Tangled Up in Texas Page 7

  Thankfully, Em was tending to the girl by patting her hand and giving her assurances that all would be well. Of course, Em wasn’t keeping it simple, and she was using a lot of phrases that he doubted Kinsley understood. Things like, “This will turn out to be as big of a deal as a popcorn fart, you’ll see.”

  That had only caused Kinsley to sob louder.

  Shaw wasn’t sure if Kinsley was crying because she was feeling guilty about hurting Sunny or because of what her mother had told her. He’d probably find out soon enough; for now he wanted to focus on Sunny. Well, that’s what he’d do once he saw her and made sure she was truly all right. He was afraid it would be much bigger than farting popcorn.

  Cancer.

  Hell.

  And now it was cancer with an injury. Shaw had had no trouble seeing that on her shirt after the bra spike had nailed her. There’d been some blood. Maybe it was from the surgery incision, but it was just as likely that Hadley’s lethal lingerie had caused serious damage.

  Ryan was pacing right along with him, and he gave occasional glances at the closed door of the exam room where the nurse had taken Sunny. What the boy hadn’t done was spill anything else after dropping his bombshell.

  Surgery because the doctors thought she had cancer.

  Shaw had asked Ryan for more, of course. So had Em. Heck, even Kinsley had. Ryan had insisted he’d already said too much and that anything else would have to come from Sunny herself.

  Of course, when Shaw finally managed to ask her about it, Sunny might just tell him to mind his own business, and, like Kinsley, he was feeling guilty, too. If he’d handled the situation better with Kinsley, then she wouldn’t have run off to Em’s, and she wouldn’t have been anywhere near Sunny or that damn bra.

  As he paced, Shaw glanced around again, and he was certain that word had already spread that there’d been some kind of trouble at the Dalton place. Either that or there’d been an epidemic of some sort because in the half hour they’d been there in the tiny ER, Shaw had seen no less than thirty people come in and out. All reasonably healthy-looking people whose only ailment was nosiness.

  Or in search of a date.

  Yeah, there’d been those all right. The single guys. The divorced ones. The ones who’d likely be willing to get a divorce if Sunny gave them a come-on look. Which there was no way she’d do to a married man. Still, they came, all leaving their numbers with Em when they learned they wouldn’t be seeing Sunny anytime soon. Em shoved the scribbled-down numbers in her purse.

  Shaw didn’t know if Em would actually give the numbers to Sunny. She probably would. And even if the woman didn’t, that didn’t mean the horde of suitors wouldn’t just go to Em’s and try to see Sunny there. Shaw could definitely see why the men would persist. He wasn’t blind and knew that Sunny was beautiful. Always had been, still was. But it was a lousy time to try to start up a romance.

  He glanced behind him when the ER door opened again, and after the stream of guys who’d come in, Shaw wasn’t particularly surprised to see yet one more. Carter Bodell, the town’s mortician. Since Carter was smiling, it didn’t appear he was going to feign an illness.

  “Good to see you,” Carter greeted, extending his buzzer-rigged hand for him to shake.

  Shaw gave him a look that could have frozen the entire city of El Paso in July. The look wasn’t just for that stupid buzzer, either. It was because Carter was no doubt here to try to scout out a date with Sunny.

  Carter went to Ryan next. Greeted him. Extended his hand. The boy shook his head and paced in another direction.

  That sent Carter to Em.

  “My legs don’t work as good as they used to,” Em told Carter, getting to her feet. She, too, ignored the offered handshake. “When I get startled or surprised, my right leg jerks and kicks about yea high.” She leveled her weathered hand with Carter’s crotch. “Best not to do anything to startle me.”

  Carter lowered his hand, and while his smile dimmed some, he didn’t look completely put off by the not-so-veiled threat of a kick to the balls. “I was hoping to see Sunny,” he said. “I wanted to see if she’d like to go to the Lickety Split with me.”

  The look Em gave him wouldn’t have chilled El Paso, but the woman managed to question Carter’s IQ with the simple lift of her eyebrow. “Sunny’s here in the ER. I’m thinking ice cream will have to wait.”

