A Bull Rider's Pride Page 7

  “THIS IS A SURPRISE,” Gracie said as Sheila entered the Dance of Hope office carrying a platter full of heart-shaped cookies. “You baked! Oh, you shouldn’t have.”

  “I was too wound up from work last night.” Sheila set the cookies on the desk and gave her best friend a hug. “Besides, that makes up for the Fourth of July cookies I didn’t have a chance to make.”

  “Are you here to see anyone in particular?” Gracie peeled back the plastic wrap and removed a cookie. “These smell insanely incredible.” She took a bite. “Perfect as always.”

  “Why would you think I was here to see somebody particular?” Sheila wondered how anyone could possibly know she had a slight attraction—emphasis on slight—for Brady. She hadn’t said anything to anyone.

  “Pardon the lame cliché, but why do you look like you just got caught with your hand in the cookie jar?” Gracie narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing is going on.” Sheila snatched one of the cookies and popped the entire thing into her mouth, almost choking.

  Gracie laughed, patting her on the back. “Are you all right? Here.” She grabbed a bottle of water from the small office refrigerator, twisted off the cap and handed it to Sheila. “Drink this.”

  Sheila swallowed, embarrassed by her stupidity. “Thank you. That’s what I get for eating so fast. I haven’t had a chance to get dinner yet.”

  “I’m starved. Do you have time to grab a bite to eat or do you already have other plans?” Gracie asked.

  “I’m free and I’m off for the rest of the night and tomorrow.”

  “Even better.” Gracie handed Sheila the platter and grabbed her bag and keys. “I’m assuming the cookies are for everyone and not just me.”

  “I’ll make you and Thomas your own special tray of cookies next week.” Sheila followed her to the door.

  “Let’s drop these off in the cafeteria first,” Gracie said. “We haven’t had a night out in a long time, if you don’t mind stopping by the house so I can shower quick and change. I look and smell horsey. Are you sure you didn’t have any plans because you seem dressed to go out.”

  Sheila glanced down at her clothes. She’d chosen the outfit this morning knowing she’d stop by the ranch after work. She’d sorted through dozens of combinations before deciding on dark indigo jeans and a gauzy navy blue short-sleeved blouse with a white spaghetti strap tank top underneath. It was casual. It could even be considered business casual. Well, maybe minus the long gold chain and large pink quartz teardrop pendant. And maybe the gold bangles and long dangling earrings were a bit more than one would normally wear to the ranch to drop off cookies.

  “Nope, I’m as free as they come.” She didn’t feel free. She felt desperate. Who else planned the perfect outfit just to drop off cookies at a place she’d visited a hundred times before.

  “Do you feel up for Slater’s Mill?”

  “Slater’s sounds great,” Sheila said. No it didn’t. She’d been on her feet most of the night before, making cookies and then all day at the hospital. The last thing she wanted to do was go to a honky-tonk to eat dinner and dance. She wanted to see Brady. She’d purposely stopped by at dinnertime so she could eat in the cafeteria. That plan had backfired.

  She spotted him the moment they walked through the door. Brady was sitting at a table with another couple and a child in a wheelchair. His eyes met hers as she crossed the room. He lifted his chin in her direction and smiled. A megawatt smile that made her heart flutter as if she were a teenager at her first dance. She wanted to wave. But she didn’t. She wanted to go over and say hello. But she didn’t do that either. Instead, she stood in the center of the room with a tray of cookies in her hands, staring awkwardly at him.

  “Are your feet glued to the floor?” Gracie asked.

  “What? No, of course not.” She took the cookies to the main buffet table and uncovered them. “Is that a new arrival sitting with Brady Sawyer?”

  “Ethan Fisher. He came today—reluctantly. Brady has been wonderful with him. He’s been by his side for most of the day.”

  “Really? Does Brady know them?” Sheila asked.

  “No. According to Kay, Ethan is a city boy and was afraid of the horses along with being scared of his own prognosis. He has MS.”

