He didn’t know why his face was buried in long strands of sweet-smelling hair.

A bird squawked in the background and it rattled Rafe all the more when a woman shifted out from under him, sat up and forced him to do the same. What were they doing on the ground? Dr. Robinson. God, had he attacked her?

“Are you okay?” she murmured. “You had a small flashback and fell over a feed bucket. It was my fault. I saw the bucket, but didn’t move it out of the aisle. I swear I’ll be more careful in the future.”

Her cool, seductive touch telegraphed a signal to Rafe’s body. Even though he couldn’t see the woman who hovered so close to him, he was still a man. All man.

Dear Reader,

My extended family is a great, eclectic mix of teachers, cops—including bike and horse patrol—retail people, kids from elementary school to college, and retired and current military. It makes for interesting, lively conversations and endless stories at our family gatherings.

We’re also big supporters of political causes from animal rights to the homeless and nearly all veterans groups. Men and women go to war to protect home and family. Some don’t return. Some come back injured. Doctors and love help put the shattered back together. That’s what Dr. Alexa Robinson and Major Rafe Eaglefeather’s story is all about. Family, love and healing. I hope you’ll come to care for them as I have.

Sincerely,

Roz Denny Fox

P.S. As always, I love to hear from readers. E-mail me at rdfox@cox.net, or send letters to 7739 E. Broadway Blvd, #101, Tucson, AZ 85710-3941.

The Cowboy Soldier
Roz Denny Fox

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Roz Denny Fox has been a RITA® Award finalist and has placed in a number of other contests; her books have also appeared on the Waldenbooks bestseller list. She’s happy to have received her twenty-five-book pin with Harlequin Books and is steadily working toward one for fifty books. Roz worked for a number of years as medical record technician, and then for three pediatricians. She met her husband, Denny, when he was a marine, and they currently reside in Tucson, Arizona, a military town. They have two grown daughters.

To my husband, Denny, who has been my biggest advocate and most loyal supporter from day one.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE

ALEXA ROBINSON SPOKE SOFTLY to the frisky black three-year-old gelding she worked on a lead rope. She’d bought this horse and a mare at a recent breeder’s auction. Usually she gentled the horses she bought into smooth-gaited saddle mounts but she wouldn’t have as much time to work with these. A former customer had said he’d buy the mare for his daughter, provided Alexa could train the horse for barrel racing by the girl’s birthday in mid-December. It was now mid-October, which gave her just two months.

Autumn in the Chihuahuan Desert was dry. Her dog pounced on cottonwood fluff blowing inside the corral. Little puffs of dust flew up from the gelding’s hooves as he danced at the end of the rope. Alexa took her eye off the border collie who stopped and perked his ears toward an aging green van that drove down her dirt road, creating larger dust plumes.

She had few visitors, and didn’t recognize this vehicle. Her ranch was fairly remote, bordered as it was by the Chisos Mountains and the Big Bend National Park. Perhaps a previous customer had recommended her. That would be nice. If she could sell both new horses, the profit should get her through the winter.

The gelding snorted and pulled back as the van came to a dusty stop beside the corral. A dark-haired woman emerged, directing the four children inside to get out their crayons and coloring books. Retrieving a thick manila folder, the woman shut the driver’s door and headed toward the corral.

Assuming she was lost and needed directions, Alexa unsnapped the rope from the gelding’s halter. “May I help you?” she called, slipping out through the gate, making sure it latched securely behind her and the dog.

“I’m Sierra Martinez,” the woman said, holding out a hand. “You’re Dr. Robinson? I’ve come to discuss my brother, Rafe Eaglefeather. He was recently medically discharged from the army,” she said, as if that clarified everything.

Alexa’s smile vanished the instant the word doctor passed the woman’s lips. Withdrawing her gloved hand, she said, “I’m not a practicing doctor, Ms. Martinez.”

“It’s Mrs., but please call me Sierra. Aren’t you an osteopath and an herbalist? I heard that at the feed store. And park rangers told my husband you’ve healed injured animals they’ve found in the park.”

“Animals. Not people.” Alexa hooked her coiled rope over a fence post before she said anything more. Almost angrily she stripped off one leather glove. The wind had dislodged strands of blond hair from her ponytail and she pushed them back behind her ear.

Creases formed between her visitor’s solemn dark eyes. “My husband, Doug, is a border patrol agent. He told me you treated a pregnant woman—an illegal who was badly dehydrated. You kept her here and cared for her until you found her husband. Doug’s partner also told me you set the broken arm of a little boy who fell during a border crossing.”

“Those were emergencies. I had to act quickly. The nearest clinic is miles away.” Alexa bent to pat Compadre who also eyed the stranger with misgiving. “The woman had been abandoned by the scoundrel she paid to bring her to Texas. She was malnourished and frightened. The boy…he cried without making a sound. It would have been cruel to make him travel to the clinic in such pain.”

“My brother’s a war hero,” Sierra said with passionate emphasis. “Army doctors quit on Rafe and discharged him to family. To me. Doug and I have two sets of twins under age six. We all live in a two-bedroom house. Doug’s building an addition, but it takes time. Meanwhile, Rafe’s stuck sleeping in our living room. And I’m convinced he’s being overmedicated. As for follow-up care, he’s supposed to check in at a VA center in Houston or San Antonio once a week. The one time I drove him, we sat in the waiting room for hours, and they only added Valium to his other prescriptions. I can’t make that trip weekly without putting a strain on my family. I’d hoped maybe he could stay here while you evaluate him. Maybe some natural methods can help him. Maybe they’ll make him want to get better. Please. We can pay you.”

Taken aback by the strange request and concerned that so many people knew about her, Alexa nevertheless felt sympathy for the distraught woman. “Money isn’t the issue,” she said. Although she’d been determined not to ask, she did. “Out of curiosity, what’s wrong with your brother?”

“This is his medical record. All the information you need is here,” Sierra Martinez thrust the fat manila folder she clutched into Alexa’s hands.

A quick glimpse into the official chart of Rafe Eaglefeather showed Alexa that he’d been blinded after suffering a head injury when his patrol was hit by mortar fire. He’d also been shot in the leg during the same attack. The reference to the violent injury made Alexa think about Bobby Duval, her lifelong friend. One NewYear’s Eve he wrapped his Jeep around a tree after skidding on ice. E.R. doctors stopped his internal bleeding and removed his spleen. Even after he was released from the hospital, his treatments dragged on. Bobby had grown so weary of being poked and prodded. Alexa was willing to bet that Major Eaglefeather felt the same way.

“What do you think?” Sierra asked as Alexa leafed through the chart. “I’ve also included reports by some of Rafe’s men. They said he fought hard trying to save his whole patrol. Not only was he shot and left blind, he lost his two best friends in the attack. The army gave him ribbons, medals and commendations, and the doctors gave him pills that are supposed to get him through the rest of his life. All they’re doing is making him a zombie.”

Though moved by accounts of the major’s heroism, his apparent lack of will to be healed made Alexa pass the folder back to Sierra. “I’m sorry. I’m no miracle worker.” Alexa tried to keep her voice steady, but her hands shook.

“Please. Do you have any idea how many veterans like Rafe fall through the cracks in our system? When my brother was discharged, the military doctor pulled me aside and mentioned how many commit suicide after they go home. It’s shocking. I don’t want my brother to be one of them.” Her eyes filled.

