Tyler, page 6
“If I have children,” he replied. “Some men never marry. I may be one of them.”
“Yes. I guess you might.” She eased his jeans onto his long legs and pulled them up as far as she was able. They were tight and the material was thick, and it took most of her strength just to get them to his upper thighs. She knew that he’d never be able to pull them the rest of the way, not with his chest hurting so badly.
“If you can lift up, I think I can get them over your hips,” she said through her teeth, and she didn’t look at him as she eased the sheet away and tried not to blush at the sight of his undershorts.
“Sorry, little one,” he said huskily. “But I do hurt like hell.”
“I know,” she said gently. “I’m not a child, after all,” she said for her own benefit, as well as his. “Here goes.”
She closed her eyes and pulled and tugged until she got the jeans over his hips. But she balked at the zipper, going hot all over.
“Fetch my boots, will you, honey?” he asked. He saw her hesitation and understood it. “I can manage this.”
She almost wept with relief as she went to the closet to get his dress boots. She’d seen them there when she’d found his shirts and jeans. They were Tony Lama boots, exquisite and expensive, black and gleaming like wet coal.
“These are going to be hard to get on you,” she said worriedly.
“You push and I’ll push,” he said. “They’re not all that tight.”
“Okay.”
Between them, they worked the boots onto his feet. Then Nell got a comb and fixed his disheveled hair. And all the while he lay there against his pillow, his feverish eyes watching her, studying her in a silence that was unnerving.
The roar of a car arriving interrupted the tension. “That must be Chappy,” Nell said. She caught her breath. “Tyler, you won’t tell him that I…”
“That you helped me dress?” He smiled gently. “I won’t tell anyone. It’s between you and me, and no one else,” he said, and the smile faded into an exchanged look that was slow and intensely disturbing. Nell’s heart ran wild until she dragged her eyes away and got up to let Chappy in.
Between them, they got Tyler into the back seat of the station wagon, where he could lie down, and to Dr. Morrison’s office.
The nurse helped Tyler to the examination room, while Chappy paced and Nell chewed on a fingernail. It took a long time, and she was expecting Tyler to come out with the nurse, but Dr. Morrison came to the doorway and motioned for Nell to follow him.
He beckoned her into his office, but Tyler was nowhere in sight.
“He’ll be fine,” he told her, perching himself on the corner of his desk, “but he’s got acute bronchitis.”
“I was so afraid that it was pneumonia,” Nell said, slumping into a chair with relief. “That pain in his chest—”
“That pain in his chest is from a pulled muscle, because he’s coughed so much,” he said with a tolerant smile. He folded his arms across his chest. “I want him in bed until the fever goes. He can get up then, but he can’t work for a full week. And then I want to see him again. I’ve written him two prescriptions. One’s an antibiotic, the other’s an expectorant for the cough. Give him aspirin for fever and keep him in bed. If he gets worse, call me.”
“Did you tell him all this?” she asked.
“Sure. He said like hell he’d lay around for a week. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”
She smiled. “Thanks. He’s working wonders out at the ranch. I’d hate to bury him on it.”
“He seems pretty capable to me,” he agreed. “Mind that he doesn’t sneak out and start back to work before you realize it.”
“I’ll tie him in his bed,” she promised.
“Bombard him with fluids while you’re at it,” the doctor added as he got up and opened the door. “He’ll be as docile as a kitten until that antibiotic takes hold, then look out.”
“I’ll post guards at his door,” she said with a grin. She felt lighter than air. Tyler was going to be all right. The relief was delicious. “Thank you!”
“My pleasure. He’s all yours.”
She smiled as she went out. If only that were true.
She called Chappy to help her get Tyler out to the station wagon, but only after she’d whispered to the receptionist to send the bill out to the ranch. She had a feeling that Tyler wouldn’t appreciate having her pay his medical bill, but that was something they could argue about when he was back on his feet.
