Page 12 of Harrison Hyde and the Runaway Bride

“We’re on our way,” Bubba said.

“From where?” She was pinching the eyebrow cut together, deciding whether to apply butterfly bandages in tight formation or stitch it up. She’d have killed for a stitch-stapler but decided to make do with the butterflies.

“We were headed back to the ranch. The uh… reception is happenin’.”

“There was no point in wastin’ all the food,” Drew called.

“We’ll be there in thirty minutes,” Willow said. “Are you safe? Do you think Billy Bob will come back?”

“If he does, he won’t be walkin’ outta here upright, I’ll tell you what,” she said. “Thanks, you guys.” She disconnected, pocketed her phone so she wouldn’t forget it, and moved on to the next cut, this one high on Harry’s cheekbone, opposite side from the eyebrow. His left eye was swollen and a little bit purple. The right one seemed okay. She laid a cold pack over the eye then ran her thumb and forefinger down the side of his nose. He moaned, but the nose didn’t feel broken. She noticed the tiny cut on his nose and the strong, straight shape of it. She liked his nose, and even more, the prominent line of his jaw. He had a strong jawline, softened somewhat by his blue eyes, when they were open. She used a warm cloth to clean more of the salsa from his hair. It was soft beneath her fingers, his hair.

Manuel handed her a T-shirt. She had no idea where he’d got it. Lost and found maybe? She took it, and maneuvered it over Harry’s head then wrangled his arms through and pulled it down over his chest, where her fingers brushed skin, when she straightened the shirt fully. It had a longhorn bull on the front, with words above and below it.

Some of y’all weren’t raised in Texas…

And it shows!

CHAPTER THREE

Harry was still out cold, and Maria was getting worried.

Tires crunched over gravel, and she went to the window. Bubba’s shiny red pickup had pulled in. It had never seen a day’s work, that jacked-up truck. It was flawless, not a hoof-shaped dent or a barbed-wire scratch on it. Bubba got out one side, and Willow the other. The four remaining Brand cousins who’d been riding in the back when the truck had passed them earlier, must’ve stayed behind.

Maria crossed the room and opened the door to greet them. “Thanks for comin’.”

Willow hugged her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, but Harry’s not.” She hugged Bubba in turn and then looked across the room at Harry, still prone atop the bar. “I think we’d better take him to the ER,” she said.

“No. I’m… okay,” said Harry, and he sat up.

They all hurried over there. Harry’s blue eyes were open, the right one was swollen and bruised. “I just need… a bed and some… maybe some uh… pain reliever.”

“We got the bed covered,” Bubba said.

“I have pain reliever!” Manuel went into the back, returned in seconds, and handed Harry three white tablets and a glass of water with a straw.

Harry took the pills, removed the straw, and drank deeply from the glass.

“Ibuprofen?” Maria asked as Harry swallowed.

“Sure,” Manuel said, which made her frown.

“Manuel, what did you just give him?”

“What he said. Pain reliever.”

“I’m gon’ need to see that bottle, Manny.”

He crooked a finger, and she followed him through the doors into the kitchen in back. He opened a cabinet and took out a brown prescription bottle. The label said, Hysingla ER.

“This is hydrocodone.”

“It’s what they gave me when I broke my hip last fall. I never used ’em. See? ‘For pain.’” He pointed at the instructions on the bottle, which said to take as needed for pain to a maximum of two tablets per day. He took the bottle back, turning it to peruse the label. “Oh,” he said. “Uh, did I give him too much?”

“Well, you gave him plenty.” She closed her eyes. “But he won’t be hurting for awhile. Thank you for the help, Manny.”

“Any time, Maria Michele.”

---