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All his life he and Wyatt had been known as Sally Gentry’s bastard kids. Still, that hadn’t been as bad as when they were ten years old and Earl Keys came into their mother’s life. He’d convinced her that he’d make a good home for her and her boys. The truth was, Keys only wanted free laborers for his rough-stock business. Every summer both he and Wyatt had worked the rodeo circuit. During the school year, they’d lived on the man’s Arizona ranch, but the work hadn’t been any easier. Just as soon as the two had turned eighteen, they were gone.
No, neither Randell nor Keys were the best examples of what a father should be. Dylan had no doubt he’d inherited a few bad genes. He’d traveled the circuit and he was damn good at whatever he tried, starting out calf roping with Wyatt. Later, he’d discovered the excitement of bull riding. And the money for his talent and all the endorsements hadn’t been bad, either. He was somebody. Then.
He rubbed his leg. Now he was a cripple.
A knock sounded on his bedroom door, then it opened. Brenna stepped just inside. She’d changed into a pair of jeans and blouse that had his juices flowing once again.
“Are you hungry?” she asked. “Or you going to stay in here all night and pout?”
“I’m not pouting,” he insisted. “I’m just tired.”
She came farther into the room. “You’re in good shape. And your stamina has increased, so we can go longer, starting tomorrow.”
“What if I don’t want to go longer?”
She crossed her arms. “Look, Dylan, we agreed to a work schedule. If I let you slide now, you’ll never get back on your feet. If you’re worried about what happened with the cramps, we can work on that.”
This woman was unbelievable. “I can handle the cramps.” It’s you I can’t seem to handle, he thought silently.
“Good, because more than likely they’ll return. But I can help. There’s the whirlpool bath and I can give you a massage.”
He tensed. Oh yeah, that was going to help a lot.
Brenna just stood there for a few more moments.
“Is there something else you want?” he asked.
“Staying closed up in here isn’t good for you, Dylan. Not when you’re used to having people around.”
“I don’t have a problem with it.”
“As your therapist, I do. Your sister-in-law called and asked if you want to come up to the house for dinner.”
Oh boy, the whole family all at once. He thought about Wyatt and the way he’d handled things earlier.
“If you are worried about the children, I know little Kelly would love to get to know you better.”
“I’m not good with kids.”
“Kelly is female. No matter what her age, I bet you can have her charmed in minutes.” Brenna wrinkled her nose and Dylan knew she was trying to hide a smile.
“If I’m so good with the ladies, how come it hasn’t worked on you?”
Her easy laughter filled the room. “I don’t think you’ve been trying to charm me, only drive me away. Besides, I’m not a lady. I’m your therapist.”
Ooh, she was definitely a lady. “Just out of curiosity, what would it take to get your…attention?”
“More than sweet words…or a cocky smile. I have three brothers, and they’ve inherited a bit of the blarney along with their Irish genes.” She sobered. “Besides, I learned a long time ago to believe only half of what men say, and the other half is probably exaggerated.”
“Whoa, someone must have done you wrong, lady.” He scooted to the edge of the bed and placed his legs on the floor. “Who was he? Want me to go beat him up?”
A sadness transformed her face. “His name was Jason. And you can’t beat him up…he’s dead.” She started to leave, when Dylan reached out and grabbed her arm. She pulled away as tears formed in her eyes.
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” The urge to take her into his arms and hold her was overwhelming.
“It’s okay.” She moved toward the door. “I guess if you aren’t going to your brother’s for dinner then I better fix you something.”
He shook his head. “No, don’t cook, Brenna. We’re going to supper at Wyatt’s.”
“I’ll help you get there,” she said, “but it would be better if you go to dinner on your own.”
“Look, for the past week we’ve been living in pretty close quarters. And it’s been hard to stay out of each other’s business, much less their space. I’ve let you handle me at will, strap me in contraptions, and cause me considerable pain. Now, I’d say you owe me. Please, go with me.”
She hesitated. “Okay, but don’t think you’re going to get your way all the time.”
He wanted his way, all right. With her. “I’ll take what I can get.” He got to his feet. “Give me ten minutes to shower.” Using his crutches, he grabbed some underwear and a pair of jeans from the bureau drawer.
“You be sure to use the bench in the tub,” she warned.
“Or what? You’re coming in and joining me?” He grinned. “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.”
He watched her blush, but she didn’t back down. “Be careful, remember I can hurt you.”
He wasn’t thinking pain, only pleasure as he headed off to the shower, a cool one. And for the first time in a long while, it was good to feel alive.
