Wrong question, Jared could have told her. But he didn’t.
Matt tensed, then glanced at her, his expression blank. “No. Not yet.”
Footsteps sounded, and the redhead—Tori—joined them at the table, taking a seat next to the boy.
“How’d you sleep last night?” Tori asked Granny.
“Only woke up once to use the bathroom,” Granny said. “You were right about that medication.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
It was bad enough that three strangers had infiltrated Granny’s life and home, but it was even worse to have them buttinginto her personal habits.
“Hey, cool,” Joey said, as he pulled his fork out of the gooey middle of his hotcake. “They’re cream-filled.”
“Uh-oh. Sorry about that.” The blond cook snatched away the boy’s plate. “That’s not cream filling, it’s batter. I guess that one needs to be cooked a little more.”
This was crazy. Jared wondered if Sabrina, the bookkeeper, knew how to run an adding machine or if Tori, the maid, knew which end of the broom was up.
He had to talk Granny into selling the ranch and moving in with him, where he could take care of her. Too bad she was every bit as stubborn as she was good-hearted.
A knock sounded at the door. Before waiting to be invited in, the ranch foreman entered the mudroom. “Sorry to interrupt breakfast, but Earl Clancy just split his head wide-open. He’s refusing to go into town and see a doctor, but it looks pretty bad to me.”
“He needs to go anyway,” Sabrina said. “If he’s worried about the cost, worker’s compensation will take care of it.”
Tori scooted her chair away from the table. “I’ll go take a look at the wound. Maybe I can talk Earl into getting it checked.”
“Thanks, ma’am.” Lester turned toward the door and placed his hat back on his head. “I’d sure appreciate that.”
The redhead reached into a cupboard near the refrigerator and pulled out a white metal box with a red cross on the front. Jared wondered if she had first-aid training, suspecting that she might have. Still, that didn’t make her Florence Nightingale.
“You know,” he said, getting to his feet, “I think I’ll go check on the injured man myself. If he needs a doctor, I’ll drive him into town.”
And even if he didn’t, Jared wanted to get the foreman off by himself. Lester Bailey had been working for the Rocking C for almost as long as Jared could remember, and if anyone had a handle on Granny’s mental state, it was him.
“I’ll keep the hotcakes warm for you,” the cook said.
“Thanks, Connie. But don’t bother.” Jared would much rather pick up something to eat in town. As he reached the back door of the mudroom and grabbed his hat, footsteps sounded behind him.
“Wait a minute.”
He turned to see Sabrina heading after him, a plastic container in her arms. “Why don’t you take a couple of cookies with you? Think of them as a hearty bowl of oatmeal-on-the-run, only better.”
Jared, who’d always had a sweet tooth, reached inside and pulled out one of the plumpest cookies he’d ever seen. “Who made these?”
“Connie did.”
The cook?
“She’s a whiz at making sweets and desserts. So I don’t think one will be enough.” She handed him a couple more.
He took the cookies she offered, then watched as she reached into the jar and pulled out one for herself. After taking a bite, she closed her eyes, relishing each chew.
Jared had never known that eating could be so damn sexy. His mind wandered to the vision Sabrina had made last night, wearing that flowing white nightgown and with that veil of hair sluicing over her shoulders and down her back.
Now, as she murmured a “Mmm” in delight, it set off a wave of hunger inside of him. And he wasn’t talking about food.
But under the circumstances, the cookies would be a healthier choice.
Chapter Three
Jared’s talk with the foreman would have to wait until after he’d driven Earl Clancy, the injured ranch hand, into the Brighton Valley Urgent Care Center for stitches.
Not only did Tori seem to have a good handle on first aid, she also had a way of dealing with a tough-asrawhide ranch hand who didn’t want “folks fussin’” over him.
When cajoling the crotchety wrangler into seeking medical help hadn’t worked, she got tough and slapped her hands on her hips. “Earl, don’t be stubborn. That wound is going to get infected if you don’t get it treated.”
Lester eased closer. “Ma’am, I’m afraid they don’t come any more hardheaded than Earl. About five years back, he lost his big toe when he didn’t take care of an ingrown nail.”
“Is that right?” Tori shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Well, listen here, Earl. There’s not a whole lot above the shoulders you’re going to want them to amputate. Now, get into Mr. Clayton’s truck and let him drive you to town.”
Earl grumbled some, but he did as the woman ordered.
“You’ll be back and mending that fence before you know it,” Lester told him.
But in reality, Jared and Earl hadn’t returned until just after lunch. Tori had called it right, though. She’d guessed it would take close to fifteen stitches to close the wound, and Jared had counted sixteen.
As they approached the barn, the truck hit a pothole in the driveway, and Earl rattled off an “Ow,” followed by a few choice swear words. “I told that damn nurse I didn’t need a tetanus shot, but she was as pushy as that redheaded maid. And just to be ornery, I think she hit a nerve in my rump. And now my backside hurts worse than my head.”
Jared parked the truck near the barn, where one of the hands had left Earl’s horse waiting for him, saddled and ready to go.
“You need any help?” he asked the man.
“Heck, no. I’ve had about all the tender lovin’ care I need for the rest of my life.”
Jared watched as Earl climbed onto his mount, wincing as he settled his butt in the saddle. As he rode off, Jared headed for the barn, looking for the foreman. He found him in his office, placing an order for feed and grain.
When Lester hung up the phone, Jared asked, “Got a minute?”
“Sure.” Lester pointed at a green vinyl chair that sat across the desk from him. “Have a seat.”
Jared thought about shutting the door, but decided it was just the two of them. When he sat down, he tossed out the question that had been bothering him since the night before. “How do you think Granny is doing? I’m talking both physically and mentally.”
“All right, I suppose. But she’s getting older, and bodies naturally wear out. I guess you could say she’s slipping a bit.”
“In what way?”
Lester glanced at the open doorway, then back at Jared. “She’s been a little forgetful.”
“Give me an example.”
Lester lifted his battered Stetson, raked a hand through his thick, curly gray hair, then adjusted the hat back on his head. “Can’t say as I remember anything in particular.”
Maybe Doc had been mistaken.
“Then how do