The Perfect Gift. Lenora Worth
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obviously his brother since they looked almost identical. “You need to tell her you’re sorry.”
“I thought she did,” the older one revealed, his hands fisting at his sides. “It looked that way.” He didn’t say he was sorry.
“Okay, you two. Enough,” the man interceded in an authoritative voice. “Step aside and give the nice lady some space.”
The boys backed away, their eyes curious and cute.
“I’m so sorry,” Goldie apologized to the man. “I didn’t mean to pass out on your couch.”
“You’re hurt,” he replied, cutting her the same slack he’d just allowed the boy who’d accidentally left the house unlocked. “Just lie still until we can get you some help.”
“How long have I been out?”
“I’m not sure,” the man answered. “We got home about fifteen minutes ago. Do you remember anything else?”
She moved her head in an attempt to nod, but the pain stopped her. “My car hit a patch of ice and went sliding right into a tree. A big tree.”
“Could have been worse,” the man theorized, surveying her. “I think you’re okay except for the bang on your head. Must have hit the steering wheel pretty hard.”
“It’s all fuzzy,” she admitted. Then, in spite of her pain and her odd circumstances landing on his couch, she remembered her manners and said, “I’m Goldie Rios.”
He smiled at that, sending out a radiant warmth that brought Goldie a sense of comfort and security. “I’m Rory Branagan and these are my sons, Tyler and Sam.”
“I’m Tyler,” the little one added, grinning.
Sam didn’t say anything. He seemed downright sad as he stared at her. Sad and a bit distrustful. How could she blame him? He’d come home to find a strange woman bleeding on his furniture.
“It’s good to meet all of you,” Goldie responded. “And thanks for being so kind to me.”
Rory’s soft smile shined again, making Goldie wonder if she might yet be dreaming. This man was a sensitive father. And probably a considerate husband. And for some reason that her hurting brain couldn’t quite figure out, that bothered Goldie. Trying to think, she realized she couldn’t remember much but the accident. Where had she been? And where was she headed?
The sound of a siren broke Rory’s smile and brought Goldie out of her pounding thoughts. He jumped up and went into action while she blinked and closed her eyes. “I think your ride is here.” Then he glanced at his sons. “And so is a patrol car. You’ll need to give the police a report, nothing to worry about.”
Goldie could tell he’d added that last bit for the benefit of his sons, since their eyes grew even wider. The little one showed excitement, but the older boy’s eyes held a dark, brooding anger.
If her head hadn’t hurt so much, Goldie might have been able to figure that one out. And get to know Not-so-fierce Man a little better. She was certainly content to stay right here in the light of that great smile. But she was in pain, no doubt. And although she wasn’t sure if she needed to go to the hospital, she didn’t have much choice. Her car was probably totaled and she was too dizzy to stand up. Then, in a clear and concise image in her mind, she remembered her grandmother.
“I need to let Grammy know,” she noted. “My grandmother.”
“Sure. What’s her number?” Rory replied. “I’ll call her right now.”
Goldie rattled off the numbers, glad her brain was beginning to cooperate. “Her name is Ruth Rios.”
Rory let out a chuckle. “You don’t say? I should have made the connection when you told me your name. I know Miss Ruth. She goes to my church. So you’re her granddaughter?”
Goldie nodded. “I just came here a few weeks ago to help her out. She’s been recovering from hip surgery.”
“Yeah, we heard that and since she hasn’t been to church in a while…I’m sure sorry.” He gave her an apologetic look. “I should have gone by to see her.”
“She’s doing better,” Goldie informed him. “But I know she’s worried since I’m not home yet. I was supposed to be there hours ago.”
“I’ll call her, I promise,” Rory reiterated as the paramedics knocked on the door, followed by one of the three police officers serving Viola.
Goldie nodded, her mind whirling with pain and confusion. “Don’t let her get out in this weather. She doesn’t need to come to the hospital.” After that, she didn’t get much of a chance to say anything else to Rory. She was too busy being examined and questioned, both of which left her tired and even more confused.
The paramedics checked her vitals, asked her all the pertinent questions and concluded yes, she might have a mild concussion. And the officer seemed satisfied that she’d been in a one-car accident and that she hadn’t been drinking. He and Rory both assured her they’d have the car towed. So she was off to the hospital.
“I appreciate your help,” Goldie mumbled to Rory as she was lifted up and hustled onto the waiting gurney.
“Don’t worry about that,” Rory commented, following her stretcher out into the chilly night. “Take care, Goldie.”
“Thanks,” she mumbled again as the ambulance doors shut. She could just make out his image as he talked to the police officer.
But as she lay there with two efficient paramedics fussing over her, Goldie wondered if she’d ever see Rory Branagan again.
Doubtful, since she wouldn’t be staying here in Viola much longer now that Grammy was better. And double doubtful since she didn’t attend church with Grammy.
Or at least, she hadn’t yet.
The next morning, Goldie hung up the phone by her hospital bed to find Rory standing in the door of her room, holding a huge poinsettia in a green pot.
“Uh, hi,” he said, the big red and green plant blocking his face. “The nurse said I could come in.”
Goldie grinned then motioned to him. “Hi, yourself. I just talked to Grammy. She said you were so nice last night, calling her and keeping her informed. And that you wouldn’t let her get out in the weather even to come visit me.”
He lifted his chin in a quick nod. “She was pretty stubborn about doing just that, but I called her neighbor and asked her to sit with your grandmother. Then I contacted the hospital to check on you. Only, they didn’t want to give me any information. So I phoned your grandmother again and explained it to her, since she was your next of kin.” He laughed, took a breath then asked, “So how are you?”
“I’m fine,” Goldie reported, her heart doing an odd little dance as he set down the plant and came closer. “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”
“No trouble. Me and Miss Ruth go back a long way. I once rescued an armadillo out of her backyard.”
“Excuse me?” Goldie reclined against her pillows, taking in his crisp plaid flannel shirt and sturdy jeans. She didn’t think it was possible that he still looked so handsome, even in the glaring morning light, but he did.
“I work for the Department of Wildlife and Fisheries as a nuisance hunter. I get calls to trap wild animals, anything from armadillos and snakes to alligators and even the occasional black bear.”
“You’re kidding?”
He looked downright sheepish. “No, that’s my job.”
“Isn’t that sorta dangerous?”
He grinned again. “Not as dangerous as forcing myself to come to the hospital in an ice storm to check on you. And mind you, it wasn’t the storm that scared me.”