by Dylann Crush
He should have let Waylon and Darby do the final challenge. But Waylon had about forty pounds on him, so he knew they had a better chance of staying ahead of Presley if the horse didn’t have to cart Waylon’s fat ass around.
He ended a call with Statler and was about to reenter the hospital room when his phone buzzed again. Dammit. Charlie. She’d volunteered to keep an eye on Kenzie while he and Jinx were at the hospital. Better not ignore this one.
“Yeah?”
“Hey. Just wanted to give you a heads-up. Mom’s on her way over.” He could practically hear the smile in her voice.
“What do you mean she’s on her way over? She’s hosting Thanksgiving at her place this afternoon.”
“Well, that was before your girlfriend ended up being admitted.”
“Whoa. She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Okay. Then what would you call her? Your pet project? Your indentured servant?”
“Hey, that’s not fair.” His lungs squeezed together. He and Jinx were friends. That’s all. “We’re friends. She’s like the sister I never had.”
“Hmm. As your only sister, I’m going to have to take offense to that. Besides, the things you want to do with Jinx are not the kind of things you’d do with a family member.”
How would she know what he wanted to do with Jinx? Unless…had Jinx confided in Charlie? “What in the hell has she told you?”
“Nothing, Einstein. But it doesn’t take a super sleuth to see the way you look at her when you don’t think anyone’s watching. And when’s the last time you went out of your way to give someone a ride anywhere? You’ve been driving her back and forth to work since she got into town.”
“She doesn’t have a vehicle.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t have a life—at least you didn’t until she got stranded here.”
That wasn’t true at all. He had a life. He had Kenzie. He had a job he loved and a family who backed him up, at least most of the time. “I’m not discussing this with you right now.”
“Good idea. Mom ought to be there in a few minutes. You’d better brace yourself for the impact. Don’t worry about Kenzie. She’s playing with that dog Jinx has. He’s really cute. You should get her one.”
“She’s already got Chucky.” Plus the pony his dad had bought her for her fifth birthday.
“Chucky isn’t a cat. He’s more like a Tasmanian devil in a cat suit. Anyway, I’ll let you go. Good luck with Mom. I’ll plan on keeping Kenzie overnight.”
“Thanks, Sis.”
“My pleasure. Give Jinx a hug from me.”
“We’ll see.”
He ended the call and went to slide his phone into his back pocket out of habit. Damn. He still had on the stupid tasseled sweats. The Turkey Trotter event was well known in Holiday but not so much in the bigger city of San Marcos. He’d received his fair share of odd looks and smirks from the hospital staff.
Jinx opened her eyes as he entered the room. They’d hooked her up to an IV since she seemed slightly dehydrated. Other than that, they suspected a mild concussion. Once the doctor came in to confirm, they’d probably send her home. Between Cash and his brothers, the Walker family had seen their fair share of head injuries over the years. Presley was the worst. He’d tried to jump off the roof of the house onto the back of a horse, convinced he wanted to be a stuntman in the movies when he was twelve. Then he got himself sidelined playing high school football when he bet a guy he could make a hit so hard he could crack his helmet. Unfortunately, he won that one but also broke four bones in his hand.
“How are you feeling?” Cash set his hand on her arm.
“The same as I was when you asked me five minutes ago.” Her blue-gray eyes sparkled at him, still full of fire and sass. “I’m sorry we lost.”
“That’s okay.” By the time they’d gotten Jinx to the truck, three different teams had stopped to pitch in, meaning the unlikely pairing of Whitey and Dwight had secured the win. “There’s always next year.”
“Next year?” Her eyes rounded.
“Sure. We’ll win back the title then. By the way, Charlie called. I guess Mom is driving over to check on you.”
“What? Why?”
He almost laughed at the shock registered on her face. “Who knows? Be sure you ask her when she gets here.”
“Ask her what?” His mom pushed open the door to Jinx’s room, her arms full of foil-covered dishes. His dad followed, a huge tote bag in one hand, a thermal carafe in the other.