Fifteen minutes later they were both seated in one of the golf carts that belonged to the Mustang Valley Guest Ranch. With Brenna behind the wheel, they headed up to the main house. That was the easy part. The three steps to the porch were much more of a challenge to Dylan.
“You’re getting to be pretty good with those crutches,” Brenna said.
“Now, who’s trying to charm who?” he asked, trying to relax his labored breathing.
“If that’s what it takes, I’ll do my part.”
He smiled, enjoying the easiness between them. “Just how far will you go, Ms. Brenna?”
Even under the porch light, he could see she was flustered, but before she could give a retort the door opened and Kelly appeared. The child looked a little apprehensive, then relaxed seeing Brenna. “Hi, Unca Dylan,” she said. “Hi, Brenna.”
“Hello, Kelly,” Brenna said, and she pulled open the screen door allowing Dylan to go in first. Then she followed.
Dylan’s gaze swept around the huge sunny-yellow kitchen. There were pine cabinets and white-tiled countertops. At the stainless-steel stove, his sister-in-law stood cooking. His brother had always talked about having a home. It looked as if he’d gotten his wish.
Maura turned and smiled. “Dylan and Brenna, I’m so glad you both came.”
“Thank you for inviting us,” Brenna said.
Maura walked over to greet them, surprising Dylan with a hug. Then she stood back and gave him the once-over. “Well, look at you, Dylan, getting around so well.” She turned to Brenna. “Thank you for helping him.”
“Oh, Dylan is the one who did the work,” she insisted. “I only gave him a little push now and then.”
“Using a bulldozer,” Dylan said, and they all laughed.
The sound of voices drew their attention to the doorway where Wyatt and seven-year-old Jeff walked into the room. He and Wyatt weren’t identical twins, Dylan thought, struck once again by their differences, but they were pretty close, with the same height and build. Their hair color was the same, but their eyes were different—his brother’s were blue while his were more gray. Wyatt was the more sensible one. Dylan had always been attracted to trouble.
The young boy’s face lit up. “Wow, Dad, Uncle Dylan came.”
Wyatt smiled. “Yes, son, I’d say he did.” He walked up to Dylan. “Glad you could make it, bro.”
“I didn’t have much choice,” Dylan lied as he leaned on his crutches. “This was the only way to get a taste of Maura’s meat loaf. You’ve certainly bragged about it enough.”
“Well, come and sit down,” Wyatt coaxed. “Dinner shouldn’t be too long. Would you like something to drink? Soda? Iced tea? Milk?”
“Iced tea sounds good.”
“I’ll get it.” Jeff ran to the refrigerator, then came back with a full glass. “Uncle Dylan, Dad said you’re the best bull rider in the world.”
A sadness moved through him, but he pushed it aside and smiled at his nephew. “Well, I had won the national championship, but someone else won the title this year.”
“I told Benny Roberts you did, but he said that I’m lyin’ ‘cause you aren’t really my uncle.”
A strange protectiveness came over Dylan. “I guess you just have to prove him wrong. As soon as I locate my things, I’ll dig up one of my championship buckles and you can show him.”
“Oh, wow!” His eyes rounded. “Can I, really?”
Dylan ruffled the boy’s hair. “Yes, you really can.”
A smiling Jeff went to his seat across the table, next to Kelly. The little girl looked like her mother, pretty as a picture. When he winked at her, her face lit up with a smile, and a funny feeling circled Dylan’s heart.
Brenna leaned toward him. “I think you got yourself a couple of new fans here.” She looked him in the eye and whispered, “You’ve still got it, Dylan ‘The Devil’ Gentry.”
Chapter Three
Two hours later, Wyatt walked Brenna and Dylan out to the porch. She noticed he was careful not to hover too close to his brother, letting him move by himself. Although tired, Dylan seemed to want to show off and made easy work of getting down the steps and into the golf cart.
“Thank Maura again for the great meal,” Dylan said.
“Anytime,” Wyatt said. “And if you’ll let me know where your national championship buckle is, I could get it.”
“Impossible. It’s in my trailer and that’s parked in Arizona.”
Wyatt shook his head. “No, it’s here,” he said. “So is Cheyenne Gold.”
Dylan tensed. “You brought my trailer and horse here?”
Wyatt glanced at Brenna, then back at his brother, and nodded. “Yeah. You spent so much time in the hospital, and since you were coming here anyway… I thought you might need your things close by. No sense you paying a fortune to store your trailer and board your horse. Here it’s free.”
Brenna got in the cart, feeling more than the January chill. There was new tension between the brothers.