All the way home, she wondered how she was going to manage getting him undressed again. But he solved that problem himself. When they got into the cabin, he sighed and murmured, “Don’t worry, Nell. I think I can manage getting out of this rig by myself.”
“I’ll go up to the house and get Bella to make some chicken soup for you,” Nell said quickly, and darted out the door. It was easier than she’d imagined.
She sent Chappy back to town to get the prescriptions filled, because it had seemed more sensible to bring Tyler home first. She gathered the few things she might need and told Bella where she was going.
“He’s not much of a threat in his present condition, I guess,” Bella said, and nodded, ignoring Nell’s outraged glare. “You can sleep on his sofa. But if you need me, I’m here. I can sit with him while you sleep if he gets worse in the night.”
“You’re a doll,” Nell said.
“I have a secret Florence Nightingale streak,” she corrected. “Wanted to be a nurse, once, but I faint at the sight of blood.”
“They say some doctors do the first time they see an operation,” Nell replied. “But I’m glad you wanted to cook, instead. You’re kind of special to me.”
Bella beamed, unaccustomed to the praise. “I’ll have that carved on my tombstone one day. Meanwhile, you fill Tyler full of that juice I gave you and don’t let him rope cattle out the window.”
“I won’t. Thanks, Bella.”
The older woman shrugged. “I’ll bring the chicken soup when it’s made. I’ll put some in a thermos for you.”
“It’ll be welcome by then. And some coffee, too, please. I don’t know if Tyler has a coffeepot, but I kind of doubt it.”
“He carries his around in a thermos,” Bella said surprisingly. “I fill one up for him every morning and every afternoon.”
“Okay. I’ll get going before he escapes. See you later.”
She found Tyler asleep again, apparently back in the altogether under the single sheet that covered him. Nell watched his face for a long moment, seeing the lines erased in sleep, the masculine beauty of his mouth. Just the sight of him was like a banquet to her eyes. She had to tear herself away. While he slept, she might as well make herself useful by tidying up his kitchen.
She put the juice Bella had sent in the small refrigerator, and then she washed the few dishes and cleared the counter. With that done, she checked to make sure he was still asleep before she went to the bookcase in the living room to find something to read.
Apparently he was a mystery fan, because he had plenty of books by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie on the shelves. There were some biographies and some history books about the old West, and even a book about ancient Rome. She chose a work on the Apache tribe and sat down to read it, glancing curiously at the photograph atop the bookcase. It was of a young woman with long dark hair and green eyes and a rather sad expression on her beautiful face. Beside it was a smaller photo of the same woman in white, standing beside a tall, fierce-looking man in a suit. That, she decided, had to be Tyler’s sister, Shelby. Nell knew Shelby had gotten married recently, because Tyler had gone to Texas for the wedding. That man was probably her new husband. He wasn’t much to look at, but perhaps he had saving graces, Nell decided.
She didn’t see any other photos. That had to be a good sign. If there had been a special woman in his life, surely he’d have a picture of her. Or maybe not. If he’d lost her to someone else, he might be too bitter to keep a picture of her in a prominent place.
Feeling gloomy, she went back to the book and started reading.
Bella brought chicken soup, and Chappy brought medicine. Tyler was still asleep, but when the visitors left, Nell took his medicine, a glass of juice and a bowl of soup into the bedroom on a tray. The medicine was important, and he needed nourishment. He hadn’t eaten anything all day.
She sat down gently on the bed beside him, her eyes going helplessly over his broad, bare chest and his face. “Tyler?” she said softly. He didn’t stir. She reached out and hesitatingly laid one slender hand on his chest, thrilling to its hard warmth. It was the first time she’d touched a man this way, and despite the circumstances, it was blatantly pleasurable.
“Tyler, I’ve got your medicine,” she said.
He sighed and opened his eyes slowly. “I hate medicine,” he said weakly. “How about a steak?”
“Dream on. Right now, it’s going to be chicken soup and encouragement. I brought you a tray.”
“What time is it?”
