Love Inspired January 2016, Box Set 1 of 2 (9 page)

As for his own therapy, he knew he would have to give in sometime, but he also knew he couldn't work with Chloe. Maybe he could see someone in Fort Worth.

A long drive, which meant more time away from the ranch that he could ill afford.

He popped a pod into the single-serve coffeemaker, feeling the weight of his responsibilities. Then he heard a muted squall from upstairs. Cody was awake, which meant Chloe would be coming down soon, her green eyes probing as if waiting for him to give in.

He went to take out another mug for Chloe, but as he reached up into the cupboard another shard of pain shot through his leg and up into his back. He clenched his teeth, riding it out.

“Are you okay?”

Grady jumped, almost dropping the mug. He drew in a long, slow breath, leaning on the counter with one hand, and thankfully the pain subsided as it usually did. “Yeah, I'm fine,” he said, flashing her what he hoped was an assuring grin.

She wore an old plaid shirt hanging loose over a pair of jeans so faded they looked gray. One knee was ripped and the hems were ragged. Her feet were bare, her hair still tousled, though she had made an attempt to tame it by pulling it back. A faint line of mascara still smudged her eyes.

Yet she still managed to make his heart beat faster.

She stared at him with what he thought of as her professional look. As though he was some specimen she was examining. But to his surprise she said nothing about therapy or exercises, even though he was obviously leaning on the counter to take weight off his injured leg.

“I thought I heard Cody,” he said, setting one mug on the coffeemaker and pressing the button.

“He's fussing a bit, but not fully awake. Kind of like me,” Chloe joked, walking past him to pull the creamer out of the refrigerator. She set it on the counter, then took a couple of spoons out of one drawer and put them by the coffeemaker. “Sounds as if it's blowing hard out there,” she said, stifling a yawn.

“It looks quite nasty. Snow mixed with sleet. I'm wondering what the roads will be like.”

The lights flickered and both of them looked up at the ceiling as if waiting for them to extinguish.

Chloe pushed away from the counter, walked to the bay window and shoved aside the heavy curtains. “Doesn't look good,” she said. “I don't think anyone will be going anywhere in this.”

“I guess I'll have to make some calls,” Grady said, getting another cup ready. “No sense having our hands risking an accident just to get to work today.”

“Can you manage without the hands around?”

Grady shrugged, the gnawing pain in his leg a reminder of the extra work he had done yesterday with Emilio and Josh as they'd fed the cows that were close to the ranch. “Cows will be good for a couple of days. I'll have to get Emilio to feed the cattle at the other place. He's got a tractor there at his disposal, so they should be okay.”

They would have to get a few of the horses in, however. Two more besides Sweetpea were in foal, and he didn't want to risk them falling on the ice and losing their babies. He would have to figure out how to do that; the thought of navigating the ice with a crutch gave him the willies.

“You should call Maddy and the other girls and let them know, as well.”

“I doubt their parents would let them come anyway,” Grady said, stirring in some sugar and cream into the coffee and setting her cup on the eating bar by the counter. “Your coffee is ready.”

She came back to the kitchen and was about to pick up the creamer when he stopped her.

“I already did that.”

She pulled her head back in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. One sugar and about a quarter cup of cream.”

“Not that much,” she protested.

“Pretty close,” he teased.

She settled on a stool across from him, cupping her hands around her mug, and gave him another smile. “Thanks so much. I'm surprised you remembered.”

“All part of my training to observe.”

She took a sip of her coffee and released a sigh of pleasure. “That's just perfect.” She rested her elbows on the eating bar, her coffee cup cradled between her hands as she watched him. “You've been in the army since graduating high school, haven't you?”

Grady nodded, stirring some cream into his own coffee. Most of his life he drank it black but that was more convenience than anything. Cream was a luxury he never indulged in except when he was stateside. “I've been in special ops for the past three years.”

“Green Beret, I understand,” Chloe said, her voice full of admiration.

Grady felt a dull ache in his chest. “Not anymore.”

Chloe nodded as if acknowledging his loss.

“Though it's just as well right now with Ben in the hospital,” he said before she could jump in with some platitudes about how if he did the work he could be back at his old job in no time. The same facts his army doctor had thrown at him. The facts immediately negated by the physical therapist he had worked with in the hospital. “I've got enough happening in my life anyhow.”

“When Ben comes out of his coma, would you go back? To the army?”

