"I'm great, Jake. Better than great, actually."

He sighed. "That's good to hear. I was a little worried when I got the message that you weren't coming in to work." She explained that Ryan wanted to apply for their marriage license later. "He doesn't waste any time," Jake observed. "You sure this is the right thing, Bethie? Marry in haste and all that. No need to get in a rush."

"I've never been surer about anything, Jake. I love him so much it hurts."

Long silence. Then Jake said, "Pardon me for bringing it up, but just yesterday weren't you blubbering in your beer, disappointed with the sex?" "Where on earth did you get that idea?" "From the bartender." Bethany's face went hot. She drew the line at discussing the particulars of her love life with her brother.

At the same time she understood that he was concerned and needed some reassurance so he wouldn't worry.

"I wasn't disappointed. I was afraid Ryan was." Bethany couldn't think how to explain. "But that's all behind us now. Everything is marvelous." "Marvelous, huh? You sure, Bethany?" "I'm positive. Please, don't be worried. I love him so much, and he loves-" She heard something behind her and glanced guiltily over her shoulder. Ryan wouldn't be happy to hear her discussing their relationship with Jake.

Instead of Ryan, it was T-bone behind her. Bethany stared into the bull's vacuous brown eyes, not sure if she should scream or say hello. She glanced toward the sliding glass door, recalling Ryan's warning that T-bone barged in if it wasn't kept closed.

The bull let out a bellow just then that was so loud it seemed to vibrate the walls. "Holy hell, what was that?" Jake asked.

"A bull." Bethany imagined T-bone butting her as she'd seen him butt Ryan. This was no laughing matter. If her chair tipped over, the bull could very easily trample her. "I have to go, Jake. I'll call you back."

"Aren't you in the house?"

"I, um ... yes," she admitted faintly.

"That sucker sounded close, like he was right on top of you."

He was right on top of her. Almost, at any rate. "I'm fine, Jake. I'll call you right back." Bethany broke the connection and tossed the phone on the sofa. "Hello, T-bone," she said shakily.

Long strings of drool hung like shoestrings from the bull's broad muzzle. He nudged Bethany's arm.

She half expected him to send her flying with a hard shove, but almost as if he sensed she was different, he was very gentle instead. With a trembling hand, she scratched behind his ears as she'd seen Ryan do.

"I suppose you'd like a carrot. You stay right here, and I'll run fetch you one." And throw it outside, she thought, gulping down terror.

She hurried toward the kitchen. T-bone followed docilely. Once at the refrigerator, she endured wet snuffles while she dug through the vegetable drawer. The bull seemed to like her perfume and the smell of her shampoo. He kept sniffing her ear and hair. She plucked out two carrots and gave him one, hoping to get around him while he ate it.

No such luck. The bull blocked her way, trapping her in the kitchen with him while he enjoyed his treat. When it was gone, he mooed for another. Bethany shivered in the cold draft coming from the open refrigerator as she fed him the second carrot then dug in the drawer for more. Her heart caught when she saw there were only three left. T-bone would devour those in no time at all. What would he do when she had nothing more to feed him?

It wasn't long before Bethany found out. "That's all," she said in a quaking voice. "Time to go now, big guy." T-bone nuzzled the front of her blouse. When he discovered her armpit and dove his nose in to sniff, she gave a startled laugh. "There's no food in there. That's deodorant, you goofy animal."

T-bone sniffed her chest, giving her breasts gentle nudges. Bethany began to relax. He gave no indication that he meant to butt her. He was only curious. She sighed and began petting him. "Do you like fruit, you big clown?" She moved to the bar and plucked an apple from the bowl. "Here. Bon appetit"

T-bone ate the apple whole. He seemed to love it. Bethany quickly handed him another one, which he also devoured in a couple of chomps. She started to laugh. "How do you feel about bagels and low-fat cream cheese?"

As if she'd rung a dinner bell, Tripper woke up and hurried in. The fat golden lab sat next to the bull, tongue lolling, brown eyes fixed imploringly on her. She grabbed the bag of bagels and gave the dog one of those. T-bone sniffed the bread but politely turned it down. He loved bananas, however, and ate three.

That was how Ryan found Bethany a few minutes later, holding court in his kitchen with his bull and dog in attendance. T-bone had discovered the marvel of Bethany's skirt and was attempting to learn what was under it. She giggled and shoved at his massive head.

"What is it with the guys around here?" she asked the bovine with a tinkling laugh. "No, T-bone."