  Another unfortunate child. “I hate to see that. I hate seeing it in adults, but it’s even harder to see a child suffer with it. I read a paper the other day about the advances with hippotherapy and MS.”

  “There’s Thomas.” Gracie waved to her husband across the room. “Go over and say hello if you want. I’m just going to tell Thomas not to expect me until later.”

  “Why would I say hello to Brady?”

  “I was talking about introducing yourself to Ethan and his family, but considering Brady is your patient that would be polite. What is with you tonight?”

  “Nothing.” Sheila rummaged through her bag for her phone. “You go talk to Thomas. I have to make a quick phone call.”

  “Your phone call will have to wait. Here comes Brady.”

  “Why is he coming over here?” Sheila dropped her bag on the floor and quickly bent to pick it up.

  “You’re jumpier than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” Gracie looked from Sheila to Brady and back. “No. You can’t be. Are you involved with him?”

  “No! Of course not.” Sheila tugged at the bottom of her blouse.

  “Mmm-hmm. Just be careful. I can’t see the hospital looking too favorably upon that relationship,” Gracie warned. “I’ll be back in a minute.

  Sheila contemplated making a run for the door, but she had a feeling Brady would be right behind her. The hallway had been empty when they entered the cafeteria a few minutes ago. It was much safer to talk to Brady in a room full of people than alone in the hallway.

  “Hi,” Sheila said.

  “Hi yourself.” Brady’s slow Texas drawl made her warm all over. “You look very pretty. Hot date?” He winked.

  “Gracie and I are heading into town for dinner.”

  “I wish I could join you.”

  “I wish you could too.” The words flew out of her mouth before she even knew she was thinking them. “I—I mean. I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I can’t say that. Forget I said that.” Sheila tapped her foot. How long did it take Gracie to tell her husband she was going out?

  “I get to you, don’t I?”

  Sheila stared at him. “Wow. You’ve become very brazen overnight.”

  “Well, things have changed. You might not be my doctor for much longer.”

  “Why? Are you replacing me?” Sheila’s fluttering heart now felt as if it was slamming into her rib cage.

  “Nah.” Brady reached out for her hands. Without even thinking, she took them as he slowly rose to stand before her. “As much as I love holding your hands, I feel confident enough to let go.” Brady was less than a few inches from her. If she inhaled deep enough, her breasts would scrape the front of his shirt. She looked up at him, reveling in his masculinity. His broad shoulders made her want to rest her head against them and snuggle in the crook of his neck. “See, Doc. My legs are barely shaking. I’ve been waiting to show you.”

  Sheila quickly remembered where they were. She took a step back and scanned Brady’s body. His legs were straight, his hips even, his shoulders back. He was right...there was very little movement in his legs.

  “That’s wonderful.” Sheila smiled at the grand gesture he’d just made in front of the entire cafeteria. “How long are you able to stand?”

  “A few minutes is my limit.” Brady returned her smile and lowered himself into his chair. “I found a walker in my room and started using it yesterday, but I’ve been practicing my standing since I arrived at Dance of Hope.”

  “Maybe you won’t need me much
longer after all.” Sheila was glad to see his recovery progressing. He deserved to move on with his life.

  “I’ll still need you, just not as my doctor.”

  Sheila jumped at the sound of Gracie clearing her throat behind her.

  “I think you’ll do just fine on your own, Mr. Sawyer,” Sheila said. “I’ll check in on you during my next rounds. If you need anything, you can reach me at the hospital.”

  If Gracie was concerned about her relationship with Brady, she kept it to herself. Sheila knew it was wrong—so wrong—to love the way he’d just made her feel. Everyone wanted to feel needed. It was that much better when you heard the words. Brady would still need her. She’d allow herself to enjoy it, if only for a moment.

  Chapter Six

  Sheila had visited Dance of Hope five of the past eight days. It was perfectly normal. It was the middle of July, a few of her friends either lived or worked on the Bridle Dance Ranch and what better way to spend the summer than outdoors having fun? The hippotherapy center was on the ranch, so she found it perfectly acceptable to stop in and say hello to her patients. She hadn’t had any in-depth conversations with Brady and there were days when she hadn’t seen him at all. Okay...one day, but who was counting?

