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A Baby On His Doorstep
Roz Denny Fox


A chance to prove himself…When Rio McNabb's bronc-riding career is side-lined by an injury, the only upside is his gorgeous live-in nurse, Binney Taylor. There’s just one hitch – Binney used to have a crush on his identical twin brother. Rio's sure that he can earn her affection, but then a stranger shows up with an infant boy claiming that Rio is the father!As a foster kid, Binney's always longed for a real family. Now, with Rio and the surprise baby, Lonesome Road Ranch feels like the home she never had. But she's trying to keep things professional, because when Rio heals, everything could change. Rio has competed with his twin his entire life. For Binney and the baby, he'll finally have to prove he's the better man.







A CHANCE TO PROVE HIMSELF

When Rio McNabb’s bronc-riding career is sidelined by an injury, the only upside is his gorgeous live-in nurse, Binney Taylor. Just one hitch—Binney used to have a crush on his identical twin brother. Rio’s sure that he can earn her affection, but his confidence is rocked when a stranger shows up with an infant boy claiming that Rio is the father.

As a foster kid, Binney’s always longed for a real family. Now, with Rio and the surprise baby, Lonesome Road Ranch feels like the home she never had. But she’s trying to keep things professional, because when Rio heals, everything could change. Rio has competed with his twin his entire life. For Binney and the baby, he’ll finally have to prove he’s the better man.


“I’m worn out,” Rio grumbled. “Can we just get the rest of my clothes on so I can go to sleep?”

Binney tucked the single crutch under his bare arm and slipped her arm around his damp waist. “I’ll be quick.”

It took them a while to make it across to the bed, where Rio sank back with a groan.

Binney was totally unprepared to experience a punch in her gut from merely looking at him sprawled on his bed in nothing but briefs. Averting her eyes, she started at his feet and worked up his legs, and felt his suspicious gaze track her every move.

Privately she chanted, You’re a nurse. He’s a patient. You’re a nurse. He’s a patient.

One fine-looking patient who showed by his grin that he’d begun to enjoy the whole process way too much as she smoothed lotion over his chest and the nicely rippled muscles along his lower abs.


A Baby On His Doorstep

Roz Denny Fox






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ROZ DENNY FOX’s first book was published by Harlequin in 1990. She writes for several Harlequin lines and her books are published worldwide in a number of languages. Roz’s warm home-and-family-focused love stories have been nominated for various industry awards, including the Romance Writers of America’s RITA® Award, the Holt Medallion, the Golden Quill and others. Roz has been a member of the Romance Writers of America since 1987 and is currently a member of Tucson’s Saguaro Romance Writers, where she has received the Barbara Award for outstanding chapter service. In 2013 Roz received her fifty-book pin from Harlequin. Readers can email her through Facebook or at rdfox@cox.net, or visit her website at korynna.com/rozfox (http://www.korynna.com/RozFox/).


I’d like to dedicate this story to my daughters

and their families. You make me so proud,

and you complete my life.


Contents

Cover (#u2bc98abc-c7c5-54b3-9b83-1de4ae9a76a3)

Back Cover Text (#ud11c52ce-5f19-521e-a06f-32e267c46e63)

Introduction (#u31e0e4b5-328d-57ee-ae2a-9a65166afa21)

Title Page (#ud2b894fe-35db-5cc0-a743-9d3011c9d97f)

About the Author (#uf7ae70e2-f7be-5c22-9fa7-0a339098de80)

Dedication (#u0ab5d680-a467-54b2-a986-393e854933bf)

Chapter One (#ue39905a2-1a22-5683-9401-5331de9f0d20)

Chapter Two (#u02b95b06-f033-5e53-8318-770b0310bae5)

Chapter Three (#uf4863610-b9aa-57dd-8b19-40a5bb4befa4)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#u9cf95bf5-670c-511e-8cb2-343c49af3220)

Rio McNabb vaguely registered the sights, sounds and blended odors of hay, animals and concession stands at the regional rodeo in Abilene, Texas. Really he’d honed in more on the bronc rider who preceded him who’d failed to make the required time to be in money contention.

Striding toward his chute, he smiled at the handlers preparing the mount that would be his last ride with the PRCA. He’d earned enough over his years on the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association circuit to buy the Lonesome Road Ranch from his folks. Like most ranchers they’d been land rich and cash-strapped. But after today he could cut back rodeos and concentrate on building his horse-breeding business. The ranch, situated well off any beaten path, was a secluded spot where he and his twin brother were third-generation McNabbs born and raised there. Not that Ryder cared, although maybe someday he’d change his mind. Championships meant far more to him than they ever had to Rio.

Having traveled across the States since junior rodeos, he’d be glad to get off the road. Several years ago his parents had sold all of their cattle to happily retire at a senior living complex in San Antonio. At the moment they were on their dream vacation in Australia.

Bronc riding had been good to him, though. A win today would be a fine way to go out, plus give him more than enough funds to buy a palomino mare he’d had his eye on for a while.

All at once he heard a commotion in the chute. The bronc he’d drawn to ride today, Diablo Colorado, Spanish for Red Devil, was new to the circuit. Rio had given him a cursory inspection earlier and noted the horse was a big, powerful sorrel gelding. Rio guessed the animal was living up to his name based on the difficulty handlers were having getting him into the chute.

“Don’t envy you this one,” Colton Brooks called down to Rio.

He smiled and acknowledged the warning, although feisty horses weren’t anything new to him. Over the years he’d suffered his share of hard knocks, bruises and even a few broken bones. Probably another reason at thirty-two to hang up his spurs and leave serious competition to the young dudes. Unlike his brother, a hypercompetitive bull rider who reveled in piling up points in his sport to be acclaimed in the professional standings, Rio had been content to seek out smaller venues with fair winnings. Rather than sticking with the PRCA, he figured after today to keep his hand in by joining the RHAA. The Ranch Horse Association of America showcased skills of true cowboys. His twin scoffed at those events, and at the notion of ever returning to the homeplace Ryder called Hicksville Ranch. Thinking about that had Rio grimacing. He loved the Lonesome Road and would be happy to live there until he couldn’t climb aboard a horse anymore.

Tightening his gloves, he resettled his dove-gray Stetson before climbing up to join the handlers who’d finally gotten Diablo into the chute.

Rio sank onto the saddle, then vaulted out again as the horse bucked inside the enclosure and wildly tossed his head. Rio considered asking for a tie line to run from the bit to the cinch. A head-tosser could easily break a rider’s nose, or blacken his eyes. But hearing the crowd cheer and chant his name, and because he alone knew this was his goodbye ride, he decided to ride this devil and give the fans their money’s worth.

Gingerly taking his seat again, Rio wrapped the reins tight, slid his boots into the stirrups, raised his right arm and let out a rebel yell.

The gate slammed open. The sorrel bucked stiff-legged right in the opening. And instead of bolting or bucking into the larger arena, Diablo rose on his hind legs and without warning crashed over backward, crushing Rio between seven hundred fifty pounds of muscled horse and a well-built, steel-reinforced wooden fence that he felt crack around him.

Even as he tried to haul in a deep breath, Rio heard a collective “oh” roar from the crowd. There was a momentary cacophony of curses amid fast-shuffling booted feet, seconds before everything in his world went black.

The strident sound of sirens awakened Rio to the urgent shout of old Doc Kane, a much-appreciated rodeo doctor. Rio tried to ask a question, but pain battering him from all sides seemed to clamp a fist around his voice box.

Doc called for morphine, and before Rio could object he felt the sharp sting of a needle entering his thigh and he was lost in oblivion again.

