Heart Of Texas

He jerked his gaze off her and let a few expletives fly. What the hell was wrong with him? He knew, though he hated to admit it. There was touching and there was touching.

His insides vibrated just thinking about the sensations that had run rampant through his body everywhere she touched. He hadn’t been lying, no siree, when he’d said she had magic fingers.

He wondered what they would feel like on another part of his body. He swore, his face tightening as if he had lockjaw. Thinking of her in terms of sex was the last thing he needed. It was bad enough that he’d had to come to her for treatment, in light of why he was in town.

On the other hand, he couldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Because of who she was, she had saved him from having either to return to Houston or go to the hospital in Lufkin. Once she put the heat to his back, he was convinced he’d be as good as new. Oh, he’d be sore for a few days, unable to brand any cattle, but he could live without that.

Besides, he hadn’t come to town to play with his cows. He’d come to land a coup that would make him rich. He wasn’t about to let anything mess that up, certainly not his libido.

Yet when Sara walked back into the room, he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. What galled him was the fact that she wasn’t even conventionally pretty.

She wasn’t homely, either.

Because her face was devoid of makeup, he could see her great bone structure—high cheekbones and wide-set green eyes. Her skin was incredible, too—a milky white that appeared as smooth as a baby’s butt.

Her hair was an odd color, somewhere between auburn and light chocolate, which added to her allure. She wore it in a short, straight style that accented her long neck.

But it was her body that was the attention grabber. Although extremely slender and tall, she had more than ample breasts, breasts that even her loose-fitting caftan couldn’t hide. He wished he could see her waist; he’d bet his hands would fit around it.

Still, she wasn’t the type of woman he had ever been attracted to. So why the sudden fixation with her? he asked himself, but got no answer.

Feeling desperate to elevate his thoughts to the impersonal level, Clark blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “How much do I owe you?”

She stiffened visibly. “Nothing at the moment. I suggest you come for another treatment, but in my office.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You really think that’s necessary?”

“Absolutely.” She paused, giving him a cool, pointed look. “Unless you want your back to go out again.”

“You know better than that,” he muttered crossly. But he dreaded another session because her magic hands messed with his mind.

“Wise man.”

“Whatever the doctor says.”

Her professional facade didn’t slip one iota. “Since that’s settled, let’s get this heating pad behind you so it can get to work.”

She plugged it in near where he was sitting, then placed it behind his back. Although she had been close to him earlier, he’d been in too much pain to notice how fresh and sweet she smelled. Now her scent hit him in the face like a slap. He sucked in his breath and held it.

She stepped back and peered down at him. “Are you in pain again?”

“Uh, no,” he said, turning away, unable to meet her eyes, especially with his manhood rallying around his thoughts.

“Would you care for coffee or something else to drink?” Her tone was polite but emotionless.

“Uh, no, thanks.”

Sara sat in the chair adjacent to him, and for a moment an uneasy silence fell between them. It was one of the few times he had ever been at a loss for words. But then, he’d never been in quite such a precarious situation.

He tried to concentrate on her homey but tastefully decorated home while the heat seeped into his back, but he couldn’t. He was too conscious of her.

“Do you mind me asking what brings you back to River Oaks?”

“My ranch,” he said off the top of his head, then kicked himself mentally. Why the hell didn’t he tell her the truth?

She gave him a disapproving look, which raised his ire and his curiosity.

“I was hoping you’d come to see about your aunt.”

That flat statement tightened his gut, as well as the noose around his neck. “That, too, of course.”

“She’s a sweetheart, you know? I see her almost every day when I visit my mother, who’s also in the nursing home.”

“I appreciate that a lot.” Tell her, dammit. But the words still wouldn’t come. They stuck in his throat.

“She would appreciate seeing you a lot more.”

While her criticism was wrapped in soft words, he felt the sting nonetheless, a feeling he didn’t like. “Look, I’ve intruded enough on your time. It’s late, and I know you have to work tomorrow.”

“That I do.”

Blessedly, he got to his feet without mishap. “Thanks again for everything. I feel like a heel for—”

Sara held up her hand, stopping his flow of words. “Forget it. You’re not the first to appear on my doorstep at an ungodly hour, nor will you be the last.”

