Page 9 of Moonshine Lullabies

“You feel anything else in there?” he asked, massaging it some, keeping the pressure on.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Well, the good news is, I don’t think you’ll need a stitch or two after all. Let’s see if I can get the bleeding to stop and what we’re dealing with in a minute or two.”

“Okay,” I said, my head immobilized by his gentle yet firm touch.

“Have you fixed up in no time,” he murmured. Despite my best effort to resist the lulling nature of his smooth and melodic voice, I relaxed marginally.

“Thanks for fixing me up,” I murmured.

“You’re welcome.”

It was the best peace offering he was gonna get from me, but he seemed just fine with it.

CHAPTERFOUR

Collier…

I finished doctoring her up and I could tell she wasn’t alright – but she would be. She was tough, this one. As country as you could make her. There was something about a strong woman that I liked, and Jessie-Lou was a firecracker for sure.

“Gonna help Tate with his room, then I’ll come help with yours,” I told her as I worked to clean up and put away the first-aid kit.

“I can take care of things myself,” she said.

“I’m sure you’re perfectly capable but let me help you, anyway.”

She stopped in the doorway in her ratty robe and thick socks and turned back to me.

“Why?” she asked.

“I’m a helpful guy,” I said back with a shrug.

“What if I don’t want your help?” She raised an eyebrow, and I smiled.

“You really do gotta do everything the hard way, don’t yah?”

She huffed out a frustrated breath and said, “Guess you weren’t listening the first time. The only way is the hard way, every time.”

Seemed to me she was her own worst enemy in that regard, but discretion being the better part of valor or whatever, I deigned to keep my big mouth shut.

She wandered off up the hallway and stopped and exchanged some words with her son. I couldn’t hear what, but then again, it wasn’t none of my business.

I finished throwing out the trash from my doctoring of the side of her head and packed the first-aid kit back up and zipped it closed. I’d been lucky it was a fairly extensive kit.

I went on down to Tate’s room, his mamma gone to her own room by then, and held up the kit.

“Where’s this go again?” I asked.

“Under the bathroom sink,” he replied. He was sitting at his desk, up under his loft bed, a game paused on his computer screen.

I gave a nod and looked around his room, which was all back together.

“You got some plastic or something we can tape over the front door for tonight?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He got up.

“Is it outside?” I asked.

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