How to Lasso a Cowboy. Christine Wenger
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“He’s doing terrific,” Jenna said, handing Andy his napkin so he’d wipe his mouth. “He’s made a lot of progress already.”
“It’s bor-ring,” Andy said, resting his cheek on his palm. “Totally bor-ring.”
Dustin shrugged. “Well, maybe I could help,”
Andy nodded. “Cool, Uncle Dustin.”
It was very nice of him to volunteer to help Andy, but Jenna was a little put out. She was a teacher, for goodness’ sake—she could manage herself.
She tried to figure out something else to say. “How are your parents, Dustin? Tom told me that they like Alaska.”
“They love it. My father has taken up hunting again, and Mom has a nice circle of friends that she met at church.” He met her gaze. “I still miss your parents, Jenna. Your mom and dad were good to me.”
Jenna closed her eyes. She could still see the accident, although the police and Tom hadn’t let her approach the scene.
Damn that drunk driver.
She blinked back her tears. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss them, too.”
Dustin cleared his throat. “Well, if you’ll both excuse me, I think I need to rest a little. It’s been a long trip.”
“I’ll show you to the guest room,” Jenna said.
“I know where it is.”
Of course he did. He visited the ranch often.
“Do you need any help?” she asked.
“No.”
She frowned. “If you don’t need help, then why are you here?”
He raised an eyebrow. “To supervise the ranch operation.”
“You’re also here to rest and heal.”
Obviously, he wasn’t the type to be waited on, but if he refused to let anyone help him, then what was she supposed to do?
Jenna followed Dustin into the hallway that led to his room, so Andy wouldn’t overhear their discussion.
“Dustin?” she whispered.
He turned and raised an eyebrow.
“I can’t understand why you are refusing my help.”
“I’m not refusing. I just need to do things for myself.”
She rolled her eyes. “But you can’t do everything. Admit it.”
“Maybe not, but I sure as hell am going to try.”
“Why?”
“Because I always have, Jenna. I’ve always been self-sufficient. I don’t know how to be anything else. I’ve been on my own since I was eighteen. I’ve had a lot of responsibility. I’ve seen a lot, done a lot and no one has ever held my hand through my injuries.”
She felt a pang of sadness for him, although he didn’t seem sorry for himself at all. He didn’t have a home to return to in between bull riding events, not really. She knew his parents sold their ranch when Dustin graduated from high school and took off, and they continued to travel in a motor home. Dustin remained in the Tucson area. He didn’t have family around. At least she had Tom.
In a way, Dustin had Tom, too.
But still, he needed help, and he was here. So was she.
“I know you want to remain self-sufficient, and I’ll let you do that, as long as you don’t hurt yourself doing so. How’s that?”
He grinned and touched her arm. His hand callused from riding, was warm to the touch.
“It works for me.”
“Good,” Jenna said, nodding. “Have a good rest.”
She returned to the kitchen, and while Andy finished his lunch, Jenna busied herself in the kitchen, thinking of her conversation with Dustin. She washed a handful of dishes and put everything away.
She sighed as remembered that she would have been in Brussels today.
Just as she closed the refrigerator, she heard a crash and a muffled curse.
“Stay here, Andy,” Jenna ordered.
She ran to the guest room, where Dustin was on the floor facedown. Turning his head, he looked up at her, then winced in pain. He was wearing only a pair of white boxers.
“Are you okay?” Jenna knelt down on the floor next to him. She touched his shoulder and ran her hand over his arm. His skin was tanned and warm to her touch, his body tight and muscled. “Anything broken?”
“I’m fine,” he said quickly. “Just feeling foolish. I tripped.”
“Let me help you up, Dustin,” Jenna said. “I don’t see how you can do it alone.”
Dustin shook his head. “Thanks, but there’s no way you can lift me. I’m too heavy. Just get that chair over by the desk and hold it still. I’ll use that as leverage.”
She held the chair in place and watched as Dustin slowly raised himself up from the floor, dragging his cast. She couldn’t help noticing the play of arm, shoulder and back muscles as he pivoted onto the bed, tired.
“Let me cover you up,” she said.
“Thanks,” he said, avoiding her gaze.
“Maybe you’ll let me help you more, Dustin. You could have seriously injured yourself.”
“I’m fine.”
“Blockhead,” she muttered under her breath.
“What’s that?”
“Blanket. I’ll get you a blanket.”
She found a brightly striped serape and covered Dustin with it, averting her eyes from his too-perfect body and noticing the circles under his eyes instead.
“Are you willing to admit now that you need my help?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Nope.”
She shook her head. “You stubborn … um … ah … bull rider.”
“Aww … such praise.” His eyes were half-shuttered, but she could still see the twinkling blue hue. “You’re the best, Jenna. I mean it.”
She’d waited years to hear him say that.
“Close those blue eyes, cowboy. We’ll talk later.”
“Can’t