“At least you’re a good sport about it.”

She shrugged. “I consider that part of my job.”

He stared at her a long moment, trying to figure out what was really going on behind those lovely green eyes. Though she met his gaze, he learned nothing. The woman was one cool cookie who either had his number or didn’t didn’t give a damn. Maybe she disliked men in general, or just him in specific.

If the latter was the case, then he was in deep trouble. Somehow he had to figure out a way to do some damage control. But before he could say anything else, she had reached the door and had it open.

“Good night, Clark Garrison. It was nice seeing you again.”

He didn’t believe that for a second. “Same here, Dr. Wilson,” he said, walking out the door.

Once outside he cursed a blue streak.

Three

“You old son of a gun, how’ve you been?”

Clark slapped his foreman, Joe Hanover, on the arm while pumping his hand.

Joe gave him a wide grin that exposed the gaping hole in front where two permanent teeth should’ve been. The remaining teeth were nicotine coated, as Joe smoked like a chimney on the coldest of winter days.

Even so, his health was good, so good that to Clark’s knowledge he’d never missed a day’s work. But with Joe, looks could be deceiving.

Though short and wiry, his foreman was as tough as the cowhide he took care of on a daily basis. In addition, he could do most anything with his hands from plumbing to carpentry work.

Clark shuddered to think of what he would do without his foreman. If nothing else, Joe was invaluable because Clark was rarely able to get to the ranch. He depended sorely on Joe to keep things up and running.

“I’m tolerable,” Joe finally responded, following several deep drags on a cigarette before dropping, then crushing it with a scuff-toed boot. “I sure as hell wasn’t expecting you anytime soon.”

“I wasn’t expecting to be here, either. I stayed at Zelma’s place in town last night and thought I’d stop in this morning for a look around the ranch.”

Joe shoved the brim of his soiled hat back. “So, what’s up?”

“Business, actually.”

“Well, whatever, I’m shore glad to see you, ’cept you don’t look so good.”

“I had a bad night. The old back nailed me.”

“Man, that’s too bad.”

Clark’s mouth curved down. “Yeah, it is. And it’s something I’m going to have to learn to live with.”

Joe merely shook his head.

Clark turned away, his eyes roaming over his treasured domain, taking in pastureland as far as the eye could see, all dotted with cattle. Then he turned and noticed the ranch house sitting atop a hill.

The white paint that covered it sparkled in the morning sunlight. The last time he’d taken a vacation, he and Joe had made some much needed repairs to the rambling old house, making it livable, if not cozy.

“You stayin’ for a while?” Joe asked.

“I’m not sure. Right now, though, I have to go, but I’ll be back later.”

Joe waved his hand. “I’ll be here. I’m starting to brand that new herd we got last week.”

“Again, I sure appreciate you taking care of that for me,” Clark said, hearing the longing in his own voice.

A friend from Lufkin had called and said he was selling off his herd and had wanted to know if he was interested. Clark had said yes without hesitation. But he’d been unable to get away; too much was going on. Of course he’d called Joe, who had said, No sweat, boss.

Apparently, it hadn’t been any sweat, as the new cattle were chomping on his grass with the same vengeance as hogs on slop. Clark felt envious of Joe and his relatively uncomplicated life.

Hell, he’d like to be dressed in his grubs the same as Joe and work with him, tagging the cattle with the Garrison Ranch brand.

One of these days, Clark told himself.

“Look, you don’t have to thank me,” Joe said. “I’m just doing the job I love.”

Clark smiled, then slapped him on the shoulder again. “Just don’t ever quit on me.”

“I’d be a crazy man to do that.” Joe grinned. “Hell, you pay too much.”

Clark laughed. “I’ll see you later.”

Once Clark was back in his utility vehicle, he took one more look around the place, sighed, then drove off. When he’d awakened earlier that morning, he’d been afraid to move for fear his back would freeze up on him again.

It hadn’t, thanks to the doc with the magic fingers. Thoughts of Sara and the evening before had jumped to the front of his mind in vivid detail, and he’d groaned. He couldn’t afford emotionally or monetarily to think about Sara Wilson in any capacity other than that of a doctor and a businesswoman. Yet the fact that she was part owner of the facility he was sent there to purchase had definitely rattled his cage.

