Page 122 of Sing it, Sam

Chapter Forty-Three

An older man in double denim and dusty boots kneels at our side. “You alright, mate?”

My pulse races, the sound of it rushing in my ears. “W-what just happened?” I mumble as I stare at Sam. His cheeks are washed of colour.

He squeezes his eyes shut and snorts a breath out of his nose. “Too much wine,” he says through a chuckle.

“Just take it easy, huh?” the denim cowboy says, helping Sam to his feet.

“Fine,” Sam garbles.

I look to the man. “Can you please hold him for a sec?” I jog over to the wheelchair, and push it over.

Supporting Sam under his armpits, the man and I guide him into the chair. He coughs repeatedly once he’s seated and shakes his head.

I kneel down in front of him and dust the dirt from his pants. “Sam, what happened just then? Did you hurt yourself? Are you dizzy? Do you feel unwell?” I lift each foot and position them on the metal footrests.

He grits his teeth together. “Just the wine,” he says in a croaky voice.

I thank the man for his assistance and wheel Sam beside a row of rectangular hay bales. I take a seat beside Sam and reach out and ruffle his hair. Whilst I don’t want the night to be over, I know in my heart Sam needs to be indoors, out of the cool night air. I don’t like the sound of that cough.

“We need to get home. I’ll call Ben and ask him to come and get us,” I say after contemplating our options.

“Nah, leave him. Just call an Uber,” Sam says, and leans his head forward. “It’ll cost five bucks or something.”

Did he bump his head just now? “An Uber? In Willow Creek?” I chuckle at the thought. “We’ve got two cabbies in town, and they’ll be flat out like a lizard drinking tonight.”

Sam concedes, and within five minutes, Ben is waiting for us at the pick-up point. I help Sam into the car and go to the first aid tent and swap the wheelchair for the walker. On my way back, I visit the woodfire stall, grab two pizzas, and walk back to Ben’s car.

“What did ya get?” Sam asks as I get in the back seat.

“Roast pumpkin, fetta, and basil. I figured you guys would be hungry before too long.”

“If I ever see another pumpkin …” Sam teases.

“Tomorrow, you might be spared,” I reply with a smirk.

***

“You scared me tonight,” I say in a quiet voice as I climb beneath the covers, facing Sam.

Sam stares at my face and then looks down at my silver charm necklace, which seems to holds his focus. “I’m good, Janie. Like I said. Too much wine.”

I lift his head with my finger beneath his chin. “But you only had one.”

“What can I say, babe? I’m a lightweight these days.”

I force a heavy sigh out my mouth. “I think you should make an appointment to see the neurologist.”

His body stiffens. “Has Ben been in your ear again?” he says with a certain grit in his voice that causes me to cringe. I won’t have it. I won’t let him ignore the fact that this is important. And he needs to get over whatever issue he has with his brother.

“Sam,” I bark. “Will you get your head out of your arse for a second?”

His brows jump closer to his hairline. “What?”

“I said—”

“Yeah, I heard you.”

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