  She was.

  Sheila parked her car in Dance of Hope’s lot. Cutting the engine, she rolled her shoulders in a weak attempt to banish the stress she’d created for herself. She’d turned into one of those people she despised. She ran into them frequently at the hospital. A nurse who went out of her way to run into a doctor she lusted after. A friend with a secret crush who found every excuse under the sun to drop by a patient’s room to bring them something they might need. And then there were the girlfriends and boyfriends of new interns who didn’t quite understand that their significant others’ long hours were due to their jobs and not an affair. Yep, she’d become an excuser, as they were commonly referred to at the hospital. And she’d found her own excuse to visit.

  Excusers were the butt of jokes and Sheila could officially add her name to the list. She tried telling herself that it was all right since she’d managed to keep her conversations with Brady strictly professional. She asked him how he was feeling, double-checked his progress with his physical therapists and moved on to the next patient. Maybe she didn’t factor in watching him from afar or catching him watching her out of the corner of her eye, but looking never hurt anyone. As long as she wasn’t caught.

  She stepped out of the car. This afternoon, Sheila had legitimate appointments at Dance of Hope. Brady was on her list—the bottom of the list. The reports she’d received from all of his therapists reiterated his desire to compete again. She admired his drive and determination, knowing he’d continue to push his body to the limit. Every bone, every muscle, every ligament had a breaking point and she feared Brady would push himself past that point.

  Sheila checked her watch. It was a little past one. She had a few hours to complete her rounds before she would chastise herself for staying longer than necessary just to spend time with the man she couldn’t have. After swinging by the main office, she made her way to the outdoor hippotherapy corrals.

  In under a second, Sheila zeroed in on Brady...formfitting jeans and all. He was standing and leaning—not bracing himself against, but leaning—on the fence rails. She scanned the area behind him for his wheelchair and noticed it had been replaced with a combo walker-wheelchair. A grammar-school-aged girl rode by on her hippotherapy horse. Each time she passed, Brady waved his hat in the air and cheered her on. The hat was new. Sexy too.

  “He’s wonderful with children.” Kay Langtry gave her a welcoming hug.

  “I’ve noticed him offering support to a few people this past week.”

  “It’s so much more than that,” Kay said. “He has a way of relaxing our new residents, especially those who haven’t been on a horse before. He sat with the parents of one child for a long time last week, reassuring them he would bring his own child here if the need ever arose. In fact, his little Gunner has made friends with quite a few of our hippotherapy children. I wish Brady wasn’t so gung ho to get back on top of a bull again. I’d hate to see something happen to him.”

  Brady slowly made his way to the corral gate with the aid of his walker as the young rider dismounted with assistance from her therapists. She hobbled to Brady on crutches, stopping to give him a high five before continuing to her parents. This was why Sheila had become a physician—to improve people’s quality of life. Nonprofits like Dance of Hope did the same. And then there was Brady. An extraordinary team had put him back together and he planned to risk it all as soon as she gave him the all clear.

  Even knowing what he planned to do once he left Dance of Hope, watching him with the children made her warm and fuzzy all over. Sheila wasn’t a warm-and-fuzzy person. She cut into people and put them back together for a living. She was a blood-and-guts person. Warm and fuzzy weren’t even part of her vocabulary, yet Brady turned her insides to mush every time he looked at her.

  “Am I detecting a crush on our Mr. Sawyer?” Kay nudged her playfully.

  Sheila fought a smile, but her lips betrayed her. She could deny it all she wanted to everybody under the sun, but she found it impossible to fib to Kay Langtry.

  “It’s not that simple,” Sheila began. “It’s one thing to admire him from afar, but I can never act on it. He might be tempting, but he’s off-limits.”

  “What if he wasn’t?” Kay asked.