* * *

RIO OPENED HIS EYES, but didn’t recognize anything around him. He felt weighted down in a sea of white. Odd beeps came from somewhere overhead. Two men, both blurs of ocean blue, bent over him. He tried to move to see around them, but couldn’t seem to do that. He felt his heart begin to pound as panic set in.

“Dr. Layton, he’s awake.” The figure at Rio’s left shined a bright penlight in each of his eyes.

Blinking, Rio attempted to sit up. A heavy hand pressed him down. Excruciating pain followed. Enough to have him gritting his teeth.

“Settle down, son. I’m Arthur Layton, chief of general surgery at City Hospital. This is Dr. Mason, our surgical resident. A horse fell on you at the rodeo. You’re not long out of surgery and still in pretty bad shape.”

“Is the horse okay?” Rio croaked. He began to remember bits and pieces, like seeing the chute open, feeling Diablo rear right before something went terribly wrong.

“You’re worried about the horse?” The surgery chief snorted. “Worry about yourself, Mr. McNabb. I’m afraid your rodeo days are over. You broke your clavicle, cracked two thoracic vertebrae we may still later need to stabilize. You have a fractured left wrist and badly sprained right ankle. Oh, and there was the pneumothorax we hope stays fixed.”

Surfacing through the pain, Rio licked dry lips. “A pneumo what? What is that?”

“Collapsed lung,” the resident supplied.

The older doctor unwound his stethoscope, listened to Rio’s chest, then typed on his computer. “We inserted a chest tube to reinflate your left lung. It still sounds good. We’ll keep a close eye on it, though. I’ve ordered pain meds as needed. With luck, by next week we can move you from ICU into a ward.”

“I can’t stay here,” Rio said. “I’ve gotta get to my ranch.” For one thing, he was seeing dollar signs for all this surgery stuff.

Dr. Layton’s voice gentled. “According to some of our nurses you’re famous. I know performing in the rodeos makes you tough, but I can’t release you until you’re able to get up and around. You don’t have a fractured skull, but you shook your brain.”

“Famous? Not me. They must mean my twin, the bull-riding champion.” Rio tried again to scoot up in bed, but yelped when pain gripped him.

Scrolling through Rio’s computer chart, Layton frowned. “I figured you’d have someone at your ranch to cook and clean. But I see the last time you were seen here for a concussion you signed yourself out against staff’s advice. This states you’re single. If that’s still the case, who’ll care for you at home?”

“I’ll take care of myself,” Rio growled. “Health insurance companies don’t like guys in my line of work. Paying my bills depends on me getting home to help my only ranch hand ready our colts and fillies to sell.”

The doctor shook his head. “Sorry,” he said, closing out the document and tapping the hand Rio didn’t have in a cast. “You’re in serious shape, son. My best estimate is you’ll be six months recovering to a point where you can take care of your ranch. From here you’ll go to a rehabilitation facility where you’ll have therapy to regain strength.”

Rio tried to shake his head but was stopped by the tight neck collar. Clenching his jaw, he said, “No. Rehab isn’t an option. Where’s my cell phone? I need to call JJ, my ranch hand, to collect my pickup and camper from the rodeo grounds. I left my dog, Tag, in the unit while I went off to ride. JJ can look after our horses, but running the ranch is my responsibility.” He managed to gesture with the hand not in a cast, but discovered that arm was tangled up with IV lines.

“I don’t think you get it, McNabb. For a while you’re going to require assistance getting in and out of bed, to and from the toilet and shower, and fixing food. Maybe Lola Vickers can come out of retirement to take on a private duty nursing assignment,” the doctor mused aloud.

The resident interrupted. “This morning I noticed Binney Taylor on the ER roster. Must mean she finished her private duty job for Bob Foster’s wife.”

“Binney would see he keeps his braces and casts from getting wet. I suppose she can cook or she wouldn’t have lasted caring for Raenell Foster. Is Binney strong enough to keep this guy from falling and taking her down with him? It’ll be some time before he regains good balance. I still say rehab’s the best place for him.”

Rio scowled. “I’m not going to any damned rehab. You’re saying I could get a nurse to come out to the ranch?”

“Yes. A private duty nurse boards on-site for a set amount of time. Not cheap, but may be less expensive than the cost of being in rehab. A home nurse can handle initial physical therapy and see that you get to follow-up appointments here.”

The resident went to a cabinet, opened a drawer and pulled out a business card he passed to the surgeon. “You could give Binney a call and see if she’s available.”

Layton took out his phone. He punched in a number then handed Rio the card. “Binney, Dr. Layton at City General,” he said into the phone. “Steve Mason tells me you’ve ended your assignment at the Foster ranch.” He listened a moment. “Uh-huh. Well, I’ve a possible new client. A local rodeo cowboy who’s been banged up pretty bad.” Grimacing, the doctor said plainly enough, “Rio McNabb has a stubborn streak a mile wide. I’ve no doubt he’ll be a handful. Before you agree to take the job I recommend dropping by ICU to talk with him. I know Lola swore she’s retired for good, but possibly you can twist her arm to take this one. She’d give back any guff she’s handed.” He listened again. “Okay, I’ll tell him.”

Layton clicked off his phone. “She heard about your accident on the news. Apparently you two went to high school together. Today she works a three-to-eleven shift in our ER, so can swing by around two. That way you can ask any questions you may have.” Finished speaking to Rio, the doctor waited until Rio said grouchily that he’d talk to the nurse, but added that he didn’t recall knowing her. “My ranch hand is older than me. He may know her. I’ll ask him as soon as I get my phone back.”

The two doctors stepped aside as a gray-haired nurse bustled into the room. “I have Mr. McNabb’s pain shot.”

Dr. Layton nodded, then said to Rio, “Either I or Dr. Mason will be back to check your breathing around supper time. This is Nurse Murphy. Do what she says. Say, Murph, Mr. McNabb wants his phone. Is it among his personal effects you’ve put somewhere?”

She went to a cabinet and took out a sack with a list stapled to the front. “Yes, we have his cell. I’ll let him make a call while I record his vitals. This pain med you ordered will send him nighty-night.”

Shrugging at each other the doctors left the room.

Rio took his phone and with some difficulty called JJ Montoya. “JJ, it’s Rio. I’m stuck in City Hospital. Will you ask Rhonda to take you to pick up my truck and camper from the rodeo grounds? I left Tag while I rode.”

“I’m ahead of you, Rio. Rhonda already drove me over there, and I brought your rig home.”

“You did? Is Tagalong okay?” Rio had been worried about the ginger-colored stray dog that had found him a couple of years ago in the Mesquite Rodeo parking lot. His vet had called the stray an Australian Labradoodle. To Rio the big mutt was simply a great companion on lonely treks between rodeos.

“Tag’s fine. How are you?”

“Docs say I’m pretty stove-up, JJ.” He listed the injuries Layton had named. “Say, will you check on the bronc that dumped me into the fence? His name’s Diablo Colorado. He’s from Weldon Walker’s rodeo string.”

“I ran into Colton Brooks. He said a vet checked the horse. He may have fared better than you. Only had a few scrapes.”

“I’m thankful he didn’t break a leg and have to be put down. Not that I envy the next rider who draws him,” Rio mumbled. “But this was his first rodeo. You know, JJ, I’d decided that ride would be my last in the PRCA. The surgeon says it’ll likely be my last bronc ride anywhere.”

“What do doctors know about cowboy grit? You’ve been banged up before and have healed fine.”

“I hope you’re right and he’s wrong.” He glanced up at the nurse who had finished recording his temperature and pulse. “Listen, there’s a nurse here with pain medication, and I’m starting to think I should take it. I’m, uh, not going to be able to help wean and train our young stock the rest of this year. We can talk about hiring you part-time help once I’m home.” The two men signed off and Rio let the phone fall to his side. That was when he realized he’d forgotten to ask if JJ knew a Binney Taylor.

