“I had help. We all want you to be comfortable.”
“And the rest—clearing out my apartment, driving me. I’ll owe you for life, Lexie. You’ve been an angel.”
It was all he could do to keep from catching her hand, pulling her to him, and kissing her long and deep, as he ached to do. But he knew better than to try. And she had already stepped away.
When she spoke, there was a catch in her voice. “Get some rest. Supper will be in an hour, maybe longer, knowing Val. I think she’s working on lasagna. Call me if you need anything.”
With that, she walked out of the room. Shane listened as her footsteps faded down the hall. Then, gathering his resolve, he set to work unpackin
g and organizing the things he’d brought. The task would keep him busy till suppertime, at least. Without the use of his legs, everything seemed to take twice as long.
* * *
After a late supper, Shane had retired to his room, insisting he didn’t need help getting ready for bed. Lexie sensed the reason. The intimacy of helping him undress and get into bed would be a strain on them both. And he would be all right, she told herself. Bedtime was something he’d learned to manage in rehab. If he really needed help, she could call one of the boys from the bunkhouse.
Since Val had cooked, Lexie had clean-up duty. She cleared the table, put the leftover lasagna and salad in the fridge, and started the dishwasher. That done, she opened two cans of cold lemon soda and wandered out onto the porch.
She found Val in the lounge chair, bare feet displaying flawless black polish on the toenails. Tess had found the nightly gatherings on the porch too bittersweet after Callie’s death. But that hadn’t stopped Val, and it hadn’t stopped Lexie from joining her.
With a whoosh of breath, she sank onto a nearby chair. It had been a long day, making the nearly three-hour drive to Tucson, loading Shane and his gear, then driving back to the ranch. The worst of it had been the strain of making small talk as if nothing had ever happened between them—and doing her best to hide her shattered heart.
“Here you are. At least it’s cold.” She passed one of the sodas to her sister.
“Thanks.” Val took a swallow and grimaced. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather have a beer.”
“You know better than that, Val. If you want, we could look for some non-alcoholic beer in town.”
“Don’t bother. Drinking that stuff is like kissing your ugly cousin.” Val tipped the soda to her mouth again. “To get off the subject of ugly . . . that boyfriend of yours is flat-out gorgeous. I was drooling over him at supper. But before you get your hackles up, Lexie, I know he’s taken. I like men, but I don’t try to steal them from other women, especially my sister. Besides, I could see the way he was looking at you. Honey, you don’t have a thing to worry about.”
“Oh, Val! You don’t know!” Lexie’s words ended in a broken sob. “Before his injury, it was like we were on fire. But now . . .” She explained the situation and Shane’s conditions for coming to the ranch. “Unless he can feel like a whole man—a man who can take care of his woman and satisfy her—”
“There are other ways to satisfy a woman,” Val said. “I could name a few—including some that might make you blush.”
“It’s not that simple. He wants to be independent. He needs to know he’s capable of earning a living and protecting his family. He’s got this old-fashioned idea of what a man should be—and for him, it’s that or nothing.”
Val reached out, caught her hand, and held it tightly. “I don’t know if you’re asking for my advice. Lord knows I’ve made enough mistakes of my own. But here it is for what it’s worth. Ready?”
Lexie nodded, blinking away a tear.
“It’s just this,” Val said. “Give him time. He’s had his whole world turned upside down. Getting used to the new way of things is going to take weeks, at least, maybe months. Yes, it’s going to be hard on you, keeping your distance. But think how much harder life will be for him. Right now, the most loving gift you can give that man is patience. If he loves you—and I truly believe he does—he’ll come around in his own time.”
“I hope you’re right.” Lexie sighed. “Right or not, I’d be a fool not to take your advice. I’ve been making this too much about me. I need to remember that it’s about Shane—about giving him the space he needs to grow.” She drained her soda and set the can on a side table. “Thanks, Val. I needed this little pep talk.”
Val let go of her hand. “Well, as long as you’re good with that, I have some other news. Today, while you and Tess and Ruben were gone, I did some detective work.”
“What kind of detective work?” Intrigued, Lexie leaned closer to her sister.
“Snooping, for want of a better word. I went looking for any clue to where Callie might have gone the night she died.”
“And what did you find?”
“Well . . .” Val shrugged. “Nothing, really. This is more about what I didn’t find. I started with Ruben’s trailer. You know he never locks it.”
“That’s because he doesn’t have anything to steal. So what did you find?”
“Nothing, as I said. The place was immaculate, just a few dishes and a single set of flatware, a hot plate with a kettle, some instant coffee, a minifridge, empty, a twin-sized bed, a table and chair, a little TV, and the clothes in his closet. The bathroom’s tiny—just a few necessities there. I went over every inch of space, including the drawers. The man doesn’t have anything he doesn’t need—and there was no sign that Callie had ever set foot in the place—no condoms, no Viagra, nothing.”
“I never thought it was Ruben, anyway,” Lexie said. “What about the boys?”