Home on the Ranch: Wyoming Cowboy Ranger
Author
Rebecca Winters
Reads
15,4K
Chapters
13
Chapter 1
Lily Owens hurried into the physiotherapy clinic at Whitebark Hospital, where she’d been working for the last three months. She hated to be late for work, but one of the mares on her parents’ ranch had gone into labor and she’d stayed to help until the vet arrived.
“Hi, Lily! Mr. Harrington is in the examining room.”
“Thanks, Cindy. Any messages?”
“Not yet,” the receptionist responded.
Lily went down the hall to the closet for her white lab coat. She slipped it on over her short-sleeved yellow top and cropped white jeans. On the way to her office, she passed the recently divorced head of the physiotherapy clinic, Dr. Matt Jensen, who was already busy at work. He stopped to talk to her before going into another examining room.
“I’m glad I caught you before the day got away from us. How would you like to join me for dinner and a movie next Friday?”
Caught was right. Matt was nice-looking and friendly, but she wasn’t attracted to him and needed to think fast. “Matt? I’m flattered that you would ask me out, but I don’t think it’s a good idea since we both work in the same clinic.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, but please don’t take it personally. I once made the big mistake of getting involved with someone in the workplace. It was a disaster and I vowed never again.”
“That’s too bad. I think we could have a good time.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she replied with a smile. “But I learned my lesson.”
He nodded. “Fair enough. Have a nice day.”
“You, too.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, she headed for her next appointment. “Good morning, Ben,” she said to the older gentleman as she entered the examining room. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now that you’re here.”
“I’m sorry you had to wait. One of our mares decided to have her foal this morning. I stayed until the vet arrived.”
“You know how to deliver, too?”
Lily laughed. “All I could do was gentle her so she wouldn’t panic.”
“You’re good at that, young lady, and beautiful, too. How come you’re not married yet?”
There was an answer for that. But it was one she hadn’t cared to think or talk about in years. “All the good ones like you are taken.”
A chuckle escaped his lips. “One day some cowboy’s going to stagger in here for help. He’ll gaze into those periwinkle-colored eyes and fall head over heels. That’s a promise.”
She smiled indulgently. “Sounds good, Ben.”
The sixty-two-year-old feed-store owner had been brought in two months ago almost crippled from mechanical back pain. After examining him, Lily had to train him how to lift and lower grain bags and other inventory that had caused his trouble over years of doing it wrong.
Lily patted the table. “Come on up and let’s see how your exercises are progressing.”
“You’re going to be proud of me.”
“I’m impressed how well you’re moving.” She put him through the procedures they’d been working on to strengthen his lower back. “Any pain?”
“Not anymore.”
“All right, you can get down.” He sat up the way she’d taught him and got off the table. “If all goes well and you remember what you have to do, I won’t have to see you again.”
“I don’t like the sound of that. I’m going to miss you.”
“You’ve been a terrific patient. I wish they were all like you. Good luck, Ben, and take care from now on.”
“I intend to,” he answered.
After he donned his Stetson and left the room, she disinfected the padded table and washed her hands to get ready for Janie Waters, her next appointment.
The thirty-five-year-old laundry worker suffered from mechanical back pain similar to Ben’s. Because she’d always favored her left leg, which had once been broken, she’d created stress and needed to relearn movements to get rid of the pain while she was on her feet four hours a day. Once you broke or fractured a bone, you had to retrain the body how to move.
At eighteen, Lily had learned that lesson the hard way during the Vancouver Olympics, where she held a world downhill seventh ranking. Tragically, she’d crashed on the course and had to be airlifted to a local hospital. Not only did she have a compound fracture of the tibia, but she’d also jarred her back. The injury was called an acute facet spinal joint dysfunction.
After undergoing surgery, she’d been transferred to the University of Utah Hospital in Salt Lake City for expert treatment. Over the months that followed she started to recover, but not without a lot of therapy and a warning that another injury to her spine joint could cause paralysis.
The thought of never being able to walk again warred with her desire to start ski training again. As for getting pregnant one day, her doctor told her that pregnancy might bring on paralysis. That had been the other bad news. She’d discussed it with an obstetrician brought in for consultation, but it wasn’t an issue in the foreseeable future.
At her lowest ebb, her parents had arranged for a psychiatrist while she was undergoing the rest of her therapy. The doctor wanted her to consider the possibility of finding a new career if she decided not to train again for the Olympics.
Though a cowgirl to the core, skiing had become a huge part of her life. She couldn’t comprehend giving up her skis to attend college. After talking it over with her parents, she settled on getting her degree at the university in physiotherapy to help other injured athletes.
