Christmas On The Silver Horn Ranch

“You’re in no condition to be doing anything,” she said flatly. “Except following doctor’s orders.”

His chuckle was muffled by the bedcover and for some reason the sound made her wonder what it would be like to be between the sheets with this man and have nothing between them but hot skin. How would it feel to surrender to all that masculine strength and passion?

The fact that she was even imagining such things was enough to jangle her senses. Lawrence was the only man she’d ever made love to, and since she’d lost him Ava had balked at the notion of another man touching her in an intimate way. So why was this man breaking into her safe little world? Why was he making her breath catch and her heart pound? It was crazy and scary and she had to put a quick end to it.

“I won’t be in this condition too much longer,” he reminded her.

His taunting voice broke into her runaway thoughts, and she resisted the urge to rip a piece of adhesive tape from his healthy skin. “That’s right. And once you’re healed, you won’t ever see me again.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.”

The teasing tone of his voice had changed to a husky promise, and Ava inwardly shivered. There were all kinds of retorts and reprimands she could shoot back at him. But it was becoming clear that if she jumped into a verbal sparring match with Bowie Calhoun, she’d wind up the loser.

With her lips pressed to a determined line, she silently redressed the remainder of his wounds, then turned back to the nightstand to gather her things.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

In more ways than one, Ava thought grimly. “Yes. You may sit up and put your shirt on.”

“Aren’t you going to help me with it?”

She wanted to bark a loud, clear no. But his arm and shoulder had to hurt. To punish him because of her body’s crazy responses was hardly professional. And that was the sole reason she was here at this sprawling ranch—to be this man’s nurse.

Sighing, she reached for the gray shirt lying at the foot of the bed and carefully eased it over his left arm and shoulder and then the right. When she finally pulled the fronts together in the middle of his chest, he lifted his head and Ava found herself looking straight into his eyes. The connection caused her heart to take a wild leap.

“I’m sorry if I made you angry,” he said gently.

She dropped her gaze from his and focused on buttoning the shirt back together. “I’m not angry.”

“Good. Because I like you, Ava Archer.”

Heat suddenly rushed to her face, and in an effort to hide it, she turned and grabbed her tote.

“Don’t worry about it, Bowie. It’s just a nurse thing. You’ll get over it.”

He chuckled again. “I wouldn’t bet on that, either.”

Not daring to glance his way, she walked to the door. “Remember to keep your ankle elevated as much as possible. And make sure you don’t get your bandages wet.”

“I already know all that stuff. Tell me something I don’t know.”

She glanced over her shoulder at his fresh, rugged face and realized she felt more alive than she had in years.

A faint smile tugged at her lips even though she was trying to stop it. “I like you, too, Bowie Calhoun.”

“Will I see you tomorrow?”

“You’ll see me every day until my job here is finished.”

A corner of his mouth lifted in a sexy grin. “Then I’ll have to make sure your job lasts a long, long time.”

And she was going to have to make sure to keep this man at a safe distance, she thought as she quickly stepped through the door and shut it firmly behind her. Otherwise, she was going to forget she was a nurse and remember she was a woman.

Chapter Two (#ulink_8a3d007c-e611-5082-a7e3-7e872e23cfc3)

Later that morning, Bowie hobbled his way down the stairs and into the family room at the back of the house. He was surprised to find his sister-in-law Lilly and Tessa, the Calhouns’ young house servant, decorating a huge Douglas fir. Colleen, his two-year-old niece, and her eleven-month-old brother, Austin, were both underfoot as they tried to get in on the fun.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Bowie asked as he approached the group. “It looks like someone is getting ready for Santa Claus.”

The cheerful boom of his voice had both children forgetting about the tree and racing over to greet their uncle. Colleen immediately grabbed his leg and hung on, while Austin held his arms up and begged for Bowie to hold him.

Lilly called to her young daughter. “Colleen! Don’t grab Uncle Bowie like that! You’re going to knock him over!”

Bowie laughed as he looked down at the two young children. Colleen was the blond-haired, blue-eyed image of her mother, while little Austin favored the Calhouns with his strawberry-colored curls and green eyes. It still amazed Bowie that Rafe had been the first one of his brothers to have children. Rafe had always been such a playboy. But falling in love with Lilly had definitely changed his rowdy ways. Now his brother was more than content to spend his free time with his wife and babies. Bowie adored women, and he liked children, too, but he couldn’t imagine making them the center of his life.

“If little Colleen can knock me over, then I’m ready for the nursing home.” Using his good arm, he scooped up Austin and gathered the boy to the right side of his chest. The effort caused him a bit of discomfort, but he hid it carefully. Showing any sign of weakness wasn’t his style. Which made his injuries that much harder to bear.

He said, “Come on, kids, let’s go have a look at this Christmas tree.”

Lilly shook her head at Bowie. “You shouldn’t be carrying Austin. In fact, you shouldn’t have come down the stairs without me or Tessa helping you,” she scolded. “Why didn’t you call for one of us? And you’re only using one crutch!”

“I was careful. And two crutches are cumbersome. One works better,” he told her. “So what’s with the tree? Isn’t it early to be decorating for Christmas?”

She shot him a playful frown. “This isn’t a marine barracks, Bowie. And it’s the second of December. It’s time to start decorating. Haven’t you looked outside? Dad has some of the hands putting up the lights on the house and in the yard.”

This would be Bowie’s first Christmas since his return home from the Marines. During the years of his military service, he’d managed to get furlough and spend a few holidays here at the ranch, but that wasn’t the same as living here. He’d almost forgotten all the hoopla that took place on the ranch prior to Christmas. The kitchen was always full of rich food and every room was decorated in some form or fashion. Even the barns were strung with lights and the horse stalls adorned with wreaths and bows.

“I haven’t noticed,” Bowie told her. “The nurse was here to change my bandages. I’m still trying to recover from her visit.”

Surprised by his news, Lilly said, “Oh, I wasn’t aware Ava was starting the job today. I would’ve come up and said hi to her. Uh, why are you still trying to recover? Was it that painful?”

“It wasn’t painful at all. I was only teasing.” But Ava’s visit had been eye-opening, Bowie could have told his sister-in-law. He still couldn’t shake her image from his mind, much less the sound of her voice or the tender touch of her hands. He’d been around plenty of women in his life, but none of them came close to affecting him the way she had. “She got me all fixed up. No problem.”

“Great. When Dad said Chet was sending Ava out to nurse you, I knew she’d be perfect.”

“She told me you two are friends,” Bowie commented.

Lilly nodded. “We’ve been friends and coworkers for several years. Although now that I work at the clinic, I don’t get to see her very often.”

There were lots of things Bowie would have liked to ask Lilly about her friend, but he wasn’t going to. He didn’t much care for snooping into a person’s private life. He preferred to ask the person face-to-face. And he’d already found out much more about the nurse during her short visit than he’d expected to. The fact that she was a widow, and had remained single for all these years, was still nagging at him.

“Well, well, little brother has come down to join the land of the living.”

Rafe’s voice had Bowie glancing over his shoulder to see his older brother walking into the room. He was dressed in batwing chaps and a sheepskin-lined coat. A soiled felt Stetson was pulled low on his forehead, while spurs jangled on his boot heels. Rafe wasn’t just the image of a cowboy, Bowie thought, he was a cowboy inside and out. As foreman of the Silver Horn, his brother had the enormous job of keeping a crew of men working and a few thousand head of cattle healthy and producing.

“I’m already pretty damned bored with that bedroom,” Bowie told him.

“The last time I looked, you had a TV, a stack of movies, books, a stereo and a laptop in your room. That isn’t enough toys to keep you occupied?” Rafe teased.