Hollow as that calf I had born this morning.” She directed her hazel eyes back at Amanda. “Tell her this is your first time to our little metropolis, isn’t it?”

Amanda smiled, liking these two on the spot. “First time.”

“See, I knew it was!”

“I’m Amanda Hathaway.” She held up her right hand like she was swearing in at court and said, “And yes, I am new in town and I love it. I was just admiring the colors.”

Both ladies grinned as she let her hand fall.

“It does attract folks—kind of like red flowers attract hummingbirds. I’m Esther Mae Wilcox, by the way, and this is Norma Sue Jenkins.” She leaned forward slightly as if telling a secret. “She’s my sidekick.”

“Ha! Don’t believe a word of it,” Norma Sue huffed.

“She’s my sidekick.”

It was easy to visualize these two getting into all kinds of trouble.

“What brings you to town?” Esther Mae asked. “Are you here looking for a cowboy?”

The statement took Amanda by surprise, even though she knew the background of the town. She said the first thing that came to mind. “I don’t know, do you have some for sale?”

“We don’t sale ’um, but we sure do give them away at the altar,” Esther Mae volleyed back.

“To the right women,” Norma Sue added. “You need one, don’t you? I don’t see a ring on your hand.”

Amanda glanced at her finger where three weeks earlier there had been a ring. She blinked hard and stilled the sudden rolling of her stomach.

“Honey, you okay?” Esther Mae asked.

“Y-yes, I’m fine.” Meeting two sets of curious eyes, she pushed the jab of pain back into the corner of her heart where she’d barricaded it. “Um, how exactly do you get these cowboys to the altar?” she asked, a little too brightly. A vivid picture of Norma Sue behind them with a shotgun popped into her mind. “And is it legal?”

That got her chuckles from both women.

Norma Sue’s grin was wide. “Oh, the preacher makes it legal and the cowboys usually go willingly after a spell. Ain’t that right, Esther Mae?”

Esther Mae was watching her intently and Amanda feared she might have seen more than she’d needed anyone to see.

“Esther Mae, did you hear me?”

“Of course I did,” she said, her cinnamon brows puckered above alert green eyes. “So are you really telling us you haven’t heard about us?”

“No, I was teasing. I’ve heard a little about Mule Hollow.” It hit her that she had been teasing—it seemed like forever since she’d done that. She glanced at her ring finger, as empty as her heart felt. As her life was now. And yet she’d just teased these ladies spontaneously.

It was a good sign that maybe the entire trip out here hadn’t been a waste. “And no, I’m not looking to marry one of your cowboys. I came here from San Antonio for a job I was supposed to start today.”

“A job?” Esther Mae cooed. “What job?”

Amanda’s stomach growled loudly, reminding her why she’d come to town. She slapped a hand over it.

“Whoa, girl, that’s not good.” Norma Sue grabbed her by the arm. “C’mon, Esther Mae, we’ve got to get this young’un inside the diner and fill that stomach up with some of Sam’s good cooking.”

Esther Mae scooted to the door. “While you eat, you can tell us what job brought you to our neck of the woods.”

And just like that Amanda found herself being escorted into the diner by her new best buds. One thing was certain, this trip had been anything but boring. She might be headed home in an hour, but today—though disappointing in that she’d been dismissed basically on sight—she felt better.

“So you know about our little advertisements for wives?” Norma Sue asked.

“Yes, I don’t think many people, at least here in Texas, haven’t heard about it. My boss reminded me. I had forgotten about it when I first got my assignment, but I read a few of Molly Jacob’s columns back when they started.” Molly was a local newspaper reporter who’d begun writing a column about the goings-on of the little town that advertised for wives and it had been syndicated across the country. She enjoyed reading, but the column had taken a backseat to her always-full work schedule, training for the marathons she loved to run and…then, the connection she’d finally found with Jonathan. As soon as the thoughts of him came she pushed them away, refusing to go there.

“Then you know gals like you come from all over to marry our men. See, look over there.” Norma Sue pointed across the diner to a table where four cowboys were hunched over plates of food.

Esther Mae had slid into a booth and patted the seat beside her. “We’ve married off over a dozen couples with several engagements pending right now. And babies are arriving now, too. It is so exciting.”

Amanda sat down and inhaled the scent of food wafting through the air.

“Our church is busier than one of those tacky Las Vegas drive-through chapels.” Norma Sue grunted as she took the seat across from her. “Of course we just lost our preacher so we’ve got to find a new one to carry on the ceremonies.”

“Oh, brother, you two again!” A little man came out from the kitchen and headed to their booth. “I can’t get rid of you gals no matter how hard I try.” He settled teasing eyes on Amanda. “Hangin’ out with these two’ll get you inta trouble, little lady. Just so you know.” He held out his hand. “I’m Sam. Welcome to my place. These two git my Adela into more trouble than you can shake a stick at.”