Page 8 of Her Wild Cowboy Billionaire

“I homeschool my daughter. Have been for the last two years.” Ever since I feared that crazy Gordon Simmons would try to take Mindy to get to me.

“Won’t that interfere with your duties to me?”

“No. It has never stopped me from doing my job or being available to my patients.”

He picked up a pencil off the desk and sat back gingerly. “What can you do for me?” With the pencil in both hands, he twisted it.

“Whatever you need. I can see by the way you are holding yourself that you probably have at least one broken rib and that your chest isn’t wrapped, which is a good thing. Wrapping them would only make you more uncomfortable and restrict your breathing, which could lead to pneumonia. You definitely don’t want that to happen. I can help you bathe or bathe you if necessary.” Oh dear, I can see him naked in a tub. I must remain professional. She sat up straighter. “I can also help to keep your casts clean. Grace said you’d be getting them off around five weeks from now. But you will still need help with your back and will need physical therapy to learn to bend your ankle and wrist again. I can help you with those exercises. I was a physical therapy assistant before I became a registered nurse.”

“My, you are just the one stop shop, aren’t you? However, I do need help with those things, so consider yourself hired. You can start by taking care of the wound on my back and giving me a shot for the pain. I think the pain shot first. I’m doing everything I can to remain cordial, but I need some relief from the constant and sometimes sharp throbbing pain in my back. The only thing good about it is I forget about the constant pain in my ankle.”

She followed his gaze toward the barn. “You realize you can’t do the things you used to, right?”

“If you clean and bandage my back, I can do most of what I used to.”

“You can’t ride broncs again with broken ribs, at least not soon. I know your hobby. Grace told me you ride as Tate Wilson, your great-grandmother’s maiden name. Actually, that’s a pretty good idea. The media doesn’t seem to have discovered it yet.”

“And they won’t, unless someone tells them.”

She lifted her brows. “I’ve got no reason to tell anyone. I don’t want anyone to know where—” She stopped mid-sentence. Did she want to tell him why she’d taken the job? She definitely should. She didn’t like keeping secrets.

He lifted a brow. “You don’t want anyone to know where you are. Is that right? Who are you running from, Willow?”

Willow sagged in the chair and huffed out a breath. “You might as well know, since I could bring my trouble to your doorstep. I have a man stalking me. I was kind to him as his nurse in the hospital, and he thought my kindness was more than just doing my job. When I rejected him, he started threatening me and, worse, Mindy. That’s why I started home schooling her. His name is Gordon Simmons. He hasn’t hurt me yet. He just follows me home and to the grocery store, stares in my windows, makes hang-up calls or deep breathing calls in the middle of the night. He terrorizes me. The police say they can’t do anything because he’s always gone before they arrive and they haven’t been able to find him.”

“I see.” He lifted his arms like he was about to put his elbows on the desk and thought better of it.

“I understand if you don’t want to hire me. It’s all right.” She stood. “If you’d arrange for your helicopter—” I don’t want to go back home and be afraid for Mindy’s safety and my own. Please, let me stay.

He stood, but groaned as he did so. “Now, just wait a minute. I think you’re just the person I’m looking for. Grace was right. I can use the help...of all kinds.”

She stood. “But what about Simmons?”

“You’re safer here than you would be in Denver. Please stay...for Mindy’s sake and safety, if not for your own.”

She put her hands on her hips. Her back was ramrod straight as anger almost overtook her. “Are you saying I would put my daughter in harm’s way? I’m doing everything I can to keep her safe. I...” Tears spilled down her cheeks.

Travis hobbled over and put his arms around her.

She knew the hug had to hurt him, but she appreciated the contact with another person. She carefully pushed back. “Thank you. I appreciate it, but I don’t want to hurt you. This must feel terrible on your ribs.” She wiped her makeup-free eyes with the heels of her palms. “What do you say we get your back taken care of and get you a painkiller? You’ll feel much better, I guarantee.”

He smiled. “Let me worry about my back and my pain. But yes, I’d like it very much if you would take care of my back. I’ve tried to keep it clean, but I have a feeling it’s infected. I haven’t had Claudia look at it because she’d make me go back to the doctor...and between you and me, I don’t like doctors. They usually hurt me.” He chuckled.

She had wanted to freshen up, but bandaging his wound was more important right now. “Then let’s do this. Where are your bandages and your pain medicine?”

“In my bedroom.” He turned and hobbled on his walking cast toward the door. “Follow me, please.”

Willow followed him out of his office, down the hall, and up the stairs. He went slowly because of his broken ankle and the walking boot, taking one stair at a time, but she was glad he wasn’t pushing his healing any more than he was. His room was the first one on the left. The morning sun would shine into the room, while it would be shielded from the hot afternoon sun.

Someone had beautifully decorated the room. The king-size bed had head and footboards made of oak and only coated with a clear finish varnish, so the wood grain showed through. They were carved with a woodland scene of deer, a bear, and some rabbits surrounded by trees and bushes. The bureau with attached mirror, the two nightstands and the dresser were all in the same light-colored wood and treated the same way. She looked back at the bed. It seemed to draw her gaze to it. She gave an imperceivable shake of her head to get control of her thoughts.

He walked into the attached bathroom and retrieved a box.

Back in control, she gave instructions in her most professional manner. “Stay standing, and I’ll remove your shirt. I think standing is best for me to get a good look.”

“Okay.” He took the hem of his t-shirt and pulled. He immediately squinted and clenched his teeth. “Ahh, oww.”

“Wait. Let me help you.” She walked to him, lifted his arms one side at a time, and first worked the garment off the uninjured arm and then the injured one. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?” My heartbeat quickened at the sight of his naked chest. He was perfect. Broad across the shoulders and tapering to a slim waist. His sweatpants were slung low and the light sprinkling of hair disappeared beneath the waistband. I have to concentrate on breathing normally rather than panting as I want to. I’ve never been so attracted to a man, just from seeing his chest. Why does he affect me so? “How did you manage to get that on by yourself?”