The Cowboy Soldier

Alexa had her speech ready but didn’t have a chance to get a word out. Sierra hit the ground talking.

“You told me Rafe had to agree to come,” she said, shoving a worn khaki duffel bag at Alexa. “He did. And here’s his stuff. This should do him for a couple of weeks. I’ll come by then and pick up his laundry and bring him fresh clothes to make it easier on you. Oh, my number’s programmed in his cell phone speed dial if you need me. I don’t think I’ve left out anything, but you never know.” She hugged the man standing next to her, then vaulted back into the van as if she couldn’t get away fast enough.

“Wait!” Alexa frowned down at the duffel in her hands.

“By the way,” Sierra called out, “I put his electric razor in the bottom of the bag. Oh, and his pills. Too many of those. Anti-anxiety, sedatives and something else. I hope you’ll wean him off them before long.” With a bright smile and a wave, she shut the car door and motored off.

“Well,” Alexa drawled. “Here we are, two strangers—plus a dog.” Compadre trotted up and sniffed Rafe’s boots then snuffled his hand. “Compadre is a border collie, a stray who adopted me. Or we adopted each other. I hope you like animals. I have quite a few on this ranch.” Alexa realized she was babbling and bit down hard on her lower lip. Truthfully, she was bowled over by Rafe Eaglefeather’s good looks. She’d read his medical history last night and knew he was thirty-five to her thirty, and she’d probably read his height and weight. But statistics were nothing compared to the real man. The major was tall, raven-haired and golden-eyed, and he put Alexa in mind of a proud, wounded bird—like his namesake the eagle.

And those eyes. She’d assumed they’d be unfocused, or even injured. Instead, he stared straight at her when she spoke, and it was downright unnerving. Could he be faking? Impossible. He’d been examined by countless doctors.

She gave herself a little shake. They couldn’t just stand here all day.

“Uh, let’s get you settled.” Gripping the handles of his duffel, Alexa directed him up to the house and opened the screen door with her free hand. “Your bedroom is this way.” She tugged on his arm.

Rafe stumbled over the dog.

“Ooh!”

Alexa dropped the bag and managed to catch him, but he was heavier than she thought. They both almost went down.

But the near fall proved he wasn’t faking. Nor had the man gone soft since he’d left the military. He was six feet of solid male. His deep, gravelly, “Sorry,” as he attempted to untangle himself from Alexa’s grasp sent a tingle up her arm.

She shrugged it off. What woman wouldn’t react to such a terrific-looking guy? Sierra had made it plain she was his only family, but a man this good-looking probably had a string of girlfriends. Alexa sneaked another sidelong peek at him as she hesitantly took his elbow and guided him through the kitchen and down the hall to his room.

“Oh, I have a paper I need signed by you. A release for treatment. I intended to read it aloud while your sister was still here so she could vouch for what it says.”

Alexa expected him to comment. He said nothing.

“The release sets out the terms of treatment. It’s important we both agree to them.” They’d reached his room. “This is where you’ll stay,” she said, directing him inside.

He gave a casual shrug as they entered his room. “Give me a pen and set my hand down where I have to sign.”

“Okay. But one thing I need to make clear is that you will relinquish all your prescription medications to me, and I’ll decide how and when to dispense them.”

“No problem. There should be four bottles of pills in my duffel.”

She leaned down and dug them out, wincing at what she saw. “Okay, this is your bed.” Alexa shoved the pills in her pockets before placing his palm on the quilt. “There’s a three-drawer chest with a lamp next to the bed. It’ll be on your right as you’re lying down.”

She saw the slight curl of his lip at the mention of a lamp. Too bad. She was responsible for his safety while he was here.

“I know you can’t see, Major, but I’d prefer to leave a light on when you’re in here except when you’re sleeping,” she said. “It’ll help me. Now come this way. I’ll let you count the steps to the attached bath. It has a walk-in shower, a sink and commode.” When he said nothing, she counted the steps for him as she led the way. “Four steps left of the bathroom door is a closet.” The two of them made a full circuit of the room, arriving at a wicker chair that she made Rafe touch. From there she counted the steps back to his bed. “This room’s decor is red and white with some browns and golds. Nothing feminine. Western motif.”

