know the way back to your cabin.”
She spun around and walked backward. “If you decide to stay, be at the barn tomorrow morning. Nine o’clock.”
“And if I don’t?”
She smirked again. “Like I said. Have a nice life.”
Chapter Six
He wouldn’t show. Alana had bet Cabe her best pair of boots that Trent would leave. She’d even listened for the sound of a car come to pick him up yesterday, or maybe the bus, but she hadn’t heard anything. Last night Cabe had told her Trent had hung out in his cabin all day.
“You’re going to owe me your boots,” Cabe said as he walked into the barn the next morning.
“He’s still here?” She couldn’t keep the shock out of her voice.
“Spoke to him this morning. Said he’d see you in an hour.” Cabe glanced at his watch, his face obscured by his cowboy hat for a moment. “That means you have a half hour to tack up Baylor.”
He hadn’t left.
She had no idea why she felt so relieved. Having Trent gone from the ranch would be a blessing. Less of a headache. She could prep for the influx of guests they’d get at the end of the month. But no. The stubborn cuss hadn’t left.
“I’ll be damned,” she muttered.
Rana joined them in the barn, the girl excited about hanging out with her hero again. But when Trent arrived, Alana thought if his face had been a palette, it would have been painted in angry colors. Red. Black. Sienna. They were all there as he came to a stop near the barn’s breezeway.
“Let’s get to it,” he said, not looking her in the eye.
“Mount up,” she told him.
It was Rana who helped him onto his horse, and Rana who kept him company as they all rode out. Alana hung back, observing him, wondering about the best way to help him. Such a stubborn, hardheaded man.
“Do you see that?” Cabe asked, riding up alongside her.
They’d made it to the farthest edge of pasture, the part that began to slope upward, gradually giving way to pine trees and BLM land up above. The view, as usual, was spectacular, with the snow-covered mountains in the distance and the blue sky above. It had finally warmed up.
“If you mean the way his legs are flexing, then, yes, I had noticed.”
From in front of them, they could hear Rana coaching Trent on how to control Baylor with his hips and hands, and Alana would have to admit, he did seem to be trying harder today. He’d been slowly getting the hang of it as they rode the fence line, checking on the level of grass. In the distance, the cows had spotted them, their steady mooing signaling their desire for more food, a definite sign that it was time to move them.
“His mom said scans indicate he should have more control over his lower limbs than he does.” Cabe looked thoughtfully at their only guest.
“I read that in his file, too,” Alana admitted.
Cabe glanced at her quickly.
“What?” She frowned. “I read all my patients’ files. You know that. I also know they’ve been trying to coax him to continue with therapy for months. Now that I’ve seen his attitude, I know why. The man’s so eaten up with bitterness he can’t even see straight.”
She watched as Trent moved his hips, his boot-clad heel lifting as he did so, and not because he’d shifted his weight in the saddle. It was more than that.
“So you think it might be psychological?” he asked.
Alana shrugged, her dark bay horse lifting its head as if anticipating the cue for trotting. “I’m not sure. These injuries. Well, you know...it’s not an exact science.”
They’d learned that all too well with Rana. The doctors had said she’d never walk again. But the doctors had underestimated the determination of a ten-year-old girl who lived and breathed horses.
“You’re going to keep pushing him, aren’t you?” Cabe asked.
“I think I should,” Alana said, but as they rode toward the back end of the pasture, her mind chewed over the problem. If he did have partial use of his lower extremities, that was a good sign, and a definite indication that his issues might be more mental than physical. The problem was how to get the man to cooperate. Still, she knew when to push and when to keep a low profile. She hung back today, letting Rana work with him, her mind spinning.
A half hour later Cabe called out to Rana, telling her it was time to head back. An hour on horseback. That was a good start. But as the teenager and her sidekick rode toward them, she found herself sliding alongside Trent, despite telling herself it might be wiser to leave him alone today. Rana took the hint and joined her father.
“How you feeling?” She made sure to give him the full force of her smile, not that it appeared to have any effect. She had a feeling if he’d been a dog, he would have growled.
“Fine.”
He was still mad about yesterday. Okay. She understood that. He was still here, though, so that meant something.
“Your arms sore from yesterday?”
“No.”
She held on to her patience by a spiderweb thread. The man made her grit her teeth. Worse, he made her seriously self-conscious. Every time she looked into his eyes it took an effort to keep her cheeks from blazing brightly. Why did he have to be so good-looking?
“Didn’t your doctors tell you that you should be able to walk?”
There. She’d said it, although she instantly regretted the words. If he’d wanted to growl at her before, he wanted to bite her hand off now. He thrust his hips forward, hard, but Baylor refused to go faster. She almost smiled at the frustrated glare he shot her.
“Going somewhere?” she asked, knowing it would infuriate him further but wanting to rattle his cage for some reason.
“Obviously,” he hissed, “there’s no chance of me ever walking again. I would have thought you’d realized that yesterday. I can’t even get this damn horse to move.”
“Yes, you can.”
Anger. Bitterness. Frustration. She saw all that in his eyes and more.
“Are you afraid of failing?” Harsh, yes, but the question needed to be asked.
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Good,” she said quickly. “Because I’ve been taking it easy on you up until today. Not anymore.”
His head whipped back around, brows low, gray eyes glittering. “What?”
“The sooner we dig in, the better.”
She reached out and grabbed one of his reins.
