had once called her a demon tyrant with no soul. But she was pretty sure he’d meant it as a compliment.
“Look, I’m good at what I do,” she asserted. “If you want me to take this job, you have to trust me.”
Nice going, Bailey. Three minutes after he offers you the position and you’re already giving ultimatums. What happened to demure and diplomatic and all that other crap?
He clenched his jaw, and she wondered uneasily if he would throw her out. Then he shoved a hand through his hair, the anger in his expression fading. “She’s my responsibility.” It didn’t sound like a protest, more like...a plea.
Her heart twisted at the jagged vulnerability in his voice. She added “lack of professional detachment” to her list of today’s sins.
Jarrett sighed, rounding the desk toward her. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
* * *
LAST SPRING, JARRETT had subdued a towering drunk intent on a bar fight until Sheriff Trent and Deputy Thomas could get there. During the summer, he’d calmly faced an angry bull and the occasional venomous copperhead. But women? They were scary.
Caught between Vicki’s inevitable displeasure and Sierra’s implacable resolve, he held his breath and knocked on the closed bedroom door. Normally, he did just fine with ladies, but now he was trapped in a house with two females he couldn’t charm. His sister was immune, and flirting with an employee was unethical.
A rebellious part of his brain that didn’t care about ethics wondered, if he were free to flirt with Sierra, how would she respond?
She was tough, with an unyielding force of will, hardly a woman who batted her lashes and giggled when a guy looked in her direction. Yet there’d been a sizzling moment in the study when their eyes met and— He broke off the thought. What had happened to not allowing himself to lust after the therapist?
Annoyed at his lack of discipline, he banged his fist against the door a bit harder this time. Still no response.
“She’s not answering.” From behind him, Sierra stated the obvious. Her palpable impatience was a vibration in the air. He could just imagine the nuclear confrontation when her hardheaded personality clashed with his sister’s. Was it a mistake to hire the redhead instead of sweet-natured Lucy Aldridge, who would affectionately fuss over Vicki as if she were an honorary grandchild?
“We should go in,” she urged.
Nearly a month of this woman bossing him around? Jarrett ground his teeth. “I’m not in the habit of invading her privacy.”
Sierra’s hand curved over his shoulder, surprising him, and when he turned to meet her gaze, he saw genuine concern. “You’d be checking to make sure she’s okay. The way you’ve described her state of mind...”
He turned the knob and shoved the door open a few inches. “Vicki?”
She was lying on her back with her eyes closed, but her features were creased with aggravation. “I’m trying to sleep. Go away.”
Sierra squeezed past him into the room. “Since you’re awake, I was hoping we could talk.”
At the unfamiliar voice, Vicki opened her eyes. “Now’s not a good time.” She glared past the redhead at her brother. “I’d appreciate you not letting strangers into my room.”
“I—”
“Not a stranger for long,” Sierra interrupted cheerfully. “I’m your new physical therapist. Sierra Bailey. Pleased to meet you.”
Jarrett wasn’t sure when she’d officially accepted the job, but he didn’t undermine her authority by asking the question out loud.
Sierra took a step closer to the bed, nodding toward the brace that covered most of Vicki’s forearm. “Are you regularly seeing a therapist about your wrist?”
Vicki grunted a sound that was more or less agreement.
“How much have you been working at home?” Sierra asked, switching to a question that required a more specific answer.
“When I can. It hurts.”
“The more you build your strength—within medically approved parameters, of course—the faster you’ll heal. What exercises have you been doing?”
“You’re the one who needs this job,” Vicki snapped. “Shouldn’t I be doing the interrogating?”
Folding his arms across his chest, Jarrett waited to see how Sierra dealt with his sister’s uncooperative attitude. He knew from their exchange back in his dad’s study that the redhead had a temper.
Yet Sierra’s tone was only one of mild reproach when she said, “I didn’t realize you had any questions for me. According to your brother, you willingly forfeited any say in the decision-making process.” She paused. “But if there’s something you’d like to ask, fire away.”
“Have you even been a therapist long enough to know what you’re doing?” Vicki raked her over with an expression that made it clear she wasn’t impressed with what she saw. “You barely look old enough to buy beer.”
Despite the younger woman’s sneering, Sierra smiled broadly. “Twenty-seven in November. But if you keep up the flattery, I might make it the whole time I’m here without trying to smother you.”
Jarrett bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Technically speaking, it was poor bedside manner to threaten one’s patients. But Vicki’s outraged expression was downright encouraging. It reminded him of fights they’d had in years past, when she’d been whole and spirited. He’d take her anger any day of the week over the hollow-eyed stare she’d developed.
Although he’d wanted to gauge how the two females interacted without his interference, now he spoke up on Sierra’s behalf, defending his hiring decision. “Ms. Bailey’s well qualified for her job—educated and experienced. According to Daniel Baron, she’s one of the best in the state of Texas.”
Sierra glanced back, looking surprised by the endorsement. The smile she flashed him decimated his vow not to notice how attractive she was.
“Thank you. But it’s silly to call me Ms. Bailey. We should be on a first-name basis since we’ll be living together. Who knows—by this time next month, we’ll probably all have nicknames for each other.”
“I have a few ideas,” Vicki muttered.
“So do I. As for my qualifications, I graduated college early and finished my med school program at the top of the class. Before that, I logged hundreds of volunteer hours in clinics and my high school athletic department, learning from the trainers. I’ve been learning everything I can about physical therapy since a PT helped me after I fractured my spine. You’re not the only one held together with screws and plates,” she added softly.
Jarrett was caught off guard by this revelation. During their conversations on the phone and in the study, she’d never volunteered why she’d chosen the field. He hadn’t thought to ask. With the knowledge that they’d faced similar obstacles, maybe Vicki would—
“We’re
