“I’ll take good care of him.”
“I’m sure you will.” I say with certainty.
An hour later, when they’re not back yet, I start to worry. As I work my way to the porch, I see Grayson’s truck pull up. Trotting over to the truck, I can’t believe how concerned I am over this animal. It’s odd. I’ve never had a dog before. Grayson exits the truck and I can see Chip laying on the front seat. His snout rests on the seat, and his head is stuck in a plastic cone. The injured paw is bandaged up with white tape that looks like a saw couldn’t cut through it.
“He’s not very happy.” Grayson says as I move out of the way so he can get the dog. “He was fine until Dr. Green put the cone on his head. Then he started whining.”
“Did he have to put him under anesthetic?”
Grayson shakes his head no. “They just gave him a local. Three stitches. But he has to wear this cone until the stitches come out. Dr. Green says that the paw is pretty mangled and if he chews through the stitches, he could lose his paw if it gets infected.”
He opens the door and Chip doesn’t even lift his head. “Poor little guy.” I whine. “Is he unable to walk?”
“He’ll be sore.” Grayson answers, picking Chip up.
I wince as Grayson grunts with his weight. “Does he weigh a lot?”
“Just awkward. Is there some place we can put him, so he’ll be comfortable?”
“Can you manage taking him up to my bed?” I ask, unsure.
“Sure. Lead the way.”
Grayson’s biceps are bulging right out as he carries Chip to the house, up the stairs, and lays him on my bed. There is a thick quilt at the bottom, which is a perfect spot for him. “Is it alright to lay him there?”
“Certainly.”
My bedroom hasn’t changed in years. The only thing I changed since Quentin’s death was the hideous moose head and antlers he insisted we hang over the bed. We argued over it for years, but that was the first thing to go after he died. The thing gave me nightmares when he wasn’t around, even when he was alive. I replaced it with a large, black & white framed photograph of Kelsey Ranch back when it was first built by my grandfather. Lisa, my sister-in-law, is a photographer, and she had an aerial photograph done when she dated a helicopter pilot, after the new barn, guest house and staff quarters were built. It’s gorgeous, and it’s hung on the opposite wall, over the gas fireplace, in black & white, of course.
It’s a rustic room, just like the rest of the house. The bed is oak, with a carved head and footboard, and the spindles are also carved. The dust ruffle hangs over the raised bed, and the matching oak nightstands have antique touch lamps on them. Also oak, the double dresser has twelve drawers and a large, antique oval mirror hung above it. On the dark oak floor are area rugs with accent colors in red and purple, which are mirrored in the pillows, curtains, and some decorative candles I have peppered around the room.
Lisa put my room together, in case you’re wondering. I do not have the eye for décor that she does. The only modern things in my bedroom are the laptop, charging dock, and the vertical blinds covering my large windows. That’s also how I get away with having such a dark color palette in my room; because the window is open all the time, lending much needed natural light. Lisa insisted I put blinds up and leave them open when she did the final touches. This is the room I grew up in. The master bedroom I turned into a small sitting room. All the bedrooms still have the beds they had when we were growing up. The family was so large that many of us had to double up.
Chip lifts his head when Grayson lays him on my bed. He sniffs the air but otherwise doesn’t move. “Beautiful bedroom.” Grayson comments, looking around.
“Thank you. I can’t take credit for it. Lisa did it for me.”
“She a decorator?” he asks, hooking his thumbs through the loops on his jeans, as he walks over to the aerial photograph and observes it.
“Part-time. She’s also a photographer. All her work is freelance.”
“Impressive. Beautiful photography.”
“Thanks.”
Chip lets out a little whine as he licks his lips from inside the cone. “You okay, Chip?” I ask, petting his head as best as I can through the hole.
He just licks his lips again. “Maybe we can take it off when we’re watching him?”