  She’d asked herself that same question many times. “I can’t answer a hypothetical question like that. I’m a scientist—I rely on facts and figures. Besides, it doesn’t matter. Even if he weren’t my patient any longer, the hospital would consider any personal involvement with Brady an ethics violation. They’re pretty strict about those things. It opens them up to lawsuits. I’m not going to risk my career for him.”

  “I’ve seen the way he watches you. I’d say the feelings were mutual.”

  Sheila knew they were. He had subtly—and not so subtly—implied his feelings a few times. “That’s not helping, Kay. It’s complicated.”

  “It shouldn’t be. We can’t help who we fall in love with.”

  Love? Who said anything about love? “We definitely have not fallen in love with one another. You can’t fall in love with somebody you don’t know. And we’re virtual strangers. Although, every day I come here I seem to learn something new about him.”

  “I’ve noticed you have been coming around much more frequently,” Kay persisted. “We used to see you once a week. Now you’re here every other day, sometimes two or three days in a row. That didn’t happen before Brady came along.”

  “I have friends here.” That was the truth.

  “Yes, and you’re always welcome.” Kay squeezed Sheila’s hand. “But I haven’t seen you visit your friends this much before.”

  “What are you trying to tell me?” Sheila wasn’t sure she even wanted Kay to answer.

  “I’m not trying to tell you anything, dear. Far be it for me to get involved in your affairs—I mean business.”

  “Oh no, you would never do that.” Sheila wrapped an arm around Kay’s shoulder.

  “Sometimes we’re presented with a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” Kay walked with her. “Taking it may drastically change your life. Not exploring the opportunity can have an equal if not more detrimental effect. Just something to chew on.”

  Chew on? “That’s a whole lot of thought for one mouthful,” Sheila said.

  “I don’t want to keep you from your rounds. If I don’t see you before you leave, have a wonderful night.” Kay ducked through the back door of the hippotherapy indoor arena, her matchmaking mission complete for the day.

  “You too,” Sheila called after her, but the door had already closed.

  She began to smooth the front of her shirt when sh
e realized she’d done it again. Although she tried to tell herself otherwise, every outfit she picked out was for Brady. But it shouldn’t be. He—they—couldn’t be. She was marching down the sidewalk in the direction of the physical therapy room when she heard her name. She inhaled sharply at the sound of his voice, but continued to walk. She felt his presence close behind her and since she knew it wasn’t a medical emergency, she needed to keep walking for sanity’s sake.

  “Sheila!” The sound of the soft tires of his wheelchair rolled up behind her. He had the speed advantage. “Sheila, wait up.”

  She spun to face him. “Mr. Sawyer, you’re interrupting my rounds.”

  “I’m one of your patients, see me first.” He beamed.

  “That’s a bit forward of you.” True, but still forward. “If I see you now, I won’t come back and see you later.”

  “Yes you will.” He lifted his chin in defiance.

  “Excuse me?” Now he was a bit too presumptuous, despite the dimples that deepened as his smile grew. I will not be swayed by dimples.

  “You’ve been avoiding me all week.”

  “No I haven’t. I’ve said hello and we’ve had a conversation or two.”

  “A passing ‘hello, how are you?’ does not constitute a conversation,” Brady said. “You’re my doctor. You’re supposed to give me the utmost care.”

  “That’s right, Mr. Sawyer. I’m your doctor.”

  Brady’s eyes widened as he no doubt realized he had just backed himself into a corner. “So that means we can’t be friends?”

  Sheila pursed her lips, debating how to answer. It was an honest question. Maybe not so innocent, but it was definitely honest. And it deserved an answer. “In my profession it’s very difficult for a doctor to befriend a patient. Especially a patient of the opposite sex. I’m not saying it’s not done, I’m saying it’s difficult.”

  “Nothing worth having is ever easy,” Brady countered.

  “I wouldn’t say that. If I won a new car, it would definitely be worth having.”

  “I like your car.” Brady glanced behind him and then leaned forward. “It has a very cozy front seat.”