“So thirsty.” Jaxi lifted her face, and he examined her flushed cheeks. She licked her lips, her eyes half-closed with heavy lids. Her head lolled back slightly, and he raced to deposit her on the bench seat and find her a drink. Her hands shook as she tilted the water bottle, and he reached to help her before she sloshed the contents all over.

When she crawled away from him to the passenger side of the truck, wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and settled her cheek on the seat, he was tempted to dump the remaining liquid in the plastic bottle over his head to cool his own raging fever.

Blake leaned on the side door and adjusted his dick, willing the damn thing to admit defeat and retreat. That hadn’t been too bad. Behind him, Jaxi moaned and his cock jerked. No, not too bad at all if he was a masochist. His only hope lay in her feverish confusion to last long enough she thought he was Travis. As long as she didn’t talk to Travis in the next while about trying to ride him like a pony on the trip home.

Oh hell, he might as well face it. He was dead.

Blake crawled into the cab, wincing a little at the tight confinement of his jeans. Jaxi wiggled closer, resting her head back on his thigh, the tangled strands of her loose blonde hair covering his crotch. He brushed the wisps away carefully in the hopes she wouldn’t wake from her stupor.

“Oh, Slick, what a mess.”

He glanced up and adjusted the rearview mirror that had gotten bumped during their tangled encounter. A bright red mark on his neck caught his eye, and he groaned in frustration. Like he was going to be able to explain that one easily. He shook his head and aimed the truck for home. In his lap, Jaxi’s feverish cheek burned a hole into his thigh while his unanswerable lust burned a hole in his conscience.

Chapter One

Rocky Mountain House, three years later

“I’m fine, boys, stop your fussing.” Marion Coleman shook her good hand at the twins as they hovered nearby. “I didn’t need the wheelchair. It’s a silly hospital policy.” She shot to her feet, batting Jesse and Joel away.

Blake offered his help, and she smiled, the edges of her mouth remaining tight and the lines at the corner of her eyes deep. She might make light of the situation but it was clear her arm hurt. A lot. She tucked her fingers around his elbow and dragged him across the hospital parking lot, her rapid pace unhampered by the heavy cast covering her right arm from wrist to shoulder.

They stopped beside one of the huge crew-cab ranch trucks, the twins scrambling into the backseat. Marion stared in disgust at the hand pull she couldn’t reach.

“Why did you boys all have to grow to over six feet? None of you own a nice little Jetta or Mustang for me to be able to slide into. Just these monster trucks. I have to use a ladder to reach the seat.”

“You fed us too well.” Blake worked at remaining gentle as he lifted her to the bench, careful not to jar her arm. He’d closed the door and stepped around to the driver’s side before he realized it was impossible for her to buckle her seat belt with the cast in the way. He slid behind the wheel and reached to help her. “Let me get it, Ma. You’re going to find things a bit awkward for a spell.”

“I hate this.” Marion stared past him out the window, a touch of fury in her eyes.

“Maybe you should have waited for help picking the apples,” Joel piped up from the backseat.

“She did ask, you jerk, remember?” Jesse said. “First we had to finish the back field before the weekend, then Dad asked us to—”

“This is no one’s fault. You boys are all busy, with the hay ready to be cut and the animals to care for. I wanted to get the apples before you had time to help me and, well, I’ve never fallen out of a tree before in my life. Been climbing that one for years.” His mom wiggled around in her seat to shake a finger at her youngest sons. “It was an accident. I don’t blame either of you, so don’t you think you did something wrong. But now I’m going to need some help. Not only do I have a bushel of apples to deal with, there’s the garden that needs to be put up, laundry for the family and the cookin’ and…” She returned her gaze to the window. “I’ve caused a mess, boys, and that’s the plain truth.”

Blake touched her hand softly. His ma was a hard-working woman and not just at the ranch. She’d toiled beside his father for over thirty years, doing everything inside the house, plus caring for and raising six boys, gardening and dealing with the livestock. In addition to her chores at home, she’d always been there for the community, for newcomers and new babies, and whenever a person needed a helping hand.