“I’ll set the phone on your tray table,” Nurse Murphy said. After doing so she took the cap off a syringe, swabbed Rio’s upper arm and administered the drug.

“Don’t they have pain pills? I hate sh-shlots,” he muttered. But clearly his ability to speak was already compromised.

* * *

AT TWO O’CLOCK, after donning a sterile gown, booties and gloves, Binney Taylor entered the ICU room where Rio McNabb lay trussed up like a Christmas goose. She could hear the soft whiffle of a snore indicating her arrival hadn’t wakened him. And that was good. It gave her time to collect her thoughts at seeing him in person again.

In high school the popular and handsome McNabb twins were crushed on by every girl in school, including her. As someone who didn’t travel in their sphere, she’d been particularly drawn to Ryder McNabb and had loved him from afar. Then in her junior year, Ryder had asked her to the spring dance. Beyond thrilled she’d borrowed a nice dress and then spent money she didn’t have to spare on having her hair done. And she’d arranged for a night off from her after-school job. Ryder never showed up to collect her at the group home. Nor had he called. Later it’d been cruelly pointed out by mean girls at school that he’d taken Samantha Walker to the dance. He had never bothered to apologize, and the rejection lingered until she got to nursing school, where in time she’d learned to value her self-worth.

She hadn’t run into either twin since they graduated from high school the year before her. She knew they were both following the rodeo. As she gazed at Rio, she was transported back to a time when the very thought of administering care to either of the hot, popular twins would’ve left her feeling awkward. Now Rio McNabb was just another unlucky cowboy in need of nursing.

Binney opened his computer chart with her access card. Reading over the many injuries diagnosed in ER, her empathy for him grew. His recovery was going to be arduous. It was easy to see why Dr. Layton thought she might hesitate being stuck on such a remote ranch, forced to ride herd on someone the surgeon had indicated could be cantankerous. But she was well trained and good nurses handled all types of grumpy patients.

She closed out of his record, and glanced up to find the patient in question studying her with serious gray eyes.

“If you’re here to deliver another shot for pain, forget it. I don’t like how they knock me out. I can’t recover if all I do is sleep my life away. And tell that hospital advocate who came by to say I need to book an ambulance to take me home next Saturday, and rent a hospital bed for a month or so, that the wrangler who works for me will collect me in his pickup. No one’s gonna turn me into an invalid.”

“Actually, I’m not on your nursing team. Dr. Layton said he told you I’d drop by around two today so we could talk about your home care. I’m Binney Taylor, a private duty nurse. I see you don’t remember me. We attended the same high school. You and your brother graduated a year prior to me.”

“You’re a home nurse? You look so young,” he blurted. “Layton said we went to the same high school, but I assumed he meant you went there years before me.”

“I believe age is just a number. But if you have questions as to whether or not I’m competent,” she said testily, “I can provide you with references.”

“Sorry. I suppose you’re capable. High school was a long time ago for both of us. To be truthful, I don’t remember you.” He closed his eyes. “The shots they give me mess with my head. I wake up fuzzy. I don’t like it, not thinking clearly, I mean.”

Frankly it irritated her to hear so bluntly that she was totally forgettable, although it shouldn’t surprise her. Back then all kids who lived in the group home were made fun of by cliques of their popular peers. That didn’t mean she had to endure his slights now.

Taking out her cell phone, she phoned Lola Vickers, the former private duty nurse. “Hi, Lola, it’s Binney. Dr. Layton has a patient at City who’s going to need home care in a week or so. Can you take this job?”

“No. Arthur called me. I’m retired. My husband and I plan to travel. Why can’t they get that through their heads?”

“Oh, I didn’t know Dr. Layton had contacted you. Sorry.” She chewed the corner of her lower lip and eyed the man in the bed. “I know you turned the area over to me, Lola. I am free to take this assignment. It’s more that this patient wants a nurse with more experience. But I understand. Enjoy your trip. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

Rio glared. “Did I question your experience? I just don’t want anybody caring for me at my ranch.” He rubbed the furrows that’d formed between his eyebrows. “Can you cut me some slack? I feel like I’m navigating through fog.”

Binney reopened his record. “I see you are on a heavy-duty opioid. Are you aware that you sustained serious injuries? While you’re here you should let them do whatever they can to keep you pain-free. Really, though, I am happy to hear you’d rather not take painkillers. Once you get home and settled we can certainly start cutting back.” Jerking upright, she keyed out and guiltily met his searing gaze. “Uh, that’s providing you elect to hire me. I didn’t mean to be pushy. Dr. Layton called Lola Vickers, but she’s not available.”

“Do I need to decide right now? I’ve been tossed off horses before, and even been kicked in the head. After those docs patched me up I recuperated on my own at the ranch. Anyway, the Lonesome Road, my ranch, is well named. It’s two hundred acres in the middle of nowhere.” He gestured with his hand and once again the IV lines rattled. “Someone like you would get bored there before a day passed.”

She began backing toward the door. Seeing the shape he was in she probably shouldn’t take personally his reluctance to hire her. After she’d taken over from Lola as the only private duty nurse in the ranch community around Abilene, her jobs were mostly caring for ranchers or their wives following simple surgeries. There was Tom Parker, who’d been gored by a bull and gangrene had set in. Besides nursing she’d done their cooking so Tom’s wife could get their cattle to market. She could handle McNabb’s job.

To be honest she felt rattled over the possibility of working for the fancied McNabb brother. Someone who had matured and had definitely gotten more muscular. Even amid all his casts and bandages, and with the scruff of a five o’clock shadow, Rio McNabb was still handsome as sin. Had he become better looking than Ryder? The deeper question—was he nicer?

Quickly contemplating what it’d be like to share his home if it was as remote as he indicated, all while handling his most intimate needs, left her thinking this was probably a bad idea.

She was almost out the door when Rio called, “Hey. In high school, did you date my brother?”

The pain caused by that query even so many years later sent Binney spiraling in anger. But, loath to admit that his brother had stood her up, she stepped fully into the room again. “Are you kidding? I never garnered Ryder’s attention, although it wasn’t for the lack of my hoping to.”

Rio might have responded, but Nurse Murphy came into the room and stopped to greet Binney. “Hey, hello. How’s Raenell Foster? I heard you were taking care of her after her heart attack. What a shock. She’s my age, you know. And she was never an ounce overweight. Nothing like me,” the woman said, patting her ample girth.

“I completed my stint at the Fosters’.” Binney glanced at her watch. “In fact I’m filling a few shifts in ER until another outside job comes up. I’m working three to eleven tonight. Guess I’d better go grab the elevator to keep from clocking in late.” She dredged up a smile for Rio then peeled off the sterile gloves and gown she’d donned to enter ICU.

Gertrude Murphy shot a furtive glance between her patient and Binney. “Oh, so you two are friends.” She broke into a wide smile. “Or more than friends? I forget you younger nurses have lives outside of the hospital. If you two are dating, feel free to stop back anytime.”

Binney choked. “We’re not friends. Dr. Layton thought Mr. McNabb might have need of home nursing once he’s dismissed from here.” She wadded up her used gown. “He doesn’t think he’ll require home care.”

“Of course he will.” Gertrude made a face. “Wait’ll the morphine wears off and we try to get him up to see if he can manage crutches. The tougher these cowboys are, the harder they go down. You’d better keep in touch.”

“I’m not deaf,” Rio exclaimed, gray eyes thunderous. “And I don’t think I said for sure I wouldn’t need help, only that I didn’t want it. Dr. Layton or the resident said they’d be back to check me this evening. Earlier I wasn’t thinking straight. Now I have some definite questions for the doctor as to my prognosis. So, Binney...er, Nurse Taylor, keep in touch, okay?”