“Dr. Green said that we can take it off here and there, yes. Especially when he eats and does his business. But I wouldn’t recommend leaving it off overnight. He’ll likely have chewed himself out of the bandage by morning.” Then he adds. “I can take him down to my room later, when you’re ready for bed.”
“No, that’s fine. He can sleep here. He’ll be more comfortable. Your bed is only a single.”
Grayson shrugs. “He may keep you up.”
“It’s okay.”
“Your brother’s party is the day after tomorrow. You want to be fresh for that, right?”
I smile, petting Chip. “I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can.” As Grayson pats the door, on his way out, Chip whimpers. “What’s the matter, buddy?” he chuckles, walking to him.
“Do you think his paw is sore?” I ask.
“The freezing is probably still active.” Grayson says. “Maybe we should take the helmet off for a while. See if he perks up.”
I giggle at ‘helmet’.
Grayson smiles. “Well, you wouldn’t like to have one of these…flowerpots on your head, would you?”
“Not even a little bit.”
He unties the hood and pulls it off. Chip immediately raises his head and wags his tail. “It appears that you read his mind.” I comment.
“Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.” Grayson winks. “I’ll get back to work. Call me if you need me to pick him up. He should probably go do his business shortly, anyway. It’s been a while since he went. I wouldn’t want him to pee on your nice quilt.”
“We’ll deal with it.” I decide to change the subject. “What did you think of Lisa?” I smile, like I’m expecting a quirky answer.
He lifts a brow, drawing in a breath. “She’s a…spitfire. That’s for sure.”
“She likes you.”
“No.” he growls sarcastically, like he’s one hundred percent sure that she does. “My guess is that she likes every male she bumps shoulders with.”
Grinning, I look at him. “Any of your family or friends ever ask about you dating again?”
He chuckles. “Only all the time. You?”
“Same.”
Another chuckle. “At least for the last year I had an excuse. When you’re in recovery, you can’t date anyone. But that only lasted a year. I’ve got to come up with another excuse pretty soon.”
“You better. Lisa’s after you, and threatening to fix us up if that doesn’t work.”
He scoffs, good-naturedly. “What, is she the town matchmaker?”
“Close enough.” I giggle. “You ever think about dating again?” I ask, peering down at his shirt, where his wedding bands used to dangle.
Looking at me speculatively, he says. “Someday, maybe. But I need to look after other things first.”
“Other things?”
“Yeah. Like moving here and deciding what to do with my life. Paying off debt. Then I can move on.” He explains sincerely. “I shot myself in the foot when I started drinking, and it was a long, downward spiral on the way to get dried out.”
I look up at him, after petting Chip on the head. “That part about what to do with your life…have you ever thought about going back into medicine?”
He searches my eyes as he slides his hand down Chip’s back. “I suppose that’s part of the reason why I moved out of El Paso. I guess I just didn’t figure that part out yet. My gut was telling me to leave, I just didn’t know why.”
As he says this, he speaks so softly, it makes me shiver. That’s when I wonder if maybe there is another reason why he felt inclined
to move out of the city, and maybe it wasn’t his gut driving him to it…maybe it was his heart.
Chapter 11
Grayson
I’m still hungry when bedtime comes, so I head down to the house, and knock on the front door. Laura answers the door in her robe. Her hair is all out, in waves down her chest, all the way to her waist. Somehow, it looks longer than it did the other morning. “Sorry to bother you, but I’m starving. I meant to pick up some snacks the other day for my place, but I didn’t get around to it. Grace said that there were leftovers from dinner. Do you mind if I raid the fridge?”
“No. Not at all. Come on in.” she says, opening the door. She smells like lavender, like she just took a bath.
“What do I smell?” I ask, drawing in a deep breath.
“Essential oils. It helps relax the muscles.” She explains. “If you ever want to use my soaker tub, feel free.”
“I love the smell.” I chuckle as I walk to the kitchen. “There’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.”
“Wasn’t that potato salad Grace made delicious?” Laura says conversationally.
“There’s some left. Plus a hamburger or two. You want some?” I ask, pulling everything out of the fridge.