Earlier that morning, instead of dwelling on the predicament he was in, he’d gotten out of bed, showered and, over several cups of coffee, had read the entire file concerning the facility and the owners. The information had been sketchy, but he wasn’t worried. All he needed to know was how to get the owners’ names on the dotted line of a sales contract.

With that uppermost in his mind, Clark had intended to head straight for the nursing facility, eager to scope it out. And with his aunt Zelma residing there, he had every right to be on hand and do all the snooping he wanted without raising any suspicion.

However, at the last minute, he’d decided to run by the ranch, eager to see that, as well. Now as he drove through the arched gates of Quiet Haven, to say he was impressed with what he saw would be an understatement.

This was indeed a prototype facility, one Norton and Associates just had to have. Excitement coursed through Clark as he parked the vehicle and got out. The outside, surrounded by gardens, both flower and vegetable, was awesome. When he walked inside, he pulled up short, equally impressed.

He hadn’t a clue whether it was Sara or the Merricks or both who were responsible for the building and the decor. No matter, it was damn well done. So far he hadn’t seen a nursing home that could equal this one, and he’d only stepped inside the front door.

To the right and left of the entryway were two spacious living areas with nice furniture and game tables. In both of the rooms, residents were milling about. Clark knew from the blueprint of the facility that it was comprised of three wings. First off, he needed to locate the unit where his aunt resided.

Suddenly he felt a tug on his arm, followed by a small voice saying, “Mister.”

Clark swung around to find a tiny lady with watery eyes staring up him. He smiled. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Do you know where I live?”

“No, ma’am, I don’t,” Clark said uneasily, not used to dealing with the residents themselves.

Her lower lip quivered.

“But I bet I can find out and take you home,” Clark said quickly, sensing she was about to burst into tears.

Her uneven features brightened. “Oh, thank you.”

Before he’d taken two steps, a nurse approached them. “Sir, are you a relative of Mrs. Mary’s?”

“No, I’m not,” Clark answered in a soft tone.

“I didn’t think so.” The nurse gave him a lame smile, then placed her arm around the lady’s shoulders. “Come on, Mary, I’ll take you to your room.”

Clark swallowed a hard sigh as he strode forward to the nurses’ station, where he asked directions to Zelma’s room. Once there, he found his aunt sitting in a chair sound asleep. He pulled another chair beside his aunt’s, but didn’t wake her, trying to come to grips with the change in her. She seemed to have shriveled up, nothing like the tall, strapping woman she used to be, who could and would take a belt to him whenever she thought necessary.

Considering he had turned into a responsible citizen, after all, he guessed she had done the right thing, though at the time he’d resented her.

“Aunt Zelma,” he whispered, shaking her gently on the arm.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared at him through glazed, empty eyes.

“It’s me, Sonny.”

“Sonny,” she repeated, then smiled.

“Yeah, Sonny, your nephew. Don’t you remember?”

She smiled again. “Do you like my dress?”

Clark’s heart lurched as he looked at what she was wearing. That was when he noticed she had on not one, but two dresses. He shook his head, thinking he couldn’t handle much more of this. “Uh, your dress is lovely.”

“Now, who are you?” Zelma asked before her head lobbed back and her eyes closed.

He patted her awkwardly on the arm, then watched helplessly while her chest moved up and down.

“Mrs. Gillispie, you’re going to be just fine.”

The woman’s round face stretched into a grin. “Oh, thank you, thank you, Doctor. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Sara smiled. “I’m just glad it was muscle spasms in your back and nothing more serious.”

“You can forget Dr. Sara taking any praise, Mrs. Gillispie. She’s not about to. There’s something in her makeup that forbids such a thing.”

Sara gave her nurse Rosa Foster one of her “looks,” but Rosa, as usual, paid her no heed.

“Don’t you agree?” Rosa asked the woman.

“I sure do, honey,” Mrs. Gillispie responded, her gaze steadfast on Sara. “But it doesn’t matter, we’ll sing her praises, anyway.”

