he was older and usually standoffish with people he didn’t know. Hayes knew most of the wrestlers by name, which made him Shane’s best friend almost at once. They were trying to talk about their favorites while the movie was on, and Julie kept shushing them. It was amusing to Minette.
They watched the movies, but they were always asking questions. What was that place, who did that, could that happen in real life? It went on and on. He never seemed to mind trying to answer those questions, and he was incredibly patient. Patience was not a word that Minette had ever associated with Hayes Carson. In fact, he was well-known for the opposite.
“Okay, you two, time for bed,” Minette said when the movie finished playing.
“Awwwww,” Shane grumbled.
“Do we have to go now?” Julie protested, clinging to Hayes. “What if Hayes gets sick in the night? Can’t we stay with him?”
Hayes was touched beyond words. He swallowed, hard. “Thanks, Julie,” he said softly, and he smiled.
She grinned at him. “Can you tell us a story?” she asked.
“Yes,” Shane agreed. “We want a story!”
Hayes glanced at Minette, who looked confused and faintly irritated. “I’m sorry, kids,” he said gently, “but most of the stories I know wouldn’t quite suit.”
“Do you shoot bad guys like in the movies?” Shane asked, all eyes.
“Not so much, no,” Hayes replied. “Actually I’m usually the one getting shot,” he added with pursed lips.
“I bet it hurts,” Shane said. “Can’t we see where you got shot?”
“Okay, that’s it, off the bed,” Minette clapped her hands to get them moving.
“I bet it looks awful,” Shane persisted.
“It does,” Hayes said. “And it’s bandaged, you know,” he added, thinking fast. “Dr. Coltrain would be mad at me if I took it off.”
“Good point,” Minette said, looking grateful for his quick thinking. “So that’s that. Bath time.”
“Nooo!” Shane wailed. “I just had a bath yesterday, sis!”
“You’re dirty,” Julie said, wrinkling her nose. “You smell bad, too.”
“Julie,” Minette said, exasperated. “We don’t say things like that, even to family, now do we?”
“No, Minette,” Julie said. She went to her sister and held out her arms. “I’m sorry.”
Minette swept her up and hugged her close, smiling. “It’s okay. But you mustn’t hurt Shane’s feelings. You wouldn’t like it if he said something like that to you. Now would you?”
“No, Minette,” she agreed.
“Aw, she’s a girl,” Shane returned. “Girls are mean.”
“We are not!” Julie said, pouting.
“Baths. Aunt Sarah’s waiting. Julie first.”
“Can I watch wrestling downstairs while Julie bathes?” Shane asked quickly.
“Just for a very few minutes.”
“Okay! Hayes, I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow!” He ran out of the room like a small tornado.
Sarah appeared in the doorway, laughing. “Did Shane escape?” she teased.
“He did,” Minette said. She put Julie down. “Go with Aunt Sarah,” she said gently. “Be good.”
“Yes, Minette.” She peered around Aunt Sarah toward Hayes. “I wish we could stay with you, Hayes,” she sighed.
Hayes looked odd as Sarah swept the child out of the room.
Minette let out a breath. “Two of them.” She shook her head. “Some days I wish there were two of me and two of Aunt Sarah, just to cope. I’m sorry if they bothered you...”
“No.” He said it abruptly, and then smiled sheepishly. “No, they didn’t bother me at all. I like kids.”
She stared at him curiously. “You do?”
He nodded. “They’re great.” He smiled. “Shane’s a walking wrestling fact encyclopedia, and Julie has a big heart, for such a little girl.”
“She really does,” Minette agreed. She moved closer to the bed. He looked ragged. “Pain getting worse?”
He glared at her.
She retrieved a medicine bottle from the bookshelf beside the bed, read the label and shook out two pills. She handed them to Hayes, and pushed his soft drink toward him.
He made a face.
“Copper Coltrain said that your body can’t heal if it has to fight the pain at the same time. I’m sure he told you that, too.”
“He did. I just hate pills.” But he swallowed them, and washed them down with the last of his soft drink.
“We’ll bring supper up in a few minutes. It’s nothing fancy, just leftover roast beef and mashed potatoes.”
He looked as if he’d died and gone to paradise. “Homemade mashed potatoes, again?”
“Well, yes,” she said hesitantly. “They don’t take long to fix and they go good with beef. It’s not fancy,” she repeated.
“To a man who lives on takeout and burned eggs and lethal biscuits, it’s a feast,” he replied. “And you have a gift for cooking potatoes,” he added self-consciously.
“Thank you.” She hadn’t considered that he ate much. But she had heard stories of his cooking. None of them were good. “I guess you’re like me,” she replied, moving a little closer to the bed. “I don’t even have time for lunch. I eat it while I’m writing copy or helping make up the paper.”
“I eat in the car most of the time,” he confessed. “I go out with the guys to the steak place or the Chinese place about one day a month.”
She knew, as most people do, that Hayes could afford to eat out every day if he felt like it. But his deputies couldn’t. He wasn’t going to indulge his own appetite and emphasize the difference in his bank account and theirs by flaunting it. She liked him for that. She liked him for a lot of things. Not only was he the handsomest man she knew, he was the bravest.
“What are you thinking so hard about?” he wondered aloud.
“How brave you are,” she blurted out without thinking and then flushed.
His pale eyebrows arched.
“Sorry, thinking aloud,” she replied. “I’ll get the kids put to bed, then I’ll bring up supper.”
“Minette,”
