Disobedient Cowboys [Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (4 page)

“I wouldn’t take a narcotic anyway. The usual over-the-counter stuff is fine.” She shifted on the mattress and winced a little. “Extra-strength would be nice, though.”

“I’ll have the nurse bring you some acetaminophen while I write up your discharge orders. I’ll also prescribe an anti-inflammatory.” He flicked a glance at Caleb as he continued. “Do you have a ride home?”

She hadn’t thought of that. No doubt her car had seen better days. Not that he’d probably want her driving herself after a head injury.

“I’ll make sure she gets where she needs to go,” Caleb said.

Rose turned to him with a wry smile. “Don’t tell me you’re planning to carry me home, too?”

He settled his hat back on his head, and the full cowboy image emerged. Her imagination lit on fire. “I’ve got my truck.”

“Good,” the doctor said. “No driving for her until she’s seen for follow-up.”

Caleb looked sheepish. “Her car’s totaled anyway. I got it towed out and called the insurance company.”

She gaped at him. “You did?”

“The card was in your wallet. I’m real sorry about the car.”

“It’s okay. It’s more important that we’re in one piece. When can I go back to work?” she asked, turning to the doctor. “Or, rather, start work?”

“Follow up with your primary physician in two days. He can release you back to work at his discretion.”

She shrugged. “I’m brand new in town. I don’t have a doctor out here.”

“Right. Of course.” He regarded her with those gold-rush eyes while she secretly willed him to offer to see her himself. “Follow up in our ER in two days, sooner if you have any problems. The ER doctor can return you to work.”

So much for that. Still, a sigh of relief followed. It was nice to hear things would be back on track soon. “Thank you.” He picked up her chart and turned to go, but she stopped him. “Oh, and Doctor? It was nice meeting you.”

He turned to her with that stomach-spearing smile. “I suspect we’ll meet again soon.”

All sorts of happy thoughts accompanied that statement until she realized what he meant. “Oh, yeah. What with us both working here and all.”

Dr. Williams shot Caleb an all-serious look. “Follow me out to the station. There are a couple other things I need to mention.”

Caleb stared at him warily. “It ain’t like I’m Rose’s spokesperson. Whatever you got to tell her, you can do it here.”

The doctor frowned. “This isn’t about Rose. It’s about your injury.”

Caleb shifted in his seat and folded his arms. “Ah. That.”

“I’m mandated to report gunshot wounds,” the doctor went on. “If you’ll come answer a couple questions, I can decide whether that will be necessary in this case.”

Rose felt a flicker of guilt. Blabbing about the gunshot wasn’t a nice way to say thanks to her rescuer. She’d just felt compelled. For some reason, she’d really wanted Dr. Williams to know Caleb was hurt.

Caleb sighed heavily. “Fine.” He pushed back the chair and stood, rounding the bed. He tipped his hat to Rose as he did. “I’ll be back to take you home.”

A doctor and a cowboy—two childhood fantasies, side by side. Be still, my rapidly beating heart, she thought.

With a final glance at her, the men departed. The room felt completely empty minus the two hot studs. One of them she’d see again when she started work in a few days. The other was about to give her a lift home. Lord, have mercy.

Several hours later, Rose pulled a comb through her damp hair. Wet locks hung in a straight sheet of burgundy, brushing over the bruising on her collarbone. Staring in the mirror at the mottled seat belt marks that ran diagonally across her chest, it was little wonder she had felt so rotten when she woke up in the hospital. Still, the hot bath Caleb insisted on drawing as soon as she got home had done a world of good. And now, the man who had literally crashed into her life was just one room away while she stood naked in the bedroom of her new apartment.

She swallowed at the thought and wandered to the closet to pull on a powder-blue tank top, a soft, white sweater, and black jogging pants. Running would be out for a few days, which was a shame. She’d been looking forward to jogging in the beautiful, rustic surroundings.

After wiggling her toes on the cold floor, she tugged on a pair of socks. The mountain climate had been a huge change from her last assignment, back in the south where it was warm and humid this time of year. That seemed like ages ago.

One last look in the mirror failed to impress her. There were faint circles beneath her grayish-blue eyes, and her skin seemed paler than usual against the purplish bruising on her chest and face. Skid marks from the air bag were scabbing over on her nose and cheek. Yuck.

She should be grateful, she knew. Things could have been much worse. She was on her feet, able to worry about things like whether her hard nipples were noticeable through the thin sweater. Her biggest problem at the moment was drumming up the courage to face her hero.

The man had carried her two miles to make sure she got help despite her clipping him with her car. Bleeding and injured, he’d seen to her safety first. Funny how men had thrown themselves at her for years without success, but when a wolf had thrown itself in front of her, she suddenly had not one, but two men wedged prominently in her thoughts.

A slick of lip gloss failed to completely disguise her flaky, dry lips, and finally, she couldn’t stall any longer. She gave her bed a longing glance as she passed it on her way to the living room.

Caleb was on the couch. His larger-than-life presence made the small space shrink even closer around his broad shoulders. He was sleeping, slumped way down in his seat with his hat pulled completely over his face and his fingers folded across his stomach. She stood still, smiling privately at the sight of him looking so relaxed and at home. The way she’d first seen him that morning, framed by the window, had been memorable too. She wasn’t sure which image would stick to her tighter when they returned to their separate lives.

“How was the bath?” he asked, muffled into the Stetson.

“Oh! I didn’t realize you were awake.”

He pulled off his hat and shook his bangs aside. “I rested my eyes for a few, but I’m a very light sleeper.” A frown creased his perfect face. “Don’t know why I keep noddin’ off. Been happenin’ like that since yesterday.”

“I don’t doubt it. You were shot, after all. Your body needs a chance to heal.”

