She nodded and let him go.
Consuela looked at her and knew there was something more going on. She went closer to Sam and asked, "Miss Sam, what's wrong?"
A few stray tears escaped Sam's eyes as she quickly said, "I didn't know Trevor is an EMT. I thought he was just being overprotective again and said some rude things, like since he's not a doctor I would certainly think I'd know more about if I was hurt than he would." She looked at Consuela and said, "He was looking out for me and I was awful to him. When will I ever learn? He probably hates me now."
Consuela patted her hand and was ready to reassure her, when Trevor came back into the room, saying, "No, I don't hate you, Sam. Far from it." He came over to stand in front of her and when he saw the tears on her cheeks he put the washcloth down and took her into his arms.
Consuela said, "I see you have things under control here, Mr. Trevor, so I will be in my suite. If you need anything, call me."
Smiling at her, he said, "Thank you, Consuela."
When they were alone, he rubbed her back to calm her down. "Sweetie, we'll talk in a little bit. But rest assured, I definitely do not hate you." He kissed her forehead and pulled back and started washing her wrist gently, checking the swelling.
After a minute she said, "So you're an EMT?"
"Yes. Occasionally one of the hands got hurt on the ranch and I always felt helpless. I didn't know if it was safe to move him and take him to the doctor or if we needed to call an ambulance. And if he was quite a ways from the house it complicated it further. So I took some EMT courses so I'd be able to answer those questions better. Does that hurt?" He moved her wrist gently, watching her reaction.
"No."
"How about this? And this?"
He saw her flinch that time, but she still said, "No."
Assuming her flinch meant it did hurt, there was one other thing he had to try, which he was afraid would also hurt, but he had to know. So he watched her expression closely and asked, "How about this?"
"Oh!" She quickly recovered and said, "Maybe a little, but not bad."
"Samantha Louise Simmerly, you are already in trouble with me. You do not want to lie to me right now."
Sam jumped at the intensity of his voice and quietly said, "Sorry. Okay, yes, it does hurt." With tears running down her cheeks again she said, "But I don't want it to."
She was so darn cute when she said that, all his anger left him. He pulled her in against his chest and said, "I know you don't, Sweetie and I'm sorry I had to do that."
He held her until she stopped crying. He pulled back and told her, "I think your ankle's okay, but I want to check it to be sure."
As he started gently feeling and pushing and prodding her ankle, she asked, "What about my wrist?"
He looked up at her and, letting go of her ankle for a moment, picked her wrist up and kissed it. "I don't think it's broken, but I do think it's sprained. I want to get an X–ray, though, to be sure." He grinned and said, "I'd like to have a doctor tell us how much I should pamper you and for how long."
"Do we have to do that? Can't we just see if the swelling goes down first?"
"Samantha, I'm not angry any more, but we're still going to be discussing several things. Are you sure you want to argue with me?"
Seeing the grim look on his face, she quickly said, "Yeah, maybe not."
He smiled. She might give him gray hair before he turned 30, but he was going to enjoy every minute of it. He finished checking out her ankle and said, "It looks okay. Wait right here a minute, Sweetheart." He left, but came right back with a soft pillow. He handed it to her, saying, "Rest your wrist on this on the way to the hospital. It'll feel better. Now, I had my arm around you on the way in here and your boot was on for added support. Let's make sure you're okay to stand on your own without your boot."
He gently lifted her down to the floor, letting go of her slowly, watching her carefully. "Okay, try walking." When he was sure she could put weight on her ankle, he sat her down at the table while he went to get her a pair of shoes. After putting them on for her he helped her stand. He gave her some Tylenol for the pain and made sure she had her pillow.
Consuela came out to check on them. Trevor told her, "I'm going to take her into the hospital to get an X–ray. If Clay gets here before we get back can you ––"
"I haven't seen Clay in a long time. I like him. We will get along fine until you get back. Take care of Miss Sam."
"I try to, Consuela. I try."
Sam understood what he was referring to and looked down.
