In my opinion, this was the best part of Heavenly Lane. The animals we raised inside this barn made all the monotonous work worth it.
My eyes drifted to the ridge, where I noticed movement. Always on the defensive, my heart started to pound at the thought another bison bull had escaped. I let out a breath when the figure headed toward me was a horse and not a bison.
Great. Here came the worst part of Heavenly Lane. Or should I say, Bison Ridge? I darted back into the barn—praying he hadn’t seen me standing out there—and tucked the bucket away from the busy lips of Bert and Ernie. Usually, I would climb up the ladder and hide in the old hayloft until Blaze went away, but I didn’t dare do that with my arm in a sling and half a concussion in my brain.
My eyes darted left and right as Rapunzel’s hooves scattered gravel on her way around the barn. I didn’t want to talk to Blaze today. Hell, I didn’t want to talk to Blaze ever. I would never be able to look at him again without seeing him standing there naked with a boner the size of Texas.
I snorted, and my cheeks heated at the thought. I darted inside the stall with my Shetland pony, giving him a scare. Hunkered down, I stroked his nose and whispered into his ear. “It’s okay, Beaker,” I promised, my voice calming the pony. “I’m sorry for interrupting your breakfast. I’m just going to hang out here with you for a bit.”
I’d never been more grateful that I was tiny than I was that morning. Even if Blaze came inside the barn, he’d never notice me hiding behind Beaker like a coward. I rolled my eyes at myself. I wasn’t under any delusions that I wasn’t ridiculous; though I felt I had earned my cowardice after the events that had occurred over the last seventy-two hours. I was already going to have to reinvent this property. I didn’t need Blaze reminding me of what a failure I was before I could even take the first step.
“I know you’re in there, Heaven,” he called from outside the door.
I could picture him lounging there with his shoulder braced againstmybarn, and the toe of his cowboy boot braced onmyland. They’d be real cowboy boots from Texas, too, not the ones you buy at the feed store in town.
“He can just stand out there all day and do all the yelling he wants,” I whispered to the pony. “I’m staying here with you.”
“I thought I’d ride down the hill and see how you’re feeling,” he called out.
I rolled my eyes. Like Blaze really cared about how I was feeling. All he cared about was when I was going to go belly up so he could buy my family’s land out from under me. That was never going to happen. I didn’t know how to do anything but run this ranch. My next thought had me gagging:He probably thought I’d work for him!Oh, he better think again! Been there, done that, wasn’t doing it again.
“Tex, Beau, and Dawn are riding the fence line,” he called. “I thought maybe we could have breakfast. I brought some of Beau’s famous sausage biscuits.”
I whimpered to myself. Beau was a fantastic cook. You never went hungry at Bison Ridge when Beau was cooking. Blaze knew how to play dirty.
Be strong, Heaven! You don’t need Blaze McAwley or his biscuits. You have Jimmy Dean in the freezer!Well, not Jimmy Dean, but some of his biscuits anyway. I snorted, trying to hold in my laughter. Hopefully, he’d think it was Animal, one of our notoriously loud pigs.
“I’ve seen more maturity out of an hour-old red dog, Heaven. All I want to do is talk to you. It’s not like I’m going to unleash Mr. Monster on you.”
I shot up off the hay bale and stomped to the stall door, throwing it wide open. It slammed shut behind me, and Beaker grunted.
“Keep your creatures and your monster to yourself, Mister!” I yelled out at him rather than getting too close, just in case he did whip out Mr. Monster.
Blaze strode through the barn door, wearing that famous Texas grin again. “Good morning, Heaven. I kind of figured you were hiding in here somewhere. I noticed you scurry back inside when you saw me coming. Full disclosure? It kind of hurt my feelings a teensy-weensy bit. Do you know what’s not teensy-weensy? Mr. Monster.”
I held up my fist and shook it. “Watch it, or I’ll introduce Mr. Monster to Mr. Fisty Wisty.”
He grunted in unabashed amusement and threw his arm around my shoulder to walk me toward the house. My pained yelp was followed by my body crumbling to the ground before Blaze even knew what happened. I gripped my elbow and concentrated on not vomiting. When the black haze encroaching on my vision finally receded, his worried face loomed from where he knelt in front of me.
“I’m sorry. You hurt it in the crash, didn’t you?”
When I thought I could speak without throwing up, I answered him. “Doesn’t take much,” I admitted. “It’ll be fine. It’s only been three days since the accident.”
Blaze grasped my right elbow and helped me up, closed the barn door behind me, and walked me to the house. He snagged a bag off the stairs after he helped me in, set it on the table, and pointed at a chair signaling for me to sit. I unbuttoned the flannel shirt and pulled it off, the warmth already too much for the heat of the morning. His assessing eyes took in the sling and the cockeyed way I held the shoulder.
“Heaven, that doesn’t look right.”
“It hasn’t looked right in a dozen years, Blaze. That’s nothing new.” He was right though. It was worse. Much worse. Vomit-inducing bad. If I tried to hold it the way I usually did, the pain would be overwhelming.
“I think you should see a doctor. What if the accident caused more damage to it?”
“Oh, it did, but that doesn’t change the fact that I just paid off the last of Daddy’s doctor bills. You can be damn sure I’m not going to start racking up new ones.”
Blaze moved over and set to work massaging the tightly knotted muscles in my shoulder. His hands were warm and gentle. Tender and caring. “Tell me if I’m hurting you, angel.”
My eyes closed, and I leaned into his hands, letting the heat relax the joint. I couldn’t remember the last time that shoulder hadn’t been a mess of tense, quivering muscles. I couldn’t remember the last time I hadn’t spent most of the day in pain just to finish my work.
“Why do you suffer in silence?” he whispered, his fingers stalling on my shoulder. “You’re so damn stubborn.”