Wyoming Fierce

“And more specifically, you should stop trying to pick up women in bars,” she said with a bite in her soft voice.

He sighed. “Right again.”

“You need to get back into therapy. Both kinds.”

There was a long hesitation.

“You’re not doing yourself or your brothers any favors by behaving like that, Cane,” she told him. “One day, paying off the damage won’t be enough and you’ll have a police record. Think how that would look in the newspaper.”

There was a sound, like a man sitting down in a leather chair. The sound leather made was no stranger to Bodie, who’d wished all her young life for a chair so fancy for her grandfather. His easy chair was cloth, faded and with torn spots that Bodie kept sewing up.

“You’re not the only person who came home from the military with problems of one sort or another,” she continued, but in a less hostile tone. “People cope. They have to.”

“I’m not coping…very well,” he confessed.

“You have to have a psychologist that you like and trust,” she said, recalling her friend Beth’s entry into therapy over a childhood incident. “I don’t think you liked your last one at all.”

“I didn’t,” he said curtly. “Smart guy, never had a pain or injury in his life, said you just had to pull yourself together like a man and face the fact that you’re crippled....”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” she exclaimed. “You should have walked right out the door!”

“I did,” he muttered. “Then everybody said I wasn’t trying because I quit therapy.”

“You should have told why you quit, and nobody would have said anything,” she shot back.

He sighed. “Yes. I guess I should have.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the road in the morning with Big Red for that cattle show?” she asked suddenly, naming their prize bull who was on the show circuit. He’d won all sorts of awards. Cane took one of the ranch cowboys along with him on the road, to help manage the big bull who was, however, gentle as a lamb on the lead. Having another man who could help if Big Red got out of hand was a smart precaution.

“I’m headed out later, in fact. I just wanted to make sure I hadn’t abused your trust,” he added gently. “Not good policy, to alienate your only caretaker.”

“Tank or Mallory could save bars from you if they had to,” she pointed out.

“Well, yes, but not without some broken teeth. You can do it with fewer bruises.”

“Nice to know I’m useful,” she replied with a smile in her voice.

There was another pause. He didn’t like talking on the telephone. He did it reluctantly at best. “You dating anybody from that college you go to?” he asked suddenly.

Her heart jumped. “Why?”

“Just curious.”

“I’m too busy studying to run around with men,” she muttered. “I wasn’t blessed with the size brain all you Kirk boys have. I have to dig for my grades.”

“We all have degrees,” he admitted. “But we had to dig for ours, too. Well, maybe not Mallory. He’s just smart.”

“He is.”

“When do you go back to school?”

“Tomorrow morning before daylight,” she said heavily. “My first final is after lunch tomorrow. It’s finals all week.”

There was another pause. “You coming back home after you finish those?”

“Yes. I’ll be here until the first of the year, through the holidays. Granddaddy would be all alone without me. We only have each other.”

“And your stepfather,” he said, but without any warmth in his tone.

“Will Jones is not part of my family,” she bit off. “Not at all.”

“Can’t say I blame you for not claiming him,” he admitted. “None of us ever understood what your mother saw in him.”

Not for worlds would Bodie admit what her mother had said, that she knew she was dying and it was worth putting up with her new husband’s quirks because he was well-to-do and was willing to pay her medical bills and take care of Bodie. It had been a little more complicated than that. Bodie had spent the past two years getting undressed in bathrooms and locking her door at night to prevent any unwanted attention from her mother’s husband. Then when her mother died, everything had come to a head just after the funeral and she’d gone to Granddaddy’s home for good.

“There’s no accounting for taste,” Cane said.

“Truly.”

“It was money, wasn’t it?” he asked suddenly. “She was sick for a long time and couldn’t work.”

Bodie’s heart skipped. Her bow lips made a thin line. “Something like that.”

“She was proud,” he said unexpectedly. “Not the sort of person to ever ask for help.”

She didn’t reply.

“All right, I won’t pry,” he said after the silence. “So, I guess I’ll see you when you come home.”

“Yes,” she said, hesitant.

“If I said or did anything to upset you, I’m sorry,” he added. “I wish I could remember, but the whole night’s a blur. Tank said you looked a little ruffled when he drove you home.”

“I should have looked ruffled!” she replied with spirit. “Trying to wrestle a huge, heavy man onto a bed when he’s deadweight would cause most people to look ruffled! And then you passed out…”

“Oh.” He laughed, softly, deeply. “Okay. That’s really what I wanted to know.”

She was blushing. Thank goodness he couldn’t see. “So, you don’t owe me any apologies,” she said.

“I guess not. I had this really crazy dream tonight…but it was just a dream, I guess, after all.” He laughed, while Bodie bit her tongue. “Damned woman hurt my feelings so bad,” he said in a heavy tone. “I take things hard.”

“Women come in all shapes and sizes and dispositions,” she pointed out. “I don’t think women who hang out in bars looking for men are particularly sensitive. Just my two cents.”

“You want to know what they’re looking for, I’ll tell you…”

“Don’t!”

“It’s money,” he said flatly. “It was a five-star hotel, and a lot of rich men have a nightcap. She was waiting for a patsy to show up, and I walked in. If she’d seen an empty sleeve, she probably never would have come near me, with her hang-ups about disability,” he said curtly. “I guess I should toss that damned prosthesis in the trash can. I would, except I could buy a car with what it cost.”