“What’s all this?” Cash asked, moving toward his mom to take a few of the dishes.
“If you and Jinx can’t come to Thanksgiving, we’ll bring Thanksgiving to you.” Ann unloaded everything to Cash and walked to Jinx’s side. She ran her hand over Jinx’s forehead. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”
“Oh, I’ll be fine. Just a bump.”
“She’ll be ready for riding lessons in no time.” Cash set the food on the rolling table. “You brought enough food to feed the whole hospital, Mom. Did you leave anything at home?”
Tom lifted his eyebrows. “Really? You know better than that, Son. This is maybe ten percent of what she’s got back at the house.”
“I’ll fix plates for y’all, and then we’ll take care of feeding those fine folks who have to work on the holiday.” Ann started unwrapping dishes. “Tom, hand me those plates from the bag, please?”
“I got it, Dad.” Cash reached into the tote bag for the plates and plasticware. “Anyone tell you you’re crazy, Mom?”
“Only every single day of my life. Now, Jinx, do you like white or dark meat?”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter. I can’t believe you did this. You’re missing out on dinner with the family. I—”
Cash noticed the shift in his mom’s shoulders, the bristle in her spine.
“Now, honey, you listen to me. You’re just like family. You’re helping out with Kenzie, you’re living with Cash…why, I couldn’t let you go without a Thanksgiving dinner.”
How Jinx’s face could have paled any further was beyond him, but her skin took on the shade of the bleached, starchy pillowcase behind her head.
“She’s not exactly living with me, Mom.”
Him mom waved his comment away. “You know what I mean. Besides, I had to get you your turkey dinner.”
“Yeah, speaking of dinner, please tell me you brought me a piece of pecan pie?” Cash poked around in the bag, hoping he’d come across a pie pan or at least a slice wrapped up in foil.
Ann continued to dish up a little bit of everything onto a plate for Jinx. “Sure did.”
Cash dug through the bag for a pie-size box. “This one?”
“Yes. I know how much you enjoy your pecan pie. But dinner first, okay?”
Jinx laughed. “That sounds like what you say to Kenzie.”
Cash winked and lifted the lid to peek in on the pie. His mouth watered. He could almost taste it. Until he saw a big, fat piece of pumpkin pie nestled into the box. “Mom, I thought you said you brought me pecan.”
She peered into the box. “I did. I asked Statler to put it in a box just for you.”
“Well, he got me good this time.” Cash dropped the box back into the bag.
“When are you boys going to stop pranking each other?” Ann asked.
“After I get even with Statler.” Cash leaned against the bed. Second year in a row he’d missed out on his mom’s prize-winning pecan pie. Last year, he’d had to work, and by the time he had gotten home, his brothers had licked the pie plate clean. Dammit. Well, priorities and all. He would much rather be sitting by Jinx, even if it meant he would miss his mom’s special dessert.
By the time Ann had fixed plates for all of them, including Jinx’s nurse and the woman from registration, the doctor entered the room.
“So this is where the party is.” He offered a ha
nd to Jinx. “I’m Dr. Stafford. Looks like it’s just what we expected. You’re a lucky lady. Things could have been much worse…broken bones, a back injury. Looks like you’re going to walk out of here tonight with just a mild concussion.”
“That’s great news.” Ann set her plate down. “What can I fix you for dinner, Dr. Stafford?”
“Oh, nothing, thank you though. My shift ends soon, so I’ll get to go home for dinner.” He flipped open a chart. “I’m assuming you have somewhere to stay tonight?”
“She can stay with me.” Cash’s statement didn’t leave room for protests or arguing. But leave it to Jinx to try anyway.
“Oh, I’m sure that’s not necessary. I’ll—”
“Actually, Ms. Jacobs, it is. We’ll want someone monitoring you in case things get worse.” He turned to Cash. “You’ll need to keep an eye on her for the next twenty-four hours, preferably forty-eight. I’ll send you home with a sheet listing the things to watch for.”