“Sleep ain’t what normally helps that.” He stood up and wandered near the door, hanging his hat on a wall peg there. “I’ve got some tried-and-trues, though,” he went on, wandering back to stand at the couch. “Which brings me back to my question. Did the bath help?”

“The bath was perfect, thanks.” She pulled her sweater tighter around her as he swept a fast but no less unsettling glance over every inch of her. “You were right—I feel a lot more human.”

“No dizzy spells?”

“Not so far. My headache’s mostly gone for the moment, too. The pain medicine I took earlier helped.”

He favored her with a stomach-tickling smile. “Good.”

“Should I make you something?” she asked. “I’m feeling good enough that I can probably scare something up.”

The smile dissolved. “The only thing you need to scare up is a spot on this couch. Feedin’ my face is the last thing you should be worried about.”

“It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done.”

“I’ll grab somethin’ later. For now, rest.”

She happily sank down on the couch. He followed suit, keeping a respectable distance. Weariness invaded her, and curling up for a nap would have been nice. First, she should probably let the guy off the hook so he wouldn’t feel the need to babysit. Even if the thought of him going away sent a pang of disappointment through her.

“I really appreciate all this,” she said. “I’m sorry everything took so long today.”

It had taken forever to get home. Processing her discharge had taken hours, and then Caleb had insisted on stopping not only at the pharmacy to fill her prescription, but the supermarket. There, he wouldn’t even let her get out of the truck. He returned with mysterious bags he’d unloaded into her fridge while she bathed. Now, light was already fading fast from the living room window as she tucked her legs beneath her.

He shrugged. “It wasn’t a problem.”

“I’m probably keeping you from something important,” she persisted.

“You are somethin’ important.”

The way he looked at her when he said it twisted around in her chest. When she started to say more, to do the right thing by encouraging him to leave her when her body was whispering otherwise, he cut her off.

“If you don’t mind me sayin’,” he said, “this place ain’t quite what I expected. I’d figured you for a different sort of style.”

She blinked at the change of topic but nodded as she took in the plaid sofa and dark wood tones in the nondescript, hotel-style furnishings. Aside from a pretty arrangement of bright silk flowers on the end table beside her, the cowboy hat he’d hung up on the wall was the homiest touch in the place. “You’re right,” she said. “The rental came furnished. It’s paid for as part of my nursing contract, so I don’t mind living in a different aesthetic. It’s only temporary, anyway.”

“You lookin’ for a more permanent place?”

“I’m not staying.”

“Is that so?”

Her heart gave a little sputter at the humorous tone in his words. A note of disappointment over her leaving would have been nice.

She folded her arms. “I’m a travel nurse, and I take assignments all over. My current contract is up in thirteen weeks.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, still surprisingly unconvinced. “Where you headed then?”

“Hawaii.” She couldn’t help beaming wide. “It’s a dream assignment I’ve been waiting on for two years. I can’t wait to go. If anything, that might be the place I try to look for something permanent.”

That seemed to strike a note finally, and a crease deepened the brow barely visible beneath his bangs. They looked at one another in silence for a moment, and she tried to breathe shallow and even to help offset the disorienting effect of his gold-and-gemstone eyes.

He leaned forward and pulled her sketch pad off the coffee table. “I was lookin’ at these while you were soakin’ in the tub. Did you draw them?”

She nodded, feeling a funny jolt at the thought of him looking through her artwork. It seemed so deeply personal that he’d done so. Like he’d glimpsed into her soul. Her art wasn’t something she normally showed to people.

“They’re really good,” he went on. “You have quite a talent.”

“Thank you.”

He flipped open the pad and thumbed through several pages. “Seems like you have a thing for waterfalls.”

She watched as pencil sketches of water landscapes flipped past. “I can’t explain it, really. They just fascinate me.”

“And now you’re livin’ in Shay Falls. Coincidence?”

She shrugged. “I’ll admit the town’s name had a certain appeal when I heard it.”

“You’ve been to all these places?”

“Just a few. The rest were sketched off of photos and other things.”

He stopped suddenly on one page. “What about this one?” He held it up for her to see. “Have you been here?”

A flush of warmth crept into her cheeks. “No. I, uh, well, you’ll think it’s stupid.”

“Try me.”

She cleared her throat. “It’s not a real place. I sketched it based on a dream I’ve had several times.”

He took his time staring at the picture, and the sight of it brought the dreams back to her. Or the single dream, rather, replayed over and over. It was so compelling, so sensual. The very memory of it spiked her pulse.

“Oh, it’s a real place, all right,” he said at last. “I’ll take you to it, if you’d like.”

She cocked her head at him. “What do you mean?”

Caleb held the drawing closer to her. “This is a sketch of Shay Falls.”

Her mouth fell open. “No, it’s not. It just came out of a dream.”

“That dream is real. And you’re here now.”

“Maybe it just looks like Shay Falls,” she said in puzzlement. “A lot of waterfalls are alike.”

“Each one is unique, actually. Somethin’ your artist’s eye has captured in these sketches quite well. See here?” He scooted closer to her on the sofa, his body heat reaching out to her as he pointed out the top of a ridge surrounding the falls. “Look at that row of pines dottin’ one side, but not the other. And down at the base, where you’ve got this group of boulders juttin’ out of the water. And this tall boulder standin’ on the bank, butted up against the woods. It’s exactly the same, Rose. Down to every last detail.”

She gaped at the drawing, listening to blood pound in her ears. The throbbing in her head sharpened as she tried to absorb what he was saying. It wasn’t possible. If she’d managed to nail the setting so well, why hadn’t she been able to pin down other details she would be wise not to think about now?

“This is the only thing that’s out of place,” he went on, tapping his finger over a spot that turned her stomach upside down. “And yet it’s right at home.”