Chapter 4
FOUR
WINNIE
Uniforms and Chicken Salad Sandwiches
Working my shift is a terrible idea. My head runs through a chaotic stream of consciousness I can barely keep steady on a caffeinated day.
This week has been a shit show of emergency calls.
From an overdue year’s worth of deep and meaningful catchups with my still semi-estranged brother—that relationship with Cordell didn’t last long after Lanie’s absence in my house once she moved to Coyote Falls permanently—to me cussing myself out for not taking bigger steps to breaking down the barrier myself.
Can I have my own hotline?
West has always been my brother’s prime confidant. Talking to him about the ranch’s future without West present is a new pedestal I’m not sure I want to be on. I’m still angry with myself for missing that Cord’s best friend hasn’t been present over the last few months.
Seeing West again leaves me aching for a part of my life I thought I’d shut away when I decided I could do without all things rugged, brooding cowboy.
My decision to be anti-Cord lasted three whole months, but his influence has been intermittent at best. A phone call here, dropping in to Sally’s school to donate a new wing or sporting field there.
Do not touch my hospital, brother boy. Not that I get a whole lot of control.
Then there’s the increasing amount of assignments and extracurricular activities on the offspring front.
I love that Sally gets to do more, even if I hate how much has changed now that Cord is back in our lives.
Not that I hate him… just… ugh. The mess of my hyperactive, fussing brother, always.
I’ve never called in sick in the nine years after having Sally, and I’m not about to start today. I do make the choice not to drive due to my fatigue. That West was right irks me.
“You should absolutely not be here today,” Eddie, my copilot for the day, points out two hours before our shift is due to end.
“Yeah, I know.” I yawn from the passenger seat, where I’ve sunk to the level of the dash and am on my third taco of the day.
I’ve spent the afternoon drifting between daydreams of sassy cowboys and stoic ones, all bearing West’s build but a face I can’t quite discern, and I still can’t decide which sort I prefer best. “But I made it. We made it. Then we shall go home and sleep.”
“Amen to that, sister.” Eddie flashes me a smile that doesn’t fool me.
He’s got the words and the moves. The boy is a manwhore who can tell me off all he likes.
He’ll be out on the town looking for a fresh distraction to fill the void of our social lives during the shifts that consume every heartbeat in between.
Which is how we like it, most of the time. It’s during those few quiet hours between when everyone else is asleep that the doubts slip in and the world sucks sometimes. Those hours are rare, and usually forcibly sober.
Like last week, after West left. I didn’t end up getting any sleep at all, but I hit my alarm before it went off at five a.m., dressed warm, and ran my behind off around the same city blocks he drove me home through a handful of hours before. I called it therapy.
I suspected he’d call it city duck-butt bullshit. In retrospect, he’s probably right. Nor have I had a decent night’s sleep since. I’ve been calling it the West Curse.
“So you made it,” Eddie points out, bringing me back from my tangenting. The farther the afternoon drags on, the worse I get. “You know that means that you’re driving tomorrow, and I get to be sidecar bitch.”
“Fine, come in hungover. I don’t care,” I mumble, prying my eyelids open to study a woman shuffling along the sidewalk in her dressing gown.
“Excellent. There’s a new club I want to try tonight. It’s on Feldman. Have you been there?” He looks at me, and I know there’s an open invitation on the table.
For the first time in our two-year partnership, I don’t want it.
“I’ve seen it.” I offer a disinterested shrug.
“Pink glitter walls to the ceiling. Poles. The DJ changes nightly. None of this stale club culture. Oh, and have you seen the act for this weekend? There’s a new celebrity brought into town. B-listers and above only.” Eddie warms to his theme.
I nod, only half listening. The woman with the gray hair continues her shuffle. I swear I know that walk and that hair done up in its perfect French roll. Damn, I wish I could do hair like that. It’s a real lost art. “Sounds great.”
“Doesn’t it? And I bet—”
“Stop the ambulance!” I yell.
“Jesus.” Eddie slams on the brakes with the reflexes of a frontline soldier. Those same reflexes save lives on a weekly basis, and I know what to expect from him.