“I’ll have some potato salad.” She says, getting two plates down from the overhead cupboard. “I could eat all the time if you let me.”
“Same here.”
“You’ll enjoy Saturday then. Plenty of food to go around.”
“What are you making?” I ask, eating potato salad right from the bowl.
“It’s like a Hawaiian salad. Pineapples, whip cream, jello, marshmallows. It was my mother’s recipe.”
“Sounds amazing.” I say, scooping salad on Laura’s plate.
“You want me to warm up the burger in the toaster oven?” she offers.
I point to myself with my thumb. “I’m a guy. No need to warm anything up for me.”
“Well, pardon me.” she says, feigning irritation.
I give her back a little rub, smiling.
She looks at me and smiles.
“You know, so far, you’re a pretty cool boss.” I comment, taking a bite of the burger. “I figured you were all business. Rigid. Maybe even a little bit bitchy.”
“When your longest employee blows himself away, it changes you a little.”
“Point taken.” I agree. “But, from the other guys, I don’t get the feeling that you’re like that, anyway.”
“Cross my path the wrong way and I turn into a tiger. Stay on my good side and I’m as reasonable as a grandparent.”
“I see that.” I agree. “Oh, that reminds me. I forgot to give you the credit card back, and the receipt.” I say, pulling it out of my pocket. I’m showered and changed from the day’s work, but that was the other reason I wanted to come down to the house. If I left Laura’s credit card in my room all night, I’d never sleep. I place the credit card on top of the receipt and hand it to her. She tucks it into the pocket of her robe with thanks.
“How’s Chip?” I ask.
“Sleeping on the bed. I don’t want to leave him alone for too long, though. I left his cone off.”
“Do you want me to go check on him?”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll go back up in a minute.”
Something in me wants her to stay. I enjoy her company. She’s sweet and funny, and her voice is always warm and soothing. As I scarf down the rest of the burger, she says goodnight and heads upstairs. Cleaning up the mess, I hear her call for me from upstairs. “Grayson? Can you come up here for a minute?”
“Sure. Be right there.” I say, putting the last dish away. As I trot upstairs, I can hear her chuckling.
She’s on the bed with Chip. And as she tries to tie the bow in the material around Chip’s neck, he keeps pawing her away. “He’s a clever man.”
“Here. Let me help.” I gently push his paws down. “You have to wear this thing, little man. It’s for your own good.”
As she ties it around his neck, he starts to whine again. Just once.
“Thanks, Grayson.” Laura says.
“Any time. Goodnight.” As I get up, Chip whines again.
I chuckle. “Oh, this could be interesting.”
“He doesn’t want you to leave.”
“Seems like.”
Laura pats the bed. “Come sit for a while. Maybe he’ll fall asleep and then you can sneak out.”
Sitting on her bed, my butt sinks in. “Wow. Now that’s comfortable. Better not let me lay on here or I’ll be history.” I say honestly. I’m dog tired from work, and now that I’ve eaten, I feel a food coma coming on.
“I just took a bath in sleep-inducing oils. If anyone’s going to fall asleep first, it’s me.” She says matter-of-factly.
“That’d be a funny rumor going around town, huh.” I joke. “Laura Warner sleeps with Lead Hand the first week on the job. Story at eleven.”
She snorts a laugh. “You can tell that you once lived with a reporter.”
“There’s that.” I chuckle. Her skin looks so soft as she pets Chip. For working on a ranch all her life, her hands don’t have a wrinkle on them. Even her nails are clean. “I’d like to know your secret.”
“What secret?”
I show her my hands. They’re wrinkled, stained with grime, and the nails are only ever clean when I freshly clip them, which I haven’t done. “Look at your hands compared to mine. Is that because of all those books you do all day? You’re not exposed to the horses as much?”