Cash shook the doctor’s hand. “Thanks, Doc. I’ll take good care of her.”
Dr. Stafford nodded. “I’ll send in the nurse to get her unhooked from the IV, then you’re free to go. Oh, there is a note in the file about needing your insurance card.”
“Yeah, about that.” Jinx twisted her hands together. “I don’t exactly have—”
“I’ll take care of it on the way out. After all, I’m the idiot who crashed her into the tree.” Cash held the door open for the doctor. Jinx glared at him, a silent fist to the gut. But he wasn’t sorry for speaking up. It was his fault she was on the horse in the first place. He gave her one of his best grins; she looked away.
“Well, that’s great news.” Ann scurried around the room, putting lids back on containers. “Tom, help me move this stuff to the staff lounge? Let’s get out of here so the kids can pack it up and head home.”
His dad complied for a change, and within a few minutes, they’d left, taking all the food, chaos, and hungry members of the staff who’d heard there was a home-cooked turkey dinner in room 212 with them.
“What do you say, Jinx?” Eyebrows raised, Cash took a seat by the bed.
She’d started peeling the tape off her arm where they’d attached her IV. “I think you’re pretty pleased with yourself for rescuing me again.”
“What?”
“You’ve got to stop being so nice. What’s wrong with you people?” She winced as she ripped the tape from her arm.
“Don’t you want to wait for the nurse to do that?”
“Hand me a tissue?” She nodded toward the box of tissues secured to the wall.
He pulled a few and passed them to her just in time for her to slide the needle out of her hand. Holding the tissue over the insertion point, she let the tubing and IV drop to the floor.
“It’s not right. I can’t keep taking your charity. Your mom, your sister…hospital charges… For fuck’s sake, I’ll never be able to repay everyone.”
“Hey—” He reached for her hand, covering it with his as she pressed down on the tissue to curb the bleeding. “It’s not like that. We like you. My mom might have freaked you out a bit, but she’s right. You are kind of part of the family now, at least while you’re still in town. And that’s what family does—they look out for each other, especially during the tough times.”
She glanced up at him, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. “That’s what I’m talking about. I’m not your family. I don’t have any family. Do you know how lucky you are to have that kind of support? People aren’t like that.”
He wanted to wrap her in his arms, this tough, tatted, badass biker chick who could be reduced to tears by a paper plate full of turkey and trimmings. “What happened to your family, Jinx? Who hurt you so bad?”
She opened her mouth, about to speak. The door squeaked, and a nurse entered the room.
“I’m here to take out the… Oh.” She rounded the bed where Jinx still held the tissue to her arm. “Looks like it’s already been taken care of.”
Jinx closed her eyes, breathed in and out a few times, her jaw clenched, her body as rigid as an unbending old oak.
The nurse moved next to the bed. “Can I take a look? Let me swab it with some alcohol and get a bandage on that, okay?”
By the time the nurse finished, any sign of weakness or willingness to share had disappeared—another missed opportunity to learn more about the mysterious woman who’d crashed into his life. He held the door open for her, and in their matching, tasseled, yellow sweats, they marched toward the parking lot.
Chapter Twelve
She woke to the sound of the television. Some infomercial about the only pan a person would ever need. It could sauté, fry, poach, boil. A real one-stop shop. Kind of like the Walker family. In the dim light cast by the TV screen, she evaluated the sound-asleep caretaker next to her. He appeared to be hell-bent on following the instructions the doctor had given. Cash had insisted on sitting in the chair in the bedroom while she slept. He must have thought she was going to die in her sleep or something. She’d finally convinced him to sit on the bed so he could at least see the TV.
He’d leaned against the headboard on top of the covers while she snuggled underneath. She’d almost laughed at how careful and gentle he’d been. Every time he moved, he checked to make sure he hadn’t jostled her too much. He’d been waking her up every two hours all night long to make sure she was still alive. The effort must have got to him, since he was obviously sound asleep.
