Tucker

by Dale Mayer

  “What about Bernie?” she asked. “What would they have done with her?”

  “I presume they weren’t armed,” Rodney said. “Otherwise there was no point in keeping you alive.”

  “Meaning?” Addie asked.

  “Well, they could have shot Tucker and the dog.”

  “Hadn’t thought of that,” Tucker said. “So we’ll assume they didn’t have a gun, or they didn’t dare take a chance of anybody hearing the shot,” he said.

  “Where was the dog when all this was happening? What would she have done?” Addie murmured.

  “I opened the truck door. She jumped down. After that, I don’t know what happened. She doesn’t know me that well, and she is a little confused still with her transition to civilian life.”

  “I’d assume she’d have run away far enough to get out of the guy’s reach, just in case he was trying to grab her too,” Addie murmured out loud.

  “Well, I sure as hell wouldn’t want anybody grabbing me,” Tucker said. “I’m not sure about what she would have done though.”

  “I think she stayed at a distance, and, when they dropped you, she stayed around to make sure that you were okay. Once the guy left, she came in close to keep you company, until you woke up,” she murmured. “That’s typical dog behavior.”

  “I’m not sure that’s even what happened,” he said. “We’re just doing best guesses at the moment.”

  “It’s all we have,” she said. “How we’ll find out beyond that, I don’t know.” She looked at Rodney. “Lead the way back to the truck,” she said.

  He nodded, fell into step just ahead of them, and she urged Tucker to move forward behind Rodney. “I’m coming,” he said. “The head’s just pounding pretty good.”

  “Let’s get you back to the truck,” she said, “and I’ll drive you to the hospital, so we can get that head wound stitched up.”

  “I’m okay without the stitches.”

  “No, you’re not,” she said, arguing fiercely. “I get that you’re a big tough guy, but I’m also the nurse. That wound needs to be closed.”

  Tucker groaned. “That just means questions and all kinds of BS that I don’t have time for.”

  “You’ll make time,” she said. “So we either do it the easy way or the hard way.”

  He looked down at her in amusement. “And you’ll stop me, one way or the other?”

  “Hell yes,” she said, “and, if that doesn’t work, I’ll enlist your sister.”

  Immediately Rodney burst out laughing. “I like her,” he said.

  Tucker groaned. “She certainly knows how to wield a weapon.”

  “You know perfectly well your sister won’t let you get away with not getting this checked out,” she said, “so it’s a good weapon to pick.”

  “I know,” he said. “Fine, we’ll go to the hospital, but only if it’ll be fast. I have absolutely no intention of sitting there for three hours before they even take a look at me.”

  “If it’s that bad,” she said, “I can get the materials and stitch it up myself.”

  “Well then, let’s just do that.”

  “No,” she said. “Hospital first.”

  He sighed. “They’ll just take x-rays, tell me that I got a concussion, and send me home for the next few days.”

  “Is there anything wrong with that?” she asked.

  “I already know it, so why go?”

  “Stop being a child,” she scolded.

  He didn’t know how to get her to stop talking, but she was making his headache worse. “Don’t yell. You’re making my head pound,” he said. “I already have a bad enough headache.”

  She groaned. “Fine, as long as you agree to go to the hospital.”

  “I said I would,” he said.

  “I just don’t want an argument when we get you to the truck.”

  Up ahead he saw the parking lot. “Looks like the truck’s right there.” He turned to Rodney and said, “You could drive.”

  “Oh no,” he said. “I know what you’ll do. You’ll try to convince me to not take you to the hospital. I saw the cut myself. I think it needs stitches.”

  Tucker sighed. “You’re both against me,” he snapped.

  “If looking after you means being against you, then we’re both against you,” she said immediately. “And, once again, you’re acting like a two-year-old.”

  Rodney burst out laughing again. “She’s definitely got your number.”