He helped her out to his truck and lifted her onto the seat and closed her door. He got in the driver's seat and off they went. She was quiet on the way in. He reached over and held her hand. "You'll be okay, Sweetie." He squeezed her hand and said, "And so will we."
Luckily, late Sunday morning was not a busy time at the ER. It didn't take long before they were on their way back home. Her wrist was wrapped, she was a bit goofy from a pain pill they gave her when the doctor had to stretch her wrist to X–ray it and she had more pain pills in her purse. Those would make her sleepy, they warned and she hadn't wanted to take another one when they had company coming.
On the way home Sam asked, "Trevor, are you mad at me?"
"No, Sam, I'm not. I'm disappointed, but I'm not angry."
"What are you going to do?"
Trevor had to smile a bit because he doubted she would be asking that question if she hadn't taken the pain pill. He didn't want to take advantage of her condition and he also didn't want to discuss it until he was sure she comprehended what they were saying. "Sam, we'll talk about it later."
"When?"
"Probably after Clay goes home."
"Can't we talk now? I don't want to wait that long."
"I know, Sweetie and I'm sorry we have to wait that long, but I don't want to talk about it now."
"Why not?"
"Because you've taken a pain pill and you're not thinking quite right."
"I'm thinking just fine. Know why?"
"Why?"
"Because I'm thinking you're gonna spank me and so we should do it now."
"Why's that?"
"While I'm on the pain pill, silly."
"Yeah, I'm the silly one."
They talked more on the way home and the goofy effect was wearing off by the time they arrived.
Consuela came running out when they pulled in, followed by Clay. Trevor assured them all that Sam was okay. A bit silly maybe, but fine.
"I'm fine, really," she assured them, "and I don't think I'm silly any more. I think that's wearing off."
Trevor looked at her and said, "The doctor said that pill would make you a little goofy. If you're not feeling goofy any more, how's your pain? Do you need one of the pain pills they sent home?"
"No, I'm okay. I'll let you know if I need one."
"No, you won't, but I'll keep an eye on you. When it starts bothering you more, I'll give you one."
Clay burst out laughing. "How long have you two been together?"
Sam said, "Not that long," at the same time Trevor said, "Long enough for me to tell when she's in pain and to know she won't admit it to me."
Laughing again, Clay asked Consuela, "Do they always see eye to eye like this?"
Chuckling, she answered, "Usually, yes. They make wonderful match, no?"
Clay agreed, "Yes, they make a wonderful match." He told Trevor, "She's going to keep you hopping, buddy."
Trevor smiled at all of them and sat down on the couch, pulling Sam down to sit on his lap, being careful of her wrist. "She certainly is," he agreed. He looked at her and added, "And I'm looking forward to it." He gave her a kiss on her forehead and leaned her head against his shoulder, saying, "Why don't you rest a bit, Sweetheart? You look a bit pale."
She started to argue, but realized she was a bit tired. And he had her facing the rest of the living room where she could see Clay, and Trevor's arms around her did feel awfully good. So instead she settled in a
gainst him and enjoyed the conversation.
After about 30 minutes she tried to get up to go to the kitchen. Trevor kept his hold on her, asking, "Where are you going?"
"Out to make lunch. I made some of it this morning, but I have to finish it if you want lunch today."
"Darlin', you heard the doctor this morning just as well as I did. You're not doing anything in the kitchen with your right hand."
"And I suppose you have a plan for how lunch is going to finish itself?"
"Sort of. Clay and I are going to finish it while you tell us how."
"Nonsense. I can do it." She was looking at Trevor, trying to convince him she needed to get up.
"Yes, you could. But then I'd have to do something that I can do, too." She looked at him closer, confused, until he raised his eyebrows and gave her that stern look. "And my wrist is fine, not hurt in the least. It's in good working order, as is my hand." She turned red and hid her face in his chest. He kissed the top of her head and quietly said, "You can look up, Honey. Clay had gone out to answer his phone. I wouldn't have said that in front of him, but I meant what I said. The doctor said you're not to use that wrist for at least a week and I expect you to follow his instructions. Or else. Understand?"
