Page 33 of Breathless
He did and luckily, she caught it.
“I’m hooking up the heating pad for you on the sofa, then I’m really gone unless you need something else,” he said after he closed the door back again.
“I think I’m good,” she replied. “Thank you. And sorry for having to ask.”
“I’ve had to make runs to the store for those before. I’ve got a mom and sister, and they made Rafferty and me go get them on purpose so we wouldn’t be embarrassed by it.”
“Your mom sounds like an awesome woman,” Chaney said.
“She is. You’ll like her I’m sure,” he said. “Gotta run.”
I’ll like her?
What was that supposed to mean? Chaney wasn’t sure how to take his comment and she sure didn’t want to read more into it than him saying she’d like his mother if she met her. Not that he was saying she was going to meet her. She sure didn’t think he meant that at all.
She took care of her business and stowed the box under the sink before hobbling back out to the sofa where he’d left the heating pad plugged up for her to use. If he only knew how painful the first days of her periods were, he’d know how much she appreciated having this heating pad to put to her back. She settled on the sofa and finished eating her lunch before she was disturbed by her cellphone ringing.
“Good gravy,” she muttered. It was her mother. She plastered a smile on her face before she answered the call. “Hello, mom. What a surprise.”
“Chaney, dear. We hadn’t heard from you, and it had been over a week so we thought we should call to check on you,” her mother said.
“Sorry. I’ve been very busy. Was I supposed to call you?” Chaney said.
“Yes. Your father gave you a time frame to respond,” her mother said. “And what have you been so busy with?”
“I got a job,” Chaney said.
“A what!” Her mother, gasping for air as she was hyperventilating, came across the phone.
“You heard me. I got a J-O-B. Job. It’s where you work for a living. I have to be able to afford food and tuition if you aren’t going to support me any longer,” Chaney said. “Two can play at your game, Mother.”
“Webster!” Her mother yelled her father’s name into the phone and almost busted her eardrum in the process. The sound of her mother’s heels clicking across the marble floor as she rushed to her father’s study was evident across the phone line.
The fact that Chaney wasn’t getting paid, and she was only a volunteer were not facts that she was going to share with her parents. As long as they thought she was supporting herself it would drive them crazy. It was apparent it had put her mother into a tailspin. She couldn’t reach her father’s side fast enough to tell him what Chaney had done.
“Calm yourself, Mother. You’ll hurt yourself if you don’t,” Chaney warned.
“We never expected you to get a J– Oh, Webster, it’s deplorable,” her mother cried.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Murmured whispers came over the line before her father cleared his throat and took the phone from her mother.
“Chaney, what is the meaning of this? You can’t possibly have gotten a job. Who in their right mind would hire a girl with no experience.”
“Well, dad, they do things differently in Colorado,” Chaney said. “If there is nothing else, I need to go. I have lots to do. It is my day off.”
And with that she ended the call. She thought it would make her feel good to do that to them, but it didn’t. Instead, she felt sad. She’d lied. She didn’t do that to her parents. She might not like how they did things and she’d come all this way to Colorado to get away from them, but she didn’t lie. She didn’t have a job that paid her a wage. In fact, she was in debt because she still had no way to pay for her hospital stay.
Sinking down on the sofa, she pulled the heating pad from behind her and turned it off for now. Then plumped her pillow and tried to go to sleep. But she wasn’t comforted. She felt bad and tears streamed down her cheeks, soaking the pillow. She cried until she couldn’t and then she fell asleep.
Rawlins arrivedat The Village at the same time a tan F150 crew cab truck with Wyoming plates did and suspected that this was the Brotherhood Protectors team that Hank Patterson had sent. He parked his F5 in a staff spot and went to where the men were getting out. All were relatively tall from six four to six feet in height with salt and pepper hair, brown black hair, to blond. There was no doubt in his mind that the latter was Swede.
“Welcome guys,” Rawlins said. “I’m so glad you are here.”
“You must be Rawlins?” the shorter of the trio said. “I’m Taz.”
“I’m Viper,” the taller of the men said.
