if Nicole had felt useless. Cooking Adele doctor-recommended foods and coaxing her to eat had made Nicole feel like a member of the team, as if she was doing her part—no matter how small—to help beat back the cancer.
“A baby.” Adjusting to the idea, Adele grinned delightedly. “You do know that, as honorary grandmother, I’m going to spoil the kid rotten?”
“I’m sure she, or he, will learn a lot from you. God knows I have.”
There was no question that Adele would make a wonderful honorary grandmother. But Nicole hoped that by the time her child was born in seven and a half months, Adele would already have plenty of practice with her other grandchildren.
There was a certain kind of soreness Daniel found gratifying—the kind that came from a challenging workout or staying out all night dancing with pretty ladies. As he exited the therapy building Thursday afternoon, he felt sore but upbeat. His physical therapist had not been what he expected. A gorgeous redhead, Sierra Bailey had a face like a porcelain doll and the soul of a drill sergeant.
After explaining the pendulum exercises she wanted him to do at home, she’d warned, “I’ll know if you don’t do them. And there will be hell to pay.”
He believed her. He also believed she was eminently qualified to whip him back into shape. The plan was to start with a regimen that increased his range of motion and flexibility. Strength would come later. Sierra had told him that once he’d regained enough mobility, she’d add biceps exercises. He couldn’t wait to feel like his old self again. He might even spend some extra time at the Roughneck so he could use the ranch’s heated pool for some of his exercises.
As he turned onto the sidewalk that cut through the medical complex toward the parking lot, he spotted a dark-haired woman coming from the other direction. She had a hand against her midsection, and his first thought was that she might be in pain. Then the wind tossed her hair back, away from her face. Nicole Bennett? Unlike the tension he’d glimpsed in her face the other day, now she wore a dreamy expression. She radiated a serenity he wasn’t sure he personally had ever experienced.
“Nicole?” he called.
She looked up, startled. He felt a twinge of guilt for disrupting her moment of peace. “Daniel.” Her voice was breathier than he remembered.
“Did you have an appointment here?” He circled his finger, indicating the horseshoe cluster of buildings that housed medical professionals ranging from orthodontists to podiatrists. Didn’t Nicole live in San Antonio? It seemed odd she would have a doctor in Dallas. Not that it was any of his business.
“Oh.” She blinked. “I, um...”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry. I was just surprised to run into you. I was meeting with my physical therapist for the first time.”
Nicole cocked her head, studying him. “Chris mentioned you were hurt bull riding. Was it bad?” Her dark eyes were still roving over his body, ostensibly checking for injury, but his hormones didn’t seem to care about the platonic reason for her scrutiny. Awareness simmered through him, clouding his thoughts to the point where he could barely remember her question.
“Whoops.” She dropped her gaze. “Guess I’m the one prying now.”
“No, that’s okay. I...” Got distracted. By her eyes. Maybe best not to say that to a near stranger. “My injury was bad enough to need outpatient surgery. I consider myself lucky. Could have been a lot worse. Brock’s living proof of that.” It was ironic, given their many differences, that he and his stepfather had this one thing in common—being knocked on their butts by an ornery bull.
“When I visited Dallas in April, he was in a wheelchair. He’s better now?”
“He’s back on his feet, but I don’t think Julieta’s going to let him enter any more senior rodeos.”
“What about you? Do you plan to get back in the saddle?”
“I haven’t made up my mind, but...probably not.” It was easier to admit that to a virtual stranger than his rodeo-centric family. “I enjoyed competing. I love winning. But I’m ready for something new. I’ve been thinking a lot about my future lately, trying to decide what I want to be when I grow up,” he joked. “Sometimes you reach a point when it’s time to take the next step in your life, you know?”
“I do.” Something flickered in her eyes, and she took a deep breath, as if trying to steady herself.
“Are you okay?” He wouldn’t be surprised if the idea of facing all the Barons this weekend was giving the poor woman an ulcer.
“Absolutely. But I should be getting back to my office.”
“Right. See you Sunday.” He lifted his hand in a brief wave, but it quickly became apparent that, although they’d been coming from opposite directions, they were both headed to the same section of the parking lot. The silence between them as they fell in step frayed his nerves.
He couldn’t help feeling as if Nicole was headed into the lion’s den on Sunday. Growing up on the ranch, he’d had Jacob as an ally. He wanted Nicole to feel she had someone in her corner, too.
“I realize it’s not my place to say this,” he began, “but there’s some history between your employer and the Barons. I don’t want you to be caught in the middle. Adele Black, she...” Now what, genius? The rest of his unfinished sentence was a Pandora’s box he shouldn’t open.
“Adele is their mother,” Nicole said quietly.
His shoulders slumped in relief. “You know.” If it was information she already possessed, then he hadn’t crossed any lines by addressing the subject.
She nodded. “And now you’ve answered my question about whether or not Lizzie and the others know. I was already planning on having a very candid conversation with them, but it’s nice to have an idea of what I’m walking into.” She was back to studying him—this time, searching his gaze with naked curiosity. “I’m surprised you brought it up, though.”
So am I. He’d made it a policy to stay out of discussions about Brock’s first wife. But he hadn’t wanted Nicole to show up at the ranch unprepared. Did that make him disloyal to his stepsiblings? “Well, the Barons can be intense. They—”
“They? Not ‘we’?” She gave him a teasing smile. “Aren’t you a Baron, too?”
“On paper.” Daniel had wondered more than once if his mom had asked Brock to adopt her boys to provide another layer of insulation between them and convicted felon Oscar Burke. No one at their new school would dare bully a Baron. “I mean, my brother, Jacob, and I are technically Barons, but we weren’t born into it. Lizzie and Carly and the others are great. But as kids, with immature sibling rivalry and the awkwardness of meshing two households...”
“I get it. I was a foster kid and lived with some nice families through the years. But even with the ones I felt closest to, they weren’t really my family.”
Hearing about her upbringing made him feel ungrateful. At least he and Jacob had always had a home, always had each other. Who did Nicole Bennett have?
She stopped next to a compact car that sported a decal logo for a well-known rental company. “This is mine, temporarily anyway. Thank you for looking out for me.” She surprised him by reaching out, squeezing his forearm gently. At her touch, a rush of endorphins replaced his earlier soreness. He didn’t know which he was enjoying more—the contact between them or the way she was looking at him. Her admiring expression did more to make him feel like a badass than any rodeo buckle he’d ever won. “I’m glad you’ll be there this weekend, Daniel.”
Something shorted in his brain when she said his name, and he heard himself ask, “Would you like a ride? Sunday, obviously. Not now.” What are you doing?