Alexa spread her hands helplessly. “His case is tragic, I agree. But he needs MDs who are trained to treat the casualties of war.”

“It’s not Rafe’s first tragedy,” Sierra said, blotting her eyes on a sleeve. “When I was sixteen and Rafe fourteen, our parents died in a highway accident. I dropped out of school, got my GED and worked two jobs so we could eat and keep Rafe in school. Our folks wanted more for him than to farm and rodeo like our dad.

“Rafe graduated,” she continued proudly. “He went to college and got a job caring for rodeo stock. Summers he rode in the circuit. He also crusaded to stiffen the rules governing the health of rodeo animals. Rafe loved horses more than winning buckles.” Her eyes cut to the horse in Alexa’s pen. “Rafe’s dream was to own a ranch like yours when he retired from the army,” she said softly.

Alexa knew Sierra was trying to play on her sympathies, but she was determined to stay strong. “How did he get from rodeos to the military, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Nine-eleven happened. Rafe and his two best friends from the rodeo joined the army. My brother was a good soldier. He pulled two tours in Iraq after basic training and was promoted several times before ending up in Afghanistan. It was the first time he and his friends landed in the same unit. Now Mike and Joey are dead, and I’m afraid Rafe wishes it’d been him instead.”

Alexa knew all about guilt. It was the reason she lived here at the ranch her grandfather had left her instead of running her practice in Houston. She’d needed solitude. And now that solitude was being threatened by the gut-wrenching pain in Sierra Martinez’s eyes.

“What do you really know about holistic medicine?” Alexa asked abruptly.

“Our maternal grandmother was a curandera.”

“Ah, a Hispanic healer. I trained with a Chinese herbalist, but I also work with native desert plants. They have many of the same properties as those used by the Chinese.”

“My brother was a vital man once, but his spirit is dead. I believe there is a natural solution that won’t kill his self-esteem—that won’t mask who he is,” Sierra declared, biting her trembling lower lip. “I’m confident you’ll be able to help him.”

“Do you have any family or friends living near a VA facility your brother could stay with while he gets treated?” Alexa felt herself weakening and tried to guard against it.

“No.” Sierra hugged the dog-eared chart to her chest. “Since we lost our parents, it’s been Rafe and me against the world. I know it’s presumptuous to drop in on you. But he’s my brother and I can’t bear to see him like this.”

Alexa’s stomach tightened. As the only child of a busy oil tycoon, she used to long for a sibling. Her dad had had little time for her. Her mom had never understood her, and still didn’t, even though she meant well. Alexa’s compassion for people and animals came from tagging along after the veterinarian who looked after her father’s extensive stable of race horses. And from a true, unconditional friendship with tough-talking, fun-loving Bobby Duval. He’d been like a brother.

Rubbing the V between her brows, she sighed. “I’ll tell you what…if your brother agrees, and if he signs a release allowing alternative care, I’ll consent to treat him on a thirty-day trial. He can help out on my ranch in trade. If he shows no improvement after a month, or if I think he’s losing ground, I want a promise you’ll help him move somewhere closer to a VA outpatient facility.”

Sierra’s face flooded with relief, and she nodded. She gave Alexa back the thick medical file. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I know Rafe will agree. I’ll bring him tomorrow after I drop my older twins at school. I’ll pack the basics for him, but if you think of anything else he might need, you can always call me.” Without waiting for Alexa’s response, Sierra hurried to her van. Leaping in, she revved the engine and drove off amid plumes of dust so like the ones that had first caught Alexa’s eye. Alexa choked on the billowing particles and wondered what in heaven’s name she’d done.

RAFE EAGLEFEATHER STILL SAT in the same porch rocker he’d been sitting in when his sister left to run errands. He couldn’t say how long she’d been away, except that a small pile of shavings had accumulated at his feet from the piece of wood he was whittling into a pony.

He felt the breeze and heard the footsteps of his sister’s four kids as they scuttled silently past him to get into the house. That meant Sierra had stopped to collect Curt and Chloe from school. He let them go by without speaking to him. Both sets of twins had been born while he was out of the country, so they didn’t really know him. Sierra had told them their uncle Rafe was blind and couldn’t see to play games with them. Besides, that was the last thing he felt like doing.

“Hi, Rafe.” Sierra sank into the chair beside him. “I’m sorry I was gone so long. I wish you wouldn’t whittle when I’m not here.”

“Doug gave me the wood,” Rafe said, folding up his pocketknife.

“I know, but I worry you’ll cut yourself. It looks like you’ve been at this project awhile. I’ll get a broom and sweep up after I start supper.”

He bent and tried to pick up the wood curls. “I know you asked me to use a waste basket in the house, but I figured the shavings would blow away out here.”

“It’s okay. Come inside. I need to make a meat loaf.”

“You go ahead. I like being out in the fresh air.” It was the truth, Rafe thought. “If I bought a cot, I could sleep out here on the porch.”

He heard Sierra sigh.

“Oh, Rafe. I’m sorry you’re stuck on the couch. Doug’s been so busy he hasn’t had much time to work on the addition.”

“No problem, Sierra. I don’t care where I sleep.”

Rafe could sense his sister’s hesitation in the short pause that followed.

“Uh, Rafe, I need to talk to you about something,” she said at last.

Whatever it was, Rafe realized, his sister was worried that he wouldn’t like it.

“There’s a healer who lives a couple of hours away,” she continued. “A woman. She uses herbs in place of pharmaceuticals. I went to meet her and had her look at your medical report to get her opinion. She’s nice, Rafe, and lives on a ranch with horses.”

Sierra was speaking to him the way she would to her children, Rafe thought. He felt a gentle hand rest on his knee.

“Her name is Dr. Robinson. She’s willing to work with you for a month—see if she can help you get off those antidepressants. What do you think?”

He thought that Sierra just couldn’t seem to accept that he’d be like this for the rest of his life.

“Say something, dammit!” Sierra pulled back and withdrew her hand from him.

“Say what?” Rafe asked.

“The old Rafe would tell me to stop meddling in his life. Where’s your spunk? It’s your life, your future I’m trying to save, Rafe.”

He knew his lack of response frustrated his kindhearted sister, but there was nothing he could do to change that.

“I’ll go if you want me to,” he said. “But the truth is…I couldn’t see in Houston. I can’t see here. That’s my future, Sierra.”

“No it isn’t. You’re only thirty-five. That’s why I want you to see this doctor. You have a lot of years ahead of you and I’m going to do everything I can to make them good ones.”

Rafe made no comment to that.

Sierra touched the collar of his shirt, then she kissed his cheek. “I’m going inside. Doug should be home soon. I know he’ll want to eat and try to do some framing on the addition while there’s still daylight. We’ll go to Dr. Robinson’s tomorrow after I drop Curt and Chloe off at kindergarten. I’ll see if Doug’s sister is available to watch Maris and Melina for a few hours. They’d go crazy cooped up in car seats for such a long drive.”

“They’re good kids, Sierra. I hear you tell them not to bother me but I wish you wouldn’t. This is their home. I’m the intruder.”

“Never. You’re family. And if you think I’m shuffling you off to Alexa Robinson’s to get rid of you, that’s simply not true. I’m praying you’ll come back the old Rafe.”

“That’ll take a miracle.”

“Then I’ll say novenas.”

