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A look akin to panic flashed across Val’s beautiful face. She shook her head. “No, Lexie. Whatever you do, you can’t tell him I’m here. Casey and I were finished a long time ago. And the girl I used to be—the girl who loved him—doesn’t exist anymore.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CURSING SILENTLY THROUGH CLENCHED TEETH, SHANE WORKED HIS way along the parallel bars. The muscles in his arms and shoulders, which did the work of supporting his weight and moving him ahead, bulged and throbbed. His upper-body strength had been formidable before the disaster that he’d come to call the wreck. Now the slave drivers who were his therapists were doing their damnedest to turn him into the Incredible Half-Hulk. The regimen at this sports rehab facility, one of the best in the country, would make milit
ary boot camp look like a tea party. Shane had only been here nine days, but it already felt like forever.
Below his hips, his useless legs dangled and dragged. Shane had come to hate those legs, hate them for their weakness and for all the things they could no longer do. He was angry most of the time—but it was rage that fueled his determination to get stronger.
“Had enough?” Meg, a tiny, snub-nosed blonde, six months pregnant, was the toughest member of his therapy team. When it came to anger motivation, she knew just where to prod. “You must be getting tired by now, cowboy.” Her tone was deliberately teasing. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to give up and take a break. There’s a cold Gatorade waiting for you in the fridge. You’ve earned it. How about it?”
Shane suppressed the urge to tell her what she could do with the cold Gatorade. When he made it to the end of the bars, he turned around and started back. He would show the little tormentor just how much he could do. Sweat was running down his face, but if he lifted a hand off the bars to wipe it away, he would fall. “I’m fine,” he muttered. “I’ll tell you when I’m ready to quit.”
“Whatever.” She walked away, disappearing into the hallway. Shane had made it to the other end of the bars and was about to turn around and go again when Meg returned.
“Sorry to disturb you while you’re having so much fun,” she said. “But you have a visitor in the lobby. I told him you’d be right out.”
Him. Shane felt a twinge of disappointment. So it wasn’t Lexie, which meant that it was likely Brock. Meg wheeled his chair over to the bars. He used his arms and upper-body strength to swing himself onto the seat—one of the new tricks he’d learned. His hands, already tough from bull riding, pushed the large side wheels forward, propelling him down the hall, through the automatic doors, and into the lobby.
Brock rose and walked forward to meet him. “You’re looking good,” he said.
“Tell that to my legs,” Shane growled.
Brock returned to his nearby chair and handed Shane the cold can of Bud Light he’d smuggled in. “Your trainer says you’ve made amazing progress. She’s never worked with a patient as strong as you are.”
Shane popped the tab on the beer and took a long swig. “That woman’s in the wrong profession. She needs whips and chains. But hey, I went to the bathroom by myself for the first time today. That’s a real accomplishment.”
Brock nodded. “Have you met the other patients here?”
“Barely. I’m not here to be sociable. I’m here to get out and get on with my life.”
“And does that life include a pretty blond lady stock contractor?”
Shane finished the beer and crushed the can in his fist. “That was the plan before the wreck. But I’d never ask a woman to take me on like this.” Shane’s gesture swept his lower body. He weighed the idea of mentioning the job offer from the Alamo Canyon Ranch, then decided against it. No sense raising Brock’s hackles until he’d made up his mind for sure.
“Then you’re still open to living on my ranch.” It wasn’t a question. Brock didn’t ask many of those.
“Why would you want me?” Shane asked. “I can’t ride bulls. I might not even be able to sit a horse. I don’t have any special job skills. Being a cowboy is all I know. What use would I be, except to take up space and cost you money?”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Brock said. “You’re smart, and you know plenty about ranching, especially bull ranching. What’s even more important, I can trust you—that’s rare in my business.”
“Your business?” Shane felt a prickle along his nerves—a premonition that he was about to hear something he’d never heard before.
“Let me lay my cards on the table,” Brock said, leaning closer. “My one try at marriage was enough to convince me that I’m not a family man. I’ll never have the patience for a wife and kids. That leaves me with nobody to carry on the legacy of the Tolman Ranch.
“What I’m proposing is that you come back and let me teach you everything I know—not only about ranching but about my business—the investments, the properties, all of it. You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a son. If you meet my expectations, when the time is right, I’ll draw up the papers and designate you as my legal heir.”
Shane’s throat had gone dry. After knowing Brock for a decade, he’d assumed that he understood the man. But he’d never expected anything like this.
“Well, what do you say?” Brock demanded, impatient as always.
Shane groped for words. “It’s . . . a very generous offer. Not just generous, but unbelievable. I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Brock. But this is a huge decision. I won’t accept unless I can be sure that I won’t let you down. For that I need time—time to heal and time to think.”
Brock studied him for a long moment before he rose to his feet. “Understood. I know my offer isn’t one to be taken lightly. Take all the time you need. I’ll be in touch.” He extended a hand. Shane accepted the handshake and watched as Brock turned away and walked outside to his vehicle.
What Brock had just offered him was beyond belief—a future of untold material wealth and power. Only a fool would turn him down. But the owner of the Tolman Ranch never did anything without a self-serving purpose. Shane understood that if he said yes, Brock would demand unconditional obedience, and that would include acting against his principles—acting ruthlessly if Brock required him to.
Even so, Shane was tempted. Who would he ever be without his legs? Not a champion bull rider. Not a man who could stand alone and hold a place in the world. What if signing his life over to Brock was his only chance for a solid future?