Ryan leaned his elbows on the breakfast bar and watched her for a moment, trying to imagine the reaction of any other woman he'd ever dated had she been cornered in his kitchen by a bull. Hysteria, surely, and screams to rattle the windows. But here was Bethany, in a wheelchair, calmly petting the huge galoot, as if finding a bull in the house was an everyday occurrence. Ryan had never been more certain that she was the only lady in the world for him.

"Are you spoiling my critters?" he finally asked. She jumped with a start, then laughed when she saw him there. "Ryan. I'm glad you're back. I have this little problem."

"That's eight hundred pounds of problem, darlin', nothing little about him. I was hoping he'd find himself a love interest and stop hanging around so close to the house. Instead, he's up here trying to make time with my lady the first moment my back is turned."

She flashed him a beaming smile. "No worries. Your lady has eyes only for you. I was afraid at first, but it's almost as if he knows I'm different."

The bull chose that moment to try to get under her skirt from another angle. "He's noting the differences, all right. He's seen Mom a few times, but otherwise, he's never been around ladies much."

"I mean different in that I'm handicapped. You wouldn't believe how careful he's been."

"That's good to hear. I'd hate like hell to have to shoot him."

"Oh, no!" She looked horrified at the suggestion. "Please, don't even think it. I'd feel so awful. Just look at how gentle he's being."

Ryan had to admit the bull was being uncharacteristically gentle. He smiled slightly, wondering if those big blue eyes of hers worked on bulls just as they did on men. Over at the stable a moment ago, he'd encountered Sly, who had gone on and on about how special this young lady was. "One look into them big blue eyes, and my old heart flat melted," Sly had told him.

Ryan smiled, recalling the sappy grin on Sly's weathered face. "He sure seems to be taken with you," he told Bethany, not entirely sure if he was talking about the foreman or the bull. "How'd he get in the house, anyway?"

She rolled her eyes. "I forgot and left the slider standing open."

Ryan sighed. "Dumb critter." He stepped around the counter and gave his bull a gentle swat on the rump to get his attention. "Come on, T-bone. Time to go back outside before you decide to take a dump on my floor."

Bethany wrinkled her nose and shuddered. "What a thought."

Ryan got the bull turned, then shooed him outside by brandishing his Stetson. He shut the sliding glass door, feeling sad. Now that Bethany would be around all the time, something would have to be done about T-bone. Ryan couldn't take a chance that the bull might hurt her. Next time, T-bone might get ornery with her. By nature, he was an unpredictable creature.

"Don't even think about it," she said.

Ryan turned to find her sitting behind him. Her big eyes searched his.

"I mean it," she said shakily. "It was my fault he got in, but he was a perfect gentleman. If he's gone the next time I visit, I'll never forgive myself." Ryan slapped his hat against his leg. "I'm afraid he'll hurt you." She gazed past him at the bull that still stood on the deck. "You owe him the chance to prove he won't.

I'll be careful around him, Ryan. If he gets obnoxious a single time, I promise to tell you immediately. How's that?"

Ryan glanced through the glass, remembering T-bone as a baby. It was a damn fool thing, a rancher turning bulls into pets. He'd named T-bone after a cut of steak, hoping it would serve as a reminder of that, but T-bone had been sickly, forcing Ryan to care for him, and in no time, he'd started to love the puny critter.

"I'll think on it," he said softly.

"Are you going to be one of those husbands who thinks it's his right to make all the decisions, no matter how I feel or what I say?"

Ryan shot her a bewildered look. "Of course not. This is different."

"That's what they all say." She lifted her stubborn little chin-a feature he'd noticed the very first time he saw her. "If you shoot that bull without just cause, I'll never forgive you. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"

He chuckled. "Are you going to be one of those wives who pokes her nose into my business and offers an opinion whether it's wanted or not?"

She hesitated. Then that chin came up again. "Probably. I was raised on a ranch. It's not as if I know nothing about raising cattle and horses."

"I was hoping you'd say that." He sent his hat sailing toward the coat tree. The Stetson hit the hook, spun, and then settled, pretty as could be. "So when are you going to quit that desk job and help me run this place?"

"You want me to quit my job at the store?"

"If Jake can figure out a way to get along without you, I could really use your help here. There aren't enough hours in the day for me to get everything done. I need a partner, someone I know I can trust. You'd be a damn good stable manager. You know your horses and love them as much as I do."