She felt a childish urge to stick her tongue out at him. Instead she inclined her head, and murmured to Gertrude, “The hospital has my phone number and ER schedule.” With that, she spun away, dumping everything in the trash receptacle situated right outside his room.

“It doesn’t sound as if you made a very good impression,” Gertrude chided, marching to Rio’s bedside.

He scowled all the way through her taking and logging in his vital signs. He practically growled when she pulled a syringe from the deep pocket of her uniform. “No more shots for pain.”

“Dr. Layton ordered a shot every three hours through tomorrow. Then he’ll reevaluate.”

“The stuff you give me knocks me out cold.”

She grinned. “That’s the point. Sleep facilitates healing. Come on. Don’t make me call in an orderly to hold you down.”

Rio noticed pain had begun to seep back. “Is there a reason I need to sleep sitting up?”

“You had a collapsed lung. You don’t want it deflating. I expect if all sounds good later, your surgeon will give us leeway to adjust the head of your bed. Between a tightly taped clavicle, a neck brace and recovering from a pneumothorax, sleeping reclined for the time being is preferable. Has anyone suggested you order a hospital bed to use at home?”

“Yes.” His scowl deepened.

“So is that what you and Binney were fussing at each other about?”

“Were we fussing?” Rio didn’t care to tell a friend of Nurse Taylor’s that his irritation at the younger nurse centered on the fact she’d all but admitted to lusting after Ryder. Not that he wasn’t used to women flocking around his more flamboyant twin, like bees buzzing over a flowerpot. He wondered when it had started bothering him so much. Possibly when he heard admiration for his twin falling from the kissable lips of the attractive blonde nurse with the striking green eyes. Those eyes were memorable, and yet he couldn’t place her. Damn!

Since his head had cleared a little, he searched his memory bank back to high school. It annoyed Rio that he continued to draw a blank when it came to Binney Taylor. He could phone Ryder on the PBR circuit and run her name by him. Given their last falling out, he quashed that thought. JJ was a bit older, but he might remember Binney Taylor. Or his fiancée, Rhonda, who’d also attended their high school.

Why did any of this matter? Why waste time worrying about the past when he didn’t even want to hire a private duty nurse?

In spite of telling himself that, Rio was beset by a longing to see her again. As he tried to sort through why that was, Nurse Murphy popped him with the needle she brandished, and in seconds Rio slipped out of the real world again.


Chapter Two (#u9cf95bf5-670c-511e-8cb2-343c49af3220)

A bright light blinding Rio in one eye ejected him from a dark stupor. He tried to move his head to get away from the light, but was hamstrung by an immovable plastic collar he vaguely remembered someone clamping around his neck. His opposite wrist and ankle hurt like the devil when he moved either one, so he lay still until he could get his bearings.

“You are still alive,” Dr. Layton said, shutting off the penlight as he continued to loom above Rio.

Devoid of words, Rio simply blinked. Ever so slowly his thoughts coalesced with his body. “Barely alive,” he finally got out.

“Did you insult one of our nurses?” Layton pulled up a stool and sat next to Rio’s upper torso. He unhooked his stethoscope and plugged in one ear tip, all the while checking Rio’s pulse.

“If I did it’s probably because you’re doping me up like some street junkie,” Rio managed to feebly say. “I don’t recall insulting Nurse Murphy. But I didn’t mince words objecting to that last pain shot. I can’t remember what happens after one of those.”

“So I’ve heard from a few staff members. Including from one who claimed she couldn’t wake you to eat the soup I ordered for your supper.” The doctor clamped in his other ear tip and slid the metal chest piece over Rio’s lungs and diaphragm. After he finished listening, he sat back and slung it around his neck. “Both lungs are getting good air. Any chest pain now will be from the vertebrae and clavicle. You’re lucky you have strong ribs. A broken rib on top of everything else would’ve added months to your recovery.”

“Lucky. Yeah, that’s me.” Rio wrinkled his nose and tried to scoot up in bed, but couldn’t get any traction between his hand being in a cast and his opposite ankle in an inflatable one that extended below his heel.

“We need to try and get you up. I’ll have our orthopedic man on staff drop by and see if the swelling in your ankle is down enough to exchange the temporary cast for an Ace wrap. That should give you some better mobility. How’s the rest of your pain?”

“Manageable, I think. I guess I don’t really know since I’m zoned out more than I’m awake. Out of curiosity, who did I insult? If I swore at one of the nurses, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing that bad. You apparently have issues with Nurse Taylor. Whatever transpired between you two gave her second thoughts about working for you. Since Lola Vickers opted out, you’d best get used to the idea of spending a few weeks at Baxter Rehab.” After typing on Rio’s chart, the doctor then clicked off the system and rose.

Rio’s main issue with Binney Taylor was that she looked like a model, and in her own words once, and maybe still, harbored a desire for his brother. But were either of those things reasons for him to dismiss her services? Hell’s sake, he didn’t want to spend weeks away from his ranch.

“To tell you the truth, Doc, my conversation with Nurse Taylor isn’t totally clear. Could you apologize for me and ask her to come back to talk again?”

“I can do that.” Layton glanced at his watch. “In fact, she’s due to clock out of ER in a few minutes. I want someone to get you up to see if you can stand with crutches, and with help walk a few steps. The night duty nurse will check your vital signs, but if Binney’s available, let’s see if she can assist you out of bed. We’ll be more inclined to release you to go home if the two of you manage walking. Provided she’ll take you on as a private patient.”

The doctor talked so fast Rio had difficulty processing everything. Enough registered for him to know he needed to be on his best behavior with Nurse Taylor. Really he just needed to satisfy Dr. Layton. Once he got home what would hold him to keeping a private duty nurse? Couldn’t he tell her he no longer required her help? What was most important was for him to go home, where, even if he was housebound, he’d be there to confer with JJ and do the ranch bookkeeping and such.

A nurse Rio didn’t remember meeting bustled in to remove the inflatable cast and rebandage his ankle. Her badge said her name was Janet Valenzuela. In the course of their short conversation she revealed that she knew JJ and Rhonda. “I watched you ride in last year’s Abilene rodeo,” she said as she attached the clips to hold Rio’s Ace bandage in place. “My son and a friend do team roping.”

“Would that be Carlos? If so, I know him. He and his partner are moving up in PRCA standings. Even before the accident this was going to be my last circuit ride. I did think I’d sometimes enter ranch rodeos.” He tried to move his newly taped ankle. Pain shot up his leg and made him catch his breath. “Plainly that won’t be for a while,” he said through compressed lips.

About that time Dr. Layton walked back into the room accompanied by Binney Taylor. They both heard his last exchange.

“Working here the last fifteen years I’ve met a lot of you stubborn rancher and rodeo types,” the doctor said. “I’ve seen a few who don’t take my professional medical advice end up in the obit column of the local paper. You can be one of them, Rio, or you can follow my orders and be content raising and selling horses. Barring being caught in a tornado, you could live happily into old age.”

Rio caught Binney and Janet both wincing at the doctor’s blunt statement. Because his previously addled brain was beginning to connect to the truth of his situation, Rio thought he could accept Dr. Layton’s advice. “Some rodeo jocks don’t have options. I’m lucky to have the ranch as a fallback.” Rio mustered a smile. “Earlier I may have sounded like a blockhead. I understand my life has drastically changed. Truly I’m not like some guys who see rodeo as their whole life. I have a twin like that,” he added, his gaze boring into Binney as he spoke.