My seat belt is off. I’m out of the ambulance and across the road before his second shout reaches me. I reach the shuffling woman, barely out of breath.
“Mrs. Cunningham? Hey. You’re out for a walk, huh?” I knew I recognized that face. Or, at least, her hair. “Mrs. Cunningham? June?” June Cunningham is a dementia patient who wanders in on a regular basis.
Mrs. Cunningham stares my way through a bleary, fixed gaze that doesn’t quite see me. “That’s a nice shirt you’re wearing, Mera. Be better if it was blue, to match your nice eyes.” She mixes me up with one of her four daughters, who don’t pay half as much attention to her as they should.
“I never could pick out an outfit the way you do. Those slippers are way too perfect,” I tell her.
“And they look comfy as all get out. Plus that hair! You have a talent, Mrs. C. Now, where are you headed? I’ll give you a lift.
” I guide her to the ambulance that Eddie has repositioned neatly next to us.
“No,” he mouths, shaking his head. Deft fingers tap at his watch. “Call it a day.”
I shrug, not caring about his social habits. “Come on, Mrs. C. You don’t want to get the fluffy bunnies dirty. I know you care about them.”
We look down at her blue slippers together, bearing fluffy bunny heads. One ear is sadly bent and a little dirty.
“Oh dear,” says Mrs. C. “Manny needs a wash.”
I don’t doubt that she’s named her slippers or that they’ll have different names by the time we arrive at the hospital. Thankfully it’s not a hard job to get her into the ambulance. I check her vitals, which she lets me do, and they’re clear, thankfully.
“Stay with me.” A bony hand grips mine as I turn to head up front.
“Of course.” I nod to Eddie, who shoots me a look, and I know I won’t escape a conversation later before we clock out. I pat her hand and wonder just how long it’s been since she had a solid meal. Well, we’ll fix that today. Maybe tomorrow too. “I’m right here, Mrs. C.”
Four hours later Eddie leans his back against the ambulance and glares at me. “Those are pretty slippers, Mrs. C,” he mimics. “How did you do your hair like that?”
“To be fair, both are a challenge, in her situation,” I protest. “Have you ever done a French roll? Not an easy job, my friend. And I’m not convinced she should be home alone at all. Even with Manny and Silky for company.”
Mrs. Cunningham was admitted after a few hours of good conversation in the ER waiting bay, a hydrating IV that she desperately needed, and a bowl of food that ended up flung across the ambulance bay.
I mopped that up while we waited on her admission.
But hey, someone will get food into her either today or tonight, or she won’t be going home.
I just hope reception manages to reach her daughters.
My phone vibrates in my uniform pocket. I slide it out, praying Brad’s name won’t pop up on the screen. I’m forever traumatized by that man. Thankfully, my best friend’s name soothes me.
Cord wants to see Sally again. And I miss you. Can you come up this weekend?
Drive to Coyote? Let me check my schedule.
I remember a girl who never checked her schedule for anything. Or anyone. Remember Randy?
Oh boy. Do I ever. Wasn’t he the first one?
The first one you did that stupid “I love you” early thing with? Uh-huh. He was so enamored.
Oops. I mean, I did. For about five seconds. Literally. On that one night. Then it was over.
You broke his heart. RIP Randy of the one night. Be free. So, Sally?
Ah. Yes. Driving to Coyote.
…waiting…
Hmm. I seem to have this thing called a job.
We can come get her?
Missing the point. But I miss you too!
Eddie groans when he sees me diverting from the conversation’s focus, ADHD-style, without him and straightens.
“That’s not your call to make, paramedic, assessing her abilities.
” I grimace as he eyeballs me. “Neither is picking up a stray off the side of the street along with her collection of rabid bunnies. What if, halfway to the hospital, she came out of her drifting phase? What if, Winnie, nice Mrs. Cunningham screamed kidnapper, or worse? What then? Because then both you and I are up on charges. I happen to like my income and my freedom. How about you?”
I frown at him. “I love my job,” I correct him.
“Whatever.” A hand wave fractures the space between us and the perfect partnership we’ve developed over numerous patients. “You go right ahead and pick up whoever and whatever you want from now on. I’m out.” He spins away from me in a huff.