“No, you’ve seen me out with the horses. I’m only in the office for a couple of hours a day. Some days not at all. It’s the baths. They draw the goo out. A trick my mom taught me. She grew up on a cattle farm until she met my dad, then she was here. Not once did she have a scrap of dirt on her hands.”
“Well, I’ll have to remember that. Maybe I’ll soak my hands in a bowl while I watch television or something.”
“I’m sure the boys won’t poke at you for that at all, Grayson. Remember that there’s no television in your room, only in the common area.” She reminds, smiling.
“Oh, yeah.” I puff out air quickly. “I totally forgot about that.”
“Would you like a television in your room? I can arrange it if you like.”
I wave, and then pet Chip. “No, that’s fine. I don’t watch a lot of television anyway. I read novels.”
“Have you been to the library yet?”
“No, but I download them onto my phone and read them from there.”
“How very modern of you.” She grins. “But we do have an excellent library if you ever want to check it out. I’ve borrowed a bunch of books from there recently.”
“A big reader, are you?”
“Might I remind you that I don’t have a television.” She says, almost impressed with herself.
We’re both petting Chip, when Laura yawns. She lays her head down beside Chip and continues petting him. Stretching her body out, so her feet almost touch the pillows, she pulls her long locks of hair over her shoulder, so it’s laying all down her back, invisible to me from in front of her. Chip’s eyes close intermittently with the affection.
“You’ve got the Midas touch there, Laura.” I say softly. “But, do you want to know what truly puts an animal to sleep.”
She yawns again. “Listening to your boring stories.” She can’t help but giggle halfway through the word ‘stories’.
“Hardy har.” I rebuke gently as I lay on my side, mirroring her, and use my index finger to stroke Chip between his eyes, slowly down his nose. I repeat that, watching his eyes close. Resting my head on my opposite arm, I continue this procedure, until his head incrementally lowers, and his snout touches the bed. When I look up, Laura’s eyes are closed, but her hand is resting on Chip. Fearing I’ll wake her, I keep massaging Chip’s snout.
…and then I fall asleep.
In the middle of the night, I awake slightly. Laura
has flipped over, so her back is to me, and she’s inched her way closer to me. Chip is out like a light, so I slowly try to get up out of the bed, but he lifts his head the second I move. “Shoot.” I mutter under my breath, as I start stroking his snout again. He lowers his head almost instinctively, and I rest my head back on my arm. When I wake up again later, Laura is in the middle of the bed, right up against me, and my arm is resting on her waist. I am frozen and the dog is out of it, as is Laura. And then, she inhales a deep breath, and pulls my hand over her belly, tucking it under her.
Such an odd sensation, as I realize she must think that I’m Quentin. There is no way that she would permit such a gesture with me. All the same, she’s warm and soft, and it’s been so long since I’ve been intimate with a woman, that I’ve forgotten how comforting it can be. I allow myself to snuggle in closer to her and take in her scent. Her hair is oceans long and so incredibly beautiful, just like her. And as much as I know that I’m pretending Laura is actually cuddling with me, not a figment of her dead husband, it still feels…wonderful.
The next time I awake, the dawn sunlight is starting to present itself. Slowly, quietly, I inch my way off the bed, making sure I keep contact with Chip as I do, so he doesn’t whimper. As I make it off the bed, I carefully pull him to me, and carry him with me out of the bedroom, closing the door in my wake. When I get him outside, I set him down on the porch, to see if he is able to walk. His limp is very pronounced at first, but then it becomes less obvious as he takes a few steps. I help him down the stairs. The grass must be more comfortable for him because he takes off to find the nearest tree.
Looking at my watch, I see that it’s almost four o’clock in the morning. After Chip does his business, I head back to my room, taking the dog with me, and get another hour of sleep. When my alarm goes off, Chip is laying on the floor without his cone on, and he is none the wiser. His bandage is unscathed, and I’m relieved. After I prepare myself for the day, I head out to the barn and get started before breakfast. It’s always my goal to get at least one thing done before I’m called for breakfast.
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