Lucky Lifeguard (River's End Ranch Book 28) Page 3

  Again, she knew that’s how they were raised and so that’s all they knew, but that didn’t make it right.

  And now she’d been injured on top of it.

  She grabbed her tablet out of her bag and brought up one of her textbooks, then read it while she exercised her knee. She would fix both of her problems, and she would be just fine. And she would do it on her own without anyone being the wiser.

  If they were the wiser, she wouldn’t get the support she needed anyway.

  Chapter Five

  Joey arrived at the pool at five minutes to six the next morning. Chelsea was already there, wrapped in a white terry robe and looking annoyed.

  “Good morning,” he said as he unlocked the gate to the pool. “How did you sleep?”

  “I’d like to get to work, if you don’t mind,” she said, pushing through the gate as soon as it was open.

  Joey took a second to hang one of the “Private Party” signs on the gate, then closed it up and joined Chelsea poolside. She had already begun her stretches and ignored him completely when he walked up to her.

  “I’ll just be up there, on my tower, if you need anything,” he said.

  No reply.

  “Yup, just me and my tower, way up there, keeping an eye on things. Because that’s what I do.”

  She turned to the other side.

  “Me and my water bottle and my whistle. We’ll just head on up now.”

  She looked over at him. “Was there something you wanted?”

  He shrugged. “After we talked last night, I thought we’d moved past icy coldness and could at least say hello to each other.”

  She straightened and met his gaze. “I’m here to work. I’m not here to chitchat or dillydally or shoot the breeze or anything else.”

  “That’s right. I’d almost forgotten. Eye of the tiger.”

  “Yes. And don’t forget it again.”

  He shook his head as he climbed the ladder and took a seat on the tower. The eye of the tiger. Chelsea’s favorite training song, and the phrase she used to indicate being in the zone. Nothing—and she meant nothing—was allowed to interrupt her when she was in the zone.

  He almost snorted when he thought back on it. What had he seen in her, anyway? She was demanding and harsh, she never stopped pushing, her standards were impossible to meet, and she rarely let herself have any fun.

  But then again . . . He watched as she sprang into the water and began her first lap. Now that he was letting himself reminisce, he remembered all the good stuff too. Her sense of humor. Her unswerving integrity. The way she’d shown up with a pot of soup when he caught a cold, but it was rewarmed canned soup because she didn’t know how to cook. And of course she was beautiful, and they shared a common love of the water. She had been something else, something wild and rare and temperamental, and he’d liked to think that he knew her better than anyone else did. That had proven entirely false when she’d left to take the scholarship, but at the time, it had been a wonderful thing to believe.

  She swam consistently for twenty minutes, climbed out and stretched, then got back in. She kept this up for an hour, but Joey didn’t think that knee was getting any less stiff, no matter how much she stretched. There was just something off in her forward movement, something that said she was dealing with pain or with lack of flexibility, or both.

  She took a break around seven, which allowed Joey the chance to run into the restroom for a minute, and then she started up again. Two full hours was a good workout for a patient in rehab, and when she said she was done at eight, he nodded.

  “Good job. See you tomorrow morning?”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “I’m in training. I’ll be back at two this afternoon. I’m sure you were told all this.”

  “You’re in rehab, and you need to be easing back into it slowly.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Who said I was in rehab?”

  “Maybe the fact that you just had knee surgery.” He put his hands on his own hips, mimicking her stance. He ignored the fact that two of the Kates had arrived and were getting set up for the day. He didn’t mind losing his cool in front of them.

  “Yes, I just had knee surgery, but I healed up remarkably well, and I’m back in training. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some appointments at the spa.” She stomped off, leaving him there annoyed and angry.

  There was only one thing he could do.

  He pulled off his whistle, tossed it onto the deck, and dove into the water. Several thousand laps should be enough to burn it off. Or at least, they’d be a start.

  ***

  “Now, I’ve looked up both the chiropractor and the massage therapist online, and they’re highly skilled,” Chelsea’s mother said as she bustled around the cabin, shoving odds and ends into her purse. Chelsea had no idea why her mom would want to take nail polish on her horseback ride, but oh, well.

  “And we had your regular doctors email over your files, so the people here know everything about you,” her father added.

  “They sent them straight over? You didn’t have to do anything?” Chelsea asked, keeping her voice light. If the files went from office to office, her parents wouldn’t have had the chance to find out anything, right?

  “We barely had to lift a finger. One call was all it took. Of course, I had to pretend to be you—those privacy laws.” Her mother laughed. “But what’s a little impersonation among family members?”

  Chelsea forced a smile. Was her mother in the habit of pretending to be her? This wasn’t good. “I could have called myself, Mom. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “But you were napping and I didn’t want to disturb you.” She paused in the doorway. “Are you ready to go? I hope this doesn’t take longer than an hour—we’re meeting up with Wyatt Weston, one of the owners of the ranch. He’s guiding our horseback ride personally. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  Of course it was wonderful. Personal attention from the owner was something to brag about. Chelsea sighed, pulled herself up, and left the cabin with her parents, wondering what sorts of new torture techniques they’d inflict on her and hoping they would help.