"Yes, I understand. But I hate that Clay came for lunch as our guest and we're asking him to help make it."
"Honey, he and I shared an apartment in college. We can both cook." Seeing her unsure expression he added, "I didn't say we're good cooks, I just said we can cook. But with you instructing us, I'm sure we can manage."
"I still hate asking you and Clay to make lunch."
Consuela walked into the room then and said, "I'd hate to ask them to cook lunch, too, Miss Sam. I've tasted Mr. Trevor's cooking. That's why I finished it. It's ready whenever you want to eat, but it will keep awhile if you're not ready yet."
Sam smiled at her friend and said, "Thank you, Consuela, but this is your day off. You shouldn't have to cook today."
"I didn't have to cook today, Miss Sam. I cooked today because I wanted to. I wanted to help you out since you got hurt. That is what friends do."
Sam tried to get off Trevor's lap again and this time he not only allowed it, he helped her up. She went to Consuela and gave her a hug. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, Miss Sam. Remember, I said we women in this house have to stick together." She looked at Trevor and said, "While I was in the kitchen, though, I saw something new. There is a new step stool, like the one I use, leaning against the wall. Mine is fine. Why did you get a new one?"
He smiled and said, "I got that for Sam, for the guesthouse." He turned to Sam and said, "Remember I told you last night I have something for you?" She nodded and he said, "Now, no more standing on chairs to reach things. I don't want you to fall and hurt your wrist or something."
She chuckled and said, "Okay, I hear you. Thank you, Trevor."
"You're welcome." Then looking at his long–time friend and cook, he said, "Thank you for finishing lunch for us. That was very kind. You are going to join us for lunch, aren't you?"
"You younger people go ahead and eat without me. You don't need me there."
Clay, who had finished his phone call and was standing in the doorway, said, "Nonsense, Consuela."
Trevor suggested, "Let's all grab something and take it out to the patio. Any objections?"
They all four went to the kitchen, but when Sam reached for the bowl of potato salad, he moved it aside and instead gave her the package of buns. She sighed, but picked up the buns in her left hand and headed for the patio. She heard his quiet, "Thank you," and turned to smile at him.
The four of them had a wonderful lunch. Clay complimented the cook on the delicious BBQ beef sandwiches and Sam quickly said Consuela made them. Consuela said, "No, I did not. Miss Sam rubbed spices on a roast and put it in the oven. She also made the sauce. All I did was shred the meat and stir it into the sauce. Miss Sam is a good cook. She also made the potato salad and the cake before she got hurt.
Trevor looked over at Sam. "You got up early to make lunch today. Thank you. And Clay's right; it's delicious." Her face turned as red as anytime he mentioned a spanking. He had to smile. She was so darn cute.
When they were ready for cake Trevor went to the kitchen and returned with a pot of coffee and cups and a pain pill for Sam. As Consuela poured the coffee he handed Sam the pill and her glass of iced tea.
"No, I don't need that. I'm fine."
Trevor gently pulled her chin up to look at him and said, "Sam, if you can look me in the eye and tell me your wrist is not throbbing and sore, I'll take this back in the house."
She squared her shoulders, looked into his eyes and said, "My wrist is – I'm ––" Her shoulders slumped and she said, "Give me the damn pill."
He had to fight a smile as he said, "Language."
She exhaled, totally frustrated, glanced back up at him and said, "Sorry."
He smiled at her and kissed the tip of her nose as he held out the pain pill.
Clay started talking to Consuela about Trevor and Sam.
While they were busy talking to each other, Sam took the pill, then asked Trevor, "How did you know?"
"You quieted a bit, but I could see it in your eyes. I hate seeing you hurting, Sam."
Looking to be sure the others were still not listening, she quietly told him, "Remember that when we talk about what happened this morning."
He laughed, as he reached over to capture her hand. "That's different and you know it, Miss Sam."
Clay and Consuela looked up at Trevor's laugh. Clay asked, "Did we miss something?"
