Ned is motionless, with a grimy face and hands. His overalls are spattered with blood, and there are blood sprays and droplets on the pile of dirt. Grayson rips the front panel off his shirt and begins applying the shirt, tying it around and around the boy’s arm, near his elbow. “Na, he’s not dead. The sight of blood must have made him pass out.”
Johnnie, my other hand, Ned, and Edgar’s father, approaches. He’d been riding Weasel, one of my stallions, that is going to be a contender in a show next month. He sees his son passed out in the dirt from afar, and he moves the horse into a trot.
As I dial emergency services, I watch Grayson go to work. The way he carefully ties the boy’s arm up in a practiced motion, it clearly indicates that this man has a knack for this kind of thing. It almost takes my mind off the fact that his upper body looks like something out of a magazine. But with a boy bleeding severely in my pasture, I quickly put that thought out of my mind. After making the call, Ned’s eyes start to flutter, as he regains consciousness.
“How are you doing there, partner?” Grayson says. “You got a little scratch on your arm, kid. How do you feel?”
Ned looks down at his arm, caked with blood. His eyes roll back into his head and he loses consciousness again. Johnnie slows the horse and jumps off his back. “What happened?” he asks breathlessly. Johnnie is short and stout, like Louie was, and he has a sprig of hay hanging out of his mouth.
“It was an accident.” Edgar insists. “I hit him with the pickaxe.”
“He’s severed his artery, but it should be fine. A couple of good stitches and he’ll be fixed right up.” Grayson says.
Something tells me that if Grayson had a needle and thread, that he’d patch the kid right up here and now. “The ambulance is on the way.” I say to Johnnie. “I’ll go get you another shirt.” I say to Grayson.
“No, that’s alright, Laura.” He says. “I’ve got a change of clothes in the pickup truck.”
“Okay.” Is there anything that this man isn’t prepared for?
“Have you got insurance, Johnnie?” I ask.
“No, ma’am.” He says, shaking his head. “I imagine a few stitches won’t cost much, will it?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay for it.” I say, touching his arm. Somehow, Johnnie doesn’t seem at all unsettled. Myrtle freaks out if one of her kids stubs their toe.
“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll take Weasel back to the pasture.”
“Don’t worry about that right now.” I say, as I hear the ambulance approach.
“Be a good boy and go flag the ambulance driver down.” Johnnie instructs Edgar.
“Yes, sir.” He says, running like his shorts are on fire.
The ambulance attendants appear within thirty seconds, pushing a gurney with them. “Twice this week we’ve seen one of these things.” Grayson says.
“That’s two times too many in my opinion.” I say.
One of the ambulance attendants I recognize. He’s a friend of Wendy’s. “Hi, Ted. Ned here was accidentally struck in the arm with a pickaxe.” I explain.
“I tied it off with a tourniquet here. He should be okay. Looks to me like he’s severed an artery, but it’s not cut through, otherwise he’d a bled to death by now. He’s just out because he’s a little squeamish.” Grayson explains, just as Ned’s eyes flutter open again. This time, Grayson has the sense to cover the rest of his arm with what’s left of his shirt, before he sees it and passes out again. “Hey there again.” Grayson lifts his hand in the air and pulls down his index finger and thumb. “How many fingers am I holding up, partner?”
“Three.” Ned answers.
“Do you know your name?”
“Ned Daniels, sir.”
Grayson smiles. “He’s fine. Even got a ‘sir’ out of him.”
“That’s my boy.” Johnnie responds, impressed. Then he addresses me. “I’ll go with him, if that’s okay.”
“Certainly.” I nod. “You both take the rest of the day off. I’ll put Weasel back in the pasture.”
“That’s awful kind of you, Laura. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
As the ambulance attendants lower the gurney and situate Ned on it, I look at Grayson. “Thanks for doing that.”
“If Edgar here had dug any further, that boy might have lost his arm.” He says. As Johnnie hands Weasel to Edgar, and instructs him to take the horse back to the pasture, even though I already said that I would look after that.