“You act as if that’s significant to me,” she replied. “Until today I hadn’t seen you or Ryder since the night of your high school graduation, when, as a junior, I helped set out snacks. You both went on the all-night party. I worked two jobs all through high school. That’s how I paid for nursing school. Which reminds me,” she said, handing him a manila folder, “as I’m the only private duty nurse currently in the area, here’s a copy of my nursing diploma and recommendations from nursing professors. The hospital HR had them on file. If you’d like I can get references from my private duty jobs over the past two years.”

“We’re wasting time,” Dr. Layton said. “I’m vouching for you, Binney. This guy has two choices, go to Baxter Rehab or hire you. Without further ado, can you ladies help our patient out of bed? Janet, I ordered crutches for him. Will you see if they were delivered to the nursing station?”

Acknowledging the doctor with a nod, the older nurse hurried from the room.

* * *

RESOLVING TO MAKE this work for Rio’s sake, Binney slid her arm behind his back to give him support so he could ease his injured torso off the pillows. When her hand accidentally burrowed between his loosely tied hospital gown and the naked flesh of his muscular back, she and Rio both sucked in shocked breaths.

“Sorry about my cold hand,” she hastily mumbled. “My bad. But someone needs to tie your gown tighter. It’s only loosely done up at the top.”

Having quickly jerked back fingers that still tingled from touching him, Binney made sure to have cotton fabric between her hand and Rio’s smooth, warm back during the next attempt to sit him up. Her reaction made no sense. She was, after all, trained to see bodies as machines. In all her seven years as a registered nurse caring for young, old and in-between men and women of all shapes and sizes, she didn’t remember ever having experienced such an immediate visceral reaction to simply touching anyone’s skin.

A nursing aide entered the room carrying a set of adjustable crutches. “Janet got called to a patient having problems in another room. She said she may be a while.”

The surgeon huffed out an irritated sigh. “I could help you, Binney. But the object is to see if you can get him out of bed.”

“I’ll manage. Are the crutches set for someone Rio’s height?”

Dr. Layton took them from the aide, who quickly retreated. “I’m six-one and he’s about the same. These would work for me. Just see if you can help him stand, Binney. I’ll save ordering him trying to walk until tomorrow.”

Not in the habit of arguing with attending physicians, nevertheless Binney knew it would be a disappointment for Rio to have walking put off. He’d made plain earlier how he resented feeling like an invalid.

Lowering her voice, but speaking directly to him, she said, “This will be awkward considering you have injuries to both sides of your body. Might I suggest you try using one crutch? The one opposite your usable foot. Let me act as the stabilizer for your right side. I can keep you upright and guide the portable infusion hanger, while you sort of hop along on your good leg.”

“That’s risky,” the doctor said. “He must outweigh you by fifty pounds, and could bowl you right over.”

“I’m five-eight and stronger than I look.” Binney smiled encouragingly at Rio.

“All right. I’ll be here this time to catch any slip.” Dr. Layton walked over and passed Rio one crutch.

“Dang. The cast makes it hard to grip the handhold,” Rio muttered. “Are you sure you want to try bearing my weight?” he asked Binney, who’d settled his right arm over her shoulder, and this time had her arm firmly around his waist as she slid him to the edge of the bed.

“Trust me,” she murmured near his ear.

* * *

TOTALLY CAUGHT OFF guard by the force of tremors running from his toes to his head as he experienced her touch and warm breath at his ear, Rio tested his uninjured foot on the floor and stood. Determined he could do this, he nevertheless needed a moment to get used to the feel of Binney’s soft breast and other womanly curves pressed tight into his side and hip.

“I’ve got you,” she said in a sure voice from somewhere in the vicinity of his chin. “I know you want to use the bathroom. It’s about twenty steps to get you there. Are you game to try?”

Rio felt cool air from the room’s A/C blow across his exposed backside. His hankering to use the facilities warred with an ingrained manly pride that said it was wrong to show off his naked butt. He certainly didn’t pretend to be holier than the Pope, but neither was he in the habit of displaying his man parts to a woman he didn’t know.

“Is this enough for today?” Binney queried quietly. “I’ll help you back into bed and you can try again tomorrow.”

“No,” he grated. “When I get to the bathroom you don’t have to stay with me, do you?”

“I do until you can navigate better on your own and not require help getting up off the commode, Rio. Earlier you mentioned at least one older injury. Did all modesty not go out the window then?”

“Even when I had the concussion I walked on my own. So, no, I handled everything I needed to do in privacy.” Sucking in a deep breath, he took a tentative step forward.

“I’m glad to hear that solid breath,” Dr. Layton said from behind Rio. “That tells me your lungs are performing well. Tomorrow, Dr. Darnell, the orthopedic doctor I’ve asked to see you, wants an MRI on your neck. He’ll decide if you need cervical vertebrae four and five fused or not.”

Rio straightened swiftly, a movement that caused him to swear. “Uh, sorry. I don’t like the sounds of fusion. Will that mean I can’t turn my head?” His question came out in fits and spurts, because Binney gripped him tighter and they were inching toward the open bathroom door.

“That’s something you’ll have to ask Dr. Darnell.” Layton spoke over the sound of his pager going off. “Blast it all, I’m on call and ER is sending an auto accident victim to surgery. Binney, you seem to be holding up okay. Would you rather I help get Rio back to bed? I’ve already written orders to get him up in the morning.”

“It’s up to Rio. I’m good so far.”

Rio was close to choosing to return to bed rather than be left alone with Binney for such an intimate excursion, when Janet Valenzuela rushed back into the room.

“Land sakes! That looks painfully slow. Here, let me get on his other side. Ditch that crutch for now. I’ll support you so you can hop a little faster.”

“I’ll leave you in their capable hands,” Layton said, striding toward the door. “I will check you again on morning rounds. It’ll be after I consult with Dr. Darnell.”

Watching the surgeon dash out, Rio had no idea why he’d feel relieved to have a totally strange woman witnessing his humiliation. Possibly it had something to do with Janet being more the age of his mother. In fact he knew she had sons in their twenties. Maybe he could find a way to dismiss Binney without sounding ungrateful. Especially if, as it appeared, he was going to need to hire her for a while in order to leave the hospital. His fervent hope was that by then he could work the crutches enough on his own to not need help getting to the bathroom.

Between them, the nurses maneuvered their patient into the small bathroom. It so happened that Janet entered first. With her short but plump body and Rio’s six-foot-two-inch rangy frame filling the space, Binney was left unable to fit inside.

She disengaged her hold on Rio’s waist and slid her hand the length of his right arm so he could maintain balance as the older nurse helped him be seated.

“Here, I’ll close the pocket door to give you some privacy,” Binney murmured, backing fully out. “Holler when you’re ready for a return trek to bed. By the way, Janet, we noticed his gown needs tying farther down the back.” Her words were cut off as she shut the pair into the small space.

Rather than hover outside, Binney hurried back to straighten the rumpled bedsheets and fluff up Rio’s pillow. She’d unhinged the right bedrail to get him up. Now she checked the left one to make sure it was secured. The last thing he’d need would be to fall out of bed in the middle of the night. As it was she couldn’t help but think how tall and broad-shouldered he’d grown since she’d last seen him that evening in his cap and gown. She had thought about the McNabb twins over the ensuing years. Texas was big on rodeos and their accomplishments were often in the Abilene news. Rio and Ryder were homegrown boys who made names for themselves on the professional rodeo circuit. She assumed their rodeo accomplishments were a big part of who they were.

She gave the pillow a last thump, feeling sympathy for Rio, who in all likelihood was going to lose a career that had helped make him more popular. However, he’d been brought up having the fallback of a ranch, and he hadn’t sounded disgruntled.

As she responded to Janet’s call that they were ready for her again, Binney made a mental note to take a run out to said ranch tomorrow. What had Rio called it? Lonesome Road. The name didn’t denote a place rolling out a welcome mat.