A gleam of interest entered her eyes. "I couldn't manage the stables, Ryan. I'm in a wheelchair." "Not a place over there you can't reach now," he reminded her. "I'll have you riding as of next week. You can keep books, give orders, oversee the help, and handle business over the phone, same as I do. Name me one thing you can't do just because you're in a wheelchair." "I can't do any of the actual work." "That's not part of the job description. The hands will do the work. Managers manage. That's why they're called managers. Even if you weren't in a wheelchair, I'd paddle your fanny if I caught you doing any heavy work. Not my wife. Now that the ranch is doing so well, we hire able-bodied men to help with all that, which is a much better setup. My dad hated it when he had no choice but to count on my mom to do a man's job, and as much as she loves ranching, you'll never see her at the business end of a pitchfork anymore."

"A man's job."

Ryan saw a glint of feminine pride in her eyes, and he rushed to clarify that statement. "You know what I mean. Very few women have the muscle to safely buck hay or lift a struggling calf. It ate at Dad to see Mom doing things that he was afraid might injure her back. She's not a whole lot bigger than you are. It was never a question of respect or equality. She has always been his equal here on the Rocking K, but no matter how you slice it, she's put together differently, with a more delicate bone structure and less muscle to support it. That's all I meant."

A twinkle of laughter replaced the glint in her eyes. "I'll accept that so long as you'll concede that a woman has the brains to figure out a way to compensate for her lack of strength to get the job done if it's necessary."

He grinned. "I won't argue that point. But it's never necessary now."

She relaxed and smiled wistfully. "It's a very tempting thought. I'd love to be a part of all this." She glanced out the slider at the stable. "But what if a mare went into labor?" "You'd call the vet out, same as I do." She laughed and rolled her eyes. "You have an answer for everything. The sad fact is, even if I can start riding occasionally with you, I'll be unable to mount or dismount a horse without help. A stable manager who can't ride? I don't think so." Ryan kept his gaze fixed on hers and struggled not to smile. "We've about got a sling finished for you. All electric."

"What?"

He stepped over and leaned down, bracing his hands on the arms of her chair. "A sling. The seat is made of nylon, and it's tailored to fit. Once you're in the saddle, it unhooks from the pulley ropes, and you can wear it while you ride. When you get back to the stable, you just reattach it to the hooks, and it'll lift you off the horse and onto the chair again."

She stared blankly at him for a long moment. "A sling," she repeated expressionlessly, as if she'd never heard the word. "For the stable?"

"Designed especially for you. It wasn't that difficult. We already have electric slings for the horses. We modified one. My grandpa was a machinist, and Dad inherited his knack for designing gadgets. Mom made the sling seat for you on her sewing machine. All of us ride, and we love it. We know what a joy it'll be if you can get on a horse any time you want."

"Oh, Ryan."

"It was no big thing," he said, half afraid she was getting upset.

She glanced past him at the door. "It's in this stable?"

"Mom's still putting on the finishing touches. It'll be done before your saddle gets here."

"And it works?" she asked softly. "How can you know if it works?"

Ryan realized then that she was afraid to believe him, that it meant even more to her than he'd imagined it might, and she didn't want to get her hopes up, only to have them dashed. "That was Maggie's contribution. She's about your size. Mom fitted the seat to her, and she was our guinea pig. It lifts her on and off a horse, no problem. She made sure not to use her legs, tried to pretend she couldn't. Got her in the saddle, slick as a whistle."

A smile moved slowly over Bethany's trembling mouth. 'Can I see it?"

Ryan heaved a silent sigh of relief. "Sure. Right now, if you'd like."

"I'd like."

Bethany couldn't believe her eyes when Ryan demonstrated how the sling worked a few minutes later. She stared up at the ceiling tracks attached to the rafters. She was dreaming, surely. Paralyzed women couldn't buzz out to the stable and hop on a horse to go riding like a normal person.

Ryan Kendrick didn't seem to understand that. Instead he looked at a problem from all angles, recruited his wonderful family to help him, and devised some crazy way to make the impossible happen. She imagined Keefe and Ann Kendrick, along with Rafe, Maggie, and Ryan, all gathered in this stall, puzzling and working, trying to make a small miracle happen for her.

Never say cain't. Ryan had told her he believed in that motto, but this was beyond her wildest imaginings. A stable lift, her ticket to freedom. She'd be able to get on Wink any old time she liked and feel the wind on her face again.

She searched Ryan's beautiful, steel-blue eyes. The love for her that shone in them was impossible to miss.

