She saw him approach and sank back on the damp sand. “I’m fine,” she said in a raspy voice, a sign she was out of breath.
“You—”
“I’m fine. Really.” This time her voice had a note of anger, and he stepped away, knowing he was invading her privacy and it was upsetting her. Against everything he’d been taught as a kid by his parents, he walked on. Even though he knew the woman needed help, he wasn’t going to push it. But then some things you just don’t outgrow. He looked back and she was continuing to try to stand, holding on to the Lab as if to give her a boost.
He hurried back and held out his arm, almost in her face, and stared at her, just daring her to resist. To his amazement, she didn’t. She grabbed his forearm and pulled herself up. No thank-you. No nothing. She didn’t even look at him.
In the brief moment she had glanced at him earlier he’d noticed her eyes—sea green, the color of the water behind him. Warm. Inviting. Tempting. And angry. Light brown hair peeked out from the hood of her jacket and her skin was pale. Very pale, as if she’d been ill. What was she doing on the beach alone in January? She had that fragile look about her and the jogging suit hung on her thin body.
She turned, the dog at her side, her hand on its collar, and slowly made her way to the hotel behind him. Paxton shook his head. He’d never had an encounter with a woman quite like that. But it was none of his business. He just hoped that there was someone waiting for her in the hotel.
His hand unconsciously went to the spot on his arm where she’d touched him. Even through his jacket and a shirt he could still feel it. She was trembling and trying to hide it as best as she could. What stood out even more was the fact she was scared to death.
* * *
REMI ROBERTS SLOWLY made it to her room and eased onto the bed. Tears trickled from her eyes and she fought hard to control her emotions. Sadie, her dog, jumped up beside her and she wrapped her arms around the warm and solid dog to steady herself. How could she have been so stupid?
Her mother and stepfather had said she didn’t need to go anywhere alone, but had she listened? Of course not. She wanted to be independent again and she wanted to prove that to her family.
She had spent so much time in therapy. She knew she was better and each day she’d grown stronger. Just not strong enough to get up from the ground. She’d adventured outside early to watch the sunrise and then had decided to just sit and watch the morning as it opened like a curtain on a play. What would this day hold? She hadn’t considered how long she’d been sitting on the ground. She’d had so much confidence she could get to her feet. But she hadn’t been able to. She’d tried and tried and still her stubborn left leg would not work. The accident would always be with her and she was fighting every day to get back some of her life.
As she’d struggled to stand, she’d prayed a prince charming would rescue her. Then she’d looked up and seen him. Her heart had jackknifed into her throat. He had to be the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. A lethal grin had tugged at the corners of his perfectly shaped mouth. Beneath the cowboy hat, she’d glimpsed dark hair. His eyes were a rich caramel brown that held a sleepy-eyed allure. His face had to have been chiseled by the hand of God and stroked by the wings of angels. It was perfect. Masculine. Sexy. And sparked a raw earthiness that stirred an awakening in her lower belly.
He was a cowboy.
A lot of girls liked cowboys.
She hadn’t been one of them. And today she wondered why.
She didn’t know what had made her so stiff and unfriendly, but accepting his help meant she wasn’t better. She still needed more therapy, more support from her family. Her life was on hold. And that meant she would lose Annie.
She couldn’t lose Annie.
* * *
ON THURSDAY MORNING Paxton sat with his brothers in the Rebel Ranch office discussing the day’s work. Falcon, his oldest brother, and their mom sat at their desks and the others gathered around, waiting for orders for the day. Even Grandpa was there.
“Leah and John have doctors’ appointments in Houston today and I’ve taken the day off,” Falcon said. Leah, Falcon’s wife, had had a brain tumor when John was born. He was a preemie but no one would guess that today by the rowdy little boy he was. “Justin is sick so Egan is at home taking care of him because Rachel went back to teaching. Phoenix is working on his house. And Jude is helping Phoenix.”
“Quincy is out for the day, too,” his mother said. “Jenny has been put on bed rest and he wants to make sure she’s following rules.”
“Guess who that leaves to handle the feeding.” Elias straightened his hat with a strong hand. “Let’s go, Jericho.” Elias glanced at Paxton. “Are you working?”
His mother raised her head. “I have something else for Paxton this morning, but he’ll join you later.”
“Sure.” Elias slapped Paxton on the shoulder.
Grandpa got to his feet. “I’ll help you boys. I can still ride a horse.”
“We’re feeding cows, Grandpa,” Elias said.
“You don’t think I’ve ever fed cows?”
They were arguing as they went out the door. Falcon followed and that left him and his mother. He knew what was coming. Something in the house needed fixing. He was good at plumbing, wiring, all kinds of contracting work. And he hated it. But sometimes he did what he had to.
He leaned forward in his chair, his hands clasped between his legs. “So what do you need?”
His mother waved a hand. “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that. You know Miss Bertie Snipes?”
“Everybody knows Miss Bertie and steers clear of her. She’s loony as a bat.”
“Now, son, I raised you not to be judgmental or critical. Her son was killed in the marines, her only son, and it changed her. Yes, she’s a little different, and she needs our help.”
That rolled around in his head for a minute, and if it sounded like he thought it did, he was ready to run. “What are you talking about?”
“Quincy usually helps her with her cows since Edgar died, but he’s busy this morning and I thought you would be nice enough to haul her calves to the auction barn in Cameron. If you take the shortcut, it shouldn’t take you long.”
Paxton jumped to his feet. “Oh, no, no!”
His mother took off her glasses and laid them on the desk alongside a picture of his dad and her when they’d first gotten married. His eyes rested on the photo and he couldn’t seem to look away from all the love and the pain that was echoed there and in his heart.
“I don’t want to force you to do anything. So if that’s the way you feel, I’ll haul the calves.”
His mother was a master at playing the guilt card and it was working, like always, making him feel guilty, selfish and self-centered. A bell, like a church bell, sounded in his head. He wanted to change his life and this was where he started. By helping others. But why did it have to be a crazy old lady?
* * *
THIRTY MINUTES LATER he crossed the main highway from Rebel Road to County Road 461. Miss Bertie lived in a small white frame house with black shutters and a chain-link fence. The property was neat and clean and shaded with big oak trees. An Australian blue healer raced around the chain-link fence at the rattle of the cow trailer.
Paxton drove to the back and saw the corral was to the left. A 1990 Chevy truck was parked near the barn and a small SUV was in front of the house. He knew the SUV wasn’t Miss Bertie’s so she must have company. That was good. He could get this over with quickly.
Calves milled around in the corral. That was another good thing. Loading would be easy. He backed up to the wood chute and got out.