  Carter bobbed his head. “I didn’t figure she’d want to go right now but maybe in an hour or two. Say, what’s wrong with her anyway? No one seems to know for sure.”

  That set Kinsley to crying again.

  Frowning, Em took his hand carefully, as if she might give it a grandmotherly squeeze, and then without warning, she smashed Carter’s palm against his own arm. Along with the farting noise the buzzer made, it caused Carter to jolt as if he’d been electrocuted.

  “I’ll tell Sunny you dropped by,” Em said as if nothing had happened.

  Carter opened his mouth, but it took him a few seconds to recover. When he had, he stripped off the buzzer, flicked a button on it and jammed it into his pocket. He didn’t come out with an empty hand, though. He came out with a business card that he gave to Em.

  “My number,” Carter said, still sounding a little shaky. “Please tell Sunny to call me.”

  Em shoved the card in her purse with the other numbers and muttered all the right things that a polite lady would say. Good of you to drop by. Thanks for coming. With the underlying message of Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out. Carter left, taking his annoying self and buzzer with him. The man had certainly chosen the right profession since there was no way he could bother the dead.

  Carter had been gone only a few minutes when the exterior door opened again, and Shaw automatically turned in that direction. He’d thought maybe it was another guy out for a date or that he would see Leyton. He had hoped it’d be his brother, since Shaw had given him the task of trying to talk Aurora into coming here and picking up her daughter.

  But it wasn’t Leyton or his sister, Cait. It was a tall woman with ginger hair. Wearing jeans that were ripped and torn in all the fashionable places and a rhinestone tee, she looked like a been-there, done-that rock star. She had a huge leather bag hooked over her shoulder and what appeared to be a red spiked thong dangling from her fingers. Either that, or she liked really big and unusual rings. She glanced around the room, spotted Shaw and walked straight toward him.

  After the day he’d had, he immediately looked for any signs of Marty’s features. None, thank God. He’d had all the DNA surprises he could handle for one day.

  “This was on the ground outside the SUV that you used to drive Sunny Dalton here to the hospital,” she said, extending the red leather spiked thong for him to take. “It must have fallen out.”

  Shaw hesitated, but on a huff, he snatched it from her and crammed it into the Fred’s bag. “Thanks,” he mumbled in a dismissive sort of way.

  The woman didn’t budge. “I’m Tonya Pryor.” She extended her hand again, this time for him to shake. He didn’t. Because he recognized that name.

  “You’re the reporter looking to do a story on Little Cowgirls,” he grumbled. It wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t friendly. The woman had called him just a few days earlier. “This isn’t a good time.”

  “I gathered as much.” Tonya gave him a thin smile. “I can wait.”

  Shaw supposed that was her way of saying she wasn’t giving up. Well, neither was he. “You’re wasting your time.”

  “It’s my time to waste,” she countered, giving him what he was pretty sure was a variation of the stink-eye.

  He would have given it right back to her if the door to the examining room hadn’t finally opened, with Dr. Mendoza emerging. That sent Ryan practically running toward the man.

  “How is she?” Ryan asked, taking the question out of Shaw’s mouth. Obviously, out of E
m’s as well because she muttered a variation of that.

  The doctor was about to answer, but then he looked over Shaw’s shoulder at Tonya. “A friend of Sunny’s?”

  “No,” Shaw quickly assured him. “A reporter who has no business being here.”

  The doctor’s eyes narrowed. “Then, skedaddle,” he warned the woman.

  Huffing, the woman did move but not very far. She went about ten yards away and leaned against the wall. Shaw ignored her and turned back to Dr. Mendoza.

  “Is Sunny okay?” Shaw asked just as Ryan repeated, “How is she?” and just as Kinsley asked, “Did I stab her with that stupid bra?” and just as Em asked, “You didn’t ask her to tell you a joke, did you? Because Sunny doesn’t really care much for that.”

