Page 10 of Cowboy's Last Stand
“Oops,” London said.
The girl had a friend with her.Natalie didn’t know the friend, but she looked like trouble.She wore a tie-dyed T-shirt, a long hippie skirt, and a vacant expression.Both girls gawked at Jason with raccoon eyes.He nodded politely.
“I didn’t say you could have friends over,” Natalie said.
“You didn’t say I couldn’t,” London replied.
“I said no boys.”
“She’s a girl.”
Natalie sighed and removed some cash from her pocket to pay the babysitting fee.London and her friend left in a hurry.Instead of heading toward London’s house next door, they walked in the opposite direction.Natalie went inside to check on Marcus, who was fast asleep.His curly hair made a dark halo against the pillow.Her heart eased at the sight.
From the kitchen, she gathered bandages, some ice, and a clean washcloth.She grabbed her jacket before she returned to the porch because she was still trembling.The evening had left her nerves on edge.
“That was my babysitter,” she said, taking a seat next to Jason.“Last weekend, she smoked pot in my house.Can you believe that?”
“Yes.”
“She left a joint sitting on the coffee table.”Natalie arranged her supplies.“In my day, we hid the evidence when we smoked weed.We didn’t leave it out for anyone to find.”
He smiled at her rant.“Inyourday?How old are you?”
“Twenty-six,” she said.She hadn’t felt young or carefree since she’d become a mother.And, since Mike had died, the pressure of parenting had doubled.She had no one to talk to about the daily struggles of raising a child.She couldn’t share the burden or the joy.Her aloneness had become a permanent state.Grief had frozen her in place.
She lifted a damp towel to his face.“How old are you?”
“Twenty-nine.”
He didn’t seem young or carefree either, despite his air of equanimity.She dabbed at the cut on his brow, which was still seeping.There was more blood at the corner of his mouth.“Where else does it hurt?”
“My hand.My ribs.”
She cleaned his knuckles, which were scraped raw.Then she gestured for him to lift his shirt.He had a lean, well-muscled physique.His skin was warm and smooth beneath her fingertips.She hadn’t touched a man’s chest in a long time.She had to admit, it felt nice.She palpated his ribs gently.He sucked in a breath of discomfort.
“Maybe you should go to the ER.”
“I’m fine.”
“What if you have a cracked rib?”
“I don’t.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve broken ribs before.These are just bruised.”
“Then why did you let me feel them?”
He gave her a candid look.“I thought I might enjoy it.”
She snatched her hands away, flushing with heat.She doubted he’d derived any pleasure from the contact, even if his ribs weren’t broken.The pressure of her fingertips couldn’t feel good on his bruised flesh.He was just teasing her.Flustered, she searched for a butterfly bandage.She found one and affixed it to his temple.Then she made him a couple of ice packs.He put one on his forehead and the other on his right hand.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She sat in silence for a moment.It started to rain in earnest, pattering on the rooftop.