Interestingly enough she’d been introduced to hippotherapy on the back of a Missouri Fox Trotter kept on a ranch outside Salt Lake City. Known for its smooth gait for those suffering back pain, she and another patient had been elated with their results and had developed a passion for them during long comfortable rides.
After receiving her postgraduate degree, she returned home to Whitebark at twenty-six and went to work at the hospital. To her amazement, her parents purchased some Trotters they kept and bred on the ranch. She worked out an agreement with the hospital to assist some patients with hippotherapy at the ranch. A day didn’t go by in this job that she didn’t thank heaven for her parents. She could never repay them for all their love and devotion.
They’d arranged to give her an area at the back of the ranch house, where she could see patients young and old who needed this specialized therapy away from Whitebark Hospital. Lily derived a lot of satisfaction from helping injured teens performing in the junior rodeo who’d needed help with their pain before getting back to the sport they loved.
“Dr. Owens?” Her next patient’s greeting from the doorway jarred her from her thoughts.
“Janie—how many times have I told you to call me Lily? I’m not a doctor. I’m a physiotherapist trained to help people overcome movement disorders.”
“You’re a damn good doctor to me!”
Lily chuckled. Janie Waters never minced words. “That’s very nice to hear.”
“It’s the truth. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to work at my job again until you helped me.”
“So you’re honestly doing better?”
“You’d know about it if I weren’t.” She got up on the table with ease and they went through some exercises together.
“I’m thrilled you’re moving so much better.”
“Yup. I’m up to three hours a day at work now.”
When their session was over, her patient got off the table by herself.
“At this rate you’ll be putting in your four hours in another month. Keep up the great work, Janie.”
“I’m thankful for you, girl. See you in a week.”
“You bet ya.”
As Janie left, Lily went through the process of disinfecting the table and washing her hands again.
“Lily?” She swung around to discover Sharon Carter, a nurse from the orthopedic wing of the hospital, had just walked in. “I’ve brought you a new patient. Here’s his file and X-rays. He came in on an emergency. Nothing’s broken, but he’ll need therapy. A word to the wise. He’s upset to have to be in here,” she whispered. “Have fun, anyway.” Her eyes danced.
“What do you mean?” she whispered back, but Sharon had already gone out to wheel her patient into the room.
“This is Ranger Ewing with the US Forest Service at Bridger-Teton,” she announced. “Day before yesterday he was thrown from his horse in the middle of the night and had to wait hours for help. He was flown in by helicopter last evening and will tell you exactly what happened.”
Sharon turned back to the patient and spoke in a soft, placating tone.
“Mr. Ewing? This is Lily, the physiotherapist who’s going to help you get better. After you’ve had your consultation, one of the staff will wheel you back to your room.” She pushed him over to Lily’s desk.
“How soon can I be released?” The man’s deep voice reached right through to Lily’s insides.
“That depends on your therapist’s diagnosis. I will now leave you in her care.” Nodding briefly at them both, she walked out of the room and quietly shut the door behind her.
Lily found herself impaled by a pair of blazing dark brown eyes set in a face bronzed by the sun. He needed a shave and had a bruise on his right cheekbone. However, even in the robe-style blue hospital gown, or perhaps because of it, the blond-haired ranger had the kind of rugged good looks that could blow away every Hollywood heartthrob.
She couldn’t help herself from dropping her gaze to his muscular legs, which were bare below the hem of the gown, at his knees. She saw more bruises running along the side of his right leg. Judging by their length, and the size of his hands grasping the arms of the wheelchair, he had to be at least six foot two of pure rock-solid masculinity. The fact that his huge feet were adorned in hospital slippers only made his male charisma more potent.
She could sense his frustration and impatience. He was hurting, too. Besides the smile lines around his penetrating eyes, the creases around his compelling mouth were undoubtedly there because of pain.
Sucking in her breath, she asked, “Are you taking a painkiller at the moment?”
He lifted his head. In an instant, she felt him take her measure. “Yes.”
“But it’s not working.”
“No.”
“Is that because you’re relying on ibuprofen instead of the drug your doctor prescribed?”
“Are you a mind reader, too?” he growled.
“No. I’ve been where you’ve been and hated to take any kind of medication. I’m afraid I’m the stubborn type, like you. I thought I could handle it.”
“Touché.” One corner of his mouth lifted, changing his demeanor. It was a sin for a man to be this handsome. Sharon’s comment about having fun suddenly made sense.
Well, at least he wasn’t so upset that he couldn’t respond to a little humor.
Lily sat down in her chair. “Tell me what happened.”