Having a broken arm was going to bother her a lot—the pain of it mending, and the annoyance of everything she’d be unable to do for a while. Sitting and watching others work was not her style.

“Well, I guess it’s time the neighbours get a chance to show a little lovin’ your way and come to give you a hand.” Blake hoped she’d actually allow people to step forward.

“Blake Coleman, I’ve never done anything in my life in the hopes to be repaid.”

He backpedaled. “That’s not what I meant. We know you do things because you want to help others, Ma, but you’ve got to accept the friends who come to chip in. I’ll do what I can—we all will. Even though we’re temporarily back under your roof doesn’t mean you have to feed us and tend to our needs. It’s not as if we haven’t all cared for ourselves before. We’re big boys. In fact, you need to let us know what we have to take over for you.”

Marion shook her head. “You say you want to help, but when are you going to manage that right now? The fall is the busiest time of year between the animals, the fields and the furniture orders. You can’t add my chores to your list. Everyone else in town is just as busy.”

She lifted the cast in the air tentatively. “I’ll figure out how to work around this. I’ll get by.”

Blake looked in the rearview mirror and exchanged worried glances with his brothers. Something had to happen. He didn’t know who was available, but sooner than later, his ma was right. They were going to need help.


Blake’s truck rumbled up the long drive toward the Colemans’ ranch house, past the cars in the parking area, right to the head of the circular driveway. News had always traveled fast in small towns, even before the invention of the cell phone. Jaxi turned from the kitchen window she’d been staring out, grabbed her tray of food and headed quietly into the main living area.

The neighbours and community folk who’d stopped in shifted from the living room onto the front porch to watch Mike Coleman approach like a bull headed for his mate. He’d been in Calgary fetching supplies when Marion had fallen. By the time the boys contacted him, there was no time to get to the hospital. Marion was already in a cast and being brought home.

Mike yanked open the truck door, lifted his wife carefully and carried her to the foot of the stairs, ignoring her loud complaints at his behavior.

“I’ll carry you whenever I want, woman. Don’t you ever scare me like that again.” He placed her feet on the ground and held her as close as the awkward cast allowed. One long tender kiss on her forehead followed before he turned her to face the concerned onlookers. “Well, she’s still in one piece, folks. I guess she learned to bounce pretty good.”

As a few of her friends surrounded Marion to talk, Mike guiding her up the steps, Jaxi slipped away from her perch just inside the door to pour more coffee. She placed a couple of plates piled with cookies and squares on the long family table for people to serve themselves, then snuck back into the kitchen. Mike followed her, a sigh of what sounded suspiciously like relief escaping his lips.

“You’re an angel. Thanks for helping on such short notice.”

Jaxi grinned. “Mrs. Wade and Mrs. Leaner brought the baking. There are four casseroles in the fridge, and another six in the freezer. If you freeze anything else that arrives—”

“Whoa, girl,” Mike interrupted. “I want to talk to you. I chatted with the doctor when he called, and he told me Marion’s going to need some assistance for a couple weeks. Around the house and personal like. I’ll do what I can, but you’ve got the training and he recommended you. You have the time to come and help us? It won’t require a lot of nursing.”

“I’m not a nurse, Mr. Coleman. I do have a first aid certificate.”

“And a bit more.”

Jaxi nodded. The strange assortment of classes she’d completed at the local college and through correspondence courses over the past couple of years didn’t give her a degree. Still, her training had covered many areas. Personal care she could do.

“It’s short notice, but Dr. Yale thought you were free.”

Jaxi washed her hands in the sink and bent to get a new hand towel from the bottom drawer. “He should know. I’ve been acting as a nanny for him and Katie, but she’s decided to stay home and care for the kids herself. My last day was Friday.”

Mike clapped her on the shoulder. “Will you do it? We’ll figure out some sort of pay rate for the nursing and such.”

She turned to face him, smiling to soften the words. “Please don’t talk about paying me. You and Mrs. C have always been there for me, and I’d love to return the favour.”

“The thing is, you won’t be able to do anything else to earn money. She’s going to need you here twenty-four/seven at first. And now that I think of it, there’s the garden that needs to be dealt with. I don’t want to swindle you. We’ll pay. I insist.”