stayed.
Her uncle Vince was a younger, slightly mellower version of her father. Both men were dedicated to their families, friends and neighbors. But just like whenever her father looked at her, Theresa could sense the concern behind her uncle’s dark gaze. At least the older men in her family were the type to worry in silence. Not so much with her mother—or her aunt.
Vanessa had hovered over Theresa during the entire visit. How was she feeling? Was she sleeping all right? Did she have enough to eat? Was she keeping up with her exercises every day? Was she pushing herself too hard?
All that was bad enough. Worse were the questions she couldn’t answer.
“What are your plans for when you go back to work? Your mother says you have an opportunity to go back to school for a career in hospital administration. Do you think you’ll start classes soon?”
Following the accident, Theresa had been put on medical leave. That time would be up soon, and although she would be able to get an extension, she wondered what would be the point. Would a few more weeks make a big enough difference for her to be back to normal?
She shut off the blow-dryer and ran a brush through her hair. She caught the thick mass to one side and automatically reached up to start a simple braid, but the dark strands slid through the stiff fingers of her left hand. Sucking in a deep breath, she tried again. And again, and again.
She’d learned to braid her hair when she was seven years old and now—
Frustration tightened her body, and she clenched her jaw to hold back the urge to swear, to scream, to cry. Normal? Yeah, she didn’t think so, and clearly her mother didn’t, either.
Tossing her hairbrush back into the vanity drawer with more force than necessary, she left her hair loose around her shoulders and stepped into the bedroom to finish dressing.
Donna Pirelli had never been thrilled with her only daughter’s career choice. Oh, she was proud that Theresa was a nurse, but she’d never liked the idea of Theresa working the long shifts in a downtown St. Louis hospital. The atmosphere in the emergency room was undeniably stressful, with people brought in after car accidents or medical emergencies like heart attacks or strokes. And then there were the other patients—victims of gunshot wounds or stabbings, not to mention drunks and drug addicts so out of their minds they were a danger to themselves—and to others.
So, yes, Theresa understood why her mother would prefer her to have a desk job dealing with policy and procedure rather than patients. And she told her aunt the same thing she always told her mother. “I’m still thinking about it.”
Thinking how much she hated the very idea.
And just like her mother, her aunt hadn’t been satisfied with that answer. Fortunately, her uncle had taken the hint and had reminded his wife that they needed to get back to town.
She’d felt both grateful and guilty when they left—an awkward combination of feelings she was almost getting used to when it came to her family. But while their leaving meant she didn’t have to answer any more questions about her future, it didn’t mean the questions went away. If anything, they only sounded louder in the small cabin’s overwhelming silence.
“I have got to get out of here,” she muttered as she sank onto the bed and shoved her feet into a pair of already-tied tennis shoes to go with her worn jeans and St. Louis Cardinals sweatshirt.
Jarrett had meant what he said when he told her the bedroom and bath weren’t fancy. The furnishings were obviously new—from the queen-size bed with its neutral beige comforter to the matching oak nightstand and build-it-yourself dresser. But the stark walls and emptiness of the place were driving her crazy.
He’d also kept his promise to leave her alone, making her apology impossible to give.
She carefully pushed off the bed. One wrong move could still send white-hot bolts of pain shooting up and down her left leg, and she held her breath as she waited for the pull and protest of the weakened muscles. Was it wishful thinking or was the tightness easing just a little? She’d been keeping up with her exercises within the bare walls of the cabin, but a walk would do even more good, she decided as she left the car keys on the kitchen counter and stepped onto the porch.
It had rained sometime during the night, the fresh scent lingering in the damp morning air. Clouds hovered over the peaks of the distant mountains. Drops of rainwater clung to the pines and sparkled in the filtered sunlight. Sophia was right about the gorgeous scenery, Theresa thought as she walked carefully along the muddy pathway. Jarrett Deeks had picked a prime spot for his business.
She had the sudden thought that his choice hadn’t been so much a professional one as a personal one. This land was the perfect place for him. A little rugged, a little wild...a little lonely.
A small shiver raced down Theresa’s spine even as she scolded herself for ascribing attributes to a man she didn’t even know. She was letting her imagination get away with her. She was used to dealing with men, from doctors to physical therapists to orderlies. Not to mention her three brothers. Granted, Jarrett didn’t fit into any of those molds, but that hardly mattered.
Cowboy or cardiac surgeon, Jarrett Deeks was still just a guy, she reminded herself as she followed a path that led toward the stables. An ordinary, average—
Her thoughts, her entire body, came to a stop as she caught sight of the cowboy astride a gray horse in the middle of the corral. Her heart stumbled in her chest as she watched him circle the animal one way and then the other. Horse and rider worked as one, every movement fluid, effortless...and breathtaking.
Her pulse picked up its pace as she watched, the beat echoing the thunder of the pounding hooves against the hard ground. For a split second, Theresa swore she could almost feel the warm horseflesh beneath her, the rush of speed and excitement, of the cold air making her cheeks sting and her eyes water. The connection of horse and rider...
Or was it something else she was feeling? Something more?
Theresa wasn’t sure when it happened, but she suddenly realized Jarrett knew she was watching. He did nothing to acknowledge her presence. Didn’t dip the brim of his hat, didn’t lift a gloved hand in a wave. All his concentration, his entire being, was focused on the horse. And yet there was this...awareness like an electrical current thrumming between them, drawing her closer despite the “Danger—High Voltage!” signs plastered all around.
He knew she was watching—and knew just what watching him was doing to her.
Theresa swallowed hard against a suddenly dry throat. She didn’t even remember moving—and since the accident, that was certainly saying something—but before long, her hands were braced on the cold metal railing circling the corral. Vibrations trembled along the crossbar as Jarrett galloped by, and Theresa again experienced the breathless sensation of riding alongside him.
Gradually, he slowed the pace, but the horse was still breathing heavily when he came to a stop in front of her. Beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, his cheeks were ruddy from the cold and wind, and his chest rose and fell from the exertion and exhilaration of the ride. Swinging a muscled leg over the horse’s broad back, he dropped to the ground. His stride was steady and sure, but Theresa felt her own legs go weak as he approached.
He didn’t stop until he’d braced his hands on either side of hers, and Theresa had the inane thought that a fence meant to hold half a ton of horseflesh couldn’t come close to containing a man like Jarrett Deeks.