  “That’s not fair,” Tucker said. By the time he made it to the truck, he could feel the sweat pouring off him. He knew he’d been a little more injured than he’d expected and hoped. He’d always had an ability to bounce back, but, since his accident, that ability seemed to have been taken from him. Whenever he caught a cold or there was a flu around, he succumbed way too easily. He figured that this would be the same deal. He walked around to the side of the truck and then stopped because she was slipped under his arm and now leaning against the driver’s door.

  “What are you doing?” he asked in confusion.

  “You’re not driving,” she said. “I will.”

  He looked at her, then at Rodney, who just nodded.

  Tucker sighed louder this time. “Fine,” he said. “We need to get the dog in though.”

  “She’ll come up without a problem,” she said calmly. She looked at Bernie. “Won’t you, girl?”

  Bernie barked at her in delight. Addie opened up the back seat and helped the dog into the back.

  “She won’t stay back there,” he said.

  “That’s fine. I just need to get you around to your side,” she said, eyeing him steadily. Trying to make it look like it was easier than it was, he made his way around to the passenger side and slowly crawled in. Immediately the smell of food wafted toward him. He looked at the bags beside him. “What’s this?”

  “Our dinner,” she said with a wry look. “You never came back to the restaurant, so I came out. I had them pack it up to-go, before I came looking for you. I found your phone at the corner of the parking lot, which is when I phoned Badger.” He stared at her. She shrugged. “He contacted Rodney, and Rodney was already on his way from the site, so he stopped and helped me to find you.”

  “Wow,” he said. “Well, I guess it all ends well and much better than it could have.”

  “Absolutely. For all I know, us calling for you sent this guy running away,” she said. “Maybe he would have stayed and taken care of you forever,” she murmured. “I don’t know what’s going on. But let’s get you to the hospital and get one thing taken care of.” She looked at Rodney and asked, “Are you coming to the hospital?”

  He shook his head. “Keep in touch though,” he said. “I’ve got to go home to my soon-to-be wife.” And, with that, he lifted a hand and headed to his truck.

  “I’ll update Badger,” Addie said.

  Tucker didn’t argue.

  Chapter 8

  Addie pulled out of the restaurant parking lot, wondering at the strange turn of events. Instead of a nice dinner—almost a date scenario—she was now taking Tucker to the hospital. But the hospital wasn’t very far away, and she knew the area well. When she neared the emergency entrance, she parked in the temporary parking lot. She got out and helped him inside. Several of the staff recognized her, and she was lucky enough that they checked out Tucker’s head and immediately moved him into a room.

  She went back outside, checked on Bernie, parked the truck in the main parking area out of the way, and came back in again. As she entered his hospital room, the doctor stood over Tucker, studying his head wound.

  “How bad is it?” she asked. When the doctor turned, she recognized him. “Hey, Jim. How you doing?”

  “Hey, Addie. How are you?”

  “Well, I wasn’t doing too bad,” she said, “until this guy got injured.” She walked over to stand beside the patient. Tucker reached up a hand; she immediately grabbed it and held it tight. “How bad is the head?”

  “Well, the wound�
�s pretty deep,” Jim said. “We’ll get in quite a few stitches here, and he’s got a concussion. He’ll be sore for the next couple days.” He looked down at Tucker and said, “I’ll freeze this, so I can get the stitches in. You got a problem with that?”

  Tucker just gave him a hard look. “Not at all.”

  She stood at his side, while a nurse came in and cleaned the wound, and then the doctor returned to stitch it up. Jim looked Tucker over as he talked, all the while sewing. “Any other wounds?”

  “Not that we saw,” she said quietly.

  “Did you call the police?”

  “Not yet, but it’s likely related to a case that they’re already working on,” Tucker said.

  The doctor shook his head. “It’s a sad world these days,” he said, but he finished quickly and looked down at her and asked, “Will you look after him?”

  “Absolutely,” she said.

