Page 26 of Driving Whiskey Wild
“Thanks, Cindy. Burn that paper, will you?” With a stuffed bear at her back, he guided Finlay down the hall.
“Bullet, you were mentioned in the paper. That’s huge, and it’s obviously why so many people were staring at you in the lobby. I know you don’t like to hear it, but you should be proud of how you helped those people.”
“It’s the media trying to sell papers. It’s bullshit. I’m not what matters in that equation.” He eyed her as they approached the little boy’s room.
“Well, I still think it’s a very big deal, and I’m proud of you.” She went for levity. “Brandon.”
He scowled as he reached for the door.
Little Bradley Beckley looked up from his hospital bed, his tiny body made even smaller by the stark-white sheets surrounding him. He had a bandage on the left side of his forehead and bruises on his neck. Sarah, his mother, had long sandy-colored hair, scared brown eyes underscored with dark crescents, and a tiny bruise on her cheek. She sat on the edge of the bed, fidgeting with a plastic dinosaur.
“Bullet,” she said, slowly rising to her feet.
Only then did Finlay realize she was pregnant. Her fingers slipped from Bullet’s arm as he moved closer to the bed. Recognition rose in the sweet little boy’s eyes.
“Sarah, I hope it’s okay that I came by,” he said in a rough voice, which Finlay knew was another mask for his emotions. He glanced at her and said, “This is my girl, Finlay.”
His girl. Was it wrong for Finlay to melt at that when there was so much pain around them? She tucked those tender feelings away for now.
Sarah smiled with tears in her eyes. “I’m glad you’re both here.”
“I know you,” Bradley said in a scratchy voice. “You saved my baby sister and my uncle.”
“He saved us all,” Sarah said.
Bullet’s gaze rolled over the little boy, his chest expanding with the long inhalation. This was hard for all of them, including Finlay, as she bore witness to the emotion in Sarah’s and her son’s eyes and rolling off Bullet in waves. She noticed that Sarah wasn’t wearing a wedding band and wondered where the children’s father was. But she knew better than to ask.
Bullet set the bear with the blue ribbon by the little boy’s legs. “Hey, Buddy. How’s my brave boy?”
Bradley stuck his thumb up in the air and smiled, earning a sigh of relief from Bullet.
“Is that bear for me? And the pink one for Sissy?”
“It sure is. You heal up and get better, you hear?”
Bradley reached for the bear, and Bullet tucked it beside him. The happy boy wrapped his arms around it, grinning from ear to ear, and pointed to the box Finlay had forgotten she was holding. “What’s that? For Mommy?”
“Yes. Just a few goodies,” Finlay said as Sarah came around the bed. She handed her the box of treats, feeling like it was the most insignificant thing in the world and wishing she had thought to bring a meal or something more meaningful. “I am so sorry for what your family is going through. The nurses said you hadn’t eaten much. I’d be happy to go down to the cafeteria and get you something.”
“You’re too sweet. Thank you, but I have so many food allergies I’m afraid to eat here.”
“Mommy’s allergic to everything,” Bradley said. “Milk, eggs, peanuts…”
Finlay eyed the box of goodies, mentally ticking off all the potential allergens in it. “I would hate for you to eat those treats and have a reaction. Why don’t I take them out to the nurses’ station and bring you something you can eat instead,” Finlay offered. “What else are you allergic to?”
“You don’t have to do that for me.” Sarah put her hand on her belly and said, “I’ve been drinking protein drinks. That helps.”
“Please,” Finlay said. “I’d like to help, and your baby needs more than protein drinks.”
Bullet set the other teddy bear on a chair and put an arm around Finlay. “She’s right, Sarah. You need your strength, especially now.”
After a little more coaxing, Sarah gave her a list of the things she was allergic to, and Finlay began mentally preparing an allergen-free menu. Bullet asked about the baby and Sarah’s brother.
