Diana Palmer

Protector


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butt.”

      “I’ll promote him.”

      Coltrain chuckled.

      “I’ll call Cash Grier. Nobody knows more about sniping than the police chief. He used to do it for a living.”

      “Good idea,” Coltrain added.

      “Look, I can’t stay here and I can’t go home, so what am I going to do?” Hayes asked miserably.

      “You won’t like the only solution I could come up with.”

      “If it gets me out of the hospital, I’ll love it. Tell me,” Hayes promised.

      Coltrain stood and backed up a step. “Minette Raynor says you can stay with them until you’re healed.”

      “Never!” Hayes burst out. “I’d live in a hollow log with a rattler, sooner than do that! Why would she even volunteer in the first place? She knows I hate her guts!”

      “She felt sorry for you when Lou mentioned we couldn’t find anybody who was willing to stay in your house,” Coltrain replied. Lou was short for Louise, his wife, who was also a doctor.

      “Sorry for me. Huh!” he scoffed.

      “Her little brother and sister like you.”

      He shifted. “I like them, too. They’re nice kids. We have candy to give away at the sheriff’s office on Halloween. She always brings them by.”

      “It’s up to you, of course,” Coltrain continued. “But you’re going to have a lot of trouble getting me to sign a release form if you try to go home. You’ll end up back here in two days, from overdoing, I guarantee it.”

      Hayes hated the idea. He hated Minette. But he hated the hospital more. Minette’s great-aunt Sarah lived with her. He figured Sarah would be looking after him, especially since Minette was at the newspaper office all day every day. And at night he could go to bed early. Very early. It wasn’t a great solution, but he could live with it if he had to.

      “I guess I could stand it for a little while,” he said finally.

      Coltrain beamed. “Good man. I’m proud of you for putting aside your prejudices.”

      “They aren’t put away. They’re just suppressed.”

      The other man shrugged.

      “When can I leave?” Hayes asked.

      “If you’re good, and you continue to improve, maybe Friday.”

      “Friday.” Hayes brightened a little. “Okay. I’ll be good.”

      * * *

      He was. Sort of. He complained for the rest of the week about being awakened to have a bath, because it wasn’t a real bath. He complained because the television set in his room didn’t work properly and he couldn’t get the History Channel and the International History Channel, which appealed to the military historian in him. He didn’t like the cartoon channel because it didn’t carry the cartoon movies he was partial to. He complained about having gelatin with every meal and the tiniest cup of ice cream he’d ever seen in his life for dessert.

      “I hate hospital food,” he complained to Coltrain.

      “We’re getting in a French chef next week,” the doctor said wryly.

      “Right, and I’m going to be named King of England the following one.”

      Coltrain sighed. He looked at the chart. “Well, the way you’re improving, I plan to release you in the morning. Minette’s coming to get you, bring you back to her place and then go on her way to the office.”

      His heart soared. “I can get out?”

      Coltrain nodded. “You can get out. And Minette and her great-aunt are wonderful cooks. You won’t have cause for complaint over there.”

      Hayes hesitated and avoided the doctor’s eyes. “I guess it was a kindness on Minette’s part to have me stay with her. Especially knowing how I feel about her.”

      Coltrain moved a little closer to the bed. “Hayes, she never had anything to do with Bobby, except that an older girl at her school was friendly with her and dated Bobby. But she wasn’t in their circle of friends, you see? Besides that, she’s one of the few people I know who never even tried marijuana. She has nothing to do with drugs.”

      “Her family...” Hayes began hotly.

      Coltrain held up a hand. “We’ve never spoken of that, and we shouldn’t, even now. Minette doesn’t know. You promised your father that you’d never tell her. You have to keep that promise.”

      Hayes took a steadying breath. “It’s hard.”

      “Life is hard. Get used to it,” Coltrain told him.

      “I’m doing that. This is my third gunshot wound,” Hayes pointed out.

      Coltrain cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “You know, that’s either damned bad luck or a death wish on your part.”

      “I don’t have a death wish!”

      “You walk headfirst into dangerous situations, without any thought of letting your men help.”

      “They all have families. Young families.”

      “Zack doesn’t. But if it worries you, hire some more single deputies,” Coltrain said curtly. “Some men with guts and independent thinking who know the ropes and can calculate the risk.”

      “Chance would be a fine thing,” he huffed. “The last deputy I hired was from up in San Antonio. He commutes. We don’t have a big employment pool here. Most of the young men move to the city to find work, and law enforcement is notoriously low-paying, considering where we are. If it was my only source of income, I’d be hard-pressed to pay the bills, even on my salary.”

      “I know all that.”

      “The family men needed jobs desperately,” he added quietly. “This economy is the worst I’ve ever experienced in my life.”

      “Tell me about it. Even physicians are feeling the bite. And it’s bad for our patients, many of whom won’t come in for early treatment because they don’t have insurance to pay for it. So they wait until conditions are life-threatening. It breaks my heart.”

      “Too true.” Hayes leaned back on the pillows. “Thanks for letting me out.”

      Coltrain shrugged. “What are friends for?” He looked at the chart. “I’m giving you prescriptions to carry with you, and I’ve made an appointment with the physical therapist who’s in a group that practices here. You’ll need to go three times a week. Don’t argue,” he said when Hayes started to protest. “If you want to ever be able to use that arm again, you’ll do what I say.”

      Hayes glared at him. After a minute he sighed. “All right.”

      “It’s not so bad. You’ll learn how to exercise the arm, and they’ll do heat treatments. Those feel good.”

      Hayes shrugged, wincing at the brief pain.

      “Isn’t that drip working?” Coltrain put down the clipboard and fiddled with the drip. “It’s clogged.” He called a nurse and indicated the drip. She grimaced and quickly fixed it.

      “Sorry, Doctor,” she said quietly. “I should have checked it earlier. It’s just, we’re so busy and there are so few of us...”

      “Budget cuts,” Coltrain nodded, sighing. “Just be more careful,” he said gently.

      She smiled faintly. “Yes, sir.”

      She left and Coltrain shook his head. “We have our own staffing problems, as you can see. I’ll have that drip removed later and we’ll give you a patch for the pain meds.”

      “Modern technology,”