She’d made it across the parking lot and was resting against one of the dumpsters when someone whistled. It was a taunting sound, one meant to intimidate, not compliment. Blanca had been around enough creeps to know the difference.
Three men, looking like outdated versions of The Outsiders, came around the corner of the last dumpster and quickly surrounded her. “Whatcha doing, bootiful? We’re not goin’ to hurt ya. We only want a kiss.” They alternated saying with drunken slurs.
One man pushed her against the dumpster and drove his knee between hers, forcing his way into position as he grabbed one of her breasts and squeezed. The other two stood sideways, blocking the view from the road and the bar.
“What, a city girl like you too good for us?” he asked, gripping her hair in his hand and forcing his mouth on hers.
Blanca swung her fists, but the men next to her had already anchored them at their sides, away from her body. She couldn’t get any leverage to free herself. She been too disconnected from her senses to even realize they’d grabbed her. She raised a knee but was unable to do more than kick at the man who was already pressed tight against her body. She head-butted him instead and immediately regretted it. Her head spun and her gut rebelled viciously.
The next thing she knew, she was thrown to the ground and someone was on top of her slapping her face and ripping at her clothes. Vomit roiled from her gut to her throat and she rolled onto her hands and knees and heaved violently. The punishment went on for what seemed like forever. She hadn’t even realized she was free until arms wrapped around her from behind and picked her up. She screamed and bucked like a wild animal.
“Shhh, it’s ok,” a familiar voice growled in her ear. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Longbow stood her on her feet and turned her to face him. “What the hell were you thinking coming out here alone?”
Blanca took a cleansing breath and looked around. Jesus and Emanuel were standing over the three men who’d attacked her. They were writhing on the ground in pain. Nikki stood off to the side and was talking on her cell phone. By the sounds of it, dispatch already had the Deputy-Sheriff on the way.
“How did you find me?” she asked the group in general.
Jesus spoke first. “We saw you leave, thought it was another of your fresh air breaks, but when you didn’t come back within five minutes, we got worried. Nikki and Forest were on the dance floor, so we signaled them and came looking for you.”
“It’s a good thing too,” Emanuel said. “It took all three of us to chase these cowards down. They took off running the minute they saw Forest.” He smiled, his gold-crowned front-teeth gleaming in the light of the street lamp. “I would’ve run too, with a madman like him coming for me at a dead run.”
Longbow kept a hand on her shoulder, like he was making sure she didn’t get out of sight while he spoke to the men. “I owe you both. If it hadn’t been for you, our Doc here would’ve become a statistic.”
Jesus shook his head and said. “No problemo. The way I see it, we’re even. I let a tree get away from me, and you let a girl get away from you.” He leaned in and spoke in a low voice as if Blanca wasn’t right beside them. “De hombre a hombre, my friend,” he said motioning from Longbow to himself, “the girl is by far the bigger loss.”
The Deputy-Sheriff arrived and took their statements. By the time it was all taken care of, the three men were being transported to the Idaho City jail and Blanca was safe in her clinic. She’d showered, applied butterfly stitches to her split lip and eye and was waiting for the ok to go home and go to bed.
The disposable scrubs she’d found in one of the cupboards were three sizes too big for her and could’ve passed for pajamas, but it was better than smelling like vomit. She’d taken samples from her clothing and would run them in the morning. Nikki had been doubtful, but if Blanca’s instincts were right, the big cities weren’t the only places where drinks were being tampered with.
Nikki had left Longbow watching over her since her kids were with a sitter. He sat in the waiting area of the clinic, waiting for her. It wasn’t like Blanca didn’t appreciate everything he’d done. It was just awkward, him seeing her like this. Tonight had brought back too many painful memories, and she wasn’t sure she could share them with anyone, especially him.
She stepped into the hallway and shuffled toward the front of the clinic. Maybe Longbow wouldn’t feel like talking. He was probably as tired as she was and just wanted to get home as well. He stood the second she came into view. He winced at her appearance. The hot shower had probably made the bruises on her face look worse than they really were.
The walk to their homes was brief, and she thought she’d gotten off without having to talk about the evening, but she was wrong. Instead of leaving her at the door as she’d hoped, Longbow guided her through it and sat her on the loveseat in her living room. He went through each of the other rooms, one by one, and then returned to sit beside her.
“Place is all clear. All the windows are locked, the back door is bolted and you can bolt the front door when I leave.”
“Do you have to leave?” she asked, despite knowing it was better if he did.
Longbow leaned back and pulled her against him, brushing his hand gently through her hair as her head rested on his shoulder. “I don’t understand you,” he said after a long moment of silence. “One minute you’re friendly and flirty and the next you can’t be seen dancing with me. You put out these vibes like you want the attention but the moment you have it, you pull back and go all loner on me.”
His words jumbled together in her fuzzy brain and it took her a moment to process them. “Wait . . . What did you say about not wanting to dance with you?” She pulled her knees onto the couch, separating the two of them, and really looked at him. He looked worse than she felt. With all the commotion she hadn’t thought about his injuries and how he might have made them worse by fighting with the men who’d attacked her. “Where did you get the idea I didn’t want to dance with you? I waited all night for you to ask me to slow dance, but you never did.”
