Love You to Death (17 page)

Sissy was talking to me, but I couldn’t
understand a word she was saying. I tried to tell her to shut up
and leave me alone for five freakin’ minutes, but I was too tired
to open my mouth.

I had the sensation of being lifted;
weightless, like I was flying. Then I was outside. The sun was
shooting its heat all around me.

A cacophony of voices erupted. I wasn’t
flying anymore, chilled air instead of heat. I was cold, shivering.
I managed to open my eyes. Gideon’s face hovered over me. His warm
brown eyes were filled with concern. His lips were moving, but
nothing came out. It looked funny. I smiled at him. He frowned. I
closed my eyes and fell into silence.

* * * *

The room was dark. I could tell I was back in
my room because I could smell the heady aroma of the roses. A
sliver of light from the hallway cut a line through the
blackness.

“You said she was fine,” I heard Sissy
say.

“She is, but you can’t overexert her. She’s
been shot, Maw-Maw!” Gideon railed. It didn’t seem like him to
raise his voice.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, boy.”
Sissy was getting riled up.

“I’m sorry, Maw-Maw, but you could’ve really
hurt her. She tore her stitches and lost some blood.”

“Did I know that?” Sissy argued. “The girl’s
spunky, but I swear she’s afraid of her own shadow.”

“I know,” he whispered.

“That girl’s got a story. Something awful
happened to her. I can see it in her eyes. Full of grief... and
scared too.”

“I know,” Gideon repeated.

“They ain’t goin’ anywhere til we find out
what’s goin’ on here.” Sissy’s voice was unyielding. “The boy too.
He says he’s an orphan and Cherry takes care of him. I swear...if
half the stories he tells are true, that girl in there deserves a
medal. We might have to keep her.”

“She might not like that.” I heard the smile
in his voice. “She’s the independent type.”

“Well, she’d be the stupid independent type
if she leaves before she’s healed. She’s a baby...the two of them
livin’ in the gutters...No sir. I’ll get my twelve gauge and shoot
her in the leg. Let’s see her walk out then.”

I shuddered. The old lady would shoot me. I
know she would, the crazy old bitty.

“Calm down, Maw-Maw. No one is shootin’
anyone. Now go down stairs and make sure Cort ain’t burnin’ the
house down making those frozen pizzas in the wood stove.”

The door eased open enough for Gideon to
enter the room. I watched his silhouette tiptoe to the winged chair
by the window. He slipped his large frame into the narrow seat,
stretching out his long legs, and crossing them at the ankles.

“Am I dead?” I asked in a hoarse whisper.

“No. But you sound like you’re spittin’
dust.” He got up, came to the night stand, and turned on the lamp.
The soft light made me squint. From a pitcher on a silver tray, he
poured water into a glass. I noticed a bowl of soup and a sandwich
too.

“You slept through dinner.” He handed me the
water. “I’d think it was on purpose if I hadn’t treated you
myself.”

“What happened?” I asked between gulps.

“You were being manhandled by a seventy year
old.”

“I hate it when that happens,” I joked.
Gideon cracked a smile.

“How’re you feelin’?”

“Like I’ve been run over by the light rail.”
I gave him the empty glass then used my good arm to hoist myself
upright. I was wearing a cotton nightgown that didn’t belong to
me.

“Who dressed me?” I asked.

“Maw-Maw, don’t worry,” he said, realizing I
was doing just that. “I don’t take advantage of unconscious
girls.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay.” He pulled the chair close to the
bed.

“JD gave me some Percocet for you.” He
pointed to the medicine bottle on the tray. “Want one?”

“Yes, please.” I was ready to let him give me
horse drugs, anything to ease this nonstop-aching throb.

“That’s what I like, an eager patient.” He
opened the bottle, shook out a pill, and handed it to me with more
water. “I want bed rest for the next few days. No more marathon
shopping with Maw-Maw.”

I opened my mouth to protest

“No arguments,” he added.

“What about our deal?”

“We’ll worry about that later.”

“What about Stewie?” He couldn’t be left to
fend for himself.

“Stewie’s fine. He’s a bright kid. He takes
instruction very well, and Cort put him charge of taking care of
the cats.”

“Great, just what he needs, emotional
attachment to those kittens. I’m going to strangle your brother,” I
groaned.