“I’d been up at the Crow’s Nest trail doing a fire lookout watch with my partner.”
“You lucky man. I used to go up there on my horse all the time, way above Fremont Lake. In summer there’s no place like it—full of aspen groves, wildflowers and just plain jaw-dropping views.”
“You’re right.” He sounded surprised she knew of it. “The tower sits just above Glimpse Lake. I was on my horse checking out an illegal campfire around two in the morning. After issuing the hunter some fines because, for one thing, he didn’t have a permit to hunt deer, I confiscated his rifle and then ordered him to put out his illegal fire.
“Once he’d packed up his gear, I escorted him back to the tower, where we’d hold him until some more rangers came for him. But halfway there, my horse, Ace, stumbled over a hidden woodchuck burrow. It was so deep, I was thrown to the ground. My horse broke his leg and fell on top of me and the rifle, and was screaming in pain. The hunter took off and disappeared.”
“You mean he just left you?” Lily gasped.
“He couldn’t get away fast enough.”
“I’m so sorry for your injuries.” She shook her head. “And there’s nothing worse than hearing a horse that’s in unbearable agony.”
“It was more excruciating than my own pain.”
“I presume Ace was your close friend.”
He eyed her intently. “Very close. He was amazing. I called headquarters for help because I was in too much pain to walk to the tower. They sent a helicopter with another ranger to take my place. The medics had to walk part way in.
“After a horrendous decision, we put the horse down and I was flown here. My truck and horse trailer are still up there. Among other things, I’ve got to be released so I can go after that hunter and arrest him.”
She shuddered just thinking about it. “I don’t blame you for being impatient. Give me a minute to look at your X-rays.” She reached for the folder to study the film and read the radiologist’s comments. Then she picked up his file.
Porter Ewing, US Forest Service.
Date of birth: June 13. Twenty-seven, single, Caucasian, six-two, 220 pounds.
78 West Juniper Road, Whitebark, Wyoming.
What it didn’t say was that he had male charisma and charm no woman could be immune to.
She put down the file. “Tell me exactly how you fell.”
“I went flying and landed on my right hip and arm. My cheek hit a rock. For a while I couldn’t move, the pain was so bad. Finally with my left hand, I reached for my phone to make the emergency call.”
“Have you tried walking on your own at all?”
“This morning I was wheeled to the shower and helped to stand for the thirty seconds it took.”
“Okay. I’ll wheel you to the bars over there.” She reached in the drawer for a gait belt and walked around behind him. His big, broad shoulders distracted her as she pushed him across the room.
“The first thing I’m going to do is fasten this belt around your waist as a security caution.” She showed him how it worked. “If you’ll sit forward, I’ll lock it.”
He slowly did her bidding. When Lily reached around him, her awareness of him made it hard to concentrate. This wasn’t supposed to happen when she was working with a patient. Not ever. Next, she put on the brake and adjusted the feet of the wheelchair.
“First, I want you to put your feet out flat, like this,” she said, then demonstrated. “Good. Now, when I grip the belt on both sides of you, I want you to bend your knees and rely on your legs to stand. Don’t try to use your back. Once you’re upright, hold on to the bars while I do my exam. Ready?”
“Let’s hope I don’t fall on you.” His eyes held a glint of amusement.
“I’m not worried.” She slipped her hands inside his belt on either side of his body. “Now—one, two, three.”
To her relief he got up with little problem while she gripped the belt, trapping her between him and the bars. At five foot six, she still had to look up a distance and could smell his minted breath.
“That was perfect.” Lily let go of the gait belt and ducked under his strong arms. Standing at his side, she put her arm around his back. “I’m going to start touching you, and want to know the second you feel any pain.”
Lily scrolled down his spine with her fingers like a cursor while she explored.
“I felt you wince, just now.”
“I think that was a reaction to your touch.”
Was he teasing her despite his pain?
She kept going until he made noise. “That gives me an idea of where your trauma is located.” Another inch and he groaned. “X marks the spot, right?”
He nodded while the lines around his mouth deepened.
“That was all I needed to know.” She ducked back under his arms and caught hold of the belt, breathing in the scent of the soap he’d used in the shower. “Remember to bend your legs and slowly sit down.”
It was over in a flash. She undid the belt from around his waist and wheeled him back over to her desk. “Now that I know how I want to proceed, I’ll ask the nurse to bring you back down here later this afternoon, after I’ve seen my last scheduled patient. Have them dress you in hospital pajamas.