A look of surprise came over him. “You told Brandi you didn’t want to dance with me. I was standing right behind you at the time.” He scratched his head and ended up pulling the bandana off and wrapping it around his hand. He studied the cloth as he spoke. “How would I know you wanted me to ask you to slow dance when you refused every other man who offered, and only danced in the lines?”
She placed her hand over his and squeezed. “I would’ve slow danced with you in a heartbeat. It was the country swing that worried me. I didn’t want you to hurt yourself. I’m a terrible follower when it comes to partner dancing. I end up trying to lead every time. I knew Nikki would wear you out with her repeated requests and I didn’t want to be any part of that. I wanted to tell her to leave you alone, that you were injured, but I didn’t think it was my place…”
He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “That explains the dancing, but it doesn’t explain your leaving without telling either of us. I would’ve walked you home, made sure you got here safe.”
The kiss on her hand made her jittery inside and her mind instantly formed questions about how it would feel to have those lips on hers. She had to force herself to stay calm and keep from stammering. “It was less than a block. Nikki was dancing with that cowboy, and you were in the middle of a game of pool. I wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t think it would be a big deal. You hardly paid any attention to me, and I thought you weren’t interested in me that way.”
He raised a single eye-brow as if to challenge her reasoning.
The gesture broke her. “All right, I was feeling sorry for myself and just wanted to go home alone and wallow in my misery.”
“For someone who’s afraid of being alone, you sure find plenty of excuses to push others away. You can’t be this enticing island that draws travelers to it with your serene solitude one minute, and then chase them away with a storm of insecurity the next. Which is it going to be? You eithe
r allow people around you that worship your beauty and your brains because you have pride in yourself, or you end up with those who’d strip everything from you on a whim, just because they can.”
“I didn’t ask for what happened to me tonight. You make it sound like I deserved to be attacked by those men.” She backed away from him and stood at the foot of the couch. “I think you should leave.” She motioned toward the door and then crossed her arms protectively over her chest. “I know I have issues, everyone does, but at least I don’t throw yours in your face when you’re beaten and weary.”
“Blanca, I’m not attacking you. I’m not saying what happened was your fault. I’m just saying if you took more pride in yourself, valued yourself more, you wouldn’t take unnecessary risks like you did tonight. Nikki told me before she left the clinic that you suspected someone had spiked your drinks. And yet, you still chose to leave the bar alone. What were you thinking?”
“Obviously, I wasn’t thinking. I was confused and tired and just wanted to go home.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders and then slid them to her face so he could make her look at him. “You deserve to be swept off your feet, escorted home, and tucked into bed every day of your life, but you have to believe it before it can happen. You are a treasure: a beautiful, smart, feisty woman with a great sense of humor. Why is it everyone but you can see that? You come out here to get away from whatever it is haunting you, but you haven’t let go of it, you’ve brought that baggage with you. And if you don’t find a way to rid yourself of it, you'll never truly be safe from yourself. You'll never be able to conquer your fears and change your life for the better.
Blanca stared up at him, overcome by the genuine concern in his eyes. Was she sabotaging any hopes of a future with this man, or any other, out of fear? Or was it habit? Had she become so accustomed to failure in her personal life that she no longer believed in happy endings? What becomes of a fairytale that has no hope? Almost certainly, it withers and dies, she thought sadly.
“I’m leaving for Nevada in the morning,” Longbow said, slowly. “Our crew is being sent to the fires on the Sierra. I don’t like leaving you this way . . . but then again, maybe it’s for the best. It’ll give you some time to think. Some time alone. Who knows, when you find your true self, it may end up being me who gets left behind.”
She shook her head, not wanting him to go, not wanting him to think she could ever forget him. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her gently, a whisper over swollen and bruised lips. She sighed and melted into him, holding his hands against her face at first and then she reached to pull him closer.
He devoured her. Tenderness forgotten, he pulled her against him and gripped her bottom with both hands. He lifted her to sit on the back of the couch as he ran his hands up her back and through her hair. His mouth was hot and consuming, like he was an oven and she a delicate pastry rising to his heated demands.
He broke off suddenly, a look of regret on his face, as if remembering how he’d found her battered and beaten in the dirt not long before. He released her and she slid back into the cushioned protection of the couch.
They stared at each other a moment, both breathing hard and fast. His long hair had come undone and it dangled across his face making him look rugged and wild. Her scrub top hung to one side exposing a bare shoulder and part of her chest. Her lips were even more swollen and a trickle of blood ran from under the butterfly stitches onto her chin.
Longbow shook his head and smoothed back his hair. “Try taking care of yourself as well as you do everyone else while I’m gone, will ya?” He took one last smoldering look at her before he walked to the door and let himself out.
Blanca slumped back into the couch, holding a finger gingerly to her split lip as it briefly curved upward and then tears spilled down her face into her hands.
*****
Blanca knew when Longbow woke, showered, and left his apartment. The beep of his alarm going off, the groan of the hot water pipes filling, and the creek of his screen door as he quietly shut it behind him, all led to the moment she knew she was truly alone.
