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Date Posted: 22:32:10 12/29/02 Sun
Author: Sue
Subject: Re: Studs, Texas -book two- Garnett Family Ranch, Late Saturday Night.
In reply to: dqfan 's message, "Re: Studs, Texas - Book Two - Meanwhile, back at the hospital..." on 18:23:43 12/29/02 Sun

A/N This segment falls into our PG-13 rating. Just a warning. :)

Setting: Saturday night, Garnett Family Ranch


A confused expression marked Josh’s features as he placed the receiver back upon the cradle.
His eyes squinted towards the lighted dial of the digital clock sitting upon the night stand.
“Why would Shane be calling at this hour if it wasn’t important?” He questioned himself.
Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t put his finger upon it. The other man sounded dazed, no
surprised to find him alone at the ranch house as if he had forgotten he was living there with
Sam. Perhaps that shouldn’t have alarmed him, since Shane had taken no great interest in
Josh’s affairs since his return to town. In truth, he found his once close confidant distant, almost
uncaring. A small stab of pain cut through him at this notion as his thoughts traveled back to
one of their last disastrous encounters at the Prickly Pear, the morning following Angel’s death.
It bothered him more now as he recollected Shane’s voice only moments before. It held the
same detachment as their previous disagreement. “What was going on?” He wondered, “And
why would Shane be turning to Sam now?” Their estrangement was no secret, and though he
hoped for a reconciliation between the two, the hour drawing nigh did not seem the most
likeliest for such a turn of events. And then there was the small detail of Shane stating “He was
safe at home.” That nagged at him since Josh felt it was far from the truth. The years he had
spent in law enforcement told him differently. Though the connection his cousin used was most
likely a cell from the fuzziness dotting their conversation, it didn’t completely block out all of
the background noises which only added to Josh’s discomfort as his mind went over all the
factors he heard. It was only the soft rustle that sounded behind him that drew his attentions
back toward the present.

Turning toward the sound, he allowed his eyes to adjust once again to the darkened shadows of
his room until they focused upon Hope. She lay asleep; her head resting upon one of the
pillows, her blonde hair in a tumble around it; some acting to cover part of her face and bare
shoulder. The bed sheet was drawn up to conceal the remainder of her body which lay beneath
it. Though still troubled by Shane’s impromptu call, his memory couldn’t help but be drawn
back to the hours that preceded it. The images of his and Hope’s lovemaking, were both
passionate and sweet; at first proving to be impetuous as a result of their new claimed love, but
then later turning both unhurried and sensual as the two took joy in discovering each other once
again. Staring down upon her now, his eyes beheld the top curve of her breast just above the
light, even cotton of the bed sheet, stirring memories within him of the feel and warmth of its
soft smoothness beneath his lips; He remembered her eyes, how they held steady with his as
their bodies moved in unison, and her lips and mouth, their softness and warmth as they met
then yielded to his. He could lose himself within her which was something he knew he’d never
tire of. An ache began to build inside him again as he relived these sensations, and he chided
himself for being as eager as an adolescent, but his heart, no his soul knew better. He could
never get enough of this woman before him. A long felt contentment radiated within him as he
continued to look down upon her and the desire to gather her up against him once again grew
anew. It was not only the loving he admitted to himself with a self derisive smirk, but the
satisfaction of the intimacy that followed it. There had been others before her. He was no saint;
a few he claimed to love, but never had the closeness that followed felt so right. A smile grew
upon his face as he carefully lowered his weight back upon the rumpled sheets of the bed to sit
beside her, allowing himself to bow forward even lower until his lips made gentle contact with
her hair and cheek. “I love you.” He whispered before righting himself slowly once again , the
marginal action bringing unexpected discomfort with it and he felt the previous throb of a
headache threatening to return with an increased vengeance.