“They’re watching Lila because she’s been lethargic, but they keep telling me not to worry, that it’s not uncommon and it could resolve on its own. But telling me not to worry about my baby is like telling me not to breathe. And Scott developed an embolism from the breaks in his legs, or rather, from one of his broken bones, so add that to the collapsed lung and he’s just a mess. But they keep telling me things look good, so I’m trying to focus on that.”
Finlay’s heart broke for her.
“I ran into my brother, Dr. Whiskey, in the elevator. He couldn’t give us details because we’re not family, but he said the prognosis was good for both Scott and Lila.”
“Yes. When he stopped in he said he was your brother. He’s got such a nice bedside manner. He helped me to understand what was happening with the embolism, which I guess was a fatty clot of some sort.”
The door opened and a slender gentleman walked in. “Sarah? I’m Arnie Carmichael, from the finance department. We spoke briefly when you checked in last night?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“I’ve checked on the insurance issues and deductibles. When you have a moment, I’d like to go over them with you.”
“Thank you.” Sarah turned to Bullet, the color draining a bit from her face. “My ex never let me work, and it turns out he let the kids’ insurance lapse. It’s like we have a gray cloud over us. We just moved to the harbor last week. We were on our way home from dinner celebrating Scott’s new job when the truck hit us. It doesn’t look like he’ll be able to take the job after all. They said his collapsed lung could take several weeks to heal, and with one broken leg and his other in pins from the shattered femur, they’re talking about more surgery down the road, weeks of casts, and physical therapy. I think we’ll be mired in medical bills forever, but thanks to you, we still have each other.” She sighed, blinking against tears. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
Bullet looked her square in the eyes and said, “Repay me by taking care of your family and future baby. Rest. Eat. And if you need anything, day or night, call me.”
On their way out of the hospital, Finlay said, “We have to help her,” at the very moment Bullet said, “I’ll pay for the food if you can bring her meals until her family is out of the hospital.”
“I was going to suggest we spend our first real date grocery shopping and cooking so Sarah doesn’t starve.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. “Lollipop, I think I love you.”
Chapter Ten
BULLET WAS QUICKLY coming to believe that Finlay Wilson was truly capable of magic. All she needed was a cell phone, a big-ass shopping cart, and a fully functioning kitchen. She’d flicked and touched and navigated her way through so many websites he got dizzy watching her. Then she infiltrated the grocery store like an army of ten, buying all new cookware to be sure they were allergen free, checking ingredients and prices and consulting her phone as if it were a mandate from the president himself. He hadn’t even known there was such thing as rice milk. After a trip to the organic market and another to the bookstore, because she needed to study up for Sarah, they finally landed back at her place with eight grocery bags and a fire in her belly. She scrubbed her counters just in case, slowing down only long enough to read the article about the accident before setting it aside and getting to work. She was on a bighearted mission, creating a notebook with three weeks’ worth of recipes for the Beckleys, and Bullet was falling harder for her by the minute.
She hustled around the kitchen like she was on speed, looking sinfully sexy in that little green dress and lace-up boots with a pink apron over her dress that said FINLAY’S across her chest. She put Bullet to work cutting up chicken and vegetables while she filled a Crock-Pot with meat, onions, brown sugar, and other seasonings.
“What’s your plan here, Fin?” he asked as she moved from the Crock-Pot to mashing up bananas. “I figured we’d whip up a few sandwiches and dinner for tonight, then bring a few more tomorrow…”
She scrunched up her face like he’d insulted her. “Are you kidding? Sarah is sitting in the hospital with her entire family in various states of peril. She needs comfort food, and lots of it. And she’s pregnant. How could you leave out that little detail?”
“I didn’t notice last night. I was too focused on trying to calm her down. I figured she was just pudgy until you said something about her baby.”
Finlay leaned her hip against the counter, studying him for a long moment. “You also didn’t tell me the accident was so hellacious, or that you were interviewed by a reporter.”
“Every accident is hellacious, and I wasn’t interviewed.”
“They quoted you in the paper. The writer’s name was Walt Norsden.”
“Walt? He was the dorky guy in the waiting room annoying me while I was with Sarah. He kept getting in our faces, and I finally told him to bug off or I’d break his legs.”
