His Heart for the Trusting (22 page)

Lyssa couldn't
argue with that.  Cody had plenty of attitude.  But Lyssa had underestimated
the warning and now regretted it.  Fight fire with fire?  In her estimation she
was going to need to set off a case of C4 explosives to even make a dent.  

"Otis and
I aren't going anywhere," she said calmly.  "At least not for the
next month."

"A
month?"

"That's
right."

Anger simmered
to a boil just beneath the surface of Cody's exterior it seemed.  His movements
were quick and deliberate as he sat up straight and dropped his boots to the
ground with a thud.  She wanted to take a step back to shield herself from the
slap of anger she was sure he was about to unleash, but she held her ground.

Lyssa had been
too young to feel the anger when she'd lost her eyesight.  She learned, just as
a child learns to crawl and then walk, how to live in her dark world.  Learning
to crawl for a child was second nature.  Curiosity won over confidence every
time, hands down.  Get from point A to point B and it didn't matter how you got
there as long as you did it. 

Learning to
crawl as an adult, however, was utterly different.

She stayed
rooted in her place and in silence, she watched him stumble in disorientation
while trying to raise from the lounge chair, and then feel his way around the
table to the back of the chair.  He lifted his head and an almost imperceptible
sigh of relief escaped his lips.  Cody dragged in a breath of air and began
walking, his body tall and proud, his hands rooted at his side instead of out
in front of him as a guide.

He must have
memorized the amount of steps.  Even in his stubbornness, his instinct for
survival took over.  Maybe she could use that to her advantage.  Make it his. 
She wasn't going to give him an inch though.  She suspected a single step back
for Cody would feel more like a mile.

Eight steps.

He didn't need
her here.  Not right at that moment.  But she gave it one more try to see if
she could make a small crack in his resolve.

"If you'd
like, Otis will take you in."

He reached the
door and lifted his hands, floating them out in front of him until they made
purchase with the outer wall of the house.  "I told you I don't need the
dog."

"Yeah, I
heard you.  But counting eight steps only gets you from the chair to the
house.  What do you do when you're out in the fields?  There aren't any chairs
out there.  Or is that some place you never venture anymore?"

His whole body
became rigid.  But he said nothing.

She shifted her
weight to one hip and crossed her arms as she looked out into the green and
gold pastures that rolled deep into the horizon. 

"I suppose
you could count the fence posts, or even paces to the fence, but turning around
would be a bear.  You could end up walking all the way to the county line
before you hit the other side of the ranch."

"Your
point?" he said haughtily.  

"Otis can help
you get around.  Help you climb out of your eight steps and make it a hundred
or more."

He dismissed
her easily by turning and carefully walking through the French doors. 

She released a
slow breath, felt her shoulders sag slightly.  Guilt should be gnawing at her
inside by now for striping down his reality but she had no other choice.  In
her experience, it was either depression in a comfortable chair for the rest of
his days, or it was living again.  She was determined to make sure Cody Gentry
chose right.

In the
meantime, Lyssa had a few strong words for his father.

* * * *

Where the hell
was his father?  And how dare he invite some snotty woman into the house to fix
what couldn't be fixed, Cody fumed silently as he moved through the kitchen.  A
dog?  What the hell was his dad thinking?  Anyone with an ounce of sense or
optical training knew the life as he knew it was over.

"Isadore,
have you seen my father?"  He knew the housekeeper was in.  Ever since the
accident nearly eight months ago had taken his eyesight, the petite woman who'd
been a regular fixture in the main house for as long as he could remember had
taken to keeping her eyes on him.  Even if he couldn't.

"He not
come back from Houston yet," she said in her thick accent.  He heard the
scrape of a pan against the metal stovetop.  He was sure the pot was empty and
she was just trying to act busy, as she always did when he caught her
watching.  No doubt she was the one who'd told Lyssa McElfen, or whatever her
name was, he was outside by the pool.

"He's with
Ms. Waite."

Terrific. 
Dad's new lady friend.  Cody supposed he should be happy for his old man,
having been widowed for more than seven years now.  His trips to Houston were
becoming longer and more frequent.

"Has Beau
made himself scarce, too?"

"Your
brother is out with the horses, I think.  He's been out a long while and should
probably be in soon.  Do you need me to get him?"

Cody sighed, a
fingernail of irritation scratching its way to the surface of his composure. 
But he didn't bark out at Isadore.  He knew better.

"No, don't
bother.  I'll find him."

The last thing
he wanted was for Isadore to rush right out find Beau.  His relationship with
his brother was tenuous at best since Beau went on the road.  He'd left home
nine years ago to pursue fame on the rodeo circuit as a bronc bareback rider,
leaving Cody a pile of ranch work and his dad's bad moods to deal with because
of it.  The World Championship title would have been his had he not come back
to Texas and married the daughter of their father's biggest rival, opening up a
rodeo school on the ranch his dad had always wanted for himself. 

Thanks to the
accident that took Cody's eyesight, his dear brother was now doing double duty
back at the Silverado Cattle Company, stepping into Cody's boots as easily as
if he'd never been gone.

"What do
you know about our new guest?"

He sensed
Isadore's hesitation with her hitch of breath.  "Mr. Gentry asked me to
get the guest bedroom ready.  She is staying in the room next to yours."

"Ain't
that convenient," he groaned, nearly under his breath. 

Not quiet
enough, however.  Isadore's glare penetrated him as harsh as the hot Texas
sun.  He didn't have to see the scowl on Isadore's face or the fist planted
firmly on her aproned hip to know that was the picture in front of him now. 

"You be
polite to her.  Ms. McElhannon seems like a very nice young girl."

"I'll be
my usual charming self."

"Hmm,
that's what I'm afraid of."

# # #

Available now!

Material
Witness (A Romantic Thriller) by LA Mondello

Crime author
Cassie Alvarez had murder on her mind when she walked into Rory's Bar under
dressed and under cover to research her latest crime novel.  Researching the
cool, blue-eyed and dashingly handsome man at the end of the bar stirred her
senses more than she wanted to admit.  But was this man of leather armor all he
appeared to be?

Playing White
Knight to an innocent wasn't how Detective Jake Santos planned to spend his
time under cover.  But there was no way "CJ" was what she claimed to
be and that nagging tightness in Jake's chest told him he'd better take her
home to safety before she got herself in trouble.  Then the barroom exploded
with gunfire.  When the dust clears, an FBI agent is killed along with
Providence’s most notorious crime boss. 

Cassie is the
only material witness who can identify the shooter.  But when her name is
leaked to the media as his only witness to the grisly murders, the FBI wants to
protect their case at all cost.  Cassie insists she only trusts Jake to protect
her.  He gives his word he'll protect her at all cost despite the fact that
guarding the beautiful novelist is a serious distraction.  But can he keep from
betraying her trust?

For up to date
information on new releases, visit me at
http://www.lisamondello.blogspot.com
 or write me at
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