“Almost dark,” she replied. “Chappy took the guests to town to shop, and now he’s holding court at the supper table. I can hear him telling tall tales through the kitchen window, and everybody’s laughing.”
“He tells a mean story,” Tyler agreed. He breathed heavily and touched his side, encountering Nell’s warm hand as his own worked its way up his chest. “You’re cool,” he murmured.
“Only because you have a fever,” she said, thrilling to the touch of his fingers on her soft skin. “Here. Let’s get some medicine into you, and then you can have soup and juice. Are you hungry?”
“Half-starved,” he said. “But I don’t have much appetite.”
She gave him the antibiotic with a swallow of juice, and then ladled the cough syrup into his mouth.
“That tastes terrible,” he muttered.
“Most medicine does,” she agreed. “Can you manage to sit up while you eat?”
“Under protest.” He let her prop him up with pillows and dragged himself into a sitting position. The sheet lay loosely over his hips, but she caught a glimpse of underwear, not bare skin, as he moved. “That’s for your benefit,” he said dryly, smiling at her color. “I drew the line at pajamas, but I wouldn’t outrage your modesty too much this way.”
“Thank you,” she said shyly.
“Thank you,” he replied. “You’re stuck with me, I gather. Didn’t Bella rush to play nurse?”
“She did, but I headed her off. Crowbait would have to do the cooking if she came down here, and the whole outfit would quit on the spot.”
“He’s not that bad,” he said. “The military would love to get their hands on him. Imagine, a cook who can make a lethal weapon of an innocent biscuit.”
“Shame on you,” she said.
He sighed and grimaced. “I guess my biscuits aren’t much better, so I don’t have a lot of room to talk. Nell, I’m sorry to cave in on you like this….”
“Anybody can get sick,” she said easily, and began to feed him the soup without thinking about how much feeling that simple act betrayed. “It’s amazing how many people come out here from the East, thinking that their allergies will go away overnight. What they don’t realize is that the dust can be as bad as pollen, and that the soil itself harbors plenty of allergens. Just listen to Mr. Davis sneeze and wheeze on trail rides, if you don’t believe me.”
“Well, it’s the first time in my life I’ve had bronchitis, but I’ll buck it,” he said quietly. “And I’ll be back at work day after tomorrow.”
“No, you won’t,” she replied. “Dr. Morrison said you couldn’t get out of bed until the fever’s gone, and you can’t work for a week.”
He eyed her warily. “Did he tell you that?”
“He sure did,” she said with a mischievous grin. “So don’t try to get around me. If you do, I’ll call my uncle, and then where will you be?”
“Out of work and sick, I guess,” he said wearily. “Okay. I’ll stay put. Under protest, you understand.”
“I understand. You’ll get through it. Have some more soup.”
He might get through it, she thought, but would she? He slept through the night without waking, although she checked on him every hour or so until she was forced to curl up on the couch and sleep.
The next day was pretty much the same. She fed him and gave him his medicine, and he slept most of the day and all night through. But the following day he felt much better and nothing suited him. The breakfast Bella had sent over was too everything. Too hot, too much, too salty, too filling and too starchy. He didn’t want to stay in bed, he had to start planning for winter, and he had to get the cattle operation in hand. That meant more work than ever, in between getting the calves ready for the fall sale. He didn’t like the medicine, he hated the confinement, and Nell was beginning to wear on him, too, come to think of it.
She glared at him from red-rimmed dark eyes framed by long disheveled honey-brown hair, in the rumpled yellow knit shirt and faded jeans she’d slept in. She hadn’t even bothered to put on her boots, having met Chappy at the door for the breakfast tray.
“If I wear on you, that’s just too bad, Mr. Jacobs,” she said shortly. “Somebody’s got to keep you penned up, and everybody else is too busy. It’s just the second day. The antibiotic’s taking hold, and you want to fight tigers. Great. But fight them while you’re asleep, please. I don’t like people committing suicide on my ranch.”
“It isn’t your ranch yet, according to your uncle,” he reminded her curtly.