Glaring back at the clock upon the nightstand, he realized that enough time had passed since his
last dosage of pain medication, and carefully he rose once again to his feet making sure the
ground beneath them remained steady. Out of instinct he reached for his jeans now folded and
placed carefully upon the back of the chair beside his bed. Hope’s doing he mused as he sank
back down quietly upon the sheets once again to put them on, not trusting his balance just yet. He
didn’t bother with his discarded shirt she had placed just as tidily beside it nor shoes as he made
his way out into the hallway and then into the adjoining bathroom in search of the medicine
chest. He switched on the bathroom light, but with the ill effect of the glare it provided, he
switched it just as quickly back off, doing his best with the scarce illumination that the nightlight
beside the sink afforded as he began to fumble through the cabinet before him. He
unfortunately knocked something over with his efforts down toward the counter below. A
muffled clatter rang out, but he did his best to check any further calamity. Replacing what
proved to be a bottle of aftershave, he located another bottle containing pain reliever, and
popped the top before spilling two...no three into his hand for good measure. Placing the
container back upon the shelf, he reached for the glass Sam kept nearby the sink and filled it
with cool water from the faucet while he downed the pills. The water proved refreshing enough
to prompt him to have a second glass before placing it back upon the counter top as he reached
up to close the door to the cabinet in front of him. Its mirror reflected his image back toward
him taking him by surprise. Hair tousled, and pale features somewhat drawn were what met him,
but it was the stark white bandage clearly visible even in the dark that held his interest. He
hadn’t realized how much of his forehead it covered before this, and reaching his hand up
toward it he gave a tentative touch before he was rewarded by a slight hitch of discomfort from
the reflection staring back at him. “Got yourself good this time, Waleski, you surely did.” He
answered before reaching toward the light switch once again to flick it back on. The glare it
radiated about the small room still caused him discomfort, but it allowed him to finally
realize the extent of the damage he had suffered that day. The sudden illumination attesting to
the fact that the ugly bruise that accompanied the six stitches was spreading further to
encompass his eye socket beneath it. “Hell...” He swore lightly as his fingers gently traced the
injury. “...they’re never going to believe this.” He finished while contemplating the future
inquiries he knew would result. “Well at least I have Miss Lena to back me up...” He
countered, chuckling quietly while allowing his hands to drop back down to his side, the slight
movement causing an involuntary crinkle of noise to accompany it as his hand made contact
with the right front pocket of his jeans.

Almost as reflexive as his previous movement before, curiosity compelled him to reach toward
his pocket, fishing out the article that caused such sound, then unfolded it for a better look. If
only moments before his appearance surprised him, what met him now achieved the same result,
but tenfold; his heart rate increasing while his eyes scanned the words in front of him. “Oh,
God . . . ” was his unconscious reaction toward it. His hands shaking slightly from the pressure the
revelation brought to him exerting such force upon the culprit as to further wrinkle the paper within their grasp.
The title stared back at him. “Studs Youth Athletic Association Criminal Background Check”.

“How could he have forgotten this?” He railed against himself when only receiving it short
hours before. His earlier trepidation returned nullifying any recollection of the feelings he had
before this moment. “How could I...?” He began while involuntarily allowing the paper to drop
from his grasp watching with a surreal detachment as it glided down towards the counter below
him, and his hands moved back quickly up toward his face in quiet desperation.

“Josh?” A voice sounded behind him breaking into the discomfort of this moment. “Josh?” It
called out again as it neared. His eyes moved up once again toward the mirror in front of him as
he watched Hope enter into the small room, her own eyes etched with concern. “Josh, are you
okay?” She asked, mistaking the troubled reflection staring back at her for pain or perhaps some
more serious repercussion from his earlier injury. She drew what he now recognized as his old, blue
bathrobe more tightly about her, her fingers trembling slightly with the action, and she closed the
remaining distance between them. “What is it?” She asked unable to conceal the apprehension
in her voice and upon her face. “Are you sick?”

“No.” His voice replied roughly, almost hesitantly before continuing on with. “My headache
returned . . . I was just getting some pain reliever.”


His answer did little to relieve the anxiety that marked her features. “I’m okay, Hope . . . really I
am.” He went on with more resolution, trying to convince her of the fact...trying to convince
himself. Oh, God, how he wished that what he was saying now were true!

She remained glued to the spot where she stood, her eyes taking stock of his reflection with some
delay before finally accepting his words at face value and going on. “I was worried when I
woke up and found you missing.” Another type of uneasiness now filled her eyes, and it pained
him to witness it spurring him to turn quicky toward her, and gather her closely against him.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to worry you.” He replied roughly, his voice catching slightly as he
buried his face into the softness of her hair while feeling the roughness of the terrycloth of his
robe upon her as it made contact with his bare chest.

“It’s okay...” She began, her cheek brushing against the warmth of his chest as her words
echoed quietly off his flesh. “I was afraid you might be sick...” and then with some self derision
she chided herself as she continued. “...I haven’t been much of a nurse.”

Putting her back slightly to afford himself a look into her eyes, he replied. “It’s not a nurse I
need . . . just you.” he answered before drawing her back into the comfort of his arms until their
bodies made contact once again. “You’ve made me so happy.” He choked. “I love you so
much, Hope.”

“I love you too, Josh.” She replied, her voice filling with emotion as her eyes stared up toward
his, their grayness meeting with his blue to confirm the words just spoken, and she found his
face with her hands, cradling it, stroking and caressing before drawing him down toward her.
His final prayer before realizing the feather softness of her touch was that she would still feel the same once she
knew ...once he told her the truth.

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