Cowboy Confessions by Gail MacMillan

Author:Gail MacMillan [MacMillan, Gail]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Scarred Hero/Heroine,
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press Inc.
Published: 2016-11-08T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

“Come on, swim! You can do it.” She turned back and yelled at him. “We’re almost there.”

“Doin’ the best I can.” He fought for breath and calm. This woman will be the death of me.

Ahead, he saw her reach water shallow enough to allow her to get to her feet. Standing, she waited for him, waves lapping about her waist.

Bloody hell, in that wet T-shirt…

With what he figured was near the end of his strength, he managed to reach out with long crawl strokes. Shortly, finally, blessedly, he put his feet on a sandy bottom. “Told you you could do it.” She grinned triumphantly as he caught at her arm to pull himself upright.

“Yeah, well, lucky for you.” The words blurted out in gasps.

“For me?”

“If you’d had to tell my mother you’d drowned me, you’d suffer a fate worse than I had.”

“Laura is a pretty darned compassionate person.” She smirked back at him. “She would have understood.”

He ignored the remark and staggered to shore. A few feet up onto the overgrown lawn, his toe hit something in the grass. Looking down, he saw sunlight glinting off his cell.

“Great!” He bent, suppressing a groan, and picked it up. Blast the woman! Grasping it, he continued on toward the house. He was starting up the verandah steps when her voice made him pause.

“Looking good, mister. Made it all the way to the house…without your cane.”

Sweet Jesus! I did. Somehow I did. Astounded he stopped dead in his tracks. The swimming…did that do it?

A pain shot up his leg, and he grabbed the railing. No, it was just one of those crazy things you do when you’re fighting for your life. Like when you fall off a bull. A major adrenalin rush. If you’re conscious, you run like hell to get out of the way, no matter how bad you’re hurt.

He entered the house and headed for the bathroom. A shower. He needed a hot shower. Let her wait. This whole blasted mess had been her doing. He shed his wet clothes and turned on the water.

But as warm water eased away the cold and he relaxed beneath the flow, another thought struck him. He stopped rubbing the soapy washcloth over his chest.

Damn, it feels good to be alive, to have survived under my own power. Even if I ended up panting like an old dog in August. Maybe the woman has the odd good idea.

****

“A real gentleman, aren’t you?” Jessi, sitting cross-legged on her mattress and wearing her flannelette pajamas, greeted him as he came out of the bathroom in the robe she’d borrowed her first night at the farm. “You didn’t think twice about dashing into the shower ahead of me.” Her hair still damp and tangled, she held dry underwear and a gray jogging suit as she glared at him.

“Since you were the reason for our condition, I felt I had dibs. Anyhow, you appear to have gotten out of wet clothes and made yourself comfortable.” He limped to the hall closet and reached inside.

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