threw it across the room,” Jeff provided.
“Of course he did,” Maggie said. She spotted the cane, then walked to retrieve it. When she came back to his side, she thrust it at him and ordered, “If you’re going to stand, you’re going to use the cane.”
“I don’t take orders from you, Maggie,” he said.
“You do now.”
“In case you didn’t notice the lack of welcome, I’m firing you.”
“You can’t fire me,” she told him, leaning down to stare him dead in the eye. “Jefferson hired me. He’s paying me to get you back on your feet.”
“He had no right to.” Justice sent his brother a hard glare, but Jefferson was rocking back and forth on his heels, clearly enjoying himself.
Maggie straightened up, fisted her hands at her hips and stared down at him with the stern look of a general about to order troops into battle. “He did hire me, though, Justice. Oh, and by the way, I’ve heard about the other three therapists who’ve come and gone from here—”
Justice looked past her to glare at his brother but looked back to Maggie again when she continued.
“—and you’re not going to scare me off by throwing your cane. Or by being rude and nasty. So no need to try.”
“I don’t want you here.”
“Yes,” she said and a flicker of something sharp and sad shot through her eyes. “You’ve made that plain a number of times. But you can just suck it up. Because I’m here. And I’m staying. Until you can stand up without brackets of pain lining the sides of your mouth or gritting your teeth to keep from moaning. So you know what? Your best plan of action is to do exactly what I tell you to do.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because, Justice,” she said, bracing her hands on the arms of his chair and leaning in until their faces were just a breath apart, “if you listen to me, you’ll heal. And the sooner that happens, the sooner you’ll get rid of me.”
“Can’t argue with her there,” Jeff pointed out.
Justice didn’t even glance at his brother. His gaze was locked with Maggie’s. Her scent wafted to him like the scent of wildflowers on a summer wind. Her eyes shone with a silent challenge. Now that he was over the initial shock of seeing her walk into his life again, he could only hope to God she walked back out really soon.
Just being this close to her was torture. His body was pressing against the thick denim fabric of his jeans. Good thing she’d pushed him into a chair so damn fast or she and his brother would have been all too aware of the kind of effect she had on him.
Maggie stared into Justice’s eyes and felt her heart hammer in her chest. Seeing him again was like balm to an open wound. But seeing him hurt tore at her. So she was both relieved and miserable to be here.
Yet how could she have turned down Jefferson’s request that she come to the ranch and help out? Justice was still her husband. Though he probably didn’t realize that. No doubt he’d never even noticed that though he had signed the divorce papers and mailed them to her, she had never filed them with the courts. Naturally, even if he had noticed, Justice would have been too stubborn to call her and find out what was going on.
And as for Maggie? Well, she had had her own reasons for keeping quiet.
Strange. The last time she’d left this ranch, she’d been determined to sever the bond between her and Justice once and for all. But that plan had died soon enough when things had changed. Her life had taken a turn she hadn’t expected. Hadn’t planned for. A rush of something sweet and fulfilling swept through her and Maggie almost smiled. Nothing Justice did or said could make her regret what her life was now.
In fact, that was one of the reasons she’d come to help him, she told herself. Of course she would have come anyway, because she couldn’t bear the thought of Justice being in pain and needing help he didn’t have. But there was more. Maggie had leaped at Jefferson’s request to come to the ranch, because she’d wanted the chance to show her husband what he was missing. To maybe open his stubborn eyes to the possibilities stretched out in front of him.
Now, though, as she stood right in front of him and actually watched a shutter come down over his eyes, effectively blocking her out, she wondered if coming here had been the right thing to do after all.
Still, she was here. And since she was, she would at least get Justice back on his feet.
“So, what’s it going to be, Justice?” she asked. “Going to play the tough, stoic cowboy? Or are you going to cooperate with me?”
“I didn’t ask you to come,” he told her, ignoring his brother standing just a foot or so away.
“Of course you didn’t,” Maggie retorted. “Everyone knows the great Justice King doesn’t need anyone or anything. You’re getting along fine, right?” She straightened up and took a step back. “So why don’t you just get up out of that chair and walk me to the door.”
His features tightened and his eyes flashed dangerously, and just for a second or two Maggie was half afraid he’d try to do just that and end up falling on his face. But the moment passed and he only glared at her. “Fine. You can stay.”
“Wow.” She placed one hand on her chest as if she were sighing in gratitude. “Thank you.”
Justice glowered at her.
Jefferson cleared his throat and drew both of their gazes to him. “Well, then, looks like my work here is done. Justice, try not to be too big of an ass. Maggie,” he said, moving to plant a quick kiss on her forehead, “best of luck.”
Then he left and they were alone.
“Jefferson shouldn’t have called you,” Justice said quietly.
“Who else would he call?” Maggie looked at his white-knuckled grip on the cane he held in his right fist. He was angry, she knew. But more than that, he was frustrated. Her husband wasn’t the kind of man to accept limitations in himself. Having to use a cane to support a weakened leg would gnaw at him. No wonder he was as charming as a mountain lion with its foot caught in a trap.
He blew out a breath. “I could get Mrs. Carey to throw you out.”
Maggie laughed shortly. “She wouldn’t do it. She likes me. Besides, you need me.”
“I don’t need your help or your pity. I can do this on my own.”
A flare of indignation burst into life inside her. “That is so typical, Justice. You go through your life self-sufficient and expecting everyone else to do the same. Do it yourself or don’t do it. That’s your style.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” he argued. “A man’s got to stand on his own.”
“Why?” She threw both hands high and let them fall. “Why does it always have to be your way? Why can’t you see that everyone needs someone else at some point?”
“I don’t,” he told her.
“Oh,