“Thanks for your help,” Janet told Binney after they returned Rio to his bed.

“Yes, thank you,” he rushed to add. “Listen, the doctors gave me your business card, Binney. Now that I know I can navigate to and from the bathroom with a little support, I’ll probably check out of here next week. Depending on how I’m doing, if I need your services I’ll give you a jingle. Okay?”

The two nurses exchanged slight frowns. It was Janet who said, “The doctors may move you from ICU to a room next week. But did Dr. Layton or Dr. Mason not tell you that you won’t qualify for release home until you can get around with crutches all on your own?”

“They did. But we’ll see. I’ll recover faster at home,” he ended with a plainly dismissive note.

“A lot will depend on whether or not you need those vertebrae fused, Rio,” Binney reminded him.

He closed his eyes and didn’t respond.

Binney sighed. “Right! Okay, bye, guys. It’s late.” Shrugging, Binney left. She’d been here two hours past her ER shift. She had noticed they’d scheduled her the next day for the 11:00 p.m. to 3:00 a.m. slot again. While she appreciated having the ability to earn money between private duty nursing jobs, she sometimes wondered if it’d be better to go back to hospital duty altogether, where her hours would be more consistent.

* * *

THINKING HIMSELF ALONE again at last, Rio yawned. He opened his eyelids a crack when he felt fingers wrap around his right wrist.

It was Janet taking his pulse. “I can see you’re wiped out from the exertion of hobbling to the bathroom. I want to be sure we didn’t put a strain on your heart or lungs.” Dropping his wrist, she donned her stethoscope and had him breathe in and out normally.

“All sounds good.” She patted his hand and engaged the bed’s side rail. “Murph told me you hate the pain shots, but I have to give one. Doctor’s orders. He also wants you to eat some yogurt.” She brought a carton over and removed the lid. Arranging double pillows behind him, she handed him the container and a plastic spoon.

“I’d rather have a hamburger.” After saying this, Rio dug into the yogurt and ate it all in about four spoonfuls.

“You’ll be on soft foods awhile. At least until after they see if you need vertebrae surgery.” She whisked away the empty carton. “Okay, Rio. Sorry, but it’s shot time.”

“Tired as I am right now, just give it to me. I hope I’ll feel a whole lot better after a full night’s sleep.”

The nurse disposed of the container, logged on and wrote on his chart then went to a tray an aide had brought in. She picked up a preloaded syringe and checked that it was the right medication.

“Before you hit me with that, can you tell me a little bit about Binney?”

Janet eyed him quizzically. “What do you want to know? She’s an A-1 nurse. Everyone who has ever worked with her says so. Far as I know there’s not a person on staff who she doesn’t get along with. And she does more than what’s required. If you’re wanting gossip, I’ve never heard any.” She rubbed an alcohol wipe over his upper arm.

“She claims we went to the same high school. It bugs me that I can’t remember her.”

“I can’t help you there. About the time you two were in high school I was through nursing school and was probably long married. This will sting,” she warned, jabbing the short needle through his skin. “If you want my advice, you’d be smarter to hire Binney rather than spend a couple of weeks out at the rehab. There you’ll be one sheep in a flock, if you get my meaning. At home with one-on-one care—well, think about it, you’ll be the recipient of all the attention.”

Rio closed his eyes. He had been thinking about all that individual attention from the pretty nurse with the smooth hands and sparkling green eyes.

* * *

AFTER FINALLY LEAVING the hospital around 2:00 a.m. Binney only managed to sleep until ten o’clock in the morning. There were no calls or text messages on her cell phone. But had she really thought Rio McNabb would get in touch so soon asking to hire her?

Maybe she didn’t want to work for him, she thought in the middle of scrambling eggs for breakfast. The hospital would keep her busy until some other private duty job came up.

At the very least, supposing he did offer her a position, she ought to inspect his ranch first and judge for herself if it was more isolated than she cared to be cooped up on with a young, too-handsome cowboy.

Thank heavens for GPS, she thought an hour later when finally she turned her motorcycle onto a graveled ranch road that led to the Lonesome Road horse ranch. Binney wondered how her predecessor ever found her way around this rural community without one.

She slowed considerably as a flock of wild turkeys flapped across the road in front of her. The road wound through high desert brush, shaded along the way by gorgeous old live oak trees. A moment before the road opened up to a clearing, Binney spotted a white-tailed deer bounding through a thicket of mesquite and juniper.

As she stopped completely to take the measure of a stone ranch house that had a wide porch running clear across the front of the structure, a fuzzy-faced barking dog ran up to her. She bent to let him sniff her hand and then gave him a rub when he rolled over. She supposed someone was on the property caring for the animal. From reading his chart Binney knew Rio McNabb wasn’t married. But she hadn’t thought ahead to wonder if he had a live-in. A lot of cowboys did. And surely a man as handsome as Rio could have his pick of any number of rodeo followers. She refused to refer to them as buckle bunnies because that was so demeaning.

Continuing to pet the friendly dog, she eyed a windmill that told her the ranch was on a well. Two barns in the distance boasted new paint, as did split-rail fences that enclosed grassy pens where several beautiful golden horses grazed in late summer sunlight.

As she rose from where she had crouched to pet the dog, thinking to stroll over for a closer look at the horses, a man seated atop a long-legged horse appeared out of nowhere, bearing down on her.

He pulled the snorting horse to a standstill even as Binney scrambled out of its path. The dog barked louder, and ran circles around the dancing horse.

“Are you lost?” the rider asked. He removed his hat and she met the dark, curious gaze of a handsome man, probably a few years older than Rio.

“No. I came in search of the Lonesome Road Ranch. I’m Binney Taylor, the area’s visiting nurse. It’s not definite the ranch owner will request my nursing services when he’s released from the hospital. But since his surgeon recommended me and Mr. McNabb and I spoke about the possibility, I came out to get the lay of the land. I apologize if I interrupted your work.”

The man swung out of the saddle. “I’m JJ Montoya. I train horses for Rio, and look after the ranch whenever he’s away. I only spoke briefly to him yesterday. He was more concerned about the horse that injured him than he was about much else except making sure I collected his pickup, camper and Tagalong, here,” he added, indicating the dog that had gone to lie across Binney’s feet. “Tag doesn’t generally trust strangers. He seems to like you.”

Bending, Binney scratched the animal behind his floppy ears. “I’d love to have a dog or cat, but since my work out in the community often takes me away from my apartment for weeks at a time, I can’t have one.”

“How is Rio, really?” the man still holding the reins of the golden horse asked suddenly. “He didn’t sound his old self. But from the list of all he said was wrong with him, I frankly doubted he’d be home very soon.”

Dusting off her hands, Binney hiked a shoulder. “Sorry, I can’t discuss a patient’s condition. I do know he had more evaluations scheduled for this morning. You could phone him later and get an update. Uh, it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Montoya, but I won’t keep you. You may or may not see me again, depending on whether or not I become part of Mr. McNabb’s recovery team. However, let me say this is a beautiful ranch.”

Pausing, Binney let her gaze roam over the scenic valley. She pictured what it might have been like growing up here, and felt a twinge of regret she always felt when forced to remember how she’d never had a real home or family.

Waving goodbye, she called, “It definitely wouldn’t be a hardship to take an assignment here.” She left the property with a greater appreciation for Rio’s ranch than when she’d first turned off the main highway onto the lonely road.

* * *

RIO FINISHED HIS lunch of cream of tomato soup and custard, wishing again for something more substantial. But he was being promised more for supper. The orthopedic doctor had come to see him after the MRI. He said he thought the cracked vertebrae would heal by themselves if Rio minded his p’s and q’s and didn’t do anything to reinjure his neck. In fact, Darnell wrote an order to move him out of ICU into a two-bed ward later that afternoon. He planned to recheck Rio at the end of the following week, and said if nothing changed he’d discharge him, providing he use something called a TENS Unit, designed to promote faster bone repair. Darnell also said he’d have a tech order up a better-fitting neck collar.