  “Well then, you know the routine,” he said. “I’ll write a prescription for some painkillers, but, other than that, get him to a doctor in a few days or so—or earlier if there are any problems.”

  “Will do,” she said with a bright smile. She watched and waited, and it took another thirty minutes before Jim returned, and she had a prescription in her hand. Thanking him again, Jim left. She looked over at Tucker, who was lying on the bed with his eyes closed. “Why don’t you stay here overnight?” she asked impulsively.

  His eyes flew open, and he stared out of these bright blue eyes, strong, determined, immediately rejecting her suggestion.

  She smiled and said, “Okay. You can’t blame me for at least trying.”

  “I don’t do well in hospitals,” he said.

  And then she thought about all the injuries he’d been through and the number of times he must have been in hospitals. She realized that emotionally this was not where he needed to be. She nodded. “Then, if you’re ready,” she said, “let’s get you home.”

  “I don’t even know where home is at the moment,” he said, “but I do have a hotel room.”

  She hesitated and then said, “I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”

  “It’s just a head injury,” he said dismissively.

  She snorted. “Just a head injury?” she asked. “I’m pretty sure just a head injury means a whole lot more than what you’re thinking.”

  “Maybe,” he said, as he slowly sat up, reaching for the bars alongside the upper half of the bed for balance.

  She stepped in front of him and asked, “How about a wheelchair?”

  He snorted at that.

  She shrugged. “Had to try.”

  “This is where I clearly see that you’re a nurse,” he said with a small grin.

  “Yep,” she said, “and looking after patients is what I do. And I’m used to difficult patients.”

  “If you can get me back to the hotel,” he said, “I promise I’ll be fine in the morning.”

  She frowned at that, but he wasn’t giving her any choice. She helped him back out to the truck, and, once they were settled inside, with Bernie sitting in the front between them again, she asked, “Are you allowed to bring a dog in the hotel?”

  He looked down, groaned, and said, “No. I thought I’d sneak her in.”

  Addie turned on the engine and headed to the main road. When they pulled up and stopped, he opened his eyes and said, “This is not my hotel.”

  “That’s because it’s my place,” she said. “Come on. I’ve got a spare room, and I don’t have a problem keeping Bernie as well.”

  He looked at her for a long moment and then shrugged and said, “Thank you. It’s decent of you to offer.”

  “I won’t leave an injured man alone with a dog that needs a whole lot more than an injured man for reassurance in a hotel,” she said. “The dog needs more than that, even if you think you don’t.”

  “I’m used to being alone,” he said quietly.

  “I get it. But maybe you need to get used to not being alone so much.”

  She opened up the truck door, hopped out, and let Bernie out. Then she walked the dog to Tucker’s door in time to help him as he slid from the passenger side. She looked at him, shook her head, and said, “You’re not looking so good.”

  She reached past him and picked up their dinners from the footwell. Then she walked with him carefully up the concrete path toward her front door. “I have a fenced backyard,” she said, calling Bernie to her. The dog came racing, sniffed the bags, and then stayed at her side the whole time. “And where’s the dog food?” she asked Tucker.

  “It’s still in the back of the truck,” he said.

  “I’ll get it later,” she said.

  “It’s probably too heavy for you,” he said. “I didn’t think about you dealing with it. I just bought a big bag.”

  “Not a problem,” she said. “I’ll figure it out.” She unlocked her place and pushed open the door and let him in. A big recliner was off to the side. She pointed it out and said, “Why don’t you just sit down and relax?”

  He looked at it and gratefully eased himself into the seat.

  “This is a big chair,” he said, settling in.

  “Yes,” she said. “I like them that way.”

  “Good choice,” he said, stretching out with his eyes closed again.

  “Do you want any food?” she asked, closing the front door and walking through to the kitchen on the same pathway. She opened up the back door and let Bernie out. Addie propped open the door and said, “It’s also nice outside, if you want to sit out there.”

