“And he keeps the book on that account at the nursing home?”
“Yes, he writes checks from that account. He’s not sixty-five yet, so Medicare hasn’t kicked in for him. He has to pay the nursing home five thousand dollars every month. He’ll give me a check and have me write it out in front of him so he can give it to the manager of the place. And thank God, he’s got that stash, Reese.” Shay grimaced. “I couldn’t raise that kind of money.”
“It’s a lot of money,” Reese agreed.
“I’m so thankful I don’t have to take care of him here at the ranch,” she admitted hollowly, giving him a glance filled with guilt.
“You seemed upset after seeing him the other day,” Reese said quietly, watching her expression.
“We don’t have a good relationship. Never did,” she said, shrugging. “I wish it were different, but not all families are happily-ever-after ones. Ours was one of the dark ones.”
Reaching out, Reese slipped his hand over hers and squeezed it gently and then released it. “You’ve got a lot on your plate, Shay.”
“I know . . .” Her hand tingled where his calloused fingers brushed across her palm. Shay felt her heart leap. Felt that yearning for Reese to touch her. He made her so hotly aware of herself as a woman. It was disconcerting, nice, and frustrating. Shay realized he’d reached out to comfort her. Nothing else. But looking into his shadowed green eyes, Shay swore she could see desire in their depths. For her. The thought was heated. Provocative. Off-limits.
“Tomorrow morning, I’m riding the south fence line,” she said. “Garret will start repairing the northern section, and I need to get out and inspect in the south part of the ranch. Would you like to ride along?”
“Yes. Want to repair as we go?”
She nodded. “We have to. I could use a second pair of hands. Repairing barbed wire alone is tough. Another pair of hands always makes it easier and it goes faster.”
“Are you going to assign me a horse?”
“We have four quarter horses. All geldings. Just take your pick. I’m going to start riding at 0900.”
He smiled a little. “Hard to let go of that military speak, isn’t it?”
Shay grinned. “Yeah, it is, but I love using it. It’s easier to fall into old habits.”
Reese finished off his tea. “It’s not a bad habit to keep,” he murmured. Rising, he took his cup over to the sink and rinsed it out, placing it on the dish drainer. “I’m going to try to get some sleep now. Thanks for the tea, Shay.”
“Anytime. Good night,” she murmured, watching him move like a soundless shadow. When Reese left the kitchen, it felt as if the warmth within the room left with him. Shay sat there trying to understand why he affected her so strongly. He was respectful toward her, comforted her when she needed it. Her hand tingled, and Shay could still feel the roughness of his hand briefly around hers. Something told her Reese would be a considerate lover. A man who gave as much as he took. Frowning, Shay wanted to ask Reese so many deeply personal questions, but she refrained. They were still getting to know one another. He’d opened up to her a lot tonight, and she to him. Shay was breaking one of her cardinal rules about not discussing her personal concerns with the healing vets. These men had enough to process and deal with. They didn’t need her issues too, but Reese kept asking her more and more personal questions.
Why? Unsure, Shay sipped the last of her tea and pushed the chair away from the table, rising. She heard Reese’s bedroom door quietly shut down the hall. Max got up and followed her, alert, near her side as she stood at the kitchen sink. Petting her dog’s golden head, she murmured, “What do you make of him, Max?”
Max wagged his tail slowly, watching her.
“You like him. You’re biased, big guy. Come on,” Shay urged. “Time to go to bed.” And as she shut off the stove light and whispered down the hall in her frayed red slippers, Max obediently followed her.
*
The air was brisk and chilly as Reese rode at Shay’s side the next morning. Max trailed them, stopping to sniff a good smell every once in a while. Most of the early May snow had melted, just a few patches to be seen here and there in the pasture. The sunlight was shining brightly on the snow-capped Salt River Mountains to the east of the ranch. It was a beautiful sight, the sky a lapis lazuli color, the cries of a blue jay breaking the companionable silence as they rode side by side. Reese wore his heavy jacket, Stetson, and a pair of thick elkskin work gloves, and his saddle bags were filled with the tools they’d need for repairing fence line.