Gideon smiled like he knew exactly how I
felt. “When you get all better, Wonder Woman, we’ll even sell
tickets. But for now...” He picked up the tray, “I’ll go heat your
soup. Maw-Maw left a stack of magazines for you.” He jerked his
chin to the nightstand.

“Thanks,” I said, but he was already gone.
Twenty minutes later he was back with my hot soup and fresh
sandwich. He set the tray over my lap and took the seat beside the
bed. I took a bite of the sandwich, chicken salad. Nothing fussy,
but it was good.

I felt Gideon’s eyes on me, full of questions
and curiosity. I did my best to ignore him. I blew on a spoonful of
soup, tentatively slurping in case it was homemade. Thank God it
wasn’t. Good old Campbell’s chicken noodle. Warm broth trickled
down my throat, heating a path into my stomach.

I was hungrier than I thought. I ate like a
starving refugee. While I devoured the sandwich, my mind shuffled
ideas in my head like a deck of cards. I cursed my lame arm for
keeping me in bed when I should be looking for a way to get us
farther away.

I finished everything, not leaving a single
crumb behind. Gideon took the tray and stood up. He didn’t make any
move to leave. I looked at him, waiting for him to say something.
His eyes were curiously tender.

“I want you to know you’re safe here,” he
said.

I nodded. What else could I do?

“I don’t want you thinking of anything but
getting better because until you are, you’re only gonna make it
harder on yourself.”

“I have some money—”

“I told you, we don’t need your money.” He
cut me off.

“And I told you I don’t like mooching,” I
snapped back.

“That’s why we decided to trade. So, you get
all better and then you can earn your keep like Stewie.” He flashed
a quick, firm smile and bid me goodnight.

I want you to know you’re safe here.

I replayed those words in my head as I
flipped through the magazines Sissy had left.

Safe. That was an unfamiliar state of being
for me.

Baltimore was five hundred miles away. Cass
had no idea where we were. So why didn’t I feel a hundred percent
in the clear?

Maybe it was because I’d been living in fear
for the last year. Maybe my sense of preservation ran so deep that
it would take a time to get rid of it,
if
I could get rid of
it. After all, I’d had some sort of danger in my life since
birth.

I closed the magazine and turned off the
lamp. Strange sounds invaded through the open window. I imagined
blood sucking insects, ravenous attack birds, probably some
maniacal crickets, and who knew what else was out there. I closed
my eyes, trying to shut out the unfamiliar sounds with a silent
prayer.

I’m safe...I’m safe...I’m safe...

Chapter
Seventeen

Two days under house arrest was more than
enough for me. The summer heat had invaded, leaving a sticky humid
trail everywhere. I was grateful for the borrowed clothes Sissy
rounded up for me. Especially the designer shorts. I was hoping to
find Stewie and talk over a few points of action I’d come up
with.

The sound of a low seductive bass thumped
from the barn that housed the vet’s office. Curiosity got the
better of me, and I made a bee line for the source. Surprisingly
enough it was coming from Gideon’s operating room.

I opened the door slowly, poking my head in
to see if anyone was inside. I immediately recognized the music.
Michael Bublé was crooning about fever. I crossed the small room
that was used as a waiting area to stand in the open doorway
leading into the surgical room. What I saw shocked me, but more
than that, it made my lips curl in a lazy appreciative smile.

Gideon was singing along with Michael while
he gently rubbed some sort of salve over a large horse’s rump. He
had a nice voice, which I already knew, but his soothing tone
turned sultry, blending in with Michael’s.

It was fun to watch him as he went from
doctoring the horse to serenading it. Then the horse noticed me,
cocked its head, and snorted like it wasn’t very happy to have me
there invading the moment.

Gideon glanced over his shoulder, “Hey JD—”
He caught himself, and for once,
I
wasn’t the one blushing.
“Sorry.” He said twisting around to face me. “I thought you were
JD.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I felt
guilty for not announcing myself. “I heard the music.”

“Ah, yeah, Sampson here likes jazz, keeps him
calm while I check his stitches,” Gideon explained.

“So the whole theory about music calming the
savage beast is true?” I tried to sound serious.

“For the most part.” Gideon chuckled.

“What’s wrong with him?” I nodded toward the
big horse.