“I don’t even know why he was using the pickaxe, frankly.”
“Boys.” He shrugs.
We watch the ambulance take Ned, and I give the truck keys to Johnnie, so he and Edgar can drive to the hospital with him, thankful that I have two company vans; which was Will’s idea. Wendy and Grace are still out picking up supplies. Grayson walks over to his van and pulls a shirt out of a bag in the back, stretching it over his head. He tucks it in his jeans and rakes a hand through his hair, and then he places his hat back on his head. Why I’m watching him I have no idea. I divert my eyes to the ambulance as it drives off.
“Do you mind if I clean up some? I’ve got blood all over me here.” Grayson asks, carrying his bag in his hand.
“Sure. I’ll show you to your quarters.”
We walk to the back of the house, past the barn, where the guest house and the staff living quarters are. The largest building is where all the boys stay. Ned, Edgar and Johnnie live in Fort Worth, so they stay with me all year round. Johnnie’s boys are only here for the summer, and then they go back to school, and home to their mother. Simon and Lloyd are also from Fort Worth, and they live here full-time as well. I always have to hire more people when the fall comes, and Simon and Lloyd have only been here for about six months. This position has some turnover, but it could be worse.
The staff living quarters were built to resemble and function like a small cottage. The dark wood exterior has a wraparound porch, and a large window, so lots of natural light goes into the living space. My boys alternate weekends off, so I always have someone to tend to the horses and take care of the grounds. Inside the cottage is a large living area with a couch, fireplace, two armchairs, and Ned brought a bean bag chair with him from Fort Worth. There are three bedrooms, each with a set of bunkbeds. The communal washroom was built like a public restroom, but with a set of three stand-up showers behind the toilet area.
At the back of the house is a locked door leading to the Lead Hand’s quarters. There is a separate entrance in the back, but the porch is only at the front and sides of the house. I’m putting in a firepit when the order comes in, so the boys can enjoy fires at night. Unlocking the door, I switch on the light, and the small futon is to the right. Beside that is a small, two-seater wooden table. A small opening leads to the kitchenette, which has a simple miniature refrigerator/freezer, a single sink, and a plank counter. “I’m getting a toaster oven and a cooktop. It’s on order.” I explain. There is a small, two-door cupboard both above and below the counter.
“It’s cute.” Grayson says.
I lead him into the bedroom, where a double bed, tall dresser and nightstand are. The closet is very tiny, but it has one of those slick organizing units in it. Grayson looks at it. “You would be surprised what you can fit in there.” I comment. “While I had renovations done on my bedroom when my roof leaked a couple of years ago, I lived here. My entire wardrobe, including all my shoes, fit in there.”
“I believe you.” Grayson is impressed.
The bathroom is a simple three-piece, with a stand-up shower and basin for a shallow bath, a pedestal sink with storage underneath, and a toilet. “The toilet is also on order. Will is coming to install it when it comes in.”
“I can do that.” Grayson offers. Somehow, I’m not surprised that he can install a toilet.
I chuckle. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Oh, there’s lots I can’t do, Laura. You’ll see.” He winks at me.
“Did you want to bring your things in?”
“Well, is there much to do around here for today? What about that trough?”
“Yes, the trough needs to be done. But other than that, no.” I say. “I have some paperwork to do because of Ned’s accident, so I should go get started on that. OWCP is pretty quick on the case when there’s an injury in the workplace. That’s the last thing I need right now.”
“I’ll just get cleaned up and finish up that trough then.” Grayson says. “I’ll acquaint myself with the other boys.”
I smack my palm on my face. “Shoot. With all the confusion, I completely forgot! Forgive me!”
“That’s perfectly understandable, Laura. I’ll meet them later.”