All in all Rio was feeling pretty good. Especially since he’d also asked about cutting back the pain medication, and Dr. Darnell said they’d try less potent pills instead of shots.

His cell phone rang. Picking it up off his tray where the nurse had set it, Rio saw the call was from JJ.

“Hi, buddy. How goes everything at the ranch?”

“Funny, I’m calling to ask how it goes at the hospital.”

“Some better.” Rio launched into telling his ranch hand all he’d learned.

“So, you think you’ll get to come home next weekend? Then you’ve settled on hiring yourself a home nurse?”

“I haven’t decided. Why?”

“Well, now,” JJ drawled, “Binney Taylor came out to take a gander at the ranch. She’s some looker, boss. Tag liked her so much if she’d been a burglar he’d have invited her in and showed her the silverware.”

“Binney drove out to the ranch?”

“Drove isn’t the right term. Not only is the lady damned pretty, but she rides a Harley like a pro.”

“She what?”

“You got hearing problems? The gal showed up here astraddle of a big old hog. She won over your dog, who usually bares his teeth at strangers. Oh, and before she left she said you have a nice ranch and it wouldn’t be a hardship to work here.”

Someone came into his room and removed his lunch tray, but Rio didn’t acknowledge her. His brain had stalled out picturing the tall slender nurse with soft, soft hands and gorgeous eyes, riding a motorcycle. He then imagined her legs clamped around one of his horses. That image quickly morphed into one where, whole again, he reclined in his king bed, and those same long, luscious legs straddled his hips with just the right amount of pressure.

“Rio, you still there?” JJ whistled into the phone.

Barely managing to say “Yeah” in gruff tones, Rio reined in derelict visions he chalked up to pain and forced inactivity. “Listen, I’m gonna have to call you back later, JJ.” He hit disconnect and willed away the all-too-enjoyable snapshot lodged in his head.


Chapter Three (#u9cf95bf5-670c-511e-8cb2-343c49af3220)

Dr. Layton stopped by Rio’s hospital room and told him he’d turned over his care to the orthopedist. “My job as your surgeon is finished. Your lung remains inflated. All else are bone injuries that are Dr. Darnell’s field of expertise. I hear he’s moving you from ICU. He’ll be the one you’ll be fighting with about going into rehab.”

Rio screwed his lips to one side then said, “Since I’d rather recover at home I’m going to hire Nurse Taylor. Do you have any idea how long I may need her help? Or is that something I should ask Dr. Darnell?”

“Just judging from your initial injuries, I’d say you’ll need a month to six weeks to get you moving under your own power. Darnell can pinpoint that better after he sees follow-up X-rays of your broken wrist and clavicle.”

Layton turned to the computer and pulled up Rio’s chart. “I see he ordered a TENS Unit to help heal the vertebrae. That requires removing the cervical collar to sit with the electronic device on your neck for a specified time each day. Getting the collar off and on properly will take assistance. Frankly, I still don’t get what you have against going to rehab. They’re staffed for maximum therapies.”

Rio puffed out a disgusted sigh. “I like being in control of my life. Isn’t that true of everyone?”

“Yes, unless you’re sick or injured. I notice you listed your parents as next of kin. Can they help you at home?”

“If they weren’t on their dream trip to Australia they would be my go-to people. Worrier that my mom is, I hope they don’t hear of my accident. They’d cut their trip short. You may think I’m unreasonable. As a rule I’m not.”

“I see a lot of you cowboy types. Don’t blame me for thinking you all have more guts than sense. I do wish you luck.” The doctor closed out the computer, shook hands with Rio and then left the room.

Rio barely had time to gather his thoughts when the team scheduled to move him to a ward arrived. Two burly guys dressed in green scrubs transferred him, mattress and all, onto a gurney, while an aide gathered his personal belongings. She’d headed out when Rio called to her. “Did you pick up a business card for a private duty nurse?”

“I left it in the drawer. I heard Gertrude Murphy and Janet Valenzuela talking. I thought they said you weren’t going to hire...uh, never mind. I’ll grab the card.” She turned back and slipped past the gurney.

Rio would have liked to know what he’d said to give the ICU nurses the impression he wasn’t going to hire Binney. If word got back to her, she might take another job. He thought he’d been clear to everyone about wanting to recuperate at home, but weigh his options. As soon as he got settled in a ward he’d phone her and ask about her fees.

He did just that as soon as the transfer team left.

Binney sounded surprised to hear from him. “I charge the going daily rate for in-home nursing care unless I do household chores. There’s a greater daily charge if I do cooking, laundry or other housework.” She named both amounts.

“Which one includes taking care of a pet? I know you went out to my ranch and met my dog. JJ said you and Tag hit it off. I’m sure he was mistreated before I found him. He’s not usually trusting of strangers, so you’re an exception.”

“I hate hearing he may have been mistreated. Goodness, he seemed such a loving dog. Care for him would be included in either rate.” She paused then added, “Mr. Montoya was nice. What I viewed of your ranch was lovely. I hope you aren’t annoyed that I went to check it over. It’s something I do if the opportunity presents itself before I decide to take a job.”

“Has a preview caused you to turn any job down?”

“Once. The old guy raised goats and lived in a one-room shack back in the hills. He had pneumonia and needed care, but a requirement of mine is to have my own bedroom. I never asked the size of your home. Wait...didn’t you indicate it’s where you grew up, so it’d be a family home layout, right?”

“It is. You’d have a bedroom. I bought the ranch from my folks. They wanted to retire to San Antonio. At the moment they’re on a trip out of the country. What about you? Does your family still live in Abilene?”

“I live there. I rent an efficiency apartment downtown. Tell you what, Rio. My contract spells everything out. I work a late-late shift in ER tonight. It’ll be past visiting hours when I get to the hospital. But I’ll leave a copy at the unit desk and tomorrow you can ask a nurse to bring it in for you to read over. I want you to be satisfied.”

“We both need to be satisfied.” Rio couldn’t help flashing back to his earlier thoughts of the two of them in his big bed. Shoot, not only wasn’t he in any shape for monkey business, keeping hands off was probably listed in her contract. “So you know, I’d require some cooking and other stuff. I hope if Dr. Darnell sees I have home care, he’ll release me quicker.”

“Murph told me two things you balked at were renting a hospital bed and going home by ambulance. Both are most apt to impress Dr. Darnell.”

Rio grunted, then said, “I’ll see. So, we’ll touch base soon?”

“Roger that.”

Noting that she’d disconnected, Rio set his phone on the tray table. He tried to find a comfortable position as he closed his eyes and pictured all five foot eight inches of Nurse Taylor.

He woke up, not knowing how much time had passed, to a high-pitched feminine voice exclaiming, “Eew, Sugar Bear! You look awful. How do you feel?”

He smelled Traci Walker’s signature perfume before she came close enough to identify. He failed to escape before she bent and brushed a damp kiss on his lips. “Just what I want to hear, how bad I look, Traci. As to how I feel, I’ve been better.”

She straightened away. “Daddy and Mama told me about your accident. I just got home last night from visiting Samantha in the Big Apple. We saw Ryder ride in Madison Square Garden.” She pouted, a sulky face Rio knew she’d long perfected as they’d grown up together and had even dated a few times.

She continued discussing her trip. “We tried talking Ryder into hitting a few nightclubs with us. He’s so focused on amassing points, he told Sammi he had to ride the next morning. You know she used to always wrap him around her finger. Ryder’s changed. But we snagged Ben Jarvis and still danced the night away.” Traci spun away from the bed and peered around, wrinkling her nose. “So when can you leave this horrid, smelly place?”

