on this one.”
Luke couldn’t go as high as his good leg, but he dug in and raised it ten times to match the other instead of the five she’d assigned. “That stubborn streak of yours will serve you well, but when I say five, I mean five. Not ten. You can’t overdo this if you want those nerves to wake up.”
“When those nerves wake up.”
Ruby wasn’t in the business of lying to patients, even with the kindest of lies. “If those nerves wake up.” When he glared at her, she added, “So let’s do our best to make sure they do.”
He was quiet for the next exercise, and downright silent when his leg refused to comply for the following one.
“So have there been any potential Mr. Whoevers?” he leaned in and asked.
Ruby knew a diversion when she saw one. She shifted to a less taxing exercise and said, “As a matter of fact, there have. Not that I’d name names with the likes of you.”
“Gran told me you dated an insurance salesman from Waco for a time. An insurance salesman.” He coated the last three words with generous disdain.
Ruby slapped her file shut. “If you already knew the details of my social life, why’d you ask?” She pointed to his leg, an unspoken command to do the current exercise again.
“I wanted to hear it from you.”
“You wanted to gloat over my small-town choice of beaus, you mean.”
He grinned. “Well, that, too.”
“Okay then, let’s hear about your relationships. The serious ones. Lasting more than two nights or one town.”
Luke stretched his leg toward her extended hand, his voice tightening with the effort. “Don’t do those.”
“You mean don’t do those anymore.” The jab left her mouth before she could catch it back. He’d been “serious” with her and they both knew it.
It stopped Luke in his tracks, his leg dropping to the floor. “I suppose I deserved that,” he said after a long pause. “So we’re gonna talk about it, then?”
“No,” Ruby shot back.
* * *
Should they talk about it? Luke knew full well the danger of opening up that can of worms. He’d loved her—as much as a seventeen-year-old boy could love anyone. He’d bucked all the put-downs from the other guys on the football team about dating “the brainiac” instead of this year’s collection of cheerleaders.
If he and Ruby started talking about it, he’d wind up needing to apologize, and he wasn’t ready for that. Of course, he knew he’d broken her heart. But he didn’t believe he’d made the wrong decision. She wasn’t rodeo material. Even if he had taken her with him, the circuit would have eaten her alive. The press liked him much better with a rotation of pretty things hanging on each arm. According to Nolan Riggs, his agent, Luke’s good looks were an asset, and “...and he’s single, ladies!” was as much a part of his marketing as how much the camera loved his Buckton-blue eyes.
“Okay,” he said as he took the small plastic ball she’d told him to roll under his bad foot, “so we’re not gonna talk about it. Check.”
“Can you do that?” she asked. “Can you be decent and professional about this? Because if you can’t, we’re done right now.”
He searched for a safer topic. “What was college like?” He knew she’d gotten into some fancy-pants accelerated program for physical therapy that got her out in fewer years.
“I liked it. It was fun living in Austin for a while.” She pulled out some brightly colored elastic bands, wiggling her fingers through them while she decided which to use. She always did that—wiggle her fingers while she was thinking. He’d forgotten how amusing he found it.
“But you didn’t stay?”
She looked up at him. “I couldn’t.” She paused for a moment before she explained. “Dad.”
How could it have slipped his mind that her father had died when they were a few years out of high school? Gran had told him. He’d sent a card or something, hadn’t he? His schedule hadn’t allowed for anything like traveling home for a friend’s dad’s funeral. Especially when he’d been certain she wouldn’t want him anywhere near her. “I knew about that. Sorry. Really.”
She and her dad had been close. He remembered that. He’d been envious of it, as a matter of fact, given how bad things were between himself and his own father. Ruby simply nodded, and he watched her tuck her grief down inside a professional demeanor. She took back the little ball and looped a blue band around his outstretched feet. “Pull your knees apart from each other, slowly, ten times.”
He did as she requested. It wasn’t the time for some wisecrack; obviously her dad was still a tender topic. “How’s your mom? Your grandpa?”
She relaxed somewhat. “Grandpa’s had a rough year. He lives with Mama now. I help out as much as I can. It’s why I’m so thankful to have the practice here, where I can be nearby.”
He hadn’t ever figured her for the kind to strike out on her own. “How’d you open your own practice?”
Ruby spoke as he went through the exercise. “My course instructor, Lana, used to work for a firm down in Austin. When it got bought out by one of the bigger firms—that happens a lot these days—she got tired of the atmosphere and offered to set up a partnership with me.”
He hadn’t seen this Lana nor had anyone referred him to her. “Is she here in Martins Gap now?”
“Of course not. She’s got her own clientele back in Austin. I’m the satellite office. But she comes out once a week.” Ruby looked up, a peculiar squint to her eyes. “We collaborate on our more difficult patients.”
“So I’ll meet her, then.” It pleased the rascal side of him to be thought of as a “more difficult patient.”
“Not if I can help it.” She slipped the band off his knees and motioned for him to go back to the silly toe touches. “I owe Lana a great deal. I’d like to spare her your particular brand of charm if possible.”
Luke stared at her. This new Ruby had a spine he’d never seen before. Soft as a kitten? Not Ruby Sheldon. Not anymore. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t entirely say this cat didn’t have claws. Maybe it was better if they didn’t talk about their past.
“You like what you do? I mean, you can make a living at it, even out here?”
“I get a lot of hours at the medical center, and I do some home health care for seniors like Grandpa to fill in the gaps. I’m not rich like some rodeo stars,” she grasped his foot and pushed it toward him, stretching out the tendon. “But I do okay. Between the two of us—Lana in Austin and me out here—we’re able make it work. I had Dad’s life insurance policy to help me get set up. Mama figured Dad would have wanted it that way. ’Course, that was before Grandpa got really sick.”
“I’m not rolling in dough, just in case you were wondering.” He didn’t know why he said that. “Not yet, that