Grady thought of the training position his superior had offered him as he took a sip of his own coffee, one hip leaning against the counter for support. It didn't hold any appeal. “I can't go back to doing something less than before.” Then he gave her a melancholy look. “But I like you how said
when
, not
if
when you talked about my brother. As though it's a foregone conclusion that Ben will come back to us.”

“I'm not the kind of person to throw out things just to make people feel good. The last time we visited Ben the doctor said Ben was showing signs of wakefulness. I feel fairly positive.”

“You always were a positive person,” he said.

“Not always so positive. There were times...” She let the sentence slip away unfinished.

“What times?” he prompted, curious as to which part of her life she referred to, wondering if it was connected to the sorrow he saw in her eyes that afternoon in the hospital.

She pulled in a deep breath, her face holding a puzzling hurt, then she shrugged as if shucking off whatever memories clung to her. “Doesn't matter.”

But suddenly it did. To him.

Cody started wailing in earnest, Chloe took a gulp of her coffee and without another look his way slipped off the stool and hurried upstairs. Grady watched her, yearning to find out what she was talking about.

Then the phone rang.

Grady answered. Josh was on the other end telling him that he couldn't come to the ranch. He was stuck in his yard.

After Grady hung up he walked over to the window. Though the day was dawning, it was still dark and gray outside, but there was enough light to show him ice and snow clinging with a treacherous grip to fences, buildings and roads.

No one would be coming and no one would be leaving.

Until the storm let up and the weather got substantially warmer, Mamie, Cody, Chloe and Grady were stranded.

CHAPTER NINE

“W
here are you going?” Chloe asked as she came down the stairs.

Grady wore his heavy winter coat and was limping toward the porch.

“Is Cody asleep?” he asked, not answering her question.

“Down for his morning nap.”

“How's my grandmother?”

“She's reading in her bed.”

This morning after she had fed Cody his breakfast, Chloe had gone to check in on Mamie Stillwater, who hadn't gotten up at her usual hour. The dear woman had said she was too tired to get up, so Chloe had brought her some tea and toast, both of which had been gone when Chloe got back.

“Do you think we'll need to take her to the doctor?”

“No. I think it's just a cold,” Chloe said, carrying what was left of the bottle she had given Cody to the sink. “She doesn't have a fever and thankfully she's not coughing.” She emptied the bottle's contents and rinsed it out, then put it in the dishwasher.

Chloe suspected his grandmother was simply tired and run down. The past few months had been stressful for poor Mamie. It was no surprise she might be coming down with something.

“I better get going,” Grady said.

“Where?” Chloe had checked the weather on the computer in the office and it talked of school and road closures and travel advisories. Though it was still storming, she could tell the yard was also impassable.

“I have to bring the horses into the barns.”

“Surely you're not doing that now? By yourself?”

“I have to. Two of them besides Sweetpea are in foal and need to come inside.”

Chloe couldn't stop her glance down at his leg and the crutch he was picking up. She wanted to protest but then thought of what Saul had told her about Grady feeling less like a man as a result of his injury.

“I can help you,” she said. “Cody and your grandmother are both in bed and won't need me for at least an hour.”

“I'll be okay,” Grady said.

“Of course you will, but it wouldn't hurt to have an extra set of hands around horses in a storm.”

Grady gave her an oblique look, as if he wasn't sure of her motives but then, to her surprise, he gave her a tight nod. “Okay. Just make sure you don't fall on the ice.”

Chloe clamped down an automatic response. “I'll let your grandmother know what's happening and I'll get my cell phone in case she needs to get hold of us.”

But by the time she came back down, Grady was already outside.

“Stubborn man,” Chloe muttered, yanking on her coat, tugging a stocking cap down over her ears and pulling her gloves out of her pockets. She got her winter boots on quick enough and stepped out the door. Her feet slid out as soon as she set foot on the sidewalk. Flailing her arms, she regained a precarious balance on the slick ice and snow, and moved more slowly across the yard as the sleet beat at her with icy needles. If she squinted she could just make out Grady's dark shape ahead of her, his crutch far out to the side, giving him support.

She caught up to him just as he got to the barn and before he could protest, which she knew he would, she reached past him and pulled hard on the handle. The door, probably frozen on its rails, didn't budge. She tried again, bracing herself. This time Grady helped her and together they manhandled the door open.

Inside, the barn was a haven of darkness and quiet. The storm, muted by the heavy wooden walls, sounded less menacing in here.

Chloe brushed some snow off her hair and turned to Grady, who was closing the barn door. He flicked a switch and golden light bathed the cool interior.

