Whirlwind Reunion (15 page)

He was hot, sweaty, eating red dust and surrounded by the fecund odor of cow flesh and manure and dirt. He had to pay attention. A calf could wander off or a cow could step in a hole or something could spook the herd.

But Annalise was right there in his mind.

If there were no problems, the cattle would be settled in the south pasture by tonight and tomorrow he'd be able to see her.

They were really together, for good this time. She'd left him in no doubt she was ready and not just physically.

He recalled the unguarded look in her green eyes when they had made love. There had been no hesitation, just openness and love. He'd seen it there. He'd felt it.

In her kiss, in the slide of her silky-soft flesh against his, her slender legs wrapped around his hips, the tight grip of her body.

If he didn't stop replaying how they'd spent the other night, it would become obvious to everyone that he was thinking about a woman. His woman. She
was
his. He wanted to make it permanent, he realized.

He could take her to the Fontaine or bring her out
to the ranch, to that stretch of land she loved near the big oak tree with the patch of bluebonnets and Indian paintbrush.

They'd wasted enough time. They had resolved their differences about the baby so he couldn't think of any reason to wait.

The baby. Matt went still inside.
Baby.
Annalise could be pregnant right now. What if she was?

Had she even wondered? He couldn't believe
he
hadn't considered it until now. The possibility made him want to propose even more.

“Matt! Matt!”

He became aware of someone calling his name and the thunder of hoofbeats at the same time. He turned and saw Cora bent low over her black mare, Prissy, flying across the ground toward him.

Something was wrong. Matt hollered to one of his hands to take over his spot and spun Dove around to head toward Cora.

The older woman reined to a stop in front of him, her black mare jolting to a stop hard enough to dig dirt. “It's your pa!”

“What's wrong?”

“The pain is bad.” Her hazel eyes were wide with concern. “He can't get out of the wheelchair, not onto the bed or the sofa.”

Matt kneed his horse into a flat-out run, Cora's horse keeping pace with him. They reached the ranch and Matt rode right up to the front porch and jumped down, slapping Dove on the rump to send her toward the corral.

Cora was right behind him, dismounting before he could help her down. He rushed inside, saw his pa in the wheelchair looking as white as death. Deep grooves bracketed his mouth; pain etched his features.

The only other time Matt had seen him in this much pain was the day of the accident that had caused his injury.

“Pa!” He rushed over, not sure what to do.

“Help…me…get to the bed,” J.T. panted, his blue eyes cloudy with agony.

Matt yanked off his leather gloves and jammed them in the pocket of his denims before pushing the chair around the dining table and to the large bedroom on the bottom floor where Pa and Cora had moved after they'd married.

She hurried ahead of them and turned down the bed. Her usually calm features were pinched with worry. Between the two of them, they got the big man into bed.

He groaned, sweat glistening on his craggy face. “That already feels better.”

Cora sat on the edge of the bed, holding tight to his hand. “I'm sending Matt for Annalise.”

J.T. didn't argue, didn't even shake his head which told Matt the older man must be hurting like blue blazes.

Cora looked up at Matt. “I'll stay with him.”

“I'll be back as quick as I can.” He glanced at J.T. and Cora laid a hand on his arm.

“He'll be all right,” she mouthed.

He looked into her hazel eyes, so steady, and nodded. He turned on his heel and strode out the door, riding hell bent for Whirlwind.

An hour later, he and Annalise drove into the yard in her buggy. Because the rustlers were still on the loose, he had no intention of letting her travel alone. Later, he would take her back to town, where he'd left his horse. He helped her down and followed her inside.

He and Cora hovered in the bedroom doorway as
Annalise examined J.T. More than once he caught himself tapping his fingers against the frame. What did Annalise think?

As she quietly questioned her patient, she turned him so she could reach his back. Despite her careful touch, Matt saw his pa's fist clench in the white bedsheet. That and the fact that his lips were bloodless were a clear sign his father was in excruciating pain.