  Shaw seriously doubted that Em was so unruffled by all of this that a possible joke request would be at the top of her concerns. But maybe it was easier for Em to think about that than what Sunny might be going through in the examining room.

  “Sunny’s going to be okay,” Dr. Mendoza answered without addressing the joke comment. “But she didn’t want me to give you any details. While she’s waiting on a scrip for her meds, she wants to tell you those details herself. You first,” he said, looking at Ryan. “Then you,” he added to Shaw. “Then you,” he said to Em. “Sunny wants to see you, too.” The last request was aimed at Kinsley.

  “She wants to kill me because I stabbed her with that bra,” Kinsley concluded. That brought on more tears, and the girl went back to the waiting area where she dropped down into one of the chairs.

  “This girl stabbed Sunny Dalton with a bra?” Tonya questioned from behind them, causing Shaw to groan. He didn’t want to know how the reporter could work something like that into a story.

  Ryan took off to the examining room, leaving the rest of them standing there. Well, not the doctor. He didn’t offer any more info, but it did give Shaw some thoughts about the designated order of the visits. And he decided he needed to address that designation when Em looked even more troubled than she had minutes earlier.

  “Sunny likely just wants to make sure the boy’s not feeling too bad about what he blurted out,” Shaw told her, keeping his voice low since Tonya was nearby and obviously had ears like a bat.

  Em nodded and sighed. “I’m betting Ryan wished he’d had a zipper on his mouth right after he said it.” She looked up at Shaw. “We’ll need to do some soothing over there. Soothing over with her, too,” Em added, tipping her head to Kinsley. “Maybe Lenore can cook her up something special?”

  That wouldn’t fix squat, but for whatever reason Em had never been put off by his mom’s cooking the way everyone else had.

  “And I can maybe take Kinsley to the ladybug garden,” Em went on, her weary eyes fixed on the examining room where Ryan had disappeared. “That’s a surefire way to cheer her up.”

  Nope, it wasn’t. It was going to take a lot more than beetles with a cute name to get the girl out of this crying jag. Shaw was hoping that whatever Sunny had to tell her would help because he was tapped out here. If Leyton didn’t come through with Aurora, well, Shaw might take that trip to the ladybug garden just to see if he’d been wrong about it helping.

  It seemed to take an eternity, but Shaw figured it was only a couple of minutes before Ryan came out. The boy looked a little shell-shocked and still worried, but didn’t seem to be reeling from regret.

  “She wants to see you now,” Ryan told him.

  Shaw didn’t exactly run as Ryan had done, but he didn’t dawdle, either, steeling himself for whatever he might see in the room. Blood, an IV maybe. Maybe a pasty-pale Sunny in a great deal of pain. But none of that was going on. Wearing a bloodless green scrub top, she was sitting on the examining room table, her legs dangling over the side, and she was dragging a mascara wand over the lashes of her right eye while she peered into a palm-sized mirror.

  “I don’t want to look washed-out,” she said, not looking at him as she finished with the black goo. She’d obviously already applied some lipstick because her mouth was cherry red. “It’ll worry Em.”

  “That ship’s already sailed.” Shaw went closer and dropped the bra bag in the chair beside the examining table. “She’s worried. We all are. You okay?” he added when she didn’t say anything.

  She muttered a curse when she poked herself with the mascara, then blinked hard. That put some spidery black marks below her eye that she tried to smear away with her pinkie. Smear being the operative word because it turned the spider marks to more of a wave.

  “I have four stitches just below my armpit, but the doctor numbed it so I’m not hurting,” she explained, capping the mascara and dropping it into her purse—yet something else that Em had thought to bring to the hospital.

  “Stitches,” he repeated, silently cursing the damn bra. “And the surgery for cancer?”

  She made an oh, that kind of dismissal, but there was nothing dismissive about the look she gave him when she finally lifted her head and met his gaze. He supposed she was giving him a very serious expression, which was somewhat diminished by the makeup. She’d only put the mascara on one eye, and that cherry-red color only covered half of her bottom lip.

  “Do you owe me any favors?” Sunny asked.

