“If that’s legal, sure, why not.” He didn’t care who bought the property. He just needed the money. “When everything’s settled and I’m ready to sell, I’ll let you know.”
“Wow. So kind of you to tell me when you plan to sell my home.”
He almost laughed at her snarky comment. He might appreciate her backbone and the way she filled out her scrubs... Jeez...what was his problem? “Promise.” Her gaze stayed on him. He couldn’t look away. “Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.” Now, what had made him say something that juvenile and stupid?
She laughed. “You know, Daddy Gene said that same thing.” Suddenly, she stopped smiling.
Her face settled into lines of pain, her eyes darkening. He knew that pain. He was feeling it, too. Missing Gene. The man who’d helped him become...a man, with his rough-and-tumble advice and affection. AJ reached out and dragged her into a hug, pulling her against him to stop the pain, for both of them. “I’m so sorry. I know how much Gene loved you and your mama.”
She didn’t move and he stared out over her head and into the expanse of scrubby desert and mountains around them. He’d never been in mountains with so little vegetation. In Kentucky, the only time a mountain looked this bad was after mining. Here it was the natural order of things. The lack of green wore on his eyes.
“I miss him. I miss him so much,” Pepper said in a hoarse whisper.
AJ wasn’t good at this sort of thing, never had been. But he couldn’t walk away from her sadness and tears. “I know, honey,” he said. He looked down at her, where she’d buried her face into his shoulder. Her hair was pulled back from a center part to a loose and messy bun at the back of her head. It had streaks of golden red in the light brown. The lush fullness surprised him. She appeared so tightly wound except for the softness of her hair, and her brightly colored toenails. No way should he be spending so much time determining the exact color of her hair or noticing that she had daisies painted on her toenails. He relaxed his hold a little, needing some space between them. She clutched at him.
“Not yet,” she whispered as a breath shuddered from her.
He brushed his cheek against her temple and he nearly kissed her, wanting to soothe her distress and let her know she wasn’t alone. Instead, he held her loosely against him. He could guess what her curves would feel like and what they might do to him if he pulled her closer. He wasn’t that much of a dog.
Her scent of spice and citrus filled his head, such a sweet fresh smell. It reminded him of the time between spring and summer, full of promise.
“Did Daddy Gene really talk about us when he was still riding bulls?” she asked, not moving her face from his shoulder.
“Sure.” This topic was much safer than where his mind had gone when his hand encountered the sexy deep curve of her waist. He’d just stopped himself from testing the swell of her hip. He kept his eye on a large cactus in the near distance. “He said that Faye loved turquoise and pepitas. Pumpkin seeds.” Pepper nodded so he went on. “He said you refused to let him get you another horse when yours died from colic.” Crap. Why had he brought up that story? He could feel the sadness course through her as she burrowed into his shoulder again, like she could hide there forever. Surprisingly, he would have let her if it would have helped.
“Toni,” she said, her voice muffled. “Her name was Antonia. I didn’t think I’d ever not be sad again. For a while, I wanted to be a vet, but then when Daddy Gene got sick the first time, I realized medicine—human medicine—was for me.” She relaxed against him.
He wrapped his arms more fully around her, wanting to...he wasn’t sure what, other than make her feel better, to lessen the sadness he felt in her every muscle and heard in her voice. She hadn’t asked for this any more than he had. They both needed to weather the situation as best they could. He could guess at her sorrow now. It was an echo of his own. He missed Gene. He’d been someone AJ knew he could count on if anything went wrong. He hadn’t kept in close touch during the years after Gene left the rodeo, but he’d known his cousin would be there if he needed him. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here earlier, before Gene passed, but...there was EllaJayne and her mama.”
Pepper stiffened and not from sorrow. Crap. His smooth tongue had deserted him. He usually wasn’t so clueless with women.
She pulled away and turned her head but he saw her wipe at her eyes. “I’m good now,” she said with taut determination. “What do we do? Shake hands?”
Pepper thrust out her hand and stepped away from AJ’s heat. Shake hands and move on. That was what she needed to do. Forget she’d broken down in his arms and had liked—way too much—the warm strength of him. He took her hand in his and lingered for a second. She didn’t change her grip, making her gaze stay on him. How had she not seen the tiny white scar that stretched up from the corner of his upper lip and another on the outside of his dark brow? His face told her what she needed to know. A rodeo cowboy. They didn’t stick around.
“Okay?” he asked with soft gruffness.
She shifted her eyes to a place over his shoulder where she could see the mountains that surrounded Angel Crossing. “I’ll get you sitters’ names.” She could do this. She had to do this for herself, for Faye and for Angel Crossing. They were all counting on her.
As for the other part of this debacle, that he and EllaJayne remain at the ranch? That would be all right, too. No matter there would be months and months of sharing a bathroom, a kitchen. It would be very intimate. No. Cramped. And she’d already gotten a good view of a fit-for-bull-riding cowboy walking around in a towel.
Faye danced onto the patio, bouncing EllaJayne on her hip. “We’re going to breathe in the colors.”
“Grana,” the toddler agreed as they danced off.
Pepper gritted her teeth and glanced at AJ to gauge his reaction. Until she was a teen, Pepper had stayed at the ranch, with Faye homeschooling her. Then she’d gone to public school, where a cowboy wearing anything but Wranglers was cause for comment, and her mother’s unusual view of the world after years of living in a commune had mortified Pepper. Now, some days she could appreciate how growing up with Faye had taught her compassion and patience. Angel Crossing needed both. The residents were stubborn about changing anything, even things that would make them healthier.
“All done,” Faye said, snuggling her nose against the toddler’s. “The blue sky smelled like Aqua Velva and the white clouds made us both think sheets dried outside.” The little girl giggled.
“I’ll take her now,” AJ said, holding his arms out for his daughter.
“Wait,” Pepper said. Suddenly, the whole day felt too huge, like something had shifted in the world. Dear Lord, she was starting to sound like Faye. She dug deep for the calm and unemotional Pepper who took over during emergencies. “I want to make sure that we’re clear on our responsibilities.” AJ nodded. She went through the list, while she kept a professional eye on him. She needed to use her PA Spidey Senses. She could ferret out a lie at twenty paces—at least that’s what she told patients. She just wanted to be certain that he would stick by the agreement.
She looked at him hard. It didn’t take a medical degree to interpret his bloodshot eyes or the dark circles underneath. He was exhausted. Why hadn’t she noticed that before? She wanted to tell AJ to go get some sleep and she’d take care of everything. But he wasn’t her responsibility. She didn’t have to care