The older man continued answering Annalise's questions. She took a bottle from her satchel and asked Matt to fetch a glass of water. He did, handing it to Cora as Annalise measured an amount of medicine into a spoon then fed it to J.T. Cora held his head as he sipped at the water.

Annalise glanced at them. “It's morphine. It will ease the pain.”

The tightness across his chest eased as he watched her tend to his father.

“I don't want to give you too much morphine or you'll go to sleep and we need to talk.”

The older man nodded. The distress in his face began to ease and Matt drew his first full breath since helping his father into the bed.

Annalise motioned Matt inside. Cora stroked J.T.'s thick shock of silver hair. Annalise placed the medicine bottle on the bureau at the foot of the bed.

Matt crushed his hat in his hands. “Why is the pain so bad? It hasn't been like this before.”

Her look encompassed him and his stepmother. “The tumor has moved and I think it's grown.”

“So what do you recommend?” J.T. rasped in a strained voice.

“I think it's time for the surgery.”

“He's not considerin' that anymore,” Matt said. “Are you, Pa?”

The older man winced, asking Annalise, “What are the risks?”

“It could paralyze you.”

“What else?” Cora's voice shook.

“There's a chance you might not make it, J.T.”

“How much of a chance?” Matt asked harshly, his gut knotting.

“Your father's in good health—”

“What are the chances?” he insisted.

She met his gaze. “Fifty-fifty.”

“And if he survived, would he walk again?”

“There's no guarantee.”

The chances were as good that his pa might die as they were he wouldn't and if he did survive, he still might not be able to walk.

A buzz started in Matt's ears. Annalise continued to answer questions from the two older people, but all he could hear was that the surgery might kill his father. Matt felt as though he was being slowly suffocated.

“There are other options, right?” he interrupted.

“Yes. We can manage the pain with morphine or laudanum, but that's a short-term solution.”

“No surgery,” Matt said quickly.

When she frowned at him, he glanced at J.T. “Right, Pa?”

“You think I really need the surgery, Annalise?” The man's voice was thready with pain.

“Yes.”

“But that could kill him!” Matt burst out.

Cora looked away, but he saw a tear roll down her cheek. Her first husband had been murdered three years
ago by an outlaw gang and now she could lose J.T., too. He and Russ could lose J.T.

A knife-edged dread stabbed at him. They had lost their mother to a tumor. They couldn't lose their father, too. “Pa, you can't have surgery without talking to Russ.”

J.T., his strong features drawn and pinched, looked from his son to his new wife.

When his gaze moved to Annalise, she said quietly, “You shouldn't wait much longer. The tumor will probably continue to grow.”

Giving her a sharp look, Matt clenched his fists, trying to stay calm. “The chances aren't good enough, Pa.”

His father's blue eyes were bleak as he looked at Cora. “What do you think, honey?”

“I want whatever you want, but—” She broke off, biting her lip.

The strongest woman he knew was afraid and that hit Matt like a kick to the gut. “Pa.”

After another long look at Matt and Cora, J.T. nodded, saying to Annalise, “Do you have more of that medicine?”

“Yes. I'll leave some and I'll also give you a little more before I go. It will help you rest.”

“I guess I'll try the medicine option for now.”

“All right.” She patted his hand.

The crushing band around Matt's chest eased, but a feeling of heaviness still hung over him.

She took the small bottle from the bureau at the foot of the bed and showed Cora the amount to administer. Matt tried to rein in the frustration churning inside him.

Annalise picked up her satchel and squeezed her patient's shoulder. “Send for me whenever you need more
medicine or if something changes. If
anything
changes. I've left enough morphine with Cora for a week. That should give you time to talk to your family and decide what you want to do.”

“Thanks, girl,” he said in a raspy voice.

Cora echoed her thanks as Annalise followed Matt outside. He helped her into the buggy, taking his seat beside her. Urging the horse into motion, he clenched his jaw, struggling to get past the anger chewing on him.