  When they walked into the spa, they were greeted by a friendly receptionist, and then shown back into an exam room. Chelsea caught the receptionist’s elbow before she walked off and said in a low tone, “Could you please let the doctor know that I don’t want to discuss the specifics of my case with my parents in the room?”

  “Of course,” the receptionist said, giving her a bright smile. The request must have seemed unusual, but she acted as though it was the most common thing in the world, and Chelsea appreciated that.

  A moment later, a tall, slender woman with light brown hair entered the room and introduced herself as Dr. Michelle, speaking with a soft Southern drawl. She carried a file with her, a somewhat thick file, that she set on the desk while she shook hands all around. She looked to be around thirty-five, which seemed young to Chelsea, but as long as she was qualified, it didn’t really matter.

  “Thank you for having all your records sent over,” she said as she took a seat on the stool in front of the desk. “It helps me become familiar with your case and to see what tests have already been run. And then I can start doing my own thing.”

  “Your own . . . thing?” Chelsea’s mother asked.

  “That’s right. And one of those things is to consult with the patient privately, so I’m going to ask Mom and Dad to step out.”

  “To step out?” Her mom was starting to sound like a parrot.

  “Yes, please.” Dr. Michelle smiled politely until she and Chelsea were alone, then she turned to Chelsea with a discerning eye. “So, tell me what’s going on.”

  Chelsea pulled in a deep breath. “Patient confidentiality, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay. Well, my doctor back home thinks that I’m not going to get full mobility back in my knee. I’ve been telling everyone that I’ll make a complete recovery, but we don’t know that yet. I’ve essentially been lying.” That hurt to admit. She never thought she’d do something so dishonest.

  “And why did you feel the need to lie about it?” Dr. Michelle asked.

  “My relationship with my parents is a little awkward. If they thought I’d have to stop swimming . . . it would be even more awkward.”

  “I see. Or at least, I see enough. All right, I won’t bring that up in front of them. And in fact, I won’t know if I agree until I have a chance to examine you for myself. I tell you what, Miss Chelsea.” She looked Chelsea square in the eye. “While you’re here on the ranch, we’re going to move forward as if all things are possible. No more of this gloomy talk—possibilities only.”

  Chelsea smiled. “I like that.”

  “Good, because that’s what we’re doing. Now, tell me about your body—where are your aches and pains, all that sort of stuff.”

  By the time Chelsea stepped out of Dr. Michelle’s office, she felt a lot better about things. It helped to focus solely on the positive—she spent enough time battling the what-ifs and the uncertainty.

  Her massage with Maddie was wonderful, and she left the spa feeling like a limp noodle. “Go back to your cabin and take a nap,” Maddie told her as she walked her to the front door of the building. “Drink a ton of water, too. Just don’t drink in your sleep.”

  Chelsea laughed. “Okay, I won’t.”

  She crossed the parking lot to her cabin, grabbed a bottled water, and curled up on her bed. She wanted to read a chapter in her history book, but she was so tired, and a nap really did sound great. Just a little one. Then she’d study.

  Chapter Six

  Joey paced on the pool deck, growing more annoyed by the minute. Chelsea had all but commanded him to be here at two, and here it was, a quarter after
and she was nowhere in sight. Ordinarily, things like that didn’t bother him—everyone ran late once in a while. But when she’d acted like punctuality was the most important virtue a person could have and then she didn’t even bother to show up, well, that was just . . . annoying.

  Caitlyn was on duty that afternoon, and he walked over to the base of her tower. “My private client hasn’t shown up yet. When she gets here, could you give me a call? I’ll be around. Doing something. Kicking something, probably.”

  She laughed. “Sure thing.”

  Joey left the pool and walked across the parking lot. Maybe he’d go visit the small animal barn and hold a bunny. That would be a nice, calming, non-psychotic thing to do.

  He’d just made up his mind to go do that when he saw Chelsea trotting toward him, waving one arm. Her oversized beach bag was draped over her other arm, and it hit her leg with every step she took.

  “I’m sorry I’m late! Please stop!”

  He stopped.

  “I fell asleep. I’m really sorry. Can we please go swim now?”

  “Caitlyn’s on duty. She could keep an eye on you.”

  Chelsea glanced over her shoulder toward the pool and then back again. “But isn’t she watching everyone right now? And aren’t you supposed to be assigned just to me?”

  “That was the arrangement, but I also thought you were going to be here at two. It’s now twenty after. I’m not going to sit around and wait for you to show up—I do have other things to do, you know.” He wasn’t in the mood to play pretty princess with her. Yes, she had money—he had his dignity.

  She reached out and touched his arm. “I do know, and I’m sorry. Please come back, Joey. It won’t happen again.”

  He looked at her hand on his arm, then up into her eyes. Dang it—those eyes. He shook his head. “Listen. I’m not going down that road again. I’ll come back because I need the money, but not because you batted your eyelashes at me.”