Rio managed a brief inspection of her expression of distaste. She hadn’t changed since she’d unexpectedly popped in to see him at the Fort Worth rodeo in the spring and tried to steamroll him into renewing their long-dead relationship. Her daddy, Weldon Walker, owned the biggest ranch around Abilene. He was a leading patron of the PRCA. Traci, a six-time rodeo queen, dabbled in charity work with her mom. It surprised Rio to hear that his brother had skipped going out with her sister, a New York model. In high school Ryder had dated Samantha longer than he’d stuck with any girl.

“Before I check out I need to hire nursing care and the services of a chief cook and bottle washer at the ranch,” Rio said. “Any chance you’re in the mood to volunteer?” he asked in jest, knowing her family had always employed a cook themselves.

True to his expectations, she rolled her eyes. “I might lend a hand if you didn’t live in the sticks. You need to sell and buy a ranch closer to town. You and I could be good together if you didn’t bury yourself miles from civilization. I need to be near town, because Daddy’s buying me a boutique.”

“What do you mean, we could be good together?”

She wiggled her ring finger. “Daddy says it’s time you pop the question and we get married, Sugar Bear.”

“What?” Rio knew he was guilty of gaping.

“You’re so stubborn, but I can wear you down.”

“Don’t count on it. You’re a partier and I like solitude. And I’ll never sell the Lonesome Road. Raising horses out there is all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

“How can you say that when you’ve been on the rodeo circuit for years? Daddy said Abilene might be your last rodeo, though. I predict you’ll get bored soon enough. Oh, but starting tomorrow I’m helping Mama arrange the country club’s harvest ball. Heavens, Sugar Bear, can you even get out of bed? From my observation you’ll need more help than anyone I know can give. Maybe Lola Vickers. Shall I have Mama call her?”

“Lola’s retired.” Suddenly recalling how tight the area ranch teens used to be, he blurted, “Do you remember Binney Taylor from high school?”

Traci assumed an annoyed expression. “Why ever would you ask about her? Surely you know she got her name because she was left on the doorstep at the orphanage in one of those green vegetable trash bins. Iona Taylor found her. She assigned the little nobody her last name. Mama said Binney lived in different foster homes, but she never fit in and never got along. By high school they sent her to a group home run by Catholic nuns.”

Traci’s diatribe left a sour taste in Rio’s mouth. “Well, she’s a registered nurse now. Sometimes she works here, but also does private nursing jobs. I plan to hire her.”

Traci swiveled her head around as if searching for the woman they were discussing. “Land sakes. You can’t get mixed up with the likes of her. Mama would bar you from the country club. And what would your folks say? Binney Taylor’s not like us. Why, nobody knows her roots.”

Disliking the turn of this conversation, Rio couldn’t have been happier when a ward nurse came in, interrupting Traci’s rant about Binney.

“Visiting hours are over,” the nurse announced. “It’s time for Mr. McNabb’s meds. You’ll have to come back later this evening, or tomorrow.”

At first Rio thought Traci would throw her wealthy weight around and refuse to go. As it was she merely tightened her grip on her designer purse and said, “I only had a few minutes to spare on my way to a mani-pedi appointment anyway. I’ll call you, Sugar Bear. If you’re up and around in time for the Harvest Ball the first of October, I’ll arrange a ticket. I’ll even drive out to the boonies and pick you up.”

Rio laughed. “Have you really looked closely at me, Traci? I won’t be doin’ any boot scootin’ boogying by October. Oh, tell your dad I’m glad his horse is okay even if Diablo Colorado did his best to kill us both in the arena.”

She paused at the door. “Don’t you forget how important Daddy is in the rodeo/ranching community. He could help you build your horse trade if you don’t do something foolish like let a person in your home that Lord only knows her background.” She blew Rio a kiss and swept from the room on her red spiked heels.

The nurse stared for a moment at the empty doorway then set a small cup of pills on Rio’s tray table. She poured him a glass of water from an icy pitcher. “Our ward has strict rules for visitation. We sometimes make allowances for relatives,” she said pointedly, again eyeing the door.

“She’s not a relative.” It was all Rio could do to hide a smile when the nurse appeared relieved. “What are these for?” he asked when the woman, whose name tag read Suzette Ferris RN, dumped three pills into his hand.

“One is an antibiotic. I’m about to unhook your IV. The other two are painkillers. Dr. Darnell replaced the shots you were receiving. If these keep your pain at bay, he’ll likely order them for a couple of weeks. Be sure to tell us if they aren’t strong enough. I heard you’d rather be off everything, but truthfully, hurting isn’t good.”

“Are they addictive?”

“They could be if you were on them for an extended period of time. Our physicians are careful about that.”

Popping all three pills in his mouth, Rio swallowed them down with one gulp from the glass. He took the spoon and container of custard she’d opened. “How long before I can have real food?”

“If by real food you mean steak, probably not until it’s easier for you to get up and around.”

“Not necessarily steak, but even a sandwich. If all I get is baby food, won’t that delay how soon I have the strength to get up and around?”

There was a rustling at the door and Rio raised his head, fearing Traci had returned. But Binney Taylor walked in. She wore jeans, boots and a plaid blouse. Her small waist was circled by a two-inch-wide leather belt. Her smile stretched from ear to ear. For the first time Rio noticed a smattering of appealing freckles on her creamy cheeks. He found it difficult to swallow.

“Is he giving you a hard time, Suzette? Knock it off, McNabb. She’s one of the best darned nurses on this ward.”

Nurse Ferris rushed to hug Binney. “Look who’s talking. If you’re a friend of this guy, you’re far superior to his last visitor,” she said, lowering her voice.

Appearing a tad confused, Binney waved an envelope. “I’m bringing Rio one of my private duty contracts to go over. I intended to drop it at the ward desk since I’m working the late shift in ER. But I got a call from Mabel in administration. She said if I’m slated to accompany Rio home, Dr. Darnell may release him soon. He needs time to decide between my services or going to Baxter Rehab.”

Suzette wrinkled her nose. “No contest to my way of thinking. Especially as he’s bugging me for real food.” She made quote marks in the air when she said real. Facing Rio, she added, “When Binney worked here full-time she often brought casseroles to our lunch room. All of the nurses fought to see who’d get there first.”

Her pager went off. Excusing herself, she air-kissed Binney and dashed from the room.

Binney covered the distance to the bed, set the envelope on Rio’s tray table and relieved him of the empty custard container he still held. She stepped on the lever to open the waste container, then stopped. “Are they monitoring what you eat and excrete?”

“What? I’m not getting enough food to excrete anything,” he said, turning red.

“They’ll give you something more substantial tomorrow. You have to prove your intestines work well before you can go home, you know.”

His eyebrows dived together. “I actually don’t know. I was only in a hospital ER last time I was thrown from a horse.” He tried casting his eyes elsewhere, but he was hampered by the cervical collar.

“I told you modesty flies out the window when you’re dealing with extensive injuries. If you turn red as a tomato whenever it’s time to shower, get a lotion rubdown or at other pertinent times, it’s pointless for us to try to work together.”

He studied her for a long moment. “It’ll be hard for me to put aside long-held proprieties, but I want to hire you.” He hurriedly added, “I’ll sign the contract now.”

“But you haven’t read it,” Binney said.

“With all the recommendations you’ve had from staff here, I shouldn’t have waited this long. Do you have a pen?” He didn’t say there was someone who hadn’t recommended her. But Traci Walker’s comments were one reason he wanted to sign on the dotted line and show folks like Traci and her family that not every area rancher gave a damn about their view of someone’s roots.




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