Page 13 of Second Chance With a Cowboy

He closed the door behind her then scooped Max up into his arms. “Don’t worry, bud. Your mom is gonna be fine. And I know she wouldn’t want you to worry. How about we get you a drink of water then I’ll read you a book before you go back to bed.”

Max wrinkled his nose as he pondered the idea then held up two fingers. “Two books?”

Chevy squinted at him as if he were considering the negotiation. “Okay.Threebooks. But that’s my final offer.”

Max giggled. “Deal.”

The memories washed over her as Leni climbed into Chevy’s truck. It wasn’t the same one they used to ride around intogether—this one was newer—but it still smelled the same. Like him. A heady mixture of warm leather, sunbaked dirt, a hint of horse blanket, and the woodsy scent of his cologne.

A shiver ran through her, and she wrapped the sides of his shirt around her. The flannel smelled like him too and only fueled more memories.

Shoving the memories down, she reached to start the truck and noticed the rust-colored blood dried across her wrist and up her arm. Stifling a cry, she scrubbed at the blood with the sleeve of Chevy’s shirt. She knew what he did on the ranch and was sure this faded flannel had seen worse than a spatter of dried blood.

Pull it together, girl.

She sat up in the seat, pushed her shoulders back and inhaled a deep breath. She had no idea why the hell Chevy Lassiter had walked into their house at the exact moment that she needed him, but he was right about one thing. Lorna needed her now.

And shecoulddo this.

She put the truck in drive and then spent the whole ten-minute drive repeating the phrase, “Please God, let Lorna be okay.”

Leni might be the big sister, but she counted on Lorna for so many things. And her kids needed their mommy. She had to be okay.

It was just after midnight when they finally released Lorna. They’d been there over four hours, and she’d gotten five stitches in her head and an ex-ray that showed a fracture in her ankle. After wrapping it, the doctor let her go with instructions to come back in a few days after the swelling had gone down and they’ddetermine if she needed a cast or if she’d be able to get by with just a walking boot.

Not that she was going to be doing much walking. The doctor had also given her a set of crutches and strict orders to keep her leg elevated and to ice it every few hours for the next few days.

A nurse helped Lorna into a wheelchair while Leni ran out to get the truck and met them at the front door. Together, she and the nurse got her sister up into the truck, and Leni carefully buckled her in then tucked the bag with all the instructions and medications behind the seat.

“Did you steal this truck?” her sister asked as Leni climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Because I’m not sure they’ll let me breastfeed in jail, and my boobs are killing me.” She wrapped her arm across her swollen chest then leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “Actually, my whole body is killing me.”

“You took quite a fall. You’ll probably have bruises popping up all over the next few days,” Leni said, avoiding the comment about the truck.

They both knew who the pickup belonged to.

“I hate these crutches already,” Lorna said, ten minutes later as Leni tried to help her up the steps to the house. The railing had long since rotted and fallen off, which made the steps even more treacherous and hard to maneuver. “How am I going to carry the baby using these?”

Leni heard the catch in her sister’s voice. Lorna hadn’t cried yet, but she could tell she was on the verge. The stupid crutches might be what pushed her over the edge.

“I’ll help you,” Leni said, wrapping her arm around Lorna’s waist as they managed another step. “Whatever you need.”

They were both out of breath as they made it through the front door, then Lorna stopped, her mouth falling open asshe peered around the room. “What the hell happened to my house?”

Chapter Seven

Leni stood next to her sister and gaped at the transformation of the house. The toys that had been strewn across the floor were neatly corralled in a bin, and the two loads of laundry that Lorna had dumped in the chair three days ago and had been meaning to get to, were all neatly folded and stacked in the laundry basket. The end tables had been straightened, and the carpet showed fresh vacuum tracks.

The kitchen had been cleaned as well. The supper dishes that Lorna had been coming down the stairs to do when she’d tripped on a Lego and fallen, were either in the dishwasher or drying in the rack next to an immaculately scrubbed sink. The floor had been freshly swept and mopped. Even the sticky fingerprints that Leni had noticed on the refrigerator earlier that day were gone.

The table and countertops had been wiped clean, and a candle that had been buried behind a stack of papers for weeks was now lit and sitting in the center of the counter, giving off a soft glow and the subtle scent of vanilla.

Lorna’s eyes were still wide as she gazed around the house in awe. “Who did all this?” she whispered. As if talking too loudly might make the magical transformation disappear.

“I’m not sure,” Leni said. “I guess Chevy must have.”

“Dang, his grandma raised him right,” Lorna said. “Do you think we could hire him to come do this every week?”

Leni laughed but what her sister said wasn’t a bad idea, and she made a mental note to check into finding a cleaning service she could hire for the next four to six weeks.

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