“We should get back,” she suggested. “You two can hash this out when it’s warmer. Wyatt, thank Maura again.” She pressed her foot on the pedal and they shot off down the path.
Once at the cottage, Dylan got out without her help and went up the single step with ease. Inside, he started toward the bedroom, but Brenna caught up with him.
“Dylan, why don’t you watch television out here? The screen is bigger. We could put a movie in the VCR.”
“I don’t feel like a movie.”
“Then stay and talk?” She should keep out of this situation, but this situation could interfere with her patient’s recovery. “I can fix some coffee.”
“I know what you’re trying to do, Brenna, but it isn’t going to work. I’m mad as hell. So let me be.”
She took hold of his arm and got a fierce look as his silver-blue eyes locked on her.
Somehow she managed to find her voice. “No. Not until you tell me what was so bad that it ruined the end of an enjoyable evening with your family.”
“I didn’t ruin it, my brother did.”
Brenna watched as he started to pace a path to the door then back again. “Tell me what he did that was so terrible.”
“What Wyatt has always done for the past thirty-one years—try to run my life. He’s older than me by five minutes, and believe me, he has let me know it all our lives. He’s always felt he knows what’s best for me. Just like my coming to the ranch. I agreed to stay here, only until I recovered from my injuries. But he still couldn’t leave things alone. It was his idea to get a therapist. I never wanted one. I just wanted to be left alone.
“Now he thinks he had the right to drag my trailer and horse here. Without asking me, I might add. He’s just looking for a way to keep me here permanently.”
Why did Dylan’s words hurt so much? Brenna had known from the beginning that he didn’t want a therapist. Over the past week, he’d gotten past that and had accepted her, but hearing the bitterness in his voice now she wasn’t so sure. Her own anger flared. She’d be damned if she’d stay where she wasn’t wanted.
“You’re right, Dylan,” she agreed. “Your brother had no right to push you into anything you didn’t want. At least one of your problems can be easily solved.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Which one’s that?”
Her chest was tight. “Your therapist. I’ll have my bags packed and be gone in thirty minutes.”
He had blown it big-time.
Dylan knocked on Brenna’s bedroom door, but she didn’t answer. He knocked again. “Brenna, can we talk?”
No answer.
“Please, Bren. You misunderstood. Open the door and let me explain.”
No answer.
He couldn’t let her leave, not like this, not at all. He tried the door. It was unlocked. He pushed it open slightly to notice a suitcase on the bed and Brenna placing her clothes inside. “Brenna, will you stop? I don’t want you to leave.”
She didn’t look up. “You said you didn’t want me.”
“I was only angry with Wyatt for how he’d manipulated me. How he’s always been able to get me to do what he wants.”
“I don’t think he put you on top of that bull, or caused your accident.”
“Of course he didn’t. But it’s a fact that he wanted me here. He wanted me as his partner in this ranch, wanted me to meet the Randells and become part of one big happy family.”
She paused and glared at him. “And you want me to sympathize with you for what again?”
“Okay, so it isn’t a capital offense. But he won’t butt out of my life.”
“It’s called being part of a family,” she retorted. “Deal with it, Gentry. Not everything is always about you. Don’t you know that your brother loves you? He’s trying to help you the only way he knows how. And all you’ve done is to get angry and be disagreeable.”
“I agree,” he admitted.
“And blame everyone else for your misfortune,” she continued, not hearing him.
“Hey, I said I agree.”
“You may be used to getting everyone’s attention while you’re perched on a bull, Dylan Gentry, but there are others to consider now.”
She had scraped off another layer of his hide. “What do you want?” he asked. “My blood? I said you’re right.”
She stared at him. “I am?”
“Yes. I’ve been a rotten bastard. Hard to live with and worse to deal with.” He sank down to the edge of the bed and looked at her. “Now, will you stay? Will you help me change? Help me walk again?”
Brenna was caught off guard by his sudden change. But from day one this man had had a tendency of doing just that…and more. If she was smart, she’d take this opportunity to get far, far away. But she couldn’t. She knew she could help him get back on his feet, help give him back a life. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be on the back of a bull.
“What about your brother?” she asked. “I think you two need to sit down and work this out.”
“We will,” he promised. “So, you’ll stay and continue my therapy?”
Brenna told herself that it was only for the money, for her baby. “I’ll stay.”
He grinned at her and she nearly melted to the floor. She was in deep trouble if she didn’t find a way to shield her heart from this man.
Early mornings had been Dylan’s time. Over the past ten days he’d been pushing himself as hard as he could with the weights and on the parallel bars. In ten days, he’d not only changed his attitude but increased his strength. He had more energy now, more stamina.
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