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Chapter Four
“I’m coming,” Luke called as he ran the last few yards to Kaylee’s room. He rounded the doorway then stopped in his tracks, not sure what to make of the woman sprawled across the floor of the room.
Her arms were spread out, and her face was pink and flushed. “I give up,” she said. Cooper had followed Luke in, and he sniffed at her head then gave her cheek a careful lick. She didn’t even flinch. “You’re going to have to bury me like this.”
“Bury you? What happened? Are you hurt?”
She held up her leg where her cowboy boot had been pulled halfway off her foot. “Yes. No. I mean, I do hurt, but I’m not hurt like you mean. And if I had even an ounce of energy left, I’d put the hurt on the woman who sold me these stupid boots. I’ve been trying to get them off for the last fifteen minutes.”
He smiled as he held out his hand. “I’d be in line behind you on whoever sold you those ridiculous things. They might look pretty, but they aren’t made for working. Let me help you. It’s easier if I pull them off.”
“I hate to trouble you, but I will offer you a dozennon-vegetable cakes if you would.” She took his hand and let him haul her back up to the side of the bed. Cooper jumped up behind her and laid down next to her leg.
“I got you. No cake needed.” Kneeling in front of her, he took the heel of the boot in his palm and tugged. And tugged. “Dang, that sucker really is stuck.”
Kaylee winced and bit down on her bottom lip.
Gladys came over and plopped down next to Luke, resting her head against his thigh as she let out a whine. “I know, girl. We’re gonna fix this.” He gave another tug, and this time pulled the boot free. Her sock came off with it, and he tossed them both across the room.
He heard her soft intake of breath as he gingerly lifted her foot, grimacing at the raw red marks and the inflamed blister on her heel. He took extra care with the other boot, pulling it gently, but firmly over her heel. Her other foot was in almost as bad of shape, swollen and red, but it didn’t have a visible blister.
His chest hurt at the thought that she’d been out in the barn with him slinging hay with this mess happening to her feet.
“Hang tight a second. I’ll be right back with something to help.” He carefully set her foot on the floor.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said with a sigh. “I’m just glad to get those off.”
He hurried across the hall to the bathroom and filled a basin with warm water then dumped in a handful of Epsom salts. Grabbing a towel, gauze and some aloe ointment, he carried the basin back to the room and set it on the floor in front of Kaylee. “Here, this will help with the swelling.” He lifted her feet gently and rubbed each one for a minute before setting them in the water.
“That is heavenly,” Kaylee said, relaxing her shoulders. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” he said, leaning back against the wall and stretching his legs out in front of him. “I feel bad I was making you work so hard in the barn this afternoon. Your feet must have been killing you.”
“You weren’tmakingme do anything. I wanted to help. And I was having fun.”
“Fun?” He shook his head. “I hate to see what you consider work then.”
“At least we were outside and doing something new and active. Work for me is forcing myself to sit at the computer staring at a blank screen for hours on end trying to come up with something clever to write. Something that’s compelling and interestinganddifferent than the last ten stories I wrote. It’s coming up with new character motivations and figuring out internal and external goals and creating new ways to torture my characters and add more conflict to their fictional life.”
“That does sound kind of awful. Especially that torture part.”
“It is.” She let out a sigh. “Especially when you, in fact, hate having conflict in your own life. It makes it even harder to come up with more for your characters.”
He rubbed the chin of the corgi who had sprawled out next to him on the floor. “So why do you do it if it’s so awful?”
A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Because it’s also wonderful. And I love it. And I can’t imaginenotwriting. Sure, it’s hard, and there are days when I ask myself why I’m putting myself through it, but there are also days when I see the story so clearly in my head and can practically hear the voices of the characters talking to each other. And those are the days that the words flow out of me like water from a fountain. And then it’s so much fun. The time passes, and I don’t even realize it because the story is just pouring out of me.”
Embarrassed, she stopped and looked down into her lap. “Sorry, I don’t know why I just told you all that. That was probably way too much information.”
He wasn’t sorry at all. He liked watching her talk, watching her eyes light up as she spoke about her characters. “Don’t be sorry. I asked.”
She picked at a loose thread on the quilt next to her leg. “I know. But that stuff about hearing my characters talk probably made me sound a little crazy. Just so you know, I might hearthemtalking, but it’s not like I talk back to them.” She tilted her head as one side of her lip quirked up. “Well, not much anyway.”
He chuckled. “It’s okay. I get it. I’ve been known to carry on an occasional conversation with my horse and several with my dog.” He nodded to Cooper who had wrapped his body around Kaylee and put his head in her lap. “I’m sure it’s just because I spend so much of my time alone.”
She nodded. “Me too. But I’m surprised you can work this whole ranch by yourself. It seems like a lot.”
“It is. I have a good friend who comes over and helps me out when I need him. But it’s kind of like you were saying earlier for me, too. Ranching is hard, back-breaking work. You got a taste of that today. So much of its success is out of my control, so it doesn’t matter how hard I work if the weather and the economy and the price of beef aren’t in my favor. I’ll admit there are times when I hate it and wonder why I’m still doing it. But it’s in my blood, and there are plenty of days I love it. Sometimes it stinks to get up before the sun to feed my animals, but nothing beats coming out of the barn and seeing that big ol’ orange ball come up over the horizon and fill the Montana sky with the prettiest blues and pinks and purples you’ve ever seen.”