  He made his way from the big recliner and out to the backyard. He sat on the deck at the tiny patio table and smiled. “It’s small, but it suits you.”

  “It was a place to get away,” she said. “It came on the market pretty cheap, during one of the many economic depressions, and I bought it,” she said. “I haven’t regretted it.”

  “There’s nothing like having your own space,” he said.

  “Do you want anything to eat or drink yet?”

  “No,” he said. “I was looking at buying a place in this next year or so, but I had my accident first, and now I’m not sure where and what I’m doing.”

  “Right,” she said, “you better phone Rodney and let him know that you’re okay.”

  “I already did,” he said.

  “Okay, I’ll go out and see if I can lift that bag of dog food.”

  “Alternatively,” he said, “because I know it’s heavy, maybe just take a bowl out, open up a corner, and bring in some dog food for her.”

  “That works too,” she said. She probably wasn’t capable of getting the bag out on her own, and she didn’t want him even trying. But, if he saw her struggling, then chances were he would try to get it out for her. She went in and grabbed a big mixing bowl and headed out to the truck, feeling a little foolish. She cut open the top of the bag dipped the bowl inside until it was full, grabbed the pack of treats, and brought them back into the house too.

  As soon as Bernie saw her, she came running, trying to get into the bowl. Addie walked into the kitchen, laughing, and divvied it into a smaller bowl and took it outside on the deck. She filled a matching bowl full of water and put it down for the dog too. Bernie immediately dove into the bowl of food.

  “Now that’s what I like to see,” she said, “a healthy appetite.”

  “Well, I had an appetite,” he said, “but that was before getting my head smashed.”

  “And we do have our dinner all boxed up,” she said, “if you want to try that.”

  “We might as well warm it up,” he said. “Maybe I’ll get a little down.”

  “I have an air fryer. I can toss in all the fries and see if I can crisp them back up again.”

  “You do that,” he said. “I’ll just sit here and rest.”

  She went through the motions of rewarming the meat out of the buns, remade the burgers, and put the fries into the air fryer. By the time it was all ready and hot at the same time, she carried it out to f
ind him gently sleeping beside her. She set down the plates quietly.

  “I’m not sleeping.”

  “Too bad,” she said. “I wish you were.”

  “I’m fine,” he said, opening his eyes and smiling at her.

  “You’re a tough nut.”

  “And I have a tough head, yes,” he said with a slight nod. “And a strong constitution, which was a good thing when I was on missions,” he said, “because I do heal fast.”

  “Well, you used to,” she said, “but every time it’s different. And the more injuries you have, the slower you heal.”

  “And I probably used up all my goodwill in healing by now,” he said, “but I don’t feel that bad.”

  “Good painkillers,” she said cheerfully. She nudged his plate and said, “See if you can get some food down.”

  He took one look, smiled, and said, “This looks good. Location-wise, your place is much nicer than the restaurant.”

  “Just a few hours later eating our dinner,” she said. “We didn’t expect that jaunt to the hospital.”

  “No, but all’s well that ends well.”

  Tucker finished the burger and looked at his empty plate. “Considering that was warmed up from a couple hours ago,” he said, “it tasted surprisingly well.”

  “Good,” she said, “also good on that maybe you’re not feeling too bad.”

  “Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix,” he said. He looked down to see Bernie lying at his feet with a hopeful look in her eyes. He smiled and said, “I don’t have anything for you, girl.”

  She just laid her head on his foot, and he reached down and scratched her gently.

  “What’s the chance of you getting some hands-on training for her?” she asked him curiously.

  He looked up at her. “What are you thinking?”

  “There’s probably a need for her services,” she said. “When you consider it, she could do an awful lot to help people. It would be a hell of a new job for you too.”

  “Instead of construction?” he asked with a smile.

  “I get the idea that the construction job is a temporary one for you, but maybe I’m wrong.” She shrugged. “It’s your life. I don’t mean to be getting too involved.”