  Shaw had to admit he hadn’t expected her to ask that, and it certainly didn’t address his question about surgery and cancer. Still, he’d see where it went. It wasn’t going to lead anywhere if she thought it would get her out of giving him some answers. Or at least giving Em some anyway.

  “I was thinking you might owe me a favor or two. Sore nuts,” he added as a reminder.

  Sunny huffed. “That was an accident, and it traumatized me. So, I’m going to count that as you owing me a favor.”

  “Okay.” He could see it from her angle though he wouldn’t mention that he’d taken years of ribbing over being nut-kicked and blooded-up by a girl. “Spill it. What favor do you want from me?”

  The corner of her mouth lifted a little, only emphasizing the badly applied lip stuff. For just a moment there was a naughty glint, but he thought maybe that was more of a reflex than actual lust. Hard to be lustful with armpit stitches and possible cancer while sitting in an ER. Still, the glint stayed.

  “Can you look at me as if you want to gobble me up?” Sunny asked.

  Shaw opened his mouth to answer and realized he didn’t have a clue how to respond to that. “Why?” he settled for saying.

  “Because if we have the hots for each other, then it’ll help Em focus on something else. Something other than her worry. It’ll stop some of the gossip about my health issues. And best of all, it’ll stop guys from trying to hit on me.”

  He had to give that some thought. “It might help with those things. Might,” he qualified. “But what else it’ll do is start a whole bunch of gossip about us hooking up again.” He groaned. “This is your solution to deal with Em? Because I think a better fix would be for you to tell us what’s wrong and how we can help you.”

  She looked him straight in the eyes. “You can’t help with that.”

  Oh, hell. Shaw felt as if an entire team of pissed-off mules had kicked him. “You have cancer?”

  “No.” She glanced away, shook her head and clamped her teeth over her lip for a moment. “But I thought I did.” Sunny motioned toward her breasts. “I had a lump removed, and for a while I thought it was cancer.”

  Shaw released the breath he’d been holding, and he expelled enough air to cause strands of her hair to flutter. “So, you’re okay? Well, as okay as you can be with stitches?”

  “As okay as I can be,” she verified.

  Still, he didn’t see any verification in her eyes or expression. “Are you worried a lump could come back?” Because something sure as hell was eating away at her.

  She stayed quiet a snail-crawling moment. “I’m afraid I won’t get past the fear
of the fear. If you know what I mean.”

  Shaw thought he did. The health scare had shaken her. “How long ago did you have the surgery?”

  “Last week.” She made a circling motion with her finger to her left breast. “The stitches came out this morning.”

  “Shit,” he grumbled. Well, that explained the wince he’d seen her make. That wasn’t nearly long enough for her to have recovered either mentally or physically. “And now you have new stiches.”

  “I can deal with that. There are plenty of Funny Sunny jokes I can come up with to stop any real concern folks might have. That won’t work with Em,” she added. “But giving her something else to think about will. That’s where the favor comes in. If she believes I came here to rekindle things with you, it’ll give her something else to focus on.”

  Shaw wasn’t so sure of that. “It could also give her something else to worry about. Em might see straight through something like this and then worry about why you’re trying so hard give her the kid-glove treatment.”

  “She won’t see through it because the heat is there between us.” She frowned when he groaned, shook his head and gave him narrowed eyes. “Deny it, Shaw Jameson, and I’ll French-kiss you to prove it.”

  Shaw stopped and considered. And he hated that he considered pushing to get that tongue kiss from Sunny. Of course, that only confirmed she was right about the heat.

  “This won’t cost you much time or energy,” she went on.

  “No, but it might cause me a hard-on or two,” he grumbled, causing her to smile. And that smile caused his own mouth to move in the direction of what could be interpreted as a cocky grin.

  “We’ll try to keep the hard-ons to a minimum,” Sunny assured him. “We can stick with kisses, touches, some long, lingering looks.”

  All of which could lead to hard-ons. He knew it. Sunny knew it. Heck, his dick especially knew it.

  “You’ll do it?” she asked.