"Just a personal joke," Trevor assured him.
They visited awhile longer, all of them carrying things back inside and doing the dishes, although all Trevor let Sam do was carry the remaining buns back inside.
After the dishes were done Consuela said, "Thank you for including me in your lunch, but if you'll excuse me, I'm going to visit a friend this evening."
Both men stood as she started to leave and Trevor told her, "Thank you for your help, Consuela. Do you need a ride there?"
"No, she's coming to pick me up in a few minutes."
"Okay. Have a good time."
Once she left Trevor turned to Sam. "Sweetheart, the pain pill's making you sleepy, I can tell. Instead of fighting it, why don't you lie down and rest a little while. If you fall asleep I promise I'll wake you up before we start grilling the steaks for supper, okay?"
She looked at both men and reluctantly agreed. "I hate to because I've had such a good time listening to you and Clay, but you're right, I am getting drowsy."
Clay offered, "Sam, I know how drowsy those pain pills can make you. If you want to sleep, go ahead. I promise I'll save all the really good stories about Trevor for over supper."
With a big grin, she said, "Well, in that case, I think I will rest a bit then. Have you got any good embarrassing stories of him when you guys were growing up?"
Trevor growled, actually growled, "Sam."
"Yes, dear?"
Both men laughed at the innocence she betrayed. Trevor told Clay, "There's beer in the fridge, Clay. Help yourself. I'm going to take my innocent little angel out to the guesthouse and get her tucked in bed."
When Trevor came back ten minutes later Clay said, "What's with the guesthouse? She seems really nice and you guys seem like you're getting along great."
"Sam's fantastic. I've never met a woman that's affected me like she has. But I really want this to work, so I'm determined we're going slow. We just met a month ago and although we work together and see each other daily, it's only been a month. It may kill me, but I'm going to take it slow and not mess this up."
"I hear you. Good luck."
"Thanks. But listen, I need to talk to you while Sam's sleeping."
"About what?"
"I'd like to hire you, your detective agency."
Chapter 8
Clay looked at Trevor curiously. "What do you need to hire a d
etective for?"
"Something doesn't sound right about Sam's father's death. I haven't said anything to her about it because I obviously have no proof and I don't want to get her upset if it's nothing."
"I understand. What doesn't sound right?"
"Let me give you a brief history here. See if it sounds right to you. Sam is an only child. Apparently she got along well with both parents while she was growing up on their ranch and was told she'd inherit it some day. She loved everything about ranching and her father taught her everything she wanted to learn. Her mother died suddenly while she was in college, but she and her dad seemed to get even closer and made plans to run the ranch together when she graduated, with the idea that she would eventually run it herself and inherit it."
"Okay."
"Then the next year, while she was in college, he meets a woman and is married. That was followed by his death and guess what; the new wife inherits the ranch. She kicked Sam off the ranch and sold it. Sam got nothing. She feels betrayed by her father. I think she was betrayed, all right, but not by her father. You're the detective. What do you think?"
"I think it's definitely worth doing a little digging into. It does sound a bit suspicious. Where was the ranch; was it very big?"
"I have no idea how big it was. It's very painful for her to talk about, so I haven't asked her any questions about it. She feels so betrayed and like her father let her down. I'd love to be able to restore her respect and faith in her father."
"That would be nice. Do you have anything to go on; do you know where the ranch was?"
"Amarillo. Right in your back yard."
"What's Sam's last name, or what was her father's name?"
"Simmerly. I don't know the name of the ranch, but her dad's name was ––"
"Hank?"
Trevor's eyebrows shot up. "Yes. Did you know him, or what do you know here?"
"I never met him, but if you live around Amarillo you've probably heard of him. He did a lot for the community and had a wonderful reputation. I remember the visitation hours created a traffic jam, there were so many people." He thought a minute and said, "You know, at the time I thought it was a little odd. They didn't really say what the cause of death was and he seemed awfully young to me. I think it's definitely worth looking into. I'll do some digging and see what I can find."
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