I can’t handle him, another note complained. I say let this cowboy recover on someone else’s watch.
It had been such a huge blessing when Ruby’s clinical instructor and mentor, Lana Donmeyer, chose to make Ruby a partner in her practice and allow Ruby to open a satellite facility here in Martins Gap. Even if Lana called Ruby “bright and gifted,” to land this type of semi-partnership setup fresh out of school was practically unheard of. Dad’s life insurance money was supposed to be for Mama, not funding a fledgling practice. She’d pay Mama back, even if Mama said her staying close in Martins Gap to help with Grandpa was payment enough.
Luke Buckton could be a landmark patient for her. As a high profile rider, with a high profile injury, getting Luke back on his feet could really launch her career. Even Lana said so. Yes, there was so much history between them. But today was her chance to show that cowboy what she was made of now that six years had gone by.
She’d been full of resolve...until she pulled up to the big house. The sight of the place quickly dissolved into a blur of memories that overthrew her control.
She’d been so happy here.
She’d been so miserable here.
A quick look around as she got out of the car revealed no one but “Granny B” standing on the house’s big porch. Ruby found herself telling her limbs to get out of the car.
“Ruby,” came Adele Buckton’s warm voice as she hobbled down off the porch. “My stars, but it’s Ruby Sheldon.”
“Hi, Granny B.” The words belonged to some eighteen-year-old version of herself, young and squeaky. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t crossed paths over the years, small as Martins Gap was, but neither of them could pretend this was anything but awkward and difficult.
“Look at you.” Her gaze fell to the folder in Ruby’s hand. “You’re here for Luke.” Somehow Granny B made the simple statement sound as complex as it truly was.
“Yes, ma’am.” She wished for something more clever to say, but came up short.
Ruby had always liked Granny B—the Buckton children all called her “Gran” but everyone else in town called her “Miss Adele” or “Granny B.” The old woman had been as much of an anchor as Luke ever had in high school. Luke and his dad locked horns on a near constant basis, and Luke’s mom had passed when he was eleven. Though he had three siblings—including a twin—they’d all pretty much been born with one foot out the door. Granny B had been the one responsible for anything that felt homey and welcoming about this place.
When Luke left town after graduation, Ruby had wanted—expected, actually—for Granny B to show up and make sense of how Luke broke things off. She’d always been so sure either Granny B or Luke’s twin sister, Tess, would appear on her doorstep and explain why the boy she loved both left her and left Martins Gap without a backward glance. It had never happened.
Granny B’s gaze lifted over Ruby’s head to settle on the guesthouse behind them. Ruby turned to see the guesthouse door open up. The figure of Luke Buckton stood in half shadow behind the screen door.
“I’d best leave you to it, then,” Gran was saying behind her.
Ruby’s heart twisted and surged and stung all at the same time. A hollowed-out panic, an empty awareness froze her chest—all feelings that made no sense but surrounded her anyway as she stared at him.
He was just like the ranch—familiar yet different. The eyes were still their spell-binding blue—“Buckton blue,” everybody called it—but now they were framed by tight features. His wild-boy hair still tumbled around that strong jaw, only now the jaw was roughened with a man’s stubble. Luke had filled out into a man’s body, lean and hard-edged, but even his defiant stance didn’t quite conceal the hint of uncertainty that made him favor one leg. How he could be the boy of her memory and a stranger before her at the same time made Ruby’s mind spin.
“Ruby.” His voice, somehow octaves deeper now, held more challenge than welcome. “Why are you here?”
It was an absurd question—they both knew why she was here. His prickly tone held the faintest hint of the dismissive words he’d flung at her the night he told her he was leaving. Not just Martins Gap, but her as well.
The tone snapped something to life in her, resurrecting all the anger against him she’d swallowed down over the years. It was helpful—clearing her head and straightening her spine, giving her the composure to calmly call his bluff. “You need help.”
Need and help weren’t in Luke Buckton’s vocabulary back then, and she doubted he was friendly with the concepts now.
She’d read the file. No one really knew what level of functionality Luke Buckton would get back from his left leg. Such injuries were unpredictable.
“Well, now, that’s a matter of opinion,” Luke replied as he flexed one hand against the doorknob. Rather flippant for someone in his position—but then again, that tactic had been a Luke Buckton specialty.
“No,” she retorted, “I’d say that’s a medical fact.” When she saw the edge in his eyes give just a little, she pressed further. “Whether or not you’re man enough to accept it...well, I expect that is a matter of opinion.”
She’d never have spoken like that to any other patient, but no one could call Luke Buckton “any other patient.” She heard Granny B mutter something that sounded approving and the big house door shut behind her.
Luke looked at her with an almost amused disdain, as if some uppity puppy had taken to yapping at one of the thousand-pound bison that were raised on the ranch. A “don’t you know who you’re dealing with?” warning glare. Frustration made people hard and sour, especially those for whom weakness was an unforgivable sin. She knew that his frustration was why he’d pushed away the other therapists, and it told her he was that frightened he wouldn’t heal. And yet despite their history, he hadn’t tried to hire in a therapist from Austin, even when he knew Ruby was the only option left in town. Which meant that while he’d never admit to it, he’d decided he needed her.
He’d done exactly the same thing in high school when they’d met as she tutored him in algebra. That boy had gone all “I don’t need you” when she was the only thing standing between him and failing out his senior year.
Begrudgingly needing her had turned into respecting her, had turned into liking her, had turned into—she’d thought—loving her. That boy had made her feel pretty and full of possibility...only to turn around months later and declare her not pretty enough and without enough potential to follow him to rodeo stardom.
She suddenly realized it had been half a minute or so, and neither of them had spoken.
Luke shifted his weight again. It dawned on Ruby that while she could wait all day for this standoff to end, he could not. He’d been injured, and badly. He may be in possession of all the bravado, but she was in possession of the solution—if there was one.
“This won’t work,” he said under his breath but still loud enough for her to hear. How many times had she heard those words during Luke’s tirades about algebra and graduation requirements?
The remark revealed just how much he needed this to work. He hadn’t changed: the more he needed it, the less he’d act like he did. She could see it, clear as day, because sensing things about patients was her gift.
She did have a gift. The bravest, strongest version of herself looked Luke straight in the eye. She clutched her file and took a step toward him. “Won’t work, huh? Prove it.”
The red scarf didn’t suit her.
It was a weird thought to have, given the drama of seeing the girl you’d loved and left after so much time, but that was the first thing that went through his mind.