“So where are the horses?” Chloe asked, shivering as a piece of snow melted down her neck. Sweetpea nickered at them, as if telling them they needed to get the other ones inside.

“Out in the pasture off the training pens,” Grady said. “We'll need to get most of them into the corrals first before we can sort out which ones we want in the barn.”

Though Chloe had worked with the horses on her father's ranch, she also knew that she would have to be cautious working with someone else's animals. She didn't know their pecking order or their behaviors. She would have to be careful and, at the same time, watch Grady. She took a quick breath, sent up a prayer and then followed Grady to the tack room.

“We'll hang these just inside the door. I don't want the horses seeing them until we've got most of them penned up.”

“Good idea,” she agreed.

She walked alongside him, trying not to ignore his hurried but awkward movements. The last thing she wanted was another accident, she thought, her palms growing damp inside her gloves.

“Ready?” Grady asked as they arrived at the far door of the horse barn leading to the horse corrals. He gave her a conspiratorial grin and she felt herself relax. Grady had faced far worse than this, she reminded herself. He had been born and raised around horses and knew them.

Chloe tugged her hat down on her head, then nodded. As soon as they stepped outside, the wind sucked her breath away and ice stabbed her face. She kept her focus on Grady ahead of her. In the distance she heard the whinnying of horses as Grady opened the fence to the pasture. The sun was coming up, turning the pitch black into a dark gray. As she squinted through the blinding snow, a vague outline of dark shapes ran toward them, growing clearer with each step.

“Here they come already,” Grady shouted. “Open the gate to the corrals. Ten feet ahead of you to your right.”

Slipping and sliding over the icy snow and clinging to the fence for support, Chloe made her way to the gate. With chilled hands she fumbled with the latch of the chain holding the gate closed. Finally she got it undone, the howling wind unable to mask the growing thunder of the horse's hooves. She pushed on the metal gate with its frozen hinges, stifling her own panic.

She heard Grady shout, the momentum of the horses slow and as she got the gate open, they swept past her, throwing up snow and ice, panting as they ran into the corral.

“The ones I want are in that bunch,” Grady called out. “Close the gate. Close the gate.”

The horses, now milling in the corral, seemed to sense they were hemmed in and were already turning to come back out when Chloe pushed the gate shut, her feet skidding on the slick ice. The gate clanged shut and the lead horses stopped, slipping and sliding, but, surprisingly, keeping their footing.

“You're better on ice than I am,” Chloe grumbled, her hands frozen as she wrapped the chain around the fence post and the corral gate. Her gloves were stiff and her fingers unresponsive, but she finally clipped the chain closed.

She leaned against the gate, shivering as she breathed out a heavy sigh of relief.

Grady came up beside her and clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Great job. Thanks. I couldn't have gotten them in myself.”

She nodded, realizing that only part of their work was done. The pen was icy and the horses, most likely riled up by the storm, tossed their heads around, snorting and restless. She didn't look forward to going in there.

“Which ones do you want?” she asked, hunching her shoulders against the biting cold.

“Babe and Shiloh. The roan mare with the blaze and the appy.” Grady blew out his breath, as if also anticipating the difficulties they would face.

“I'll get the halters.”

When she got back, Grady was already in the pen, oblivious to the ice pelting him, his hand out, calming down the horses. She was surprised at how much they had settled already, but she knew catching the pregnant mares and getting them separated from the herd would still be dicey.

She climbed the fence, slowly and deliberately just as her father had taught her, her pants sticking to her legs, her thighs and hands numb with cold.

Keeping the halter behind her back, she walked toward Grady, who stood in front of the group of horses, holding his hand out to calm them down.

“Do you dare go to Shiloh, the appy, and get her?” Grady said, raising his voice just loud enough for her to hear. “I'll get Babe.”

Chloe bit her lip in apprehension, but she nodded as she handed Grady the halter. She moved toward the horse, wishing she could have come up beside her rather than head-on, a gesture horses often interpreted as a threat. As Chloe approached, Shiloh tossed her head, as if establishing her independence but, to Chloe's surprise, didn't move. Chloe wrapped her arm around the horse's neck, grabbing the halter rope and slipping it around. Then she got the halter on, fumbling with the buckle with unresponsive fingers. One down, she thought, tugging on the halter rope when the horse didn't want to move.

Chloe brought Shiloh to the fence and tied her up, then went to see if she could help Grady.