He could feel Annalise looking at him, but he couldn't talk yet.

After a long moment of silence broken only by the occasional creak of buggy wheels and the swish of prairie grass, she reached over and curled a hand over his knee. “Are you all right? I imagine it was hard to see him like that.”

He grunted, telling himself not to say anything, but he burst out, “I can't believe you told him to have the surgery!”

“Why not? He asked me what I thought.”

“You said you were going to tell him the options and the risks. All I heard in there was you telling him what to do.”

“He asked my opinion and I gave it to him.” She frowned, slowly removing her hand from his leg. “You're mad because I did that?”

“He could die,” Matt bit out.

“Do you want him to live in pain the rest of his life?”

“I want him to have a life,” he said hotly. “If it was your father, would you be so quick to let somebody butcher him up?”

She winced. “It's not butchering, Matt. I'm not a butcher.”

He knew that. He heard the hurt in her voice, but fear rode him hard. “Would you recommend it for your father?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Well, I don't think you would. And I don't want you taking any chances with
my
father.”

“It isn't your decision, Matt.”

That had him seeing red, but before he could speak, she continued, “And it isn't mine. It's his.”

“He wasn't in his right mind. He was out of his head with pain until you gave him the medicine and that helped him. He was restin' easy when we left.”

“That's only a short-term solution.”

“What if he has the surgery and doesn't survive? What about Cora? What about me and Russ? Can you guarantee Pa won't die?”

“No,” she said quietly.

“Then you can't do it. You can lessen his pain with the morphine. That's what he wants.”

She appeared to struggle with something for a long moment before looking at him, understanding in her green eyes. “I think he only said that for your benefit. He saw how upset you and Cora were.”

“He's going to give a lot of weight to your words.”

“I never promised I wouldn't give my opinion.”

“You sure as hell did. During our picnic at the Founder's Day celebration. I don't want you to tell him that again.”

“Matt.” She tried to take his hand, but he gripped the reins even tighter.

She pulled back, edging away from him. “I know this is frightening. It is for him, too. He needs your support.”

Afraid of what he might say, he clamped his mouth
shut and reined up in front of the livery. “Well, here we are.”

In short order he had her horse unharnessed and rubbed down, the buggy stored.

Annalise's gaze followed him the whole time.

He couldn't look at her or he would get mad all over again. He led Dove out of the livery and tied her to the hitching post.

“Matt?” The hurt in her voice grabbed at his chest.

“I gotta find Russ.”

“When will you finish with the cattle?”

“Probably tomorrow.”

“Will I see you then?”

“I don't know.”

She angled her chin at him. “I can't believe you're mad at me about this.”

He didn't want to be, but he couldn't seem to get shed of it.

“If your father needs more morphine or decides he wants me to operate, you know where I am.”

“Yeah,” he growled. “I do.”

Her eyes narrowed and she studied him for a moment. Then she went up on her tiptoes and took his face between her hands, kissing him hard. Surprised, he stiffened, but then her mouth softened, invited.

Before he could push her off or kiss her back, she pulled away, her green eyes sparking with challenge. “You think about that, Matt Baldwin, and you remember who we are to each other.”

Picking up her satchel, she stepped around him and started across the street for her clinic.

He watched her go, feeling as if his chest was being crushed.

Maybe the surgery was the best option, but Matt didn't
see any point in cutting his father open when there was another way to help him. Pa obviously agreed because he'd told Annalise he wanted the morphine.

Matt wasn't crazy about his father taking the drug either. He knew the risks, had heard of men and women who had become addicted to it, but in this situation, the medicine was the best thing.

Wasn't it? He thought so, but he wasn't sure. What he did know was that Annalise had done something she had told him she wouldn't.

Their reconciliation had already hit a bump and so had his earlier plans to propose. Right now, that was just fine with him.