“It will be,” she said with cool determination. “Now you just lie down and get well.”
“I don’t want to lie down. I want to go to work. Hand me my clothes,” he said firmly, nodding to where Chappy had draped them over his straight chair.
“Oh, no, I’m not going through that again,” she said, reddening. “And you’re not able to dress yourself yet—”
“Like hell I’m not able!” He pulled himself painfully into a sitting position, drew in a deep breath and tried to get his feet on the floor. He grimaced and groaned and lay back down, turning the air blue on the way down.
“Damn it, damn this disease, and damn you, too!” he swore furiously.
“Thank you. What a kind thing to say to someone who’s given up regular meals and sleeping to wait on you for two days,” she said icily.
“I didn’t ask you to!”
“Somebody had to!” she shot back. She stuck her hands on her slender hips and glared at him. He looked all too good that way, lying back against pillows with crisp white cotton pillowcases. His chest was still bare, and his black hair hung down over his forehead, straight and thick. He looked exquisitely masculine, and the sight of his half-clothed body wasn’t doing Nell’s nerves any good.
“All right, thank you,” he said. “You’re an angel in disguise and I’ll remember you in my will. Now will you get out of here and let me go back to work?”
“You can’t work for a week—Dr. Morrison said so,” she replied for the tenth time in as many minutes. “And he wants to see you again to make sure you’re on the road to recovery. He told me not to let you on a horse.”
“I don’t take orders from women,” he said shortly. “I work for your uncle, and I answer only to him. You don’t and never have told me what to do.”
“Will you listen to reason?” she demanded, passing over that bit of insolence.
“Sure. If you’ll get me my pants.”
“Well, I won’t.”
“Then I’ll get them myself,” he said shortly.
She folded her arms across her chest with a smile. She knew he had on his underwear, so he wasn’t going to frighten her off. “Okay. Go ahead,” she invited.
She didn’t realize her mistake until he gave her a hard glare and abruptly threw off the sheet. Her face went from pale pink to scarlet red in seconds as he gingerly slid his long powerful bare legs over the bed and stood up. Without a stitch of clothing on.
Chapter Five
Nell was grateful that she didn’t faint. What she did do was flush from the neck up and, after one long, shocked glance, turn and run out of the room.
Tyler immediately felt like a heel. He sat back down, his bad temper forgotten, and pulled the sheet over his hips. “Nell,” he called gently.
She didn’t answer him. She was staring out the living room window, with her arms folded tightly across her yellow shirt, trying to decide whether to stay or go. If he was going to be that difficult, she didn’t know how she was going to cope. The sight of him had set her back a bit. Due to her experience with Darren McAnders when she was young, she’d led a pretty sheltered life. But she lived on a ranch, and because of that, she knew all about the technicalities of reproduction. But a nude man was a new experience. And a nude Tyler was… extraordinary. She was still shaking when she heard him calling her, more insistently.
With a deep breath, she turned and gritted her teeth and walked back to the doorway, pale and subdued.
“I’m sorry,” he said tersely when he saw her face. “I won’t do that again.”
She shifted a little. “If you’re that determined to kill yourself, I can’t stop you. But for your own sake, I wish you’d do what the doctor wants.”
His green eyes searched her frozen features. “I’ll do damned near anything to get that look off your face. Including,” he added wearily as he lay back down, “staying in the bed.”
He looked tired. Probably he was, and she wished she’d been older and more sophisticated so that she wouldn’t have made such a fool of herself. He made her feel about thirteen.
“Can I get you anything?” she asked.
“I could do with some more juice,” he said. “And if you’ll dig me out some fresh underwear, I’ll put it back on again.”
She felt hot all over and tried to hide her reaction to him as she got him a glass of juice and then took a pair of briefs from the dresser. As she put them beside him, he caught her wrist and pulled her down onto the bed, holding her there firmly while he looked at her.
“How can you be twenty-four years old and so damned innocent?” he asked quietly. “Especially with all the people who pass through here in a year’s time?”