“We’ll do a few exercises to start working those muscles. I could tell you to take the stronger painkillers, but I know you won’t. My greatest fear is that a stab of pain when you’re not expecting it could freeze you up. But I’ll let that be on your conscience, not mine.”
He actually chuckled as she picked up the phone and asked the charge nurse on the orthopedic floor to send someone to take Ranger Ewing back to his room.
After she hung up, she caught him staring at her. “How soon will I be discharged from the hospital?”
“When you no longer require someone to help you get up and down, and you can stand and sit on your own without a gait belt,” she answered firmly. “But you’ll need a helper at home for at least a week. Perhaps your boss will give you a desk job you can do for a while.”
“There’s no way. I’ve got to go after that suspect.”
“I don’t blame you for being anxious, Mr. Ewing, but you have to follow through with your therapy. Starting next week, you’ll have to come three times a week for two weeks, then we’ll taper to two sessions a week. By six weeks, I’d like to think you’ll be back to your old self.”
He studied her so thoroughly, her pulse raced. “How long did it take you to recover from your injury?”
She wished she hadn’t called attention to herself. “About four months.”
“Why so long?”
“Part of my recovery was prolonged due to an infection after the surgery,” she explained.
“What happened to you exactly?”
By now, Ron, one of the orderlies, who was a shameless flirt, had come in the room to take their patient back to his floor.
“I was skiing and crashed.”
One eyebrow lifted in surprise. “You ski now?”
“Not anymore. See you this afternoon.”
The orderly started to wheel the ranger out of the room. She heard Ron say, “Good luck trying to get information out of her.” Then his voice grew fainter.
Stop talking, Ron. That was a painful period in her life she didn’t want to remember if she could help it. It was a long time ago, and so many dreams had been shattered. Since coming home to Whitebark, she’d chosen not to look back.
In a minute, her next patient, Mr. Perry, an insurance man who’d fallen while out running, showed up. She sighed. It was going to be a full day since she needed to fit the strikingly handsome forest ranger into her schedule.
Staying busy was the medicine she needed so she wouldn’t think about him. But that was a joke because her visceral reaction to him had been a surprise. The truth was, his nearness had stirred her senses—something that hadn’t happened to her in years. She resented it and would have to be on her guard from now on.
Ron pushed Porter inside his room. “How did it go in physiotherapy?”
Porter didn’t tell him what he thought about Lily, who’d come as such a surprise that he still hadn’t recovered. “I won’t start exercises until later today.”
“The clinic does a great job. While I’m here, do you want me to help you in the bathroom?”
“Please.”
After Porter was wheeled in and out, he was helped into bed and left alone for a few minutes to contemplate his situation.
Since being transferred to Wyoming a year ago from the Adirondacks in New York, where he’d been a forest ranger and state trooper, Porter realized he had landed in the best of all possible worlds. From the start he’d learned to love the Wind River Mountain Range and his assignments. It hadn’t taken long to make the best friends a man could have.
Funny how he’d thought he’d only last a year out here. But three weeks after arriving in Whitebark, he’d texted his mother in response to her query about renting the house. He’d told her he was selling the home in Lake Placid and planned to put roots down here in Wyoming. In his text he added, The Wind Rivers is God’s country west of the Continental Divide and I never want to live anywhere else. I’m putting my roots down here.
His mother had been surprised because she’d deeded the house to him, thinking he’d want it one day. At that point they got on the phone to talk. She assured him he could keep renting the house or do whatever he wanted with it. Since the divorce and her marriage to her new husband, who was a widower and successful businessman, she didn’t need the money from it.
The house, his legacy, had held painful memories for Porter because of his parents’ divorce, and later on, his father’s death. He couldn’t go back to it. Hiring a Realtor to sell the house had been the right thing to do.
Porter knew it held painful memories for her too. It was a reminder of her marriage to his father, when she’d spent ninety percent of the time alone. Because he’d been a ranger and gone so often, she’d lived in a world of isolation. He loved his parents, but they should never have married. Living their lives apart had been no way to live. His mother, who preferred life in town, finally couldn’t deal with it any longer.
From the proceeds of the sale, he’d bought the four-bedroom ranch house with a barn and paddock the guys had found for him here in Whitebark. It had a front lawn and flower beds. He liked the wraparound porch.
Most of all he loved the sight of Gannett Peak—the tallest peak in Wyoming—knifing up 13,804 feet in the thin atmosphere from his front yard. It always took his breath away. If Porter hadn’t been an outdoors enthusiast like his father, he would probably have become a professional mountain climber, perhaps even running a climbing school. In his spare time, he’d probably ski.