He simply stood with his arms dangling loosely at his sides.

So that’s the way it was going to be. “I just thought you’d like to know. You don’t seem like a man who’d want to be stuck in a room with frills.”

“I told the army docs, and I told Sierra,” Rafe said, not altering his stance. “Now I’m telling you. I don’t give a rat’s ass where I spend my time. You, Sierra, the VA—the whole lot of you can do whatever you want with me.” His jaw tensed and he fisted his hands at his sides.

Compadre whined and pawed Rafe’s knee a few times.

Alexa hadn’t studied a lot of psychology, but she knew pent-up rage mixed with guilt when she saw it. Her inclination was to leave him alone to stew, but her compassion overruled the uncharitable thought.

“I’ll help you put away your clothes, then I’ll leave you alone awhile to get comfortable with your new digs.” As she spoke she pulled stuff out of the duffel and saw that he’d come with precious little. Several pair of worn fatigues, underwear and an assortment of colored T-shirts. “Where shall I put your boots?”

“What boots?” he asked.

“There’s a second set of…combat boots, I guess you call them. Like the ones you have on.” Alexa held them out so he could trace a finger over the leather.

“I have no idea what Sierra sent.” He picked up the bag and dumped the remaining contents on the bed. “What the…?” He shook a plastic bag filled with military medals, and a second one with rodeo buckles. “Useless,” he said, his voice strained.

“Why don’t I just put them in a dresser drawer. Your sister is extremely proud of you, you know. She loves you.” Alexa smiled even though Rafe couldn’t see.

“Hell! I know that.”

A reaction at last!

Just as quickly, his face became impassive again. “Do what you want with that stuff. Toss it in the trash for all I care. Where’s that damned paper you want me to sign? Let’s get it done, so I don’t take up any more of your valuable time, Doctor.”

“All right. I’ll go get the form from my office, Major. Be right back.”

“I’m no longer a major. That’s over and done with. Call me Rafe.”

Two could play this game. “If you call me Alexa. Lately my practice has consisted of a pair of young mountain lions, a great-horned owl, a family of squirrels and other assorted forest animals. I’m not used to being called by my title.”

“Sierra said you’re a healer. I thought you were a curandera like our grandmother Velasquez, but it sounds like you’re a vet.”

“No, I’m not a vet or a curandera. I’m an osteopath, and I hold certificates in Chinese herbs and acupuncture.”

He twisted his mouth to one side. “So you stick needles in people. Guess it can’t be any worse than what they put me through in the field hospital.”

Alexa wasn’t sure if Rafe was trying to be funny or sarcastic. Whatever. He definitely presented a challenge—one that intrigued her.

She headed down the hall to her office, which was located off her bedroom at the opposite end of the house. She had always liked this split floor plan. The few summers her parents had brought her here to visit her grandparents, she’d had the room Rafe now occupied. As a teen she’d pretended this whole end of the house was all her domain. Mostly, she holed up there reading biographies of female scientists who’d changed the world. At the time she wore chunky braces and round black-rimmed glasses, which explained why she didn’t read romances and dream about boys like her mother wanted her to do. Bobby was the only boy who ever really saw through her serious facade. And even he liked her best for her brain.

Grabbing the release form she’d printed out the night before, she went back to Rafe’s room. He had drawn the blinds, making the room dark, and sat in the chair, petting Compadre. If dogs could smile, the collie gave a great imitation.

“Here’s the release,” she said. “It’s attached to a clipboard.” She started to read the outline of treatment but Rafe raised his hand.

“Just the part about the pills,” he said.

Alexa did as he asked and read the short statement giving her the right to wean him off his pills and instead use herbs, teas and Eastern techniques such as acupuncture with Rafe’s verbal agreement.

He took the pen and scribbled his name.

“Dinner’s at six,” she told him. “I’ll give you plenty of time to wash up. I thought I’d put a couple of steaks on the grill and make a salad with vegetables from my garden. Lettuce, if the rabbits and deer left me any, tomatoes and cucumbers.” She let the words hang, expecting his agreement and maybe a little enthusiasm or interest.

“I don’t want anything to eat.”