Page 43 of Gotta Dig Deep
“Headache? I’ve got some over-the-counter stuff that’ll help.” She sat on the table next to the glass, reaching into a basket he hadn’t noticed. She came out with a container and shook a couple of tablets into her hand, then offered them to him along with the water.
Two more sweetly satisfying gulps of the water to wash down the pills had her pulling the glass back out of reach.
“I’m Glenna Richeson, and this is Shamu, my noisy protector.”
“Graeme Nass, ma’am.” He gestured to the vest. “My friends call me Horse.”
“My friends just call me Glenna, or pain in the ass, depending on the day.” Her smile was bright, as if a ray of sunshine had speared through the windows and landed on her face. “I’m overly glad you’re awake and coherent, I gotta tell you. It’s been a worrisome bit of time. Not sure if I’d made the right decision to keep you here.”
“So a hospital wasn’t an option?” He’d have expected to wake in an ER, with the blinding overhead lights and constant noise. “It’s a much nicer place to be, that’s for sure, but I hate you went out of your way.”
“It just seemed right.” Glenna rolled her eyes. “I know that sounds crazy, but I can’t explain it better than that.” In an aside, as if to herself, she whispered, “And Lord knows I’ve had to try to tell Cooter multiple times.”
“I appreciate it.” He looked around. “Do you know where my phone is?”
“Oh.” She jumped to her feet and moved out of his view for a moment, then came back and dropped his phone in his lap. “Your jeans were ruined, so I took everything out of your pockets. It’s all just over there.” She pointed and the dog shoved his head under her hand. “Shammy, stop it” was her idle complaint, then she rewarded the dog with ear rubs. “Your shirt wasn’t in much better shape, so that’s why you’re in one of Penn’s.”
“Pen?” The phone was dead, of course. “Do you have a charger?”
“Oh, gosh, yes. I should have thought of that.” She was gone again, the dog pinning him with a glare before he followed her. Another instant later and she leaned over the back of the couch, plucking the phone from his hands. “I’ll need that, sorry.” From not too far away, she called, “And Penn’s my husband.”
Horse smiled and relaxed deeper into the couch. She was a hoot and a conundrum all at once. From what he remembered, she’d ordered him around on the side of the road, supremely confident in her ability to take control of the situation. But now she was flustered at the idea of not charging his phone.
I bet she’s a handful for that husband.
Chapter Twelve
Glenna
Shamu stopped growling, which told Glenna that Graeme had gone back to sleep.
“I don’t know why you don’t like him.” She thumped the dog lovingly on top of his head. “He’s not a threat. I promise you.”
She worked at the counter for a couple of minutes, assembling two sandwiches. One went onto a plate and was covered with clingwrap, and the other she ate standing over the sink, crumbs dropping harmlessly next to the drain.
Before she went outside for chores, the plate and a fresh glass of water were deposited on the coffee table within easy reach of Graeme. She considered leaving him a note about where she was, then stifled a groan. He wouldn’t care that she wasn’t here when he woke up again.
Since she’d gotten a late start, things seemed to take longer than normal as everything that could go wrong, did. Of course. Then she took the time to walk through the stables again, adding to her mental list of what would be needed. Next time she went to town, she’d stop at the bank and talk to them about a loan to cover the startup costs.
“I guess we’re doing this, Shammy. Are you going to be okay with more people around?” Rubbing between his ears as they walked into the kitchen, she shifted and grabbed his collar when Glenna realized Graeme was standing by the sink. “Oh, you’re up.”
“Thanks for the sandwich. I was hungry.” He’d taken the shirt off and knotted it around his waist in a rough kilt, the black leather vest covering his shoulders and back. Graeme gestured at himself. “I wasn’t sure what to do about clothing and didn’t want your husband to be upset at me runnin’ around in just my tighty whities.”
“Oh.” Pain socked her in the chest, knocking all the air from her body. “Penn can’t—I mean he wouldn’t have.” She struggled to breathe. “He’s not going to—”
“Hey.” An arm rounded her shoulders, guiding her to sit in one of the chairs around the table. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
Shaking her head, Glenna dipped her chin to her throat, trying to find the words. “Penn died a few years ago.”
“Oh, Jesus. Glenna, I’m sorry.” Graeme tried to squat next to her and groaned with pain, finally dropping to one knee. “I didn’t know.” His hands covered both of hers, holding tight. “I’m so sorry.”
“You couldn’t have known.” Glenna shook her head again, blinking tears away. “Let me get you a pair of sweats or something. I didn’t think about that. I’m the one who should be sorry.”
She pushed to her feet and looked down into Graeme’s face, his clear anguish at hurting her salving her emotions somewhat. Glenna extended a hand, and he grasped it, letting her guide him to a standing position. “You go back to the couch. I’ll be in there in a minute.” She realized Shamu was silent and looked around for him. “Where’d Shammy go? I wanted to introduce you two properly, so he’d stop growling at you.”
“Not sure, but he and I get along well enough. I’ll be out of your hair soon as I can call one of my brothers.”
“The phone should be charged enough now.” Opening the drawer Penn had rigged up for their devices, she pulled Graeme’s out and handed it to him. He went through the process of booting it up and smiled when it gave the welcome screen. “Make your calls. I’ll go get you some clothes.” She dipped her head. “I do appreciate your efforts to not make things awkward. It’s a nice gesture.”