Jinx took the opportunity to look him over. With his eyes closed, he couldn’t shoot her that exasperated glare she’d grown so used to. Long, dark lashes fanned over his cheeks, making her curse the fact that guys always seemed to get the eyelashes to die for. So unfair.
A layer of scruff covered his chin and upper lip. He looked so much more relaxed in his sleep than he did awake. Vulnerable. Soft. All the hard edges were erased when he closed his eyes. She lay there, watching the hypnotic rise and fall of his chest until she couldn’t ignore her thirst or nature’s inconvenient call.
Rising from the bed, she moved as cautiously as she could, not wanting to wake him. She’d almost reached the bathroom when her foot landed on a creaky board.
“Where you headed?” Cash squinted at her, one eye open, the other squeezed shut tight.
“Bathroom and to get a drink of water. I’d also like to get out of these sweats.”
“You need some help with that?”
“That would be a hard no to that offer.”
He sat up taller, swinging his legs over the side. “Hey, I’m here for you. Whatever it takes. Squeeze your cheeks, help you get undressed, kiss your boo-boos.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “My boo-boos definitely do not need to be kissed.” Especially by you, she wanted to add. Kisses from Cash would lead her down a road she’d vowed to avoid. She didn’t need to tangle with Deputy Do-Good any more than she needed another knock to the head.
“All right, but if you change your mind…” His words trailed off, his laughter following her into the bathroom.
“I won’t.” She reached the sanctity of the master bath and closed the door behind her.
She took care of business, then washed her hands in the huge basin sink. The mirror above reflected an almost unrecognizable version of herself. Her hair hung in tangled strands, a few twigs and dry leaves caught up in knots. A line of mascara streaked down her cheek. She rubbed it away, then splashed her face with cold water.
What a mess. Her ass ached from riding in the saddle. Her head throbbed from the impact of the fall. Her hands shook as she pushed her hair behind her ears.
“You okay in there?” Cash’s voice came through the door, like he was standing outside, talking directly into the wood.
“Yeah, be out in a sec, jailer.”
“Glad to hear your sense of humor didn’t get knocked out of you.”
Nope. Just her pride, her air of independence, and her common sense. Why else would she have agreed to come back to Cash’s place instead of going straight to the bunkhouse?
“I hung a T-shirt on the door handle. Oh, and I got you some water. Put it on the nightstand.”
“Thanks,” she said, cracking open the door. She reached a hand out and snagged the T-shirt. It felt good to slip into something clean. She hadn’t bothered when Cash had first brought her back. As she left the bathroom, she flipped the light switch so he couldn’t see what a mess she’d become. Although, if he’d been with her since the hospital, he probably had already seen her at her worst.
He put an arm around her back, leading her toward the bed. “You dizzy at all? Nauseous?”
“I’m fine. Other than a splitting headache, I think I’m going to survive. You can stop monitoring my every movement.”
“I don’t mind. It’s my fault you were on the damn horse. I should have had Waylon and Darby do it.”
“Really? I thought you liked scaring the shit out of me and squeezing me so tight my guts almost popped out.”
He pulled back the covers so she could slide underneath. “I did enjoy sharing a saddle with you. But I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”
“I know. Seriously, stop blaming yourself. I’ll be fine.”
He pulled the covers up to her chin, tucking her in like she imagined a parent might tuck in a child. Not that she would know. She’d put herself to bed for as long as she could remember.
“Can I get you anything?” He hovered over her.
“There is one thing.”
“What? Just name it.”
“Do you have a comb or brush? I’d love to get some of this crap out of my hair.”
“Yeah, I’m sure Kenzie’s got something. Let me go look.”
She waited, listening to the salesman on the TV rave about the patented nonstick coating. That’s what she needed—a nonstick coating of her own. That way, she wouldn’t get attached. To Cash. To Kenzie. To the Rambling Rose. To Holiday.