“He got a little too frisky with Lola, and
she bit him.”

“Another horse bit him?”

“Not just any horse. Lola is our resident
drama queen. She’s Sissy’s horse, if that helps explain it.”

I laughed. That did explain it.

“Yeah, thought so. Both are old, set in their
ways, and cantankerous.” He turned to Sampson. “Aren’t they boy?
Learned a lesson, didn’t ya?” He gave the horse an affectionate
pat.

“What does Lola listen to?” I asked, taking a
step into the considerably oversized room. There was a high-vaulted
ceiling and a set of double barn doors that were opened up,
revealing the fenced-in corral. A few oversized sterile tables,
operating stations, and lots of medical equipment lined the walls.
It looked like a well-organized ER for people, except everything
was bigger.

“Depends on her mood.” Gideon peeled off his
surgical gloves. “Mostly though, she likes Tom Jones. That’s the
voice that calms her the quickest.”

I nodded. Tom Jones, Maw-Maw and Lola, that
made sense. Sampson snorted again.

“Yeah, yeah, I didn’t forget,” Gideon assured
the horse. He wiped his hands on a rag and walked over to a pouch
hanging on a peg and reached in.

“Ya wanna give him his treat?” he asked me,
waving a carrot.

“Uh, I dunno... I’ve never been around horses
before.” They scared me and I’d heard that like dogs, horses could
smell fear. I didn’t know if this was true, but I wasn’t sure I
wanted to test the theory.

“He’s a softy,” Gideon assured me. He ambled
my way and handed me the carrot. Holding my hand in his, he urged
me forward until I was face to face with Sampson. “Don’t be scared.
He’s just going to smell you first.” The horse snorted.

“Now slowly raise the carrot to his mouth,”
Gideon instructed.

I did what he said. Sampson hesitated then
opened his big horse mouth and grabbed the carrot with his big
horse teeth. I stifled a scream.

“That’s it. Good...” Gideon soothed in that
quiet way he had. I didn’t know if it was for me or the horse.
Probably both. It only took a minute for the horse to eat the
carrot and a few more for my hand to stop shaking.

“All done. You did good,” he said to me.

I felt pretty proud of myself. I reached out
and lightly touched Sampson’s nose.

“I think you made a friend,” Gideon said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, Sampson is a real ladies man. I
figured you were safe.” Gideon took the reins and led Sampson out
of the hospital and back to the stable. I followed him. When we
were three stalls from the main entrance, a graying white horse
whinnied and stretched its neck out over the stall door, coming a
scant few inches from my face. I squealed and jumped behind
Gideon.

“Careful, that’s Lola. She wasn’t tryin’ to
nip you. It’s Sampson she wants.” He patted my arm the same way he
did Sampson then said to the hostile horse, “Lola, behave
yourself.”

Yeah, Lola, back off, or I’ll call the glue
factory.

“Great timing,” a voice came out of nowhere,
“I could use some help in here.”

We both turned to look behind us. Maggie
stood a few feet away, a shovel propped in her hand. Her pretty
blue eyes narrowed and focused on me like a cocked and ready
pistol.

“Cherry isn’t here to help you,” Gideon said
as he led Sampson into a stall. “She doesn’t know anything about
horses.”

“You don’t have to know about horses to
shovel their crap,” Maggie snapped.

Gideon gave her a measured look. I could tell
it was a ‘watch your step’ warning. I wouldn’t mind helping with
the horses, but it wouldn’t be possible with my arm still in a
sling. Well, that and I wasn’t really inclined to help this girl
who had anger issues that seemed to be centered on me.

“Fine.” She flashed daggers at me and spun
around, huffing out of the barn.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” Gideon smiled
apologetically. “She’s a live wire, our Maggie.”

“I think she’d like to string me up in one of
these stalls.”

Gideon laughed. “Yeah, well, she just might
at that. It’s hard to tell what she’ll do most days.” At my
startled look he laughed again. “Don’t worry, she’s harmless,
mostly just a lot of lip service.”

Yeah, right. If there was one thing every
girl knows it’s the signs of jealousy in another girl. Maggie
thought I was moving in on her territory. I glanced at Gideon. He
was busy writing on a clipboard full of papers that hung beside
Sampson’s stall.