Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 59603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“Him? That’s Mr. Hammet. He comes in and naps while his wife is next door at the hair salon.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, I don’t know what I need, honestly. I hurt my foot doing a lesson.”
“What happened, exactly?”
“I was teaching Jade, of course,” she said, shaking her head. “I was busy saying something to her and not paying attention and got my foot caught on the stirrups. I think it’s just a sprain.”
“Well, let’s get you back in the examination room,” I said. “I want to take a look at it.”
“It’s not that serious,” she began.
“I won’t hear it,” I said. “Do you need a crutch?”
“No, I can hop,” she said, sighing. “Here I go.”
With considerable effort, she got to her feet, with me holding her under the elbow for balance. She hopped into the examination room, and I had to avert my eyes a couple of times when they landed on hers while I was holding her foot. It seemed like whatever was happening in those seconds, she was feeling too. The room felt too hot.
“Why don’t you just wrap it for me?” she asked. “Then I can get back to work. With all I’ve been doing at the ranch, I’m way behind at the office.”
“You’re just going to the office?” I asked.
“I swear,” she said. “I won’t get up from my chair the entire time I’m there.”
“Well,” I said, “I think you probably need an x-ray, but I will wrap it for now. But I want you to promise you won’t put any pressure on it for today and see how you feel tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure,” she said. “Promise.”
With that, I wrapped her ankle, and she slid off the table as soon as it was pinned shut.
“Careful,” I said.
“I will be. Thank you,” she said. “I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it,” I said to her back as she began hobbling away. “See you around.”
“Yup,” she called back without looking over her shoulder.
Then she was out of the door, and the office felt weirdly empty.
13
CARMELA
I absolutely should not have been feeling the things I was feeling while he was examining my ankle. The way he was so gentle as he picked my foot up and touched the sole, pressing softly in various places and asking where it hurt. There was something so intimate about him touching my bare skin. It was intense, and when I felt a shudder go through me and my skin flush, I got out of there as fast as possible.
Unfortunately for me, it hadn’t gotten better just going into the office and keeping it elevated.
Keeping the ankle up on another chair while I sat at my desk in my office and made phone calls only seemed to accomplish the task of making my leg go to sleep. Which, of course, meant that my foot started to tingle, and that added to the pain. It was just one thing after another with it, and by the end of the day, it was hurting way worse.
I was going to need to go to the hospital. Dammit.
I glanced at the clock. It was after seven already. Sighing, I picked up my phone and turned it over in my hands.
My foot was killing me, but I wanted to go home. I just wanted to get to my house and put ice on it and see if I could tough it out. But one second of my heel touching the ground later and I was back to sitting in the chair, wincing and trying to hold back a stream of curse words that would make Quentin Tarantino blush.
“Carmela, what did you do to yourself?” I muttered to the empty room. “He’s going to laugh. He’s going to laugh a lot.”
I was fairly certain I knew how my brother would react, based on years and years of those interactions. He was a caring, gentle man, but he was also a big brother. If he didn’t torture his little sister when she was hobbled in some way, he would break the code of generations of big brothers.
Still, I didn’t have any other choice. I needed someone else to come get me, help me to the car, and take me to the hospital. There was no way I was going to be able to press the pedals.
I clicked the picture of my brother in my contacts and put the phone on the desk on the little holder I had installed for just this purpose.
“Mela, what’s up?” Camden said as he answered. He was in his car, having clearly pulled over on the side of the road. That wasn’t good.
“Hey, Camden, where are you?”
“Buford,” he said. “I told you yesterday I needed to come up here today. Bringing ol’ Bess to the vet.”
“Shit,” I said. I’d forgotten all about that. Bess was one of the older horses and had been having some issues with her stomach in recent years. Usually, the vet was able to make the trip to us, but they had been swamped recently, and Camden decided to bring her in. He wrote it on the schedule by the stable and everything. I just forgot.