Rawhide and Lace by Diana Palmer Read Free Book Online

said shortly, stopping to stare down at her. "What he did or didn't do, or said or didn't say, has nothing more to do with either of us"
     
    "I'm sorry he's gone."
     
    "So am I. But all the mourning in the world won't bring him back." He stared back at the grave, and for an instant there was a deep, dark hurt in his eyes. Then he erased it and turned a bland face back to Erin. "Right now, you're my top priority. I'm going to get you back on your feet again."
     
    "I won't let you take over my life," she told him. "Sure you will," he replied dryly. "You're nothing but a little walking rain cloud right now. You don't have enough spunk to fight me."
     
    "Want to bet?" she said angrily.
     
    "I don't gamble. Look out, you'll break that cane if you aren't careful."
     
    "Then you'd just have to carry me home, wouldn't you?" she taunted. All the same, she lightened up on the cane. "How long do I have to stay here?"
     
    "Until you turn sixty-five, if I know Jessup." He sighed. He glanced at her as they walked. "Put a little more weight on that leg, honey, you need to exercise it."
     
    "Listen, cowboy...!" she snapped.
     
    "I'm not a boy," he said.
     
    "Will you listen to me?"
     
    "Sure. When you say something I want to hear. Get in. I've got work to do. Winter isn't quite as hectic as the rest of the year, but I keep busy. I hope you like reading. You'll die of boredom without something to keep your mind occupied."
     
    "I can watch television," she muttered as he helped her into the car and got in beside her.
     
    "I don't own a television," he told her. Her jaw fell open.
     
    "I don't like television," he persisted, starting the car.
     
    "What do you do in the evenings?" she asked.
     
    "I read."
     
    She rested her head against the seat. What a wonderful time she was going to have. In between pain pills and being forced to exercise her leg, she could sit and watch him read books. It looked as if Staghorn was going to be a great rest camp-the next best place to hell. Oh, Bruce! she thought miserably, mourning quietly for her old friend, why did you have to die and leave me in this awful mess?
     
    Chapter Four
     
    Erin had vowed that she wouldn't go to the doctor, but Ty simply put her in the car and drove her there. To make matters worse, he raised eyebrows in the crowded waiting room by insisting on going in with her to talk to the doctor.
     
    Her face flushed wildly as they followed the nurse down the hall.
     
    "This will be all over town in no time," she groaned. "How could you do that to me?"
     
    "Everybody knows you're living out at the ranch anyway," he said reasonably.
     
    He was right, but that didn't make her feel any more comfortable about it. She hated being the object of idle gossip. People probably already knew that she was getting half of Staghorn, and she could just imagine what they figured she'd done to earn it.
     
    "Will you stop torturing yourself?" he grumbled, glancing down at her as they stepped into the examination room. "What the hell does it matter if people talk?"
     
    "Well, it won't be your reputation that gets ruined, will it?" she returned.
     
    "Miss Scott? I'm Dr. Alex Brodie." The elderly, white-coated man entered right behind them and shook hands with Erin and then with Ty. He sat down and went over the details of her surgery with her. Apparently Ty had given him her doctor's name and he'd had a conversation with the man, because he knew exactly what had been done as well as the exercises that had been prescribed.
     
    "Have you been doing the physical therapy?" he asked.
     
    She colored delicately and averted her eyes. "There didn't seem much point," she began.
     
    "Miss Scott, may I be blunt?" he asked, and proceeded to be so. "Surgery can help only to a certain point. You can walk again, but unless you do the exercises, exactly as prescribed, that leg will be stiff for the rest of your life, and you'll always limp. I understand that you were a professional model. That makes it