“A novena only runs nine days. The military docs worked on me six months.”

“Dr. Robinson is giving you one month. So I’ll do three novenas.”

Rafe heard the screen door slam, so obviously she’d missed his shrug. Bless her heart. Sierra refused to believe he really didn’t give a damn.

BY LATE AFTERNOON the next day, Alexa was prepared to take Sierra Martinez aside and tell her she’d made a mistake. How would it look to customers coming to see about horses or the park rangers who occasionally brought her sick animals if they found her living alone with a patient. Or even if word got around that she was treating human patients. She’d been hurt by lies and rumors once and didn’t want to go through that again.

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.”

“Well, at least come out and learn how to navigate the rest of the house.”

“No, I prefer to stay here.”

Alexa struggled to remain patient. “Okay, suit yourself tonight. But even if you’re not hungry, there’s a hot mineral springs on the property. It’s therapeutic and you’d be amazed at how relaxed you’ll feel if you take a dip right before bedtime. I’d go with you, of course.”

He shook his head. “Not interested. I plan to turn in early.”

Alexa began to simmer. But he was the patient and she was the doctor, she reminded herself. “Tomorrow, then. We’ll get a fresh start. If Compadre makes a nuisance of himself, boot him out and shut your door.”

Hearing his name, the dog sat up, whined a few times, then laid his furry chin on Rafe’s knee. Alexa watched the man stroke the animal’s silky ears. “He’s fine,” Rafe said in a quiet voice. “I had a dog as a boy. A mongrel. We had to give him away when my parents died. Couldn’t afford to feed him. Chip. That was his name. I haven’t thought about him in years.”

He looked so vulnerable sitting there, steeped in memories of the pet he’d lost, and Alexa found her throat tightening in sympathy. Her reaction was totally at odds with the irritation she’d felt barely a minute ago. “I’ll, uh, go now, and check back later to see if you need anything. Oh, I forgot. There’s a small fridge in the closet. I wasn’t sure what drinks you liked, but I left a couple of bottles of water, a fruit juice and noncaffeinated soft drinks.”

“Beer?” He turned toward her.

“Sorry, alcohol doesn’t mix with all those high-velocity meds you already took today. But that’s something we can shoot for. Call it a carrot to wean you off those psychotropic drugs.”

“Psycho-what?”

“Sorry, doctor speak for antidepressants and the like.”

“Oh.” He sank back in the chair and closed his eyes. A sign their conversation, such as it was, had come to an end.

Alexa hurried down the hall, her mind already cataloging the herbs that might work as substitutes to help him start withdrawing from the most potent of his drugs.

After eating a salad by herself, she went into her office and pulled out the notes she’d made on Rafe’s current course of treatment. She skimmed them then sat down at the computer and searched the Internet for information on returning soldiers. A number of them came home suffering intermittent bouts of deafness from unspecified causes. But almost all cases of blindness could be traced to IED explosions that left shrapnel buried in the head. Rafe’s physical exams, including extensive X-rays and MRIs, revealed no foreign objects other than bullets in his left shoulder and thigh, both of which had been removed.

Alexa tapped a pencil to her lips. She wondered if anyone was studying the residual effects of severe concussion around the brain.

She flipped back to the detailed account of the firefight given by a young private—one of six men Rafe pulled to safety while he took and returned fire. Apparently saving half his patrol wasn’t good enough for Rafe Eaglefeather. He was the type of guy who’d feel guilty for not saving them all.

Alexa could relate to that.

Feeling weepy for no good reason, she shut down her computer and got ready for bed. She crawled under the covers, and it struck her that for the first time since she’d nursed Compadre back to health, he’d abandoned her for Rafe. Really, she didn’t mind. Dogs intuitively sensed which human needed the most attention.

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, Alexa heard loud shouting.

Rafe.

Bolting out of bed, she wrapped herself in her silk bathrobe and stumbled down the hall. Had he fallen on his way to the bathroom? Halfway to his room she heard Compadre whining.

The bedroom door stood ajar and she could hear Rafe thrashing about, shouting men’s names, urging them to find cover and protect their heads. His medical file had noted episodes of post-traumatic stress flashback. Aware how violent some PTSD patients got, Alexa debated whether or not to enter his room. She had withheld his sedatives that night. Had it been a mistake?

Still, he was under her care. She cracked the door wider. Thanks to a huge harvest moon filtering through the upper portion of one tall window, she saw Rafe sit up, shudder, and rub his forehead with the heels of his palms. Then he spoke softly to the anxious collie, who had both front paws on the bed.

Relieved to feel her own pounding heart settle, Alexa continued to hover, unsure if she should announce her presence. The doctor in her argued yes. But she went with her feminine instincts. A macho, tough-guy like Rafe would be embarrassed to have anyone, especially a woman, witness what he would perceive as a weakness.

As the dog quieted and settled back down on the floor beside Rafe, she withdrew and stealthily pulled the door closed behind her.

Unfortunately, she was too keyed up to sleep. After witnessing Rafe’s flashback, she realized she needed to focus more on alleviating his stress and tension than researching old Chinese remedies for blindness, so she went to her office and started making a list of restorative therapies. Lists made order of chaotic feelings.

But what if she got it wrong? What if her treatments made no difference, or God forbid, made Rafe worse?

After long hours of research, Alexa felt certain that the approach she’d come up with would do him no harm.

Around 4:00 a.m. she crawled back into bed, but her mind was filled with a new worry. Healing could happen only if the patient had the will to make it happen. And the million-dollar question was, did Rafe Eaglefeather really want to get well?

CHAPTER TWO

AT APPROXIMATELY SIX, after only a couple of hours of sleep, Alexa bustled about her kitchen fixing breakfast. Her mind mulled over possible chores Rafe might do. From his file she knew that he’d been sedentary in the months before his discharge, and she had a feeling that Sierra wouldn’t have pushed him to exert himself. But Alexa had no intention of letting him waste his mind or that finely honed body.

Compadre padded into the kitchen and went straight to his kibble bowl.

“Hey, boy. Is your new friend up and around?” Alexa moved a pot of oatmeal to a back burner and glanced expectantly down the hall. Rafe wasn’t in sight, and she couldn’t hear the shower or other sounds of him moving about.

Deciding she’d better check on him, she cracked open his door and saw he was still lying in bed. “Rise and shine,” she hollered. “Breakfast is ready and we have chores waiting.”

A muffled “Go away” came from under his pillow.

“What is the army term for get your butt out of bed, soldier? Sorry I don’t have a bugle. If you didn’t bring an alarm, I’ll give you one for tomorrow.”

“You’re pushing your luck, Doc.” Rafe’s voice sounded raspy. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Neither did I. The animals out in the barns don’t care. They need to be fed and watered.” Alexa pushed the door wider, strode across the room and yanked off Rafe’s covers. She immediately wished she hadn’t. Rafe Eaglefeather slept in the raw.

“What in hell do you think you’re doing?” Rafe’s head popped out from under the pillow, which he hastily jerked down to cover his privates.

Alexa’s heart wrenched at the sight of the red scars marring the bronze flesh of Rafe’s hip. A second scar ran from his rib cage to what looked like a bullet exit wound near his collarbone, just below his right shoulder.

She steeled herself against uttering the sympathetic retort that came automatically. She didn’t think Rafe would appreciate it.