“I just did my job like I do every day of the week, like any other chiropractor worth her salt does.”

Mrs. Gillispie had stepped into the cubicle to dress, but that didn’t stop her from commenting. “Well, I for one don’t know what River Oaks would do without you, especially the way these cattlemen and farmers around here are always pulling something out of whack.”

“Well, again, Mrs. Gillispie,” Sara said mildly, “I appreciate your loyalty If you have any more problems, give me a call.”

“You can count on that, Doctor.”

Once the woman had left the office, Rosa said, “Oh, by the way, Mrs. Gillispie was our last patient.”

Sara peered at her watch and noticed it was only four-thirty. She’d have time to visit her mother and get home before dark, which would be a rarity.

With it being early October, the days were shorter, so when she got a chance to leave early, she took it. Today was no exception.

“Thanks for the unexpected break,” she told Rosa.

“Do you ever regret coming back here?” Rosa’s eyes narrowed on her. “In Dallas you had a great place to live and a lucrative practice, not to mention all those single guys running loose.”

Sara didn’t hesitate. “No, absolutely not.”

“You’re indeed one in a million, my friend, because there’s nothing here for a lovely, single woman like you.”

“I’m not lovely, and I enjoy being single.”

“You are lovely and you have a dynamite body, which—”

“Enough, Rosa!”

Rosa’s pretty features sobered. “I hope I didn’t offend you. I know you have your mother and the home—”

“Hey, no offense taken. Forget it. I’ll see you tomorrow. Give your kiddos a hug for me.”

“Will do.”

Once in her office, Sara shut the door and took a deep breath. While she adored Rosa, who was invaluable in her dual role as nurse and office manager, she could be a handful at times. Yet Sara often envied that wild streak in Rosa, knowing she was far too much the other way—too quiet and too much a loner.

When she had left Dallas and returned to the small community outside of Lufkin, she had run into Rosa at the post office. They had caught up on old times, and before she’d gotten her stamps, Rosa had been hired.

Sara hadn’t regretted that impulsive decision, a rarity for her, and that had been three years ago. Her practice had grown steadily. Much of that growth was due to Rosa who told everyone about the clinic.

Still, it hadn’t grown enough. Sara wasn’t sure it ever would, at least not enough to enable her to pay off her huge bank note on the nursing facility in which she was part owner.

When she’d been knocking down that big salary in Dallas, meeting the note hadn’t been a problem. But now her situation was different.

Sara frowned, trying to steer her thoughts in another direction. She didn’t want to think about that burden. It was much too depressing and frightening to dwell on how she was going to juggle her finances each month to meet her obligations.

Rubbing the back of her neck, Sara removed her white coat and hung it up. Then grabbing her purse, she dashed out the back door.

Four

Sara stopped and perused her surroundings. Due to certain state guidelines, Quiet Haven had been designed for function, not beauty. But the grounds were a different matter altogether. The landscaping, including flower gardens filled with seasonal annuals of all colors, sizes and shapes, was breathtaking.

Sara found herself actually holding her breath as her eyes focused on a huge bed of pansies. Their bright, multicolored faces seemed to be staring right at her.

Realizing she was wasting time, Sara shifted her Camry in gear once again and drove around to the back, parked and walked inside where she was once again filled with pride. To think this upscale facility, consisting of three wings all under one roof—skilled nursing which included Alzheimer’s patients, regular residents and assisted-living efficiency apartments—was part hers.

Though Quiet Haven was already five years old, it had the appearance of just having opened. That was due to the way it was run, something Sara and her partners were in total agreement about. Cleanliness and quality care was their motto.

The personal and financial sacrifices she had made in order to become an owner were well worth it, more so now, since this was where her mother would likely live out the rest of her life.

With thoughts of Katherine in mind, Sara increased her pace and headed toward her mother’s large corner room in the assisted-living wing. As she passed down the carpeted hall, she saw several women with canes and walkers. She smiled and spoke a few words to each before moving on.

Finally reaching her mother’s door, Sara opened it. Katherine was sitting in her favorite rocker, facing the garden.

“Mamma.”

