Chapter Twenty-Two
Jovie
I’m standing in the middle of the academy gym when Charli walks through the door with her dad in tow.
Poor Albert looks like a man heading toward a firing squad.
He’s wearing the exact same clothes he’d wear out on the ranch, except he’s got on black-and-gray sneakers instead of boots.
I have to bite back a laugh.
His weathered cowboy hat is pulled low over his brow, and he eyes the treadmills lined against the wall like they’re dangerous predators waiting to pounce.
“Now hold on,” he says before either of us can speak. “I’m only here because Evelyn and Imma Jean wouldn’t stop nagging me. So, I agreed to come hear what you two had to say. That’s it.”
Charli folds her arms. “Daddy, you’re pushing sixty.”
“I’m fifty-seven.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Fifty-seven. With a heart condition, so practically seventy. You need to exercise more.”
Albert cuts his eyes to her. “I work every day. The ranch is my gym.”
Charli laughs. “You and Grandpa Earl ride around on the ATVs, barking orders, while everyone else actually does the work. The only thing getting a workout is your vocal cords.”
Albert scoffs. “That’s management.”
“That’s bullshit.”
Albert mutters something under his breath, and I have to turn away to hide my smile.
Charli steps closer. “Besides, Grandma promised she’d switch from turkey sausage back to the real stuff if you let Jovie show you a few simple exercises.”
His head snaps up. “The real sausage?”
“That’s what she said.”
His eyes narrow suspiciously. “And real bacon?”
“I think that could be negotiated.”
He sighs heavily. “Fine.”
Charli smiles triumphantly.
He points at me. “I’m not committing to anything. But I’ll hear you out.”
“Deal.”
He studies me for a moment. “I’m an old cowboy. And like dogs, we’re hard to teach new tricks.”
I smile. “Albert, the goal isn’t to turn you into a professional athlete. The goal is to keep you healthy enough to continue doing the things you love with the people you love for as long as possible.”
His expression softens slightly. “That’d be nice.”
I lead him toward the treadmills. “A workout doesn’t have to be intense to be effective. The key is consistency.”
I start the treadmill at an easy walking pace. “Try it.”
Albert steps onto the moving belt.
“How does it feel, Daddy?” Charli asks.
“Feels lazy.”
“Good,” I say. “It’s just a warm-up.”
He looks skeptical.
I reach over and bump the speed up a fraction and add a slight incline. “How’s that?”
“Not as lazy.”
I nod.
“You should be getting anywhere from six to ten thousand steps in a day. You don’t have to run, but you want to get your heart rate up a little. Improve circulation. Build strength in your legs. Maintain mobility.”
“Sounds like a lot.”
“It really isn’t.”
For the next several minutes, he walks while Charli and I stand nearby.
At first, he grumbles. Then he starts talking. Then he’s telling ranch stories from twenty years ago.
By the time fifteen minutes pass, he seems genuinely surprised when I stop the machine.
“That’s it?”
“That’s all the walking for now. Let’s try something else.”
We move to the stationary bike.
Albert lowers himself onto the seat. “I haven’t ridden a bike since Jimmy Carter was president.”
Charli laughs. “Told you. Old as dirt.”
The bike session goes much the same. Easy pace. Steady breathing. No strain. No pressure. Just lower body movement.
By the time we finish, Albert’s cheeks are slightly pink. “I’ll be damned.”
“Feeling okay?”
“Actually feel pretty good. But I’d prefer riding a real bike outside.”
“We can make that happen,” Charli says.
Next come resistance bands.
I demonstrate a few basic pulling exercises, followed by some presses. Nothing too complicated or risky.
Albert follows along surprisingly well.
Ranch work has left him stronger than his family realizes.
Charli watches proudly as her father works through each exercise.
We finish with a few sets of chair squats and wall push-ups.
The entire session takes less than forty-five minutes.
When we’re finished, Albert wipes his forehead with a towel.
“Well?”
His eyes cut to Charli. “That wasn’t so bad.”
Charli gasps dramatically.
Albert rolls his eyes.
“Do you think you could do it every morning?” she asks.
He gives her a look.
“How about five days a week?” she asks.
“No.”
“Four?”
Albert thinks about it.
“Three,” he says. “To start.”
Charli extends her hand. “Deal.”
He shakes it reluctantly. “Monday, Wednesday, Friday. And we’ll see how it goes.”
I smile.
We spend the next few minutes cleaning up equipment and putting things away.
That’s when the gym door opens, and Axle walks inside.