He had managed to get the rope around Babe's neck, but she tossed her head, resisting. Grady clung to the rope with one hand, to his crutch with the other as he wavered on his feet. Babe pulled back, Grady's crutch slipped on the ice and he spun around.

With a pained cry he barely kept his balance, but the rope fell out of his hand, the halter fell to the ground and Babe, with another toss of her head, ran around Grady, the other horses following.

For a panicky moment all Chloe saw was milling horses and through their legs, Grady, trying to find his crutch.

Chloe waved the horses away, yelling at them. Thankfully they trotted to the other side of the corral, and Chloe hurried to Grady's side.

“Are you okay?” she asked, grabbing him by the shoulders, her panicked gaze flicking over him.

“I'm okay,” he grunted, fitting his crutch, now coated with snow and dirt, under his arm, staggering. “I'm fine.”

But she could see by the way he pressed his lips together and his narrowed eyes that he wasn't. She helped steady him, grabbing on to his coat with her frozen hands.

They stood, their eyes locked, their breaths mingling. Chloe felt her heart quicken as Grady reached up and touched her face with one gloved hand.

“Chloe,” he said, that one word encapsulating everything building between them.

Then another gust of wind pelted her with snow, bringing back reality with an icy slap.

“Stay here. I'll get Babe,” she said.

Grady protested but she ignored him. She grabbed the halter rope from the ground, hunched her shoulders against the bone-chilling cold and with cautious steps walked toward Babe. Chloe knew enough about horses that the mare would be harder to catch the second time around, but Chloe was cold and miserable herself, her emotions riding a mixture of anger and fear at Grady's near miss and in no mood to be trifled with.

“Come here, you nutty creature,” she said, her low-pitched, singsong voice masking her anger. “Time to find out who is boss.”

Babe watched her approach as if debating what to do. Chloe took advantage of the horse's hesitation, moved directly toward her and with quick, sure movements got the rope around the horse's neck. She gripped it tightly with one hand while she flexed the frozen fingers of her other hand and slipped the halter on. Her gloves made handling the buckle awkward so she tugged them off with her teeth. The cold buckle stuck to her fingers, but she disregarded the pain as she forced the unyielding strap through.

Done. She grabbed her gloves and brought the horse back, hoping she would be able to untie Shiloh with her numb hands.

“I'll take her,” Grady said, but Chloe ignored him, pulled on the bowline knot she had tied on Shiloh's halter rope. Thankfully the icy rope pulled free and without a backward glance at Grady, she brought both horses to the gate. She unlatched it and got the horses through. A quick look showed that Grady was close behind her, latching the gate.

The barn door slid open on its rollers and she quickly led the horses inside, shivering with reaction at the cold penetrating every square inch of her.

The barn was warm in comparison to the storm raging outside. Sweetpea put her head over the gate, whinnying as if welcoming the newcomers. Chloe put Shiloh in the first open stall she found, shut the door with one hip and then put Babe in the one next to her. By the time Grady was back in the barn, she had the halters off and was shutting the door on Babe's pen again.

She stood, halters hanging on the ground, her hands like two blocks of ice, glaring at Grady as he turned to her.

“You scared the living daylights out of me,” she said, her voice controlled, masking a fury that gripped her in an icy fist.

“Sorry. It was an accident.” He yanked off his hat, slapping it on his thigh to dislodge the snow.

“Caused by your stupid pride and your disability.”

Grady's head whipped up at that and his eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

“I'm saying that this is enough,” she said, shaking the halters at him. “You have held out long enough. Yeah, I get that you're tough and independent and too manly to accept help, but you could have been killed out there. If you were by yourself, you might have.”

“I've faced death before,” he returned, his voice growing harsh, cold. “I'm not afraid to die.”

“Very brave and very noble. But you've got people depending on you, so you don't have that choice anymore. Ben needs you, Cody needs you and your grandmother needs you. Those kids that your brother has started that program for need you.” She stopped before she could add “I need you.” It was there, hovering, like a live thing but she knew she could never voice that thought. She had no right to need him.

She pulled in a breath, calming her anger, her hands now resting on her hips in a gesture of defiance and challenge. “Tomorrow you and I are starting your physical therapy. You have no place to go and neither do I until the roads are cleared, so get ready 'cause it's happening.”

Then, to her surprise, he sank down on a bale by the door and shook his head. “You're right. I need to do this.”

She was momentarily taken aback. She had already been marshaling her arguments, ready to beat down any protests he might make, but clearly they weren't necessary.