The Wind River Mountain Range was Wyoming’s largest, containing more than forty peaks over 13,000 feet. He planned to climb all of them one day and couldn’t believe his luck in being transferred here from the Adirondacks. Though frustrated over the tragic accident that had killed his horse and incapacitated him for a little while, he had no right to complain about his life.
While deep in thought, his buddies walked in. Cole was an elk biologist, Wyatt, a sheep rancher, and Holden, the sheriff for Sublette County, Wyoming. One way or another the four of them had become close friends because of a serial arsonist that had plagued the ranchers of Sublette County last summer. Cole had been ingenious in identifying the culprits while the rest of them had been involved fighting the fires. From then on they’d worked, camped, hiked and skied together.
He was particularly fond of Wyatt’s new wife, Alex. Like Porter, she’d come out to Wyoming from New York, but in her case she’d been sent out here on a magazine assignment. The two had fallen hard for each other, and their attitude about fly over country had been permanently changed.
Three of them, except Holden, were also volunteer firefighters for the Whitebark Fire Department, and all four men had been bachelors. But times had changed since then. Now, Porter was the only one not married and he was feeling it.
His spirits lifted when he saw them. “How did you guys know I was here?”
“News travels fast, buddy. You know that,” Cole said with a smile. “We’re sorry to hear about your accident. I talked to your boss. Stan has sent some rangers to bring your truck and trailer down to your house.”
“I’ll have to thank him for that.”
“We’re sorry about your horse,” Wyatt interjected.
Porter’s eyes closed tightly for a moment. “If you could have heard Ace...he was in so much agony he had to be put down.”
All three men commiserated. “Thank heaven you’re all right and didn’t break any bones.”
“It was a miracle, Holden, but that vagrant needs to be caught. I’ve got to get out of here and go after him.”
Cole sat forward. “I hear you, but the nurse said you’re going to need physiotherapy.”
“I know. It’ll take up some of my time, but I realize it’s necessary. I hurt when I move the wrong way. My first workout will be later in the day.” The guys had no idea how eager Porter was to see Lily again.
“That’s good. We want you back on your feet for the campout we’ve got planned for the Fourth of July next month. Tonight we’ll come over and have dinner with you. Can we bring you anything?”
Porter’s mind was still on the pretty therapist. “Would it be possible if one of you could drop by the ranch house first? I need my laptop and toiletries.”
Wyatt nodded. “Consider it done. Anything else?”
“That’s more than enough.”
An orderly from the kitchen came in the room with his lunch tray. “Why don’t you eat with me?”
Holden stood up first. “I’ve got to get going to the jail, but we’ll be here at dinnertime.”
“Thanks, guys. I owe you.”
After they left, he turned on the TV and ate the chicken-fried steak. He didn’t have to be on a particular diet. The last time he remembered being in a hospital, he was eight years old getting his tonsils out.
Though it would take a long time for him to get over the loss of his horse, he could cope. Plus his day had brightened when he realized he’d be spending time with the hospital’s physiotherapist. She had to be Whitebark’s best-kept secret.
When he thought back over the last year, he couldn’t recall any of his friends or coworkers needing a physiotherapist. There’d been no talk of a gorgeous one working at this hospital. If Porter had a problem, it was going to be his lack of patience before going to his next therapy session.
Maybe the accident had done something to his psyche because he’d never been this attracted to a woman in his life. Porter had dated his share of women back east and here in Whitebark, but what he did for a living was unique.
It would take a special kind of woman who wanted to settle down with him and raise a family in rugged country like this. He hadn’t met a woman who fit the picture he’d always had in his mind.
Until now...
After eating, he made a phone call to Stan Fitzer at headquarters. His boss was the head of the forest service for the Bridger-Teton forest of the Wind Rivers. After giving Stan an update, he watched several documentaries on the Yellowstone volcanic caldera and another on the volcanic eruption on Mt. St. Helens in Washington State. They kept him semi-entertained, but he was counting the minutes until it was time for his first workout.
Like clockwork, Ron came in at four. He helped him into hospital pajamas and supported him into the wheelchair. Then he wheeled him down to the clinic. Since meeting the stunning therapist, Porter wanted to know more about her.
“Do you know why Lily has stopped skiing?” he asked the orderly. His mind was still filled with the vision of her neck-length shimmering black hair—the fragrance had reminded him of the wildflowers she’d gushed about.
“I once tried to find out after one of the nurses told me she wasn’t married, but she keeps to herself.”
“How long have you known her?”
“I started working here six months ago, and she joined the hospital about three months ago,” Ron answered. “But I could never even get to first base with her.”
What man wouldn’t try who still had his sight?