“The oatmeal is getting cold,” she said. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes to show you the way to the kitchen. Call me if you need me.” Before she left she headed over to the window and threw open the curtains with unsteady hands.

Rafe winced, so she knew his eyes were sensitive to light.

He scowled. “I’m a civilian now, and I don’t have to take orders from you or anybody.”

“Oh yes, you do. For the next thirty days, unless you call your sister to come get you, you’re my patient. Put simply, that means I outrank you, Major.” Alexa walked out, Rafe’s succinct expletive echoing behind her.

THE DOOR SLAMMED SO HARD Rafe heard it click and bounce back open again. He sat for a minute contemplating if he would continue to resist or just give in. His roar had sent seasoned military nurses skittering from his room, but it didn’t seem to faze Dr. Robinson.

He swung his legs off the bed and counted the steps to the chair where he’d left his clothes. He couldn’t help but be intrigued by her. She was a woman who spoke with a velvet voice but acted with hardfisted resolve.

Pulling on the clothes he’d worn yesterday, Rafe wondered if Alexa had flinched at the sight of his scars. Even though he’d never seen them himself, he knew they weren’t pretty. He had that on good authority from several battle-hardened nurses who had changed his bandages after each series of surgeries. And within his hearing, doctors had discussed his wounds in gory detail.

But why in hell did it matter to him if Alexa Robinson had recoiled or not? No woman was going to look at him now with anything but pity.

This was not the first time since he’d woken up in a field hospital alive but blind that Rafe regretted he wasn’t one of the lucky soldiers who had a wife waiting at home. A loyal, loving wife. Several guys in his shot-up unit had wives who were just glad to see them come home. Rafe didn’t want to, but at a gut level, he envied those men.

If he wasn’t careful, he mused, making sure he had gotten his shirt on with the tag at the back, he might start imagining Dr. Robinson as a possible candidate. God, but she smelled good enough to eat. Or did he think that because he’d had his fill of medicinal smells and the acrid odor of war? When a man lived too long in rough surroundings, he lost touch with the gentler things in life. But the few times Alexa had come and gone from his room, he hadn’t missed the clean, summery scent she left in her wake.

He gave himself a hard mental shake. As far as he was concerned, the doctor was being a hard ass, and he’d better keep it at that.

ALEXA WAITED THE FULL fifteen minutes. She started down the hall, but stopped when she saw Rafe emerge from his bedroom. He walked slowly and with an odd gait because he kept one hand resting atop Compadre’s furry head.

“There you are,” she called over her shoulder as she beat a hasty retreat and waited for them in the kitchen.

“Yeah, Dog is as persistent as you are,” Rafe muttered.

“I named him Compadre. He’s more like a friend than the other animals I doctor back to health. He’s been with me almost a year. I pulled him half drowned from the Rio Grande when it flooded. I asked the park rangers to put out the word to try to find his owner, but no one came forward. He seems to like living here.”

Rafe merely grunted.

She pulled out a chair. “Here, have a seat at the kitchen table.”

Rafe grasped the chair back and awkwardly felt his way around the cushioned seat until he seemed sure enough of his bearings to sit.

Alexa picked up a teapot. “I’m pouring you some tea.”

“I prefer coffee.”

“Tea has greater healing properties. If you think of your plate as a clock, I set your mug at two o’clock. It’s quite hot, so be careful.”

Alexa anxiously watched Rafe pick up the sturdy mug and take a sip.

He promptly gagged. “What the hell? Are you trying to poison me?” Rafe set the mug down with a thump that sloshed tea over his hand. “Ow, dammit.” With a mutinous look, he raised his burned fingers to his lips.

Grabbing an ice cube out of the freezer, Alexa made him hold it on the rapidly reddening web between his thumb and forefinger. “I probably should have warned you I’d brewed tea from wood betony and basil today. It’s very therapeutic.” She purposely didn’t tell him she’d chosen those herbs to help him cope with stress. She knew from former male patients, that men shied from any suggestion they might have mental or emotional problems.

“Therapeutic or not, it tastes like shit. If I can’t have coffee, I’ll drink water.”

“But the herbs in the tea will help you…regain strength,” she finally said.

“Strength isn’t what I’m lacking. I’ve lost my sight. No damn tea is gonna help me see again. Where’s the oatmeal you said was ready? At least that should taste normal.”

At the stove, Alexa paused. She’d already stirred in a small amount of lemon balm and vervain tincture into the hot cereal, although oats alone were thought to act as a minor antidepressant. She tasted the mixture, made a face and quickly sprinkled brown sugar over the portion she’d spooned into Rafe’s bowl.

“I’ll take mine with milk—good old cow’s milk. We had goat’s milk in Afghanistan—talk about rank.”

“Uh, milk. Just a minute.” Alexa quickly removed the small pitcher of warm goat’s milk from the table and rummaged in the refrigerator for the carton of regular milk she’d bought on her last trip into town. She sniffed it to make sure it hadn’t spoiled.

“Here’s some nonfat. Sierra didn’t mention you were such a picky eater.”

“Nonfat?” he parroted. “So, I guess you’re on a diet.”

“No way.” Alexa unconsciously ran a hand down her slender hips. “Why on earth would you think that?” she asked rather huffily as she dumped milk on his oatmeal and stuck a spoon in his hand.

He hiked up one shoulder. “Sierra switched to one-percent milk after her pediatrician said too many American kids are overweight.”

“True. But in my case, nonfat has a longer shelf life. I don’t go to town often.”

Rafe ate a few bites of the cereal, then lifted his head. Alexa held her breath, waiting for him to complain about the taste of the oatmeal. Instead, he said, “It took Sierra a long time to get here once we left the highway, so your place must be really off the beaten track. What’s the story behind that?”

“The story?” Alexa scrambled for something to say. She wasn’t about to bring up Bobby, so instead, she settled on part of the truth. “My grandparents owned this ranch, so it was only logical for me to take it over. My primary occupation is gentling horses to sell to families who want a well-trained saddle horse. I think I mentioned the hot springs my grandparents discovered here. That’s another plus. My grandfather had degenerative arthritis and the springs were therapeutic for him. The area’s perfect for me because it’s so sparsely settled and the herbs that grow around here are uncontaminated. I gather native plants in my spare time.”

Rafe scarfed down the rest of his oatmeal, and swallowed the pill she handed him before he stood. “It’s really none of my business. Your life, I mean. I shouldn’t have been so nosy.” Dropping his napkin on the table, he waved a hand in the air around him and seemed noticeably relieved when Compadre trotted up to head-butt his fingers.

“Where are you going?” Alexa asked, quickly finishing her own oatmeal. “Give me a minute to rinse our dishes and stick them in the dishwasher, then we’ll go feed my menagerie.”

“I’m going back to my room.”

She pursed her lips. “There’s a three-quarter bath off the kitchen if you need to use the facilities before we go out to the barns.”

“I don’t need the bathroom.”

“Then wait here a minute. It’s closer to the barns if we go out the back door.”

“What do you expect me to do there?” Rafe asked churlishly. “You know damned well I can’t see spit. I’ll be in my room until you call me for lunch.” He started off, Compadre at his side.

Feeling a prick of sorrow, Alexa was inclined to let him go. But to do what? There was nothing worse for him than to sit around all day with nothing to occupy his mind but the loss of his eyesight. So she forced herself to toughen her heart. “Hold it right there, Major. Horses pay the bills and put food on the table at this ranch. If you plan to eat three squares a day for the next month, you’ll pull your weight around here.”