  “Of course not. And I don’t know what road you mean.” She took a step back, but he caught her hand before she could escape.

  “You know full well what road—the one where you snap your fingers and I come running. I’m not that person anymore.”

  “And I’m not either.” She tugged her hand from his. “Let’s get to work, all right?”

  “All right.” He followed her back to the pool and took his position on the second tower while she stretched. Then he watched her go back and forth, back and forth, thinking it was probably a good thing that he didn’t get motion sick.

  The warmth of the afternoon sun lulled him into a kind of trance, as did watching Chelsea’s rhythmic swimming. As soon as he heard the loud voices coming from across the pool, though, he snapped to attention, his gaze darting around to locate the source of the noise.

  Two men stood on the opposite side of the pool deck, yelling at each other, bottles of beer in their hands. Caitlyn was trying to talk to them from on top of her tower, but they weren’t listening, and she gave Joey a frantic look. He could see the problem immediately—she couldn’t leave her tower as long as there were swimmers in the pool, and the men were becoming more and more angry. Joey grabbed his whistle, blew into it, and climbed down his tower.

  Chelsea’s head crested the water as she came up for more air, and he gave another quick toot. She stopped swimming, and he bent over at the side of the pool. “I need you to sit tight a sec,” he said, trusting that she’d listen to him. Then he crossed the concrete pad and approached the two men.

  “Excuse me,” he said, raising his voice loudly enough to be heard over their brawling. “Mind telling me what’s going on? You should know for starters that bringing beer here is against the rules.”

  They turned and looked at him. “Oh, Mr. Baywatch here doesn’t like it that we brought beer to his little kiddie pool,” one of them sneered.

  Joey glanced up at Caitlyn. She flashed him her cell phone, signaling that she was texting for backup. He gave her a nod, then turned back to the men. “That’s right. I’ll need you to hand me those bottles and then to excuse yourselves from the pool area.”

  “And if we don’t?” The other man folded his arms across his chest, probably trying to make himself look bigger or more intimidating or something. It just reminded Joey of a bad television show, and he wasn’t impressed.

  “Can we please step over to the side and discuss this? We have some children in the pool right now, and I don’t want them upset.” Maybe diplomacy would work, an appeal to their kind hearts . . . if they had kind hearts . . . he was starting to wonder.

  “I’m fine right where I am,” the first man said.

  Joey shrugged. “Suit yourself. Just thought I’d save you a little embarrassment, that’s all.”

  “Embarrassment? How do you figure that?” He took a step forward and put his face right in Joey’s. “The only person I see who’s gonna be embarrassed is you after we get done with you.”

  Joey looked back and forth between the two of them. “Now, see? You’re united against a common enemy, and the squabble between yourselves seems to have melted away. Go ahead. Shake hands. Be friends again. Consider this a day of rejoicing in your newfound relationship.”

  The men looked a little taken aback. “Listen, whistle boy, I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you’re getting on my last nerve.” The first man shoved his bottle into the other man’s hands and took another step. He was now so close, Joey could see all the little flecks of gold color in his eyes.

  “All I’ve asked is that you hand over your beer and leave the pool area. I don’t understand what’s so hard about that,” Joey said.

  “And I don’t understand why you have such a problem with our being here.” The man reached out and shoved Joey’s shoulders, making him stumble backwards.

  Joey regained his footing easily enough, but shook his head. “I really wish you hadn’t done that.”

  “Oh? Why’s that? You want to run crying home to Mommy?”

  “No. It’s just that according to the employment contract I signed with River’s End Ranch, I’m to treat every guest with the utmost courtesy and respect. Unless, of course, there’s an unusual situation that puts me in some kind of danger, and then I’m allowed to defend myself.”

  The first man looked over at the second. “He thinks he can defend himself,” he said, laughing.

  “Actually, what I’m going to do is remove you from the pool area, which is pretty much what I’ve been asking this whole time.” Joey took a step forward, grabbed the man’s arm, used his other hand to pinch a nerve in his shoulder, and walked him out the gate. He saw Charley and Tony, two of the ranch’s security guards, running toward them, and he grinned. “Great timing,” he called out.

  Within a matter of seconds, both men were in custody, and Joey turned back to the pool. “Sorry, everyone,” he said, noticing how all their guests had stopped swimming and were either hanging on to the sides or had gotten out altogether. “You can go back to having fun now. Just remember—you may not bring alcoholic beverages here, and if you’re going to argue with a lifeguard, make sure you’re stronger than they are.”

  Everyone laughed, which was what he’d been shooting for, and he looked up at Caitlyn. “Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s great.”

  “All right, then. Let’s shake this up a little bit.” He walked over to the little booth that housed the refreshment stand, reached inside, and flipped the sound system onto some fun beach music. Then he made a big show of dancing all the way back over to his tower, making some of the children giggle.

  Chelsea sat on the side of the pool, waiting for him.

  “Sorry for the little interruption,” he said. “Thanks for waiting for me.”

  “Well, I didn’t want to miss a second of that little show,” she said, nodding across the pool. “Do you have to throw people out of here often?”