Randall.” Okay, at least she knew his last name. “Um, I’m his fiancée,” she hurriedly added, afraid she would be thrown out if she wasn’t related to him.
“I see. Does he have any family here?”
Sam hoped she was doing the right thing. “No, none. We were here with the rodeo. He’s a bull rider.”
“Not a great career choice,” the doctor said, sounding like he thought the man was an idiot.
She hadn’t thought the cowboy was brilliant, either, but for some reason, she felt compelled to defend him. “He’s very good!”
“Well, it will be a while before he gets up on another bull.”
“How long?” She knew Mr. Randall would want that question answered.
“Just a minute and I can tell you.” The doctor turned his back on her and took a large envelope from the foot of the bed. He removed the negatives and put them on a lighted background. “Hmm, he got lucky. It’s a clean break.”
“So he can leave right away?”
“No. Because he walked on the ankle, the swelling is particularly bad. We’re not going to put a cast on until the swelling goes down.”
“How long?” Sam asked, feeling more concerned than she should have.
“A day or two. He’ll need to keep the cast on for six weeks, probably. Then he’ll be good as new. You worried?” the doctor asked.
“A little.”
The patient groaned. Sam bent over him, brushing back the dark hair that had fallen across his forehead. “You okay, cowboy?”
“It hurts,” he whispered.
Sam looked up at the doctor. “Can’t you give him something more for the pain?”
The doctor gave an order to the nurse and she hurried out of the room. “She’ll be back in a minute with something to put him to sleep. He should stay asleep until morning.”
“Thank you,” she said, turning back to the patient. This was an unusual situation for Samantha. She had no family, no close friends. She’d never accompanied anyone to the hospital before. She hoped she never had to do so again.
“Do you need a ride home? Or a place to stay?” the doctor asked.
“No, but thank you for asking.”
When the nurse returned, the cowboy barely opened his eyes to take the medication. Sam patted his arm and said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Then she slipped out of his room.
IT WAS ALMOST ten when Sam left the hospital. She drove by a fast-food place and got a hamburger to take home for dinner. “Home” was a room she rented from an elderly lady one block from the diner. However, before pulling up to her building, she drove past slowly, looking at the vehicles parked on the street.
As she’d feared, Brad’s truck was parked right in front of Mrs. Walley’s old house. Damn! He was waiting for her.
At least he didn’t know she was driving the cowboy’s truck. Tomorrow he’d go to the diner and she’d be able to slip into her room and gather her belongings. Thankfully, she traveled light.
She didn’t have enough money with her to get a hotel room. Her savings were hidden in her room.
For tonight, she’d have to make do in the cab of the truck. She’d slept in worse places.
She drove to a nearby shopping center and stopped in the back of the parking lot. She made sure the doors were locked, put on her sweater and curled up on the truck bench seat. Thank goodness the cowboy didn’t have bucket seats.
She awoke when the sun came up the next morning, a little sore from her constricted bed. There was a doughnut shop in the strip mall and she bought herself some breakfast.
She returned to the truck and started it up, praying Brad had left. But his car, a beat-up Chevrolet, was still guarding her room. She knew he was thinking she spent the night with the cowboy, which meant his anger was growing. She shielded her face with her hand and drove on by, then returned to her earlier parking space at the shopping center.
Knowing she was in for a long day, Sam went into the large economy store, bought herself a snack and a paperback book. She couldn’t risk driving by her building too many times fearing Brad might notice the truck.
If Larry, his only cook, was handling breakfast, Brad would have to go in for the lunch crowd. So she’d have to stay hidden until eleven this morning. Then she could get to her stuff.
At eleven-fifteen, she parked the truck outside her room and hurried up the sidewalk. Mrs. Walley, her landlady, met her at the front door.
“Dear, you had a young man come calling last night.”
Samantha shook her head, hiding a smile. The old lady was a complete romantic. No one else would describe Brad as a “young man.” “What did he say?”
“He wanted to talk to you.” Mrs. Walley peeked out the hall window. “I think he waited all night. He knocked on the door this morning and asked for you again, but I told him you hadn’t come home. I don’t think he was very happy.”
“Mrs. Walley, I’m moving out today. Since I’m paid until the end of the month, you’ll have some time to find another renter without losing money.”
“Oh, dear, no! I’ve so enjoyed your being here. Must you go?”
“Yes, I must.”
“What shall I tell that young man? Or will you talk to him?”
“No, I won’t. Tell him I’ve gone to California.” She gave the woman a brief hug and entered the place she’d called home for a little over a month. After checking out the window to make sure Brad hadn’t come back, she took a quick shower and washed her hair.
Packing took about ten minutes. All her belongings fit in a duffel bag. She had to be ruthless with herself about what she kept. She couldn’t afford to weight herself down with sentimental junk. A couple of changes of clothes, her toiletries, one towel. She used a spare T-shirt as her nightgown. Wearing her only pair of shoes, some athletic lace-ups, completed her sparse wardrobe.
She slipped out without talking to Mrs. Walley again and headed for the hospital. She suspected the cowboy was going to be annoyed that she hadn’t stopped by first thing this morning. It had just been more convenient to pick up her belongings first. And she had to wait for Brad to give up.
It tickled her to drive by The Hot Skillet without Brad having any idea she was out there. The man was a bully. She felt sorry for the other waitresses who worked there and so very relieved she was no longer one of them.
THE PAIN greeted him as he swam to consciousness. Rich opened his eyes and recognized his hospital surroundings. He remembered his hardheadedness, his refusal to admit he was hurt to his so-called friends. The waitress who’d taken pity on him.
He looked