“Did Sierra ask what your services cost? I’ll pay for my keep.”

“I don’t want your money. I want you to stop acting like an invalid.”

ANGER BOILED IN THE PIT of Rafe’s stomach at Alexa’s high-handedness. He could follow her out to the barns and fail miserably, proving his point. Or he could call Sierra to come get him and end this stupid charade. Then he thought about Sierra. How she’d placed so much faith in his coming here. He’d worried her enough already and wouldn’t add to the burden. “Okay, Doc. You win another round. We’ll try it your way today.” He swung back toward the table, but knocked over the chair where he’d been sitting, and instantly froze.

Compadre started to bark and dance around his legs, and Rafe didn’t know which way to turn. He was furious at being so clumsy, and the anger he’d already directed toward Alexa Robinson for putting him in such an untenable position doubled.

He realized she was speaking to him, calmly telling him where the fallen chair was in relation to his left foot. “If you bend your knees and put out your left hand, you’ll feel the chair back, and you can set it upright.”

Rafe followed Alexa’s instructions, shocked that she didn’t rush right over and pick up the chair for him, which was what would’ve happened with the hospital nurses or Sierra and Doug. Once he had the chair on solid footing, he felt a rare sense of accomplishment, the first he’d experienced since his injury. “Thanks,” he said gruffly, begrudgingly giving Alexa a sliver of respect. “I hate the way everyone treats me like a cripple. It’s almost worse than being sent home with a medal while buddies I should’ve saved came home in caskets.”

“The term used now is disabled, not crippled. And I have high expectations for you.” Alexa placed a couple of items in his hands. “Slip on these sunglasses and we’ll be on our way. You’ll need the gloves in the barn. Count how many steps it takes you to get to the barn from the back door. Counting steps and remembering the number puts you on the first rung of the ladder to independence, Major.”

That put her up another notch on Rafe’s judgment scale. “I recall asking you to call me Rafe. I was discharged from the army months ago.”

“Okay, but then don’t call me Doc. I’ve never been one of the seven dwarfs.”

Rafe cracked a partial smile. “You got me there.”

They exited the house with Dog, Alexa providing running commentary about the landscape.

Interest in what she was saying kept Rafe placing one foot in front of the other until she announced, “This is it. We’re at the first and smaller of my two barns. This is where I house the wildlife that park rangers find in their travels and bring to me. That started after I pulled over on the road one day to help a fawn someone had hit. The ranger dropped by to see how the fawn made out and found her well enough to return to the wild.” He felt her touch his arm. “On your left is the corral I use to train three-year-old horses I buy from an area breeder. The horse barn is eighty to a hundred steps behind this one, and sits at the edge of the woods, which is the end of my property. Next to the horse barn, I have a chicken coop and a pen for…uh, other domestic animals.”

Rafe wondered why she sounded hesitant, but decided not to ask. He took a deep breath and felt the tightness in his chest ease. “The air smells of horses and a whiff of cedar. It sorta reminds me of home. Sierra and I grew up in Terlingua, west of here.”

His words stoked memories of the carefree days when Mike, Joey and he rode bucking broncs to the buzzer all summer long. Afterward, the three of them enjoyed cold brewskies at a local bar. Whichever man walked out with the prettiest girl had to pay the tab. But, his buddies were dead. His fault. He’d been their leader, after all.

By this time, Alexa had led him into the barn, and suddenly, Rafe found it impossible to breathe.

Pungent air, thick with the aroma of earth and animal dung, set his head spinning. The clang of metal on metal as the door banged closed behind them shot him straight back to the last trek he’d made through the Afghan mountains. That sound meant one thing—bullets striking their equipment jeep. Familiar earthy smells of goats and the unwashed bodies of the men who tended the flocks threatened to choke him. Innocent looking goat tenders often hid automatic weapons under their worn robes. His body rigid, Rafe was sure he could smell goat, and he started to shake. His patrol should take cover. Where were they?

Someone was touching his arm, and a quiet voice said, “You’re fine, Rafe. This is Texas. As soon as we finish feeding all the stock, we’ll go soak away your anxiety at the hot springs. If that’s not enough, I’ll throw in a peppermint-oil back massage afterward. I know yesterday you nixed the idea of a trip to the springs, but I guarantee, once you step into the water, you’ll be hooked forever.”

Her voice ricocheted like gunshots inside Rafe’s head. Desperate to flee, to find his patrol, he wheeled and tripped over an empty feed bucket and went sprawling. The clatter of his boot on the tin bucket sent the animals around him into a frenzy. He could hear a mountain lion hiss and snarl, and a great owl hooted and flapped its wings. Squirrels chattered nonstop and he heard the shriek of a hawk.

The animals must be warning him of an impending attack. Rafe grabbed Alexa’s legs and threw her down on the ground. He flung an arm over her torso and barked a series of staccato orders. “Don’t move a muscle. Let the heavy artillery rout out the enemy.”

“Easy,” a soothing voice whispered. “You’re okay. Breathe deeply.”

Gradually his pounding heart slowed to a normal rate, and he heard the gentle patter of an animal’s paws approaching just seconds before a wet tongue lapped his face.

Rafe was aware that he was emerging from a flashback. Part of him understood that the threat hadn’t been real. But a major portion of his brain was still befuddled. It made no sense that his face was buried in long strands of sweet-smelling hair. Again, a bird squawked in the background, and it rattled Rafe all the more when a woman shifted out from under him, sat up and forced him to do the same. What were they doing on the ground? Dr. Robinson. God, had he attacked her?

“Are you okay?” she murmured. “You had a small flashback, Rafe.”

The question had him sweating profusely. Was he getting worse? He hadn’t had a single flashback at Sierra’s. This was his second since coming here.

“You fell over a feed bucket,” Alexa said, scrambling to her knees as she began calmly checking his face and arms for cuts or bruises. “It was my fault. I saw the bucket, but didn’t move it out of the aisle. Feed buckets belong on wall pegs, not on the barn floor where they can trip people. I swear I’ll be more careful in the future.”

Her cool, seductive touch telegraphed a signal to Rafe’s body. Even though he couldn’t see the woman who hovered so close to him, he was still a man. All man.

His fingers flexed around Alexa’s upper arms and he pulled her forward until he could feel the outline of her soft breasts against his chest. It frustrated him to not be able to see her face—her lips. He knew they parted invitingly, because he felt her gasp, and tiny puffs of her sweet breath tickled his mouth. His grip tightened as he savored the thought of how those soft lips would taste.

“Rafe?” She wedged her hands between them, pushing his chest gently, but firmly. “You’re still hallucinating. I’m your doctor. You’re my patient. Snap out of it, Major.”

The embarrassment of the situation slammed hard into Rafe. What was he doing? Disgusted with himself, he dropped Alexa’s arms like they were torches of fire.

“This whole idea of me helping you feed your animals is stupid,” he shouted. “It’s obvious I’m totally useless.” He struggled to get to his feet, and when he was upright, he ordered, “Take me back to my room. Right now.”

He heard Alexa lift something down from the barn wall.

“I’ll clip a leash to Compadre’s collar,” she said in a neutral voice. “If you want to go to the house, let him lead you. I happen to have chores to finish.”