His necklace with the rings is poking up out of his t-shirt, rather obviously. My mind flashes back to when he took his shirt off, and now I remember why I was staring. The rings are wedding bands, most definitely. One smaller than the other; one large enough for a male, the other small enough for a female. Then I wonder if they belonged to his parents. He did mention that his father was deceased. And I ask. “Is your mother still alive, Grayson?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He answers honestly. “She’s alive and kicking, and still living at Coral Grove, running the ranch with my brother, Hawk.”
Well, that negates my idea that the rings belonged to his parents. “So, those wedding bands around your neck, are they your parent’s?”
His hand instinctively goes to his throat, as he unconsciously touches the gold. “No, ma’am, they didn’t belong to my parents.”
“Grandparents?” I venture.
His eyes slide down to my left hand. It’s been a year since I wore my wedding band. Took me many years to take it off.
“I notice that you don’t wear a wedding band. Yet you mentioned a husband earlier.”
That hit a nerve. My eyes divert to the floor.
“Let’s say we leave our wedding band stories for another day, huh.” Grayson suggests. “Maybe a day when there isn’t blood or ambulances or other emergencies of the like.”
I look up at him for a moment. “That’s fair.”
He pinches his lips together into a warm smile. “I figured you’d agree.”
Chapter 6
Laura
Will walks in the door, carrying a toilet. At first, I laugh. He’s carrying it like he’s got to go himself. Like he brought it special for him, to use it personally. “What in heavens name are you doing?” I cackle.
“I’m glad you think it’s funny. Clint’s already diagnosed me with a hernia because of this thing.”
“Well, we have a house full of hands, Will. You see that thing between your nose and your chin? Use it!” I laugh as he sets it down on my living room floor.
“There. That looks like a good place for it.”
I smack him in the arm. “Smartass.” I look at it. Yep, it’s a toilet. “Why did you bring it in here? It’s supposed to go in Louie’s…err…”
Will pats my shoulder, and then rubs my back at my emotional blunder. “He was a good guy. Tough on the pooper, but he was a good guy.”
I look at him, indicating that I’m not impressed by his ill-timed comment.
“Too soon?” he says, knowing full well that it is.
“A tad.”
“Anyway, I brought it in here so the all Lord and Honorable Mighty Queen could inspect it first. God forbid I install it and it doesn’t meet your expectations.”
“I’m sure that you could handle quality control.” I poke.
Will jokingly undoes the zipper on his jeans, making like he’s going to take a leak right now, just as Grayson walks in the front door. I look at Will as Grayson’s eyes slide down to Will’s zipper. “Nice.” I say to Will, with a smirk on my face.
“Err…Laura…ahem.” He clears his throat. “Sorry to interrupt.”
I bark out a laugh. “You didn’t interrupt anything. My cheeseball of a brother is just being a smartass."
Grayson has the grace to chuckle. “I’ve taken the toilet off. It’s ready for the new one anytime.”
Will does his zipper back up. “Thanks, man. You want to help me carry it over?” he scratches his nose. “I was just doing some…quality control there.”
“Sure.” Grayson tips his chin. “You do know that the toilet is in the middle of the living room…and not hooked up, right?”
“Yeah. I was just trying to get a rise out of Laura.”
I go over and smack him.
“No worries, man.” Grayson says. “I have a sister, too.”
“They’re fun to screw with sometimes.”
Grayson lifts a brow. “My sister’s a lawyer. I don’t screw with her.”
Will guffaws a laugh. “No, I suppose not.”
I play the part of the door person as they trolley the toilet over to Grayson’s new quarters. When we arrive in his portion of the cottage, I take a look around. He wasn’t kidding. He has no stuff. A bible and a small pile of paperback thrillers are on the table in the living room, a blanket is on the futon couch, and I see just a pile of clothes on the bed. The closet is open, but the only thing I see is a winter coat hanging on one of the rods. I assume the drawers are full of stuff. There is a lone box on the floor in the closet, but that’s it.
