Don’t read anything into it. You’ve seen how he’s gone through women at the hospital. You’re just this week’s flavor.
“Where I come from,” Ty continued, “the local rodeo is a very big deal. My brother and I grew up wanting to be rodeo stars, but we’re too tall.”
“Is that like one of those carnival rides where you have to be this tall to ride, only in reverse?” she teased, trying to picture Ty as a young boy.
He grinned. “You’re funny. Actually, most cowboys on the rodeo circuit are under five and a half feet tall.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s pretty short for a man.”
“But just right if you’re going to ride a bronco.”
If he said so. In her mind, she preferred thinking of cowboys as tall, dark, ruggedly handsome. Like Ty, actually. Which set off a whole slew of cowboy fantasies. Not good.
She could see Ty in worn jeans that fit just so, in a Stetson that sat upon his head just so, with no shirt on, of course, because in her mind he was all six-pack-and-muscle bound. And feeding her some light and flaky calorie-free delicacy that only paled in comparison to him.
She picked up her napkin, started to fan her face with it, realized what she was doing and dropped the cloth back into her lap.
“My father said you grew up on a ranch so I imagine you do ride, even if you are too tall to be a rodeo star,” she said, taking a sip of her water in the hope of moistening her dry mouth and cooling her libido, which was in overdrive.
“I was riding a horse before I could walk.” His grin widened, making her wonder if he could somehow read her thoughts and knew exactly the effect he was having on her body.
“Well,” he continued, his eyes twinkling, “not alone, but I’ve seen the pictures of me sitting on a horse in one person or another’s lap. Donaldsons pretty much go from birth to horse.”
“What about cows?”
“Nah, we don’t ride cows until we hit at least elementary-school age.” His lips twisted with amusement. “My nephew’s competing in the sheep-riding competition.”
“Sheep-riding? How old is he?” For the life of her, Eleanor couldn’t picture a wild bucking sheep trying to throw someone off its back. But what did she know about ranch life or rodeos?
“Don’t look so horrified. William is four. Feel sorry for the sheep. That kid is hell on wheels.”
The love in Ty’s words was strong, making Eleanor wonder yet again why he’d stayed away from Texas so long. “Takes after his uncle Ty?”
“Nah, that would make him the black sheep of the family.”
His answer startled Eleanor.
“I can’t imagine any family not being proud of your accomplishments.” Then again, didn’t her own parents look at her as if she was demented for working for a living?
“I should prepare you. My father and I had a disagreement, shall we say, about my career choice and where I chose to work.”
“Because he wanted you to practice in Texas?”
Ty’s face lost its playful edge. “Something like that. Quite frankly, darlin’, the man scares the daylight out of me.”
He said it jokingly, but there was no humor in his voice.
“Because you’re easily scared?” Her fingers toyed with the napkin in her lap, twisting one end back and forth.
“There’s a reason I work with babies.” Although his tone was teasing, something told her there was more to what Ty said than his actual words.
“I’m glad you work with babies, Ty. You’re an excellent doctor and your patients are very blessed to have you overseeing their first few months in this world.”
His smile was genuine and her compliment softened his eyes. “Ditto, Ellie.”
She frowned at his use of the nickname, but his grin held and he shrugged as if to say he couldn’t help himself.
“A deal’s a deal,” he reminded her.