Katherine Wilson swiveled, and when she saw her daughter a smile brightened her face. “Hi, darling. Come in.”

Sara crossed to her mother’s side, leaned over and kissed a rouged cheek, then eased into an adjacent chair. “So, how was your day? Any pain in the old hip?”

“Not too bad.”

Sara sighed. “You wouldn’t tell me if the pain was excruciating.”

“Now, now, you know better than that,” Katherine admonished in a soft, gentle tone.

Sara grabbed a fragile blue-veined hand and held it. If she had any regrets, it was where her mother was concerned. The reason she had left Dallas in the first place was to take care of Katherine after she fell and broke a hip.

However, when her mother was released from the rehab unit at the hospital, she refused to live with Sara or let anyone live with her. Much to Sara’s chagrin, it was Katherine’s choice to move into Quiet Haven. Even her younger sister Alice, who lived in St. Louis with her family, hadn’t been able to persuade her mother to change her mind.

So far Katherine seemed to have no regrets. And while Sara would’ve preferred to have had things her way, she had learned to respect, if not accept, her mother’s desire for independence.

“How are you today, my dear?” Katherine asked in her soft voice.

“Busy.”

“That’s wonderful.”

Sara squeezed her mother’s hand, thinking what an attractive woman she still was, even though she was in her late sixties. Like her, Katherine was tall but with a much stouter frame that was now slightly bent from osteoporosis. Still, her hair was thick and a lush color of gray that matched her eyes.

While she might look weak and fragile, she wasn’t. She was headstrong to a fault, a fact Sara had difficulty with as Katherine was her underpinnings; her daddy having died of a heart attack years earlier. Because Alice lived so far away, it sometimes seemed as if she didn’t have a sister, that it was just her and her mother.

“Why don’t you have supper with me?” Katherine’s eyes held a teasing glint. “We’re having lasagna.”

Sara wrinkled her nose. “My least favorite, which you well know.”

“Well, you can’t blame me for trying. It certainly wouldn’t hurt you to put some meat on those thin bones.”

“Don’t you start. Rosa’s already been on my case today.”

“About what?”

“Oh, the usual,” Sara hedged, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. While her mother’s body was failing, her mind was as sharp as ever.

“She worries about you being alone just like I do.”

“Now, Mother, don’t start. I’m fine the way I am.”

“That’s absurd. You don’t have a life. All you do is tend to the sick and afflicted both at the office and here.”

Sara laughed.

“It’s not funny, especially when the only man in your life is older than your mother and a codger to boot.”

“Why, Mother, I can’t believe you’re talking about Uncle Newt like that, especially someone who’s been and still is a lifelong friend.”

Newton Frazier was a retired chiropractor who had become her mentor and whom she visited on a regular basis.

“That’s the problem. He’s my friend and shouldn’t be yours. Besides, he’s not a good influence on you.”

Sara laughed and shook her head. “That makes absolutely no sense. If it weren’t for Uncle Newt, I wouldn’t have this practice and you know it.”

“You’re right, of course, but you need to be around young people, not us old folks all the time.”

“You let me worry about that, okay? Besides, I’m trying to convince Newt to move here. He’s getting too old and much too feeble to live alone.”

Her mother gave an unladylike snort. “Good luck. His head’s as hard as yours.”

Sara hid her smile. “Look, I’m happy with my life the way it is. So give me a break. Now, about my sister, have you heard from her lately?”

“As a matter of fact, I got a letter today.”

“How are things with them?”

Katherine suddenly looked troubled. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I sense all is not well between her and Dennis.”

“That’s nothing new. You know Alice—if there isn’t a crisis in the making, she’s not happy.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say.”

Sara shrugged. “It’s the truth. Anyhow, if there is trouble, they’ll straighten it out. They always do.”

“You’re right. It’s just that I was hoping she and the kids could pay us a visit.”

“Maybe they can,” Sara said, dropping her mother’s hand and rising to her feet. “I have to run, Mamma.”

“But, honey, you just got here.”

Sara leaned over and grazed Katherine’s cheek with her lips. “I know, but I have some errands to run.”

“Of course you do, darling. Don’t pay any attention to this selfish old woman.”