He’s wearing gym shorts, a gray T-shirt stretched across broad shoulders, and a backward baseball cap.
Damn.
He looks as good dressed for a workout as he does for a rodeo.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Albert says.
Axle stops. “Uncle Albert? What the hell are you doing here?”
Albert gestures around the gym. “They got me exercising.”
Axle’s eyebrows shoot up. “No kidding?”
“I’ll try anything if it keeps me from having to eat chicken feed.”
I laugh.
Charli snorts.
“That bad, huh?” Axle asks.
“Have you ever had turkey bacon, son?”
“Fuck no.”
“Then you understand my motivation.”
The two men continue talking while I automatically look Axle over.
A professional assessment, of course.
“How are your ribs feeling?” I ask.
His gaze shifts toward me, and a smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. “They’re good.”
I narrow my eyes. “Let me see.”
His eyebrows rise.
A beat passes.
Then his smile turns wicked. “You trying to get me naked again, Doc?”
Heat rushes into my face.
Beside me, Charli goes completely still as she watches us.
“Shirt up,” I say firmly.
Axle chuckles. “Bossy.”
“Now, Axle.”
He grabs the hem and tugs the shirt off, then walks the few paces between us until he’s towering over me. He hands the shirt to me. “All yours.”
My brain chooses that exact moment to stop functioning.
Professional.
Professional.
Professional.
“Raise your right arm.”
He does as I asked, and I bend closer to focus on the injury. The bruising has faded considerably, but there’s still some swelling and tenderness.
“Any pain when you breathe?”
“No.”
“Cough?”
“No.”
“Sleeping?”
He raises a brow.
Right. I already know the answer to that one.
I step back and hand his shirt back to him. “Okay.”
“Good to go?” he asks.
“You’re healing, but …”
His smile fades. “There it is,” he mutters under his breath.
I point at him. “No chest presses. No push-ups. No rowing. And no crunches or planks.”
Axle groans.
“And no heavy overhead lifting either.”
Albert laughs. “Boy, you’re lucky.”
Axle looks over at him. “Lucky?”
“All they did was tell you what not to do.”
Charli and I both laugh.
Axle shakes his head. “I’ll be careful. I’m just gonna walk on the treadmill and do some leg presses. Then the sauna.”
That doesn’t sound too bad.
“Fine.”
His grin returns. “Then maybe strip and jump in the river.”
I nearly choke.
Charli’s eyes swing toward me.
Wonderful.
Axle looks entirely too pleased with himself as he turns and heads toward the treadmill.
“Maybe don’t do that. I still don’t trust that old rope swing,” I call after him.
Albert claps his hands together. “We all done?”
“Yeah,” I say. “All done.”
“Good. How about I escort you girls to dinner?”
“Sounds good.”
A few minutes later, we gather our things and start toward the door.
Axle is walking on the treadmill.
Albert pauses. “See you later, son.”
“Bye, Uncle Albert.”
Charli and I follow, and Axle nods to us.
“Ladies.”
Albert stops at the bathroom. “I’ll meet you girls outside.”
As we head toward the exit, Charli slows. She glances back toward her cousin, then back at me and purses her lips.
“What?”
“He’s a handful.”
I laugh. “You got that right. He’s a horrible patient.”
“All cowboys are difficult,” she says.
“Oh, I know. I’ve had a lot of experience dealing with them in my life. Dad, my brother, and Cabe,” I say.
Charli smiles knowingly. “I’m not a doctor. But I did have to work with one stubborn cowboy while he was healing.”
Her gaze flicks briefly toward Axle.
Then back to me.
“Just be careful, or you’ll fall in love, like I did.”
I swallow, and for a moment, I can’t find words.
“Trust me, there’s zero chance of me falling for any of my patients.”
“Yeah, well, I thought the exact same thing, and tomorrow, I’m going wedding dress shopping with my sisters.”
Across the gym, Axle throws his head back, laughing at something Albert said as he came out of the bathroom.
I force my gaze back to Charli. “I’ll be careful.”
Her smile says she doesn’t believe me.
“Good. I love my cousin.” She shifts her gaze to me. “All my cousins.” She emphasizes the word all. “But he’s a rascal. You have to show him who’s boss.”
I laugh. “Noted.”
“Shall we?” Albert asks as he makes it to us. “I hear they’re serving pot roast and pecan pie tonight. And I’ve worked up an appetite.”
He offers an elbow to each of us, and we link our arms in his and let him lead us to the dining hall.