Page 42 of Gotta Dig Deep
“Yeah.” She angled around him and climbed into the truck, jamming the key home on the first try and gritting her teeth as the engine rattled to life. “No worries.”
***
Horse
Head pounding, Horse eased his eyes open and looked around the room. It hadn’t changed since he’d last surfaced from unconsciousness. Bright with sunshine, the room was filled with ample light through the tall windows that spanned a long wall that looked out over a bunch of cows.
He felt more alert this time and hoped that would translate to a longer period of wakefulness. He still didn’t know where he was or what had happened after the bike had gone through the fence. There were flashes of memories that didn’t make sense, just a mess of sensations more than anything else.
Undisputable was that this was someone’s home, not a hospital room. It wasn’t a house he could identify, either, which had him wondering about what had really happened to him.
What do I know for sure?
The sutured wound in his leg looked to be healing well, which meant he’d been out for at least a day. The couch he was lying on was good quality, and his leg was propped on a pile of pillows that smelled of sunshine and flowers. He was in just his skivvies and a shirt he didn’t recognize, which meant his clothes were damaged or removed for treatment maybe. They didn’t matter, and he could see the only thing he’d really worry about lying folded on the arm of the couch, the nearby black leather of his vest a comfort.
So, not very damn much.
A growl from across the room pulled his attention to the doorway where a large black-and-white animal stood. Was it a dog? Lean lines spoke of tuned musculature, but the only hair he could see was on top of the dog’s head, where the thin, black fur standing on end like a mohawk.I think it’s a dog.
“Hey, dog.” His voice was rough, cracking and broken. “You a good boy?”
The dog’s lip lifted as if in answer, the growl growing more guttural.
“Well, I’m not goin’ anywhere anytime soon, boy. Sorry to disappoint.”
With a sharp bark, the dog turned and disappeared.
“Shush, Shamu. You’ll wake our guest.”
The woman’s voice rattled his memories a bit, and he thought she might have been in his dreams earlier.
“Oh, you’re awake.” Horse turned his head and focused on the figure standing in the doorway. Hair a mass of curls framing her pixie face, the diminutive woman stood firmly on both feet as if to weather a storm. “How you feelin’ today?”
“Okay, I think. Where am I?”
“My house just outside of Belle. You were in a motorcycle wreck.”
“I remember the wreck. Sucked. The loose gravel got me.”
He cleared his throat roughly and she startled into movement, disappearing for an instant before coming back into the room at a fast pace. In her hand was a glass with a straw, and when she leaned over to offer it, Horse didn’t try to take it, simply opening his mouth in mute acceptance.
With a tiny smile, she bent farther, bringing the straw to his lips.
The first sip was heaven, and Horse found himself gulping huge swallows, making a discontented sound when she removed the glass from his reach.
“Slower is better, trust me.”
“I’m sore all over.”
“It looked like you had quite the ride.” She placed the glass on a nearby table and moved the blanket, unsticking the bandage over the hole in his leg with a deft movement. “You’re healing well and haven’t had a temperature. I think you avoided the worst of it.” She patted the blanket as she recovered him and Horse shot his hand out, capturing hers.
The dog was there in an instant, lips lifted, that ever-present growl rolling out of him.
Horse released his hold and she smiled, shifting so her hand covered his. “Shush, Shamu. I keep telling you, this man isn’t a danger to me.” Arching an eyebrow at him, she asked, “Are you?”
“No, ma’am, I am not.”
Shaking his head ratcheted up his headache and he must have winced because her hand appeared on his brow, cool and gentle as she dragged her palm and fingers across his forehead.
