A Baby On His Doorstep. Roz Fox Denny
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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