The bathroom has a small toiletry bag hanging off the towel hanger on the side of the sink, and a robe hanging off the back of the door on a hook. As they set the toilet down, I remember that I forgot to tell Grayson a couple of things. “Wendy does laundry for the boys if you’d like her to take care of yours, too. There’s a hamper in the common area, and she comes to collect it every second day. She also cleans if you would like her to keep your area tidy. You just have to make sure that there is nothing on the floor or on any surfaces. But you can also clean your own area if you prefer privacy, and there is a laundromat in town.”
“Okay,” he says simply. “It’s like living in a hotel.”
“Believe me, there is a lot of work to be done around here. And your job entails six days of work per week. The last thing you’ll want to be doing on your day off is laundry and housework.”
Will chimes in. “She never did mine when I lived here.”
“That’s because you needed to learn how to keep house and do your own wash.” I say, pushing him in the chest. “I pity the girl who dates a man who can’t look after himself.”
“Amen to that.” Grayson says. “Did you bring installation materials? Wax gasket? Hacksaw? All the fixings?”
Will is cocky. He opens the lid and the back of the toilet tank. Both are filled with various supplies.
“Alright, let’s get to it.” Grayson says, pleased.
I leave them to install the toilet, while I go do some paperwork and check on the other hands. The horses are happy as they continue to graze in the pasture. Dale, one of my stallions, is missing, but so is Simon, one of my hands, so I assume that he’s out exercising him. As I enter some expense receipts into my accounting software program, I hear one of the company vans pull up. Wendy and Grace disembark, carrying bags full of things. I give them a hand carrying it in and putting things away, and then I take their receipts, and add them to today’s entry.
After making myself a tea, I sit on the porch, taking a break, when I see Grayson and Will come around the corner. “All done?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Grayson tips his head.
“Flushes and everything.” Will says flippantly. “I’m going to head out now. I’ve got a million things to do at the office.”
“I’m sure you do.” I say. “You could have just told me that the toilet was ready. You didn’t have to go get it yourself.” I rise to kiss him goodbye. “I’ll see you later.”
Will salutes Grayson before hopping into his pickup truck and driving off.
“I think Grace is putting dinner together in the kitchen. If you’re hungry, I can get her to fix you a snack.” I offer.
Ned, Edgar and Johnnie disembark. Ned looks a little pale, but otherwise unscathed save for his arm being bandaged up.
“Well, is he going to make it?” Grayson asks.
“Sure is.” Johnnie answers. “He got the artery good, but they sewed him up like new. Both boys know never to touch that pickaxe ever again unless I’m present or another adult is.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” I say to Johnnie, and then I address Ned. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, ma’am. A little woosy.”
“Did they check your red cell counts?” Grayson asks.
“Yeah, they took his blood. He’s fine.” Johnnie answers, as if Ned can’t speak for himself. “Gave him a Tetanus shot, too.”
“I was just going to ask.” Grayson says.
“Gave me and Edgar here one as well. Neither of us have had one before. When the doctor realized where we worked, he insisted.”
“That’s good. Did you see Clint?” I ask, knowing that my brother is on call weekday mornings at the hospital this week, covering for another doctor who is on vacation.”
“Naw, but the doctor who saw Ned asked if we knew him.” Johnnie says. “Ned here’s got to be off for a day or two. He can’t get the wound wet.”
“That’s fine.” I say, waving.
“Did he get dissolvable stitches, or does he have to have them removed?” Grayson asks.
“He’s got to have them out in a week. Appointment’s already been made.” Johnnie answers, throwing me a glance, as if to say, ‘why is this guy asking me so many questions?’
“You boys can go wash up.” I say. “Grace has dinner on the stove.”
“Sounds good, ma’am. Thank you.” Johnnie tips his hat, and the boys walk with their father like they’re a small herd of little ducks.
Grayson removes his hat and scratches his head. “I should probably not ask so many questions.”
“It’s okay. They don’t know that you’re a doctor.” I say, sitting down on the wooden chair. “I don’t suppose you tell too many people that.”
No More Tears Page 5