Okay, so we waited a few extra hours, but she needed the help. Badly, and not for the first time. I mean, that’s the job. Isn’t it? Or have I been doing it wrong all this time?
“What?” I reach for him, tap his shoulder. “Hey. It’s one day, you know?”
He stares at me like he’s never seen me before. “No, Winnie. It’s not just one day. It’s never one day with you. It’s every damn day. Must be fun being a millionaire when you can do whatever you like and live by your own rules without fear of being fired,” he spits out.
I rock back on my heels. “Wait a hot minute, rodeo rampage. That is not how it works. I do not have money in the bank.” Just a stalker ex, a future for my daughter I desperately want to protect, and a brother I’m mostly sure about. Mostly.
“Yeah? I heard your rich big brother upstate gave you a ton of cash when you whined to him about your divorce problems.” Eddie turns purple.
My good friend Eddie, who I’ve driven with countless hours.
Eddie, who has shared that same time drenched in who knows what body fluids, now rejects me because of Cord.
Fucking Cordell and his fucking money.
I bite my lip before I turn this into a full-blown argument, because I’ve had dozens of those with the ex-husband.
Does Brad have a hand in this? Probably not.
I don’t feel it and my gut is usually good with that.
Which means… shit, shit, shit. There’s a rumor that’s shot around the hospital that I need to straighten out right now.
Coyote Falls is a ranch, and that community is fairly closed. West deals with the chatter there. Gossip is queen in places like Valiant Peak, and I’ve attended enough of my brother’s small-town rodeos to understand that. But nurses and paramedics? We’re a whole other rumor-mill cadre of our own.
I take a deep breath and dig my heels in.
“Cord gave Sally money for her birthday. It’s in a family trust that I don’t touch unless it’s for her schooling.
She’ll get it when she turns twenty-one.
That’s for her, Eddie. Not me. I’m happy for her.
But I’ve never wanted anything to do with my brother’s money.
I just want to work. Make a difference. You know?
” I can’t prevent the desperate, begging note that tinges that my voice.
And I hate it.
Sally could have given a better explanation. Suddenly I miss my offspring more than anything.
“Yeah, sure.” Eddie snorts his derisiveness. “Because no one sits around struggling for no good reason, Rand, making terrible life decisions with no fear of consequences. But you keep on doing crazy shit. I’m off this boat ride.”
I blink. “Eddie? Are you quitting?”
“Hell no, you crazy woman.” He stares at me like I’m the mad one. “I’m requesting a different assignment.”
I stand at the edge of the ER waiting area as Eddie storms off, grabs a hose, and starts washing our ambulance down with force.
“Shit.” All the energy slinks from my body. My butt hits the filthy cement, but I’m too numb to feel it. “Shit,” I whisper.
Somewhere in the middle of all this, I have to protect Sally. How the hell did I think I could get away with having a life when Cordell Rand is her uncle? Any normal life. Dammit, I’m stupid. And selfish. Stupid selfish.
Warmth bumps me as a body sinks to the cement beside me.
“Chicken salad sandwich?”
I don’t glance at Tom as he passes the offering over without another word. Because this is our regular, out here. Away from the madness and drama inside.
Here, we don’t have to talk about whatever he experienced today on his shift. I don’t have to talk about mine. He’s made me a sandwich, and I eat. His arm wraps around my shoulder as I munch away in silence, wondering what the hell else I’m missing.
Scarred hands, leather, and Coyote dust.
West walked away. Claimed his freedom. Found his…
something. Whatever it is that he’s looking for away from my brother’s ranch.
Hell, I could even call him. West would knock the rumor mill away with one hard stare.
The thought of relying on him to shut it all down and just forgetting would be a relief.
Chaotic thoughts swirl around my head, and I discard each one as they pop up. No, this is something I need to handle for me, not owe favors to the Coyote Falls boys for. Not my brother. Not his best friend. Zero interference. That’s what got me here. That and some shitty choices of my own.
Because out here? This is just my regular, normal life mess.
At least the chicken salad is good.