It could have been worse, she thought. He could’ve come to say goodbye, looked at her with those sorrowful brown eyes, and made her cry all over again. This way was better. She had the bittersweet taste of him on her lips and the smokin’ hot memory of all those taught muscles pressed up against her instead. Yes. Saying goodbye could’ve been worse, much worse.
She suddenly found the inside of her apartment to be too dark and moody. She grabbed a blanket and dragged it onto the back porch where she curled up on the swing and waited for the sun to rise. Birds sang, crickets chirped, and even a bull frog added his voice to the mix, but none of it fazed her. The sun came over the apartment from behind her and quickly the shadows of the night began to fade away. Still Blanca sat, dazed and lost to it all. Nothing was going to lighten the load Longbow had placed on her the night before.
Her eyes drifted to his side of the yard where the garden was. Moisture on the plants sparkled like miniature crystals, but there was something wrong. The plants were sagging, bent over and nearly touching the ground. They looked how she felt, like she was dying inside.
She tossed off the blanket and walked barefooted into the garden. The soil was moist. There’d been plenty of sunshine. A few weeds had popped up, but surely the presence of a few measly weeds couldn’t stunt the growth of an entire garden, could they? She dropped down on her knees and began pulling the weeds by their roots. If one broke off in the ground she dug in after it until she was sure she had cleared its presence from the garden. Once the weeds were gone she sat back on her haunches and considered what else the plants might need.
Blanca spent a good part of the morning at Ward’s Greenhouse finding the right combinations of soil boosters and plant food. She thought back to what Longbow had taught her the day they’d planted the garden—
A good base of soil is critical, but the upkeep is just as important. Water and rain can wash away the nutrients in the soil and leave the plants starving. It isn’t enough to start with a good foundation, one must be diligent with the upkeep, and anticipate the needs of the plants, replenishing what has been lost, thin what isn’t necessary to the heart of the plant, and give them plenty of opportunity to grow.
—She grabbed a couple of tomato trellises, a backdrop of wire for the green beans, and some tarp to cover the plants in case of frost. She would be prepared for anything. She wasn’t letting the garden die. If it was all she accomplished this summer, she was going to have fruit and vegetables to show for her labor.
Upon leaving the greenhouse, Blanca overheard a couple talking about Jax Reynolds.
“It’s too bad he refused to stay at the Elk’s Rehab,” The elderly lady said. “I hear it’s one of the best in the nation. Up here in the mountains, as isolated as we are, they’ll never find a physical therapist to help him.”
The younger man, holding onto the lady’s arm, said. “Now, mother, you know as well as I do how stubborn the men in that family are. They could no more keep Jax away from his family and friends than a ranger can keep a raccoon from ransacking an open cabin.”
The woman nodded her frosty head. White curls, tightly pressed to her temples, bounced with the jerky motion. “I know Doctor Phelps will find someone to help his nephew. That man is unstoppable when it comes to the welfare of those boys. He practically raised all three of them after his wife and sister died in that car crash. Those boys are more like brothers than cousins, and Doctor Phelps is more a father to those twins than his own brother-in-law has been.”
Blanca finished unloading her cart into Daisy and quickly drove home. She had an idea. It may not be the best idea she ever had, but it was most definitely the least defensive one she’d had in a long time. She left her gardening supplies on the front porch and called Nikki.
“Hey, girl, how are you?” Nikki said upon answering the phone.
“I’m good, thanks. I’m a little so
re but no worse for the wear. I was—”
“I heard about Forest shipping out to Nevada first thing this morning. I’m sorry. You gonna be ok?”
“Yes, strangely, I think I am. I was calling to ask you how I get a hold of Doctor Phelps. I need his number . . . actually his address would be better. I assume that’s where Jax is recouping until he’s back on his feet.”
“It is, but what do you want with old man Phelps? Didn’t he threaten to have your license taken away? Didn’t you say he barged into the clinic and walked right in on you while you were treating a patient?”
“He did, but I think I may have overreacted. I had no idea he practically raised the Reynolds brothers after his wife and his sister died. He could have been acting out in fear for Jax’s life, not really anger toward me. And when he barged in on me, he asked if he could have a word with me and I went all cold and formal on him. I told him to call you and make an appointment. I think he may have been coming to ask for my help with Jax’s therapy.”
“Why would Doctor Phelps ask you to help with his therapy?”
“He must’ve looked me up online, found my multiple licenses and learned I mastered in physical therapy before I went on to become a nurse practitioner. I still keep my license up to date. You never know when you’re going to need a bargaining chip. And I think my being a therapist just might be what I need to get in good with the Doctor.”
“Ok. I guess I understand. But why do you care? The old man is done overseeing the clinic. You don’t need his approval or backing.”
“No, but I could sure use his expertise, his years of experience with rural health care. He would make a valuable ally, a good resource in times of uncertainty, and if I’m going to be working closely with all of his boys, it would just be good practice to get to know him for the man he is despite whether or not he chooses to see me as a colleague.”