"I hoped it'd make you happy," he said.

"I'm speechless. This is-well, it's incredible, Ryan. I think I'm dreaming. I'm afraid someone will pinch me awake, and you'll vanish in a puff of smoke." "Nope," he assured her. "I'm real, and you're stuck with me. "Oh, I hope so. Forever will suit me fine." He rubbed his jaw and gazed at the lift. "It just occurred to me that maybe I'm throwing too much at you at once."

"Oh, Ryan, no. Aside from Wink, this is the most wonderful gift anyone's ever given me."

"I don't want to push you. We Kendricks-that's a fault we have with the women we love. I don't mean to come over you like a high wind. It's just-well, it sort of runs in my blood, I guess. My dad, with my mom. And you wouldn't believe how Rafe was with Maggie.

We Kendricks tend to be a little pushy."

"A little?" Sly poked his head in through the doorway. "Son, you Kendricks are like bulldozers. When you set your sights on a lady, she don't have a chance." He winked at Bethany. "Mornin', darlin'. How you doin' this bright and sunny day?"

Bethany wished she could step over and hug him. Instead she looked him straight in the eye, trying to tell him with her eyes what she couldn't say aloud, that she would never forget last night and that she'd treasure his friendship. "I'm wonderful, Sly. And you?"

"Ain't never been better." His eyes twinkled as he glanced from her to Ryan. "Looks like he got over his orneries, and you lived through the experience. Knew you would, of course. Just like his daddy, that boy.

Strike a match to his temper, and he may tear hell out of everything around you, but when the dust settles, ain't a hair on your head gonna be mussed."

Bethany smiled. "He got a little lippy, but I just slapped him up alongside the head and told him to behave himself." Sly nodded. "Good for you, darlin'. Only way to handle him." Ryan muttered something under his breath and gave the foreman a narrow-eyed look. "You need something, Sly?"

"Nope." Sly chuckled and winked at Bethany. "I best stop makin' eyes at you. Now his jealous is gettin' up." He started to leave, then stopped and turned back. "Rafe went to get your daddy, by the way. He said if we was to wait 'til you pried yourself away, your daddy would be so het up, he'd act like a rabid badger all the way home."

Ryan chuckled. "We Could've sent Mom. She can handle him."

Sly winked at Bethany. "You hear that, darlin'? You watch Annie in action. She'll teach you all you need to know."

Bethany laughed. "Is that right?"

Sly's weathered, sunbaked face creased in a smile. "Damn straight. Ain't a man alive with the guts or wherewithal to tangle with Keefe when he's in a stir. But our Annie will go toe-to-toe with him, one hand tied behind her back."

Bethany raised her eyebrows. "Really? And who wins?"

"Annie," Sly said with a wry chuckle. "Hands down, no contest. Keefe give up on fightin' with her some twenty years back. He just shakes his head and lets her go. Most times, she's right anyhow, so it works out good."

Ryan sighed. "Sly, do me a favor and just shut up. Don't go putting ideas into her head."

"I hate to tell you this, son. She was born with ideas in her head. She don't need me to put 'em there."

Sly left then. Ryan gazed after him for a moment, then laughed and gouged the dirt with his boot heel. "Is he ornery, or what?" "He's wonderful," Bethany said, and she meant it with all her heart. When Ryan met her gaze, there was a silent message in his eyes. "You'll never find a better friend. I was sort of upset with him last night, but I'm glad he was here to talk to you."

"He loves you. Do you realize how much?"

Ryan's eyes darkened. "He'd lay his life down for me. Never a doubt." "Just you remember that," she said softly. "If the time ever comes that he needs you to stand up for him, Ryan, just you remember that." A bewildered expression crossed his face. "I guess I will. He's like a second father to me." He searched her gaze. "Why do you say that?" Bethany smiled and shrugged. "No particular reason." "There is a reason. I know you. Is Sly in some kind of trouble?"

Bethany wanted so badly to betray Sly's confidence then. She believed with all her heart that Ryan would understand the old foreman's feelings for Helen, just as she did, and that he'd fight the whole family on Sly's behalf if need be. But it wasn't her place to open that can of worms.

"Just remember this moment. If ever you doubt him-if ever his honor is called into question- remember this moment and shove your doubts aside. Stand up for him. That's all I'm saying. He's earned that, hasn't he?"

Ryan gazed at the spot where Sly had last stood. "Damn straight. A thousand times over."