Page 8 of Two Risks I'd Never Take Again

“Garrett?” When he tapped once, I grinned. “Yay! It’s nice to meet you Garrett who likes my pecan praline doughnuts. One T or two at the end?”

He gave the signal, and I filled out his form one handed.

“I hope your last name is short. Should I start at A?”

His head moved back and forth as he double tapped.

“I think you just want to see if I can say the alphabet backward.” I wouldn’t do well if I were ever pulled over for drunk driving because I could barely handle backward ABCs sober. “Z... Y... X... W...”

After he signaled, I moved onto the next letter. We continued the game until I’d filled in Garrett Wright. I stared at the name. Where had I heard that name?

He shifted his head to look at me. His eyes were blue. I could tell now that the swelling had gone down a bit. Blue eyes. With my eyes closed, I thought back to that day in the doughnut shop when he’d asked me out. He’d seemed familiar then even though I’d never met him. He reminded me of someone.

Garrett brushed his thumb on my hand.

“Sorry. I was trying to figure out why you seem familiar.”

His mouth moved, but his words were soft.

I stood and leaned over the bed. “What?”

“Beau Henry.”

Hovering inches over Garrett, I stared at him. “You’re Beau’s son.”

His brace bumped my shoulder. Only once. Everyone in town knew Beau Henry.

“I should call him. Eli will know how to get a hold of him.”

Garrett shook his head and tapped my shoulder twice.

“All right. We’ll just go back to filling out this form. If you feel up to whispering, it might go faster.”

“Yes.” His face twitched like he was trying to smile.

When Garrett had shown up in town just over a year ago, Beau’s secret son was gossiped about a lot. From everything I knew, Beau and his family were good and kind. Why wouldn’t Garrett want them to know about what happened?

In two hours, I was supposed to start making doughnuts. I was beginning to question if I’d make it there on time.

Once I had the form filled out and delivered to the nurses, I sat in the chair by Garrett’s bed. “Where are your clothes?”

He pointed to a bag at the foot of his bed.

I pulled out his shirt and jeans, hoping I could clean them up enough for him to at least make it home. His shirt was cut down the middle. He wouldn’t be wearing that again. His jeans were caked with mud.

“You keep acting like you want to leave, but you don’t have anything to wear. Unless you want to walk out of here in boots and a hospital gown.” I glanced at the sheet. “And whatever’s under that sheet.”

He motioned me closer. “If you go to the store, I’ll pay you back.” Slowly, his voice was regaining strength, but I didn’t want him to overdo it.

“I would go to the store except it’s one in the morning, and nothing is open. A little creativity is required.”

“My house.”

“I don’t mind taking you to your house, but what are you going to wear on the way? Because like that you’d be cold, and I’d have trouble focusing on the road.” Gosh, I was tired. “I didn’t mean to say that last part out loud.”

He rested the brace on my hand. “You go while people are asleep.”

“I amnotgoing to sneak into a house where people are sleeping. I’ll get shot!”

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