Jackie Merritt - The Coyote's Cry

Jenna became intent on assisting the paramedics in moving Gloria from the ambulance as gently as possible. She held the IV bottle and kept the tubing from getting twisted or in the way while the two young men did their job. When everything was ready to take Gran into the house, one of the paramedics said, “Lead the way, Bram.”

“Uh…uh, sure,” he stammered, and somehow managed to get his feet walking and heading for the house. This was unfathomable. Jenna was Gran’s nurse? My God, Jenna was going to be staying in his house? Sleeping under his roof? In plain sight everywhere he turned? Hovering over Gran whenever he went into her room?

Bram led the way to the master bedroom, which had been his room before this tragic event.

“I gave her this room because of the bathroom,” he mumbled, wishing to hell his tongue would cooperate.

Jenna walked in and looked around. The whole house—or what she’d seen of it on her way in—was spotless and bore the unmistakable odor of disinfectant. Someone had done a thorough cleaning job, or was this almost sterile condition the norm for Bram’s home? She would never have thought so, but since she really didn’t know him in spite of her long-standing friendship with his sister, she could only guess at his housekeeping skills.

The paramedics were about to transfer Gloria from the gurney to the bed when Jenna said, “Wait a minute, please. Where will I be sleeping?”

Bram nervously shifted his weight from one foot to another. “The guest bedrooms are on the other side of the house.” Lord above, she’d be sleeping in the room next to his!

“Let me take a look.” Jenna handed the IV bottle to one of the paramedics and left the room. “Bram? How about giving me a quick tour?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, again having trouble with the simplest words. He walked past her, got a whiff of her clean, mildly floral smell and felt his face grow hot. Clenching his teeth, he led her through the house to the other two bedrooms.

Jenna took a quick peek into each and declared, “I’m sorry, but this won’t do. I need to be much closer to your grandmother at night. How about moving one of those twin beds into her room for me? I’ll keep my things in here and use the other twin when I think she’s doing well enough for me to sleep away from her.”

“Great,” Bram muttered.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing. Tell the guys to put her to bed. I’ll move the twin.”

“And I’ll bring in my suitcase.”

“Uh, I’ll get it for you.”

Jenna smiled sweetly. He was unbelievably rude, but she wasn’t going to let him beat her up over nothing. After all, he didn’t know that he had the starring role in the sexual fantasies that occasionally passed through her brain.

“Thank you.” She left him standing there and returned to the master bedroom. “Put her to bed,” she told the two young men. Seeing that Gloria’s eyes had opened, she took her hand and smiled. “Do you know where you are, Gloria? You’re at the ranch, at Bram’s house. We’re going to move you to what looks to be a very comfortable bed now. Are you all right with that?”

“Ho…ho…home,” Gloria whispered hoarsely.

“Yes, Bram’s home.”

“N-n-no! Ho…home.”

Jenna sighed internally. It was always the same with patients released from the hospital. They always wanted their own home.

The men easily and expertly moved Gloria to the bed, and then made sure her IV was working and she was as comfortable as they could make her. They left then and Jenna was alone with her patient.

On the other side of the house, Bram had taken one of the twin beds apart. Tossing the bedding on the other twin, he shoved the mattress and then the box spring onto the floor and picked up the bed frame. He wore a scowl because this whole setup was almost more than he could handle, and he hated feeling helpless about anything. How dare Jenna come barging into his life like this?

Carrying the bed frame into the master suite, Bram set it down long enough to move a dresser over a few feet to make room for the twin.

“May I help?” Jenna asked.

“No, thanks,” Bram said curtly.

“Fine, do it all yourself,” she retorted.

Bram’s head jerked around so he could look at her. She looked back, and it was a stare-down that shook Bram’s very foundation. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t like her being there, and to ask her how in hell she expected him to sleep at night with her only a few feet and a thin wall away. But he couldn’t reveal the secret passion he’d harbored for her for so long, and what rational excuse did he have for not wanting her to be Gran’s nurse?

“I’ll get the spring and mattress,” he muttered darkly, finally breaking that unnerving eye contact and leaving the room.

Jenna took in a huge gulp of air and realized that she’d been holding her breath. Not only that, but her entire system was in chaos, all tingly and reminding her in the most erotic ways of her femininity, caused solely from looking directly into Bram Colton’s incredible black eyes.

Shivering from so much sexual energy charging through her body, she busied herself unpacking a bag containing a supply of hospital gowns and the medications for Gloria.

Bram hauled in the box spring and left again without a word or a glance. In a minute he was back with the mattress. Immediately he walked out again.

Jenna was surprised by the animosity she felt from Bram. He’d never been friendly, that was certain, but his attitude today bordered on actual dislike. Had she inadvertently trod on his toes at some time? She couldn’t think of an incident where they were ever together long enough for either of them to injure the other’s feelings. And heaven knew that she’d been open to a better relationship between them. At least she had tried smiling at him. If he ever deigned to show her a genuine smile, she’d probably faint dead away.

Bram returned once more with an armload of bedding. “It’s clean,” he