Rafe wound the loop of leather around his wrist, and although he’d been stung by Alexa’s taunt, he followed the dog out into the fresh air.

Only after he was inside his bedroom did he allow himself to acknowledge his shame. Not so much for the flashback. He had no control over those. But he had turned tail and bailed on Alexa. One thing Rafe had never been was a quitter.

For an hour he paced the room, trying to think of a way to redeem himself with Alexa. He had hated lying around, useless in the hospital. And he’d been in the way at Sierra’s. Alexa was the first person who seemed to believe he could be independent. If he stopped being pigheaded and listened to her, maybe he could learn to live on his own. That appealed to Rafe. Prior to the debacle in the barn, he’d felt invigorated. Sierra believed his loss of sight was caused by a block to his brain. He wasn’t so sure about that himself, but maybe if he started depending more on himself than on others, he could eventually function on his own, as Alexa believed.

Rafe wondered if she was the kind of woman who needed to make a man grovel for forgiveness. He didn’t grovel well. On the other hand, he wasn’t above turning on a little charm to see if that would get him a second chance.

ALEXA FELT A LITTLE GUILTY at dredging up busy work in order not to go back to the house until suppertime. Professionally, she knew patients sometimes hit on their doctors. And Rafe had been suffering some type of flashback. But the real problem lay with her. She found Rafe attractive. And she wasn’t a desperate woman living in an isolated area. One park ranger in particular had hinted he was interested in her romantically, and she’d ignored him without a problem.

But she’d come within inches of kissing Rafe. There was no question about it, though—getting involved with Rafe would be ethically wrong and violate doctor-patient trust. In any case, Rafe had undoubtedly been thinking of some other woman today when he’d reached for her. Someone from his past. Or maybe he’d just been looking for comfort. Right now he was probably regretting coming here and packing his duffel to leave the ranch. But no matter what he decided, her professional code of conduct was intact. No romantic fraternizing with the former major, regardless of how compelling a man he was.

Shortly before dark, she entered her house through the back door and found Rafe and Compadre standing in front of the open fridge. Guilt rose up in her.

“I’m sorry, but I got tied up cleaning stalls. Time just got away from me,” she fibbed.

“No problem,” Rafe said lightly. “As you pointed out this morning, this is a working ranch. Care and feeding of stock comes first.” He shut the fridge door. “I thought maybe I could fix us an easy meal. Maybe soup and cheese sandwiches.” His shoulders drooped slightly. “But, I couldn’t find bread or cheese. I feel bad for being here and causing you extra work.”

So he wasn’t going to mention the incident in the barn, Alexa thought. Well, neither would she. “I came in fully expecting you might have phoned Sierra to come pick you up.”

Rafe crossed his arms and leaned on the counter. “The truth is, I like it here. I especially like the fact that you don’t take any crap from me. I want to learn to do things for myself again. Can we start over tomorrow—on a better footing?”

He looked so boyishly contrite, an errant black curl or two falling down over his forehead, that Alexa couldn’t have refused his request if she’d wanted to. “That sounds good to me.” She figured she might have to rethink her approach. “Give me time to shower, then you can help me fix soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“Sure, but I figured you’d want to soak in that hot spring you keep talking about.”

“Another day. We both skipped lunch. Compadre cleaned his dish, I see.” Alexa picked up the empty bowl and took a bag of kibble from a cupboard. She thrust both into Rafe’s hands. “There’s a cup in this sack. Put two cups full of dry dog food in this dish and set it on the rubber mat on the floor across from the fridge. Compadre will thank you and so will I. Fifteen minutes. Twenty, max, and I’ll be back.” She hurried into the office that sat adjacent to the kitchen and led to her rooms, ignoring the anticipation surging through her.

The rest of the evening went off without incident. Neither she nor Rafe made any reference to what had happened earlier. Rafe was the first to head off to bed.

“I found you an alarm clock,” Alexa told him. “It’s set for seven.” She passed the clock to Rafe. “I’ll go out at six and feed the wild animals, then come back and make breakfast. I’ve been thinking that working with the horses will probably suit you best.”

“I used to have a real rapport with horses,” Rafe told her. “Of course, back then I could look one in the eye and show him who was boss.”

Alexa refused to let herself respond to the regret in his voice. Hope and confidence were important tools in the medical arsenal, both for doctor and patient. “Rome wasn’t built in a day,” she said. “We’ll go slow. Being active restores energy, so the work will be good for you. I’ve got some new herbal combinations I think you should try.”

“Just so you know…I’m not drinking any more of that crap tea. It tasted like dirty dishwater.”

Alexa laughed. “I’m planning to brew up a little skullcap and passionflower tea tomorrow.”

“I hope you’re kidding.” Rafe shuddered as he left the kitchen.

ALEXA HADN’T BEEN TEASING.

Rafe chugged down a full cup of tea the next morning but said nothing. And he seemed in better spirits when the two of them, with Compadre, started for the horse barn.

“Are you raising a particular breed of horse?” Rafe asked.

“Andalusian.”

“I’ve never worked with any of those. But horses are horses, right?”

“I chose the Spanish breed for several reasons. They’re tall, strong and intelligent, and have a good temperament. Most of my clients want gentle riding horses. I buy two or three at a time from a reputable breeder. Mares and geldings. I gentle them over time, and get them used to trail rides. But one of the mares I have now needs to be trained as a barrel racer.”

“Really?” Rafe appeared interested. They entered the large barn, and this time there were no flashbacks. The mare she’d mentioned, named Esperanza, whinnied and nuzzled Rafe’s neck the minute Alexa led her out of her stall.

“I think she likes you.” Alexa clipped a rope to the mare’s halter and handed the lead line to Rafe. “You want to take her into the corral? Put her through her paces?”

“You’d trust me to do that?”

“It’s a big, bare dirt corral. I showed you where it is. Give it a whirl. I’ll feed my saddle horses, then pop out to see how you’re getting along before I take Tano, Esperanza’s brother, into the smaller exercise pen.” She handed him a pair of sunglasses and reminded him to cover his eyes before she opened the double doors that led into the corral. “You need to protect your eyes from sunburn since you can’t tell how bright or intense the sun actually is.”

The mare pranced out into the sunshine, forcing Rafe to jog out, too. Alexa kept Compadre from getting under his feet.

Standing just inside the barn, she watched the pair. Rafe got off to a rocky start, stumbling around the corral, but then he managed to stabilize his footing. Smiling, she made the dog come with her as she measured oats for Tano and her own two mares and one gelding.

When she was finished, Alexa returned to lean on the top rail of the corral to watch Rafe put Esperanza through changing gaits. She was struck by two things. First, there was a look of pure joy on his face. Second, he dug in the flat heels of his combat boots, wrapped the rope around his narrow hips and coaxed the exact gait out of the horse that barrel racers wanted.

Alexa whistled approvingly. “Hot dang, cowboy, y’all have that little lady eating out of your hand. I haven’t been able to get her to transition like that from a walk to a trot to a canter. You’re the man.”

Rafe directed a wide smile over his left shoulder toward her voice. It singed Alexa’s insides, and she felt the heat all the way to her toes.

Lordy, a scowling Rafe Eaglefeather had been a sight to behold. But when he smiled, he was pure devastation. Alexa felt knocked off-kilter. Then, for no reason at all, fear moved in, welding her to the top rail. Memories of Bobby swirled. She had failed him, and herself as well. What if her infusions, herbs and needles were no more than the hocus pocus Bobby’s parents had claimed? Alexa shivered in spite of the sun.

Compadre set his paws on the middle rail of the corral and nudged Alexa’s leg with his cold, wet nose, as if to say, look at me. You doctored me back to health.

Jumping down, she swept him into a hug. “I promise to give your new buddy my best, boy.”

The collie licked her face.

But not even Compadre’s vote of confidence could alleviate her concern.

CHAPTER THREE

“IF IT’S OKAY WITH YOU, I’d like to spend some time again tomorrow working with the mare,” Rafe said as he and Alexa walked into the house for lunch.

“Fine with me. Like I said, Esperanza performed better to your commands.”

“Really? Are you just saying that to pump up my ego?”

Alexa went over to the sink to wash her hands. “Like your ego needs pumping. You’ve got a healthy supply of machismo, Rafe.”

“Are you saying I’m full of myself?”

Best not to reply to that, Alexa thought. “Is a cold ham-and-cheese sandwich okay with you?” she asked instead.

“Whatever. Food is food. You seem to be trying to change the subject. I thought you doctors always laid the truth on the line.”

Alexa dried her hands and took down two plates from the cupboard. The truth was he looked damned sexy the way he casually propped one lean hip against her kitchen counter. He hadn’t lost his military bearing, nor had he grown soft from lying around. His cheekbones and jaw were angular, but the small cleft in his chin kept his features from being too sharp.

“Your attitude sucks and you have a mile-high chip on your shoulder.” That was one truth Alexa wasn’t reluctant to share.

“That’s calling a spade a spade.” Rafe’s lips thinned as he processed her blunt statement. Compadre woofed softly, gazing anxiously up at the man who’d stiffened beside him.

Alexa quickly prepared their lunch and set the plates on the table. “I put cut-up fruit on the side. Do you want a spoon or a fork for that?”

“Are you sure it’s normal fruit, or some herbal crap like clover and dandelion leaves?”

“They’re not fruits,” Alexa said, snatching a whistling teakettle off the hot stove, “and that’s the attitude I’m talking about. If I was treating you for infertility, I would use red clover buds and marigold flowers. But I honestly don’t know what cures sarcasm.”

She could see that Rafe tried to keep a straight face, but he couldn’t quite manage. His laughter seemed to roll up from his belly.

“Great,” Alexa shot back. “You’ve been hiding a sense of humor. Here. Sit down. These are apple slices and cantaloupe cubes from a melon I picked fresh this morning. You’ll be happy to hear that today’s tea is cinnamon,” she added, pouring their mugs full of the spicy-scented brew.

Rafe took his seat as instructed and Alexa sensed how relaxed he felt.

She unfolded her napkin. “If you feel up to it, I thought maybe after lunch we could go for a ride.”

“Where? Into town? I could buy some groceries.”

Ignoring the dig at her food, Alexa said, “I meant go for a horseback ride. Sorry, I should have been more clear.”

Rafe swallowed a bite of sandwich. “I need to be able to see to direct a horse.” All levity had disappeared from his tone.

“I wouldn’t have suggested a ride if I didn’t think you could do it, Rafe. There are two or three easy park trails we can pick up just down the road. They’re wide enough to ride two abreast. Plus, my horses are docile.” Alexa could tell he was interested, but still debated the issue with himself.

“Docile, huh?” He gave a little snort. “Why bother saddling up, then? I might as well just sit in my room in the rocking chair?”

“Cute,” she shot back. “Getting out helps sharpen other senses. I wouldn’t send you out alone, Rafe, but people who have lost their eyesight still do sports—they ski, surf, play golf. Life changes with the loss of a limb or hearing or sight, but it doesn’t have to end.”

“Mine should have.” The bitterness was back in his voice again. “Some of the guys in my unit who died that day had wives and kids. One had just got engaged.”

Alexa didn’t know what to say. He radiated guilt. She picked up her sandwich, but found she didn’t have much of an appetite anymore.

“I was the man in charge,” he added gloomily.

“Living here, safe and sound, you have no idea what it’s like in the thick of war. No idea what it’s like watching pals bleed to death because the enemy has you pinned down and there’s not a damned thing you can do.”

The apple slice Alexa had put in her mouth turned to sawdust. She knew exactly what it was like to lose a friend while she was in charge. Even now she could feel the shock of Bobby’s hand going cold in hers. But she couldn’t bring herself to share that with Rafe. One of them had to stay positive. “Only God is infallible,” she said, almost to herself.

“Funny, my general said the same thing the day he stopped by my cot in the field hospital.”

“What did you decide about the horseback ride?” Rising, Alexa collected their plates. “The weather’s near perfect, and my horses need exercising.”

Rafe unclenched his hand. “It’s probably foolish, but you’re right about the weather. I may as well take advantage of catching some rays. It won’t be long until storms start rolling up from the gulf.”

When they were ready to go, the dog headed toward the door with them. He stretched and yawned, then trotted up to nudge Rafe.

“You can’t go this time, Compadre,” Alexa said, stooping to rub his head.

“Why not?” Rafe asked.

“Park rules. Pets aren’t permitted on park trails, and if campers bring dogs, they have to stay in camp and be leashed at all times. Wild animals do roam the park.”

They headed out the door to the barn, Alexa’s hand on his elbow to guide him.

“Oh, that makes me feel better about riding blind,” Rafe grumbled.

Scoffing, Alexa gave his arm a friendly punch. “Not to worry, big guy. I’ll save you from the raccoons, jackrabbits and skunks.”

“Thanks,” he drawled. “I’m more concerned about the coyotes, javelina and black bear.”

“Hmm. I’ve ridden the lower trails almost daily for five years and have never seen a bear or javelina. You’re more likely to come across a two-legged beast who’s fleecing frightened illegals and sending them on their own through the park to hit the highway that leads to Alpine.”

“They could be more dangerous,” Rafe said thoughtfully.

“They’re scum,” Alexa burst out. “And they go to great lengths to avoid a law-abiding citizen who has a cell phone.”

“Okay, you’ve sold me. I’m counting on you and your phone to protect me.”

She smiled at that, but of course he couldn’t see. “Do you want a mare to ride, or a gelding?” she asked. “I have two mares, Gigi and Willow. And a gelding, Loki.”

“Are they all Andalusian?”

“Loki’s an American quarter horse. The mares are no specific pedigree. How about you take Loki and I’ll ride Willow today. I took Gigi out last time.”

“I’d offer to help saddle up, but…” Rafe followed Alexa into the barn then stood awkwardly, acting out of place.

Alexa looked at his steel-toed combat boots, camouflage pants with cargo pockets and khaki T-shirt. She was about to suggest a clothes-buying spree when his cell phone rang.

Rafe dug the phone out of a side pocket and answered. “Hi, Sierra,” he said after a moment. “Still can’t resist checking up on me, huh?”

Alexa could hear a higher pitched voice coming over the line.

“I guess I’m doing okay,” he said. “I helped train one of Alexa’s horses to change gait on command. She and I are about to head out on a trail ride in the park.”

He listened intently, all the while making faces, which drew a laugh out of Alexa.

“Yep, I said the same thing, Sierra.” He nodded. “Alexa promised it’ll be a cakewalk. What? She asked me not to call her Dr. Robinson. Sierra…there’s no one out here to worry about proprieties. Okay, you worry, I’m going riding.” He accepted the reins Alexa pressed into his right hand. “Gotta go,” he told his sister. “I’ll phone later and let you know how I did on the ride.” Clicking off, he tucked the phone away and gave the saddle a shake to test the cinch.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping on purpose,” Alexa said. “Is your sister concerned about our lack of formality?”

“It’s a Hispanic thing. Our mother was a stickler about using titles. A sign of respect, according to her.”

“Ah, so your mother was Hispanic and your dad Native American?” Alexa inquired casually as she dropped down the fender and stirrup she had hooked over Willow’s saddle horn while she cinched up the mare. “I didn’t think about cultural taboos. If it bothers you, please go ahead and call me doctor.”

“That’s Sierra’s hang-up. I take after my dad. We Native Americans are more laid-back. And Alexa is a pretty name. Unless you object, I’ll continue using it.”

Alexa felt the heat of a blush climb her neck. Shaking it off, she crooked a finger through both bridle rings and quickly led the horses out into a leaf-dappled, autumn afternoon. “Does anyone ever like their name? I hated mine. Kids at school called me Alex. They said my parents probably wanted a boy. I asked, but my mom insisted it’s short for Alexandra, which was my dad’s grandmother’s name. My first-grade teacher said it means to help, or defend. Maybe that’s why I became a doctor,” Alexa added, giving Rafe the barest assist into the saddle. He sat straight, although he seemed a tad uneasy.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve tossed a leg over a horse,” he said, as if reading Alexa’s thoughts. “Feels good.” He tested the stirrups for length and made sure Loki understood his rein signals.

Alexa swung up easily. “This pair of horses tends to want to gallop to the trail head. You may have to exert some pressure to hold Loki back to a trot.”

“If Loki is sure-footed and the ground’s fairly even, why don’t we try a short gallop?” Just being on a horse seemed to give Rafe a confidence Alexa hadn’t seen up to now.

“Your call,” she said. “It’s less than a half mile. And Willow can keep pace.”

Rafe gathered the reins in his left hand. His grin reminded Alexa of an emerging sunbeam. Then he loosened his grip, and like a shot, horse and rider bolted. Alexa almost didn’t catch up. And she was winded when she reached the tree line where Loki had slowed.

“Phew, are you all right?” She anxiously studied Rafe as she brought Willow back on her haunches less than a nose behind Loki’s tail.

“Are you kidding?” Rafe said. “I love feeling the wind in my face. Honestly, I never expected to ride like the wind again.”

Alexa couldn’t see behind the shades he wore, but his voice sounded slightly choked and she wouldn’t be at all surprised if Rafe had a tear in his eye. That humbled her.

“Quite a feat of trust,” she said, emotional herself. They entered the trail and rode under an arched canopy of old-growth trees. “I think loss of sight is the most difficult of all the five senses to lose.”

“I agree,” Rafe said. “A blind person is forced to rely on other people for so many things.” He grew silent for a moment. “There’s something else that bothers me. You know, for all the time we’re spending together, I have no idea what you look like, Alexa. Please, can you describe yourself for me?”

She blushed, flustered by his question. Did he care how she looked, or was he just curious? Best to take his request with a little humor. “I could tell you I’m a dead ringer for Cameron Diaz.”

“Who?”

“Come on. You weren’t injured that long ago. Soldiers have zillions of movies at their disposal.”

“You got me. Diaz is a babe. And you just made my point. Without sight I’m at your mercy.”

“Well, who can describe themselves accurately?” she said hotly. “It’s not easy.”

He slowed Loki. “I guess you’re right. I don’t know what I’d say other than I’m six foot tall and have black hair. It used to be military short, but it’s probably shaggy now.” He ran a hand through his thick, black curls, then rested it back on the pommel. “This is where you reel off your stats.”

Before Alexa could say anything, a pair of teacup-sized birds calling jay, jay, jay swept out of a tree, startling the horses. Beside her, Loki reared and came down stiff-legged. Willow bolted, running the length of two football fields before Alexa regained control. By that point the trail had made a horseshoe turn back toward the ranch and Alexa lost sight of Rafe.

Guiding the mare around, she galloped back to where a still-nervous Loki tossed his head and crow-hopped first to one side of the trail, then the other. But Rafe had him in check. “What happened?” Rafe asked. “I heard your horse take off running, and I didn’t know if she’d thrown you or not.”

“Blue jays happened. When Loki was a colt, one dive-bombed him. To this day their noisy chatter is enough to send him off. I’m sorry. I should have warned you. But you handled him well, Rafe. Willow surprised me. Normally she’s unflappable.”

Rafe’s expression had darkened with concern.

“Shall we head on?” Alexa proposed. “This trail makes a big U back to within yards of where we started. We’re about at the halfway point.”

“What if you had been bucked off when the mare spooked?” Rafe demanded, his voice angry.

“I’m fine, Rafe,” Alexa said soothingly.

Rafe sliced a hand through the air. “Don’t patronize me. You could’ve gotten hurt bad, and what in the devil could I have done about it?”

“Stop borrowing trouble,” Alexa snapped. “This trail is wide and flat. We’ll have a nice, relaxing ride back to the ranch.”

“I didn’t see the jays—I didn’t know what the hell happened,” Rafe insisted. “For all I knew you could’ve been dragged off by a bear.”

Rafe was overdramatizing and Alexa grew impatient. Then, she tried putting herself in his shoes. Yes, he was a big, strong man, a former soldier. But he was living in a dark, scary world. “Rafe, it really is rare to encounter any predators on these trails. Bear, mountain cats—they all live higher in the mountains. You were enjoying our ride. Don’t worry about something that will likely never happen. Don’t let it stop you from venturing out of your comfort zone.”

“Are you really a shrink and Sierra didn’t tell me?”

“Sorry if I sound preachy. I only wanted to reassure you. There’s no need for you to act testy.” Alexa touched Willow’s flank and started off along the trail.

He caught up to her. “If I’m testy, maybe it’s because you took away the pills that made me more tractable.”

“Tractable?” Alexa raised her voice. “They made you catatonic. Tell me you don’t like feeling…emotions,” she said, groping for words. “Even if they’re painful.”

He rode along in silence for a minute, massaging the back of his neck with his free hand. “If honesty is what you want, then yes and no. I don’t like…” It took Rafe a long time to search for the word he wanted. “Remembering.”

Alexa could sympathize. For months or more after Bobby’s death she would have loved to block the hurtful, pain-filled memories with a pill. How could she admit to Rafe that she still needed herb teas and mineral soaks to help her sleep most nights? But that was a burden she couldn’t share. “Pills that turn you into a mechanical man aren’t the answer. That kind of pain doesn’t go away so easily, Rafe, it only gets buried deeper.”

“Says you.”

“Says me!”

“Is that why you chose to be an osteopath? Because MDs are too free handing out pills?”

“I became an osteopath because I graduated high school at fifteen and medical schools had age restrictions for entry.”

“You graduated high school at fifteen?” Rafe whistled. “You must be a genius.”

“Gifted is today’s term.” Alexa felt a pang of guilt. She hadn’t been completely honest with Rafe. In fact, she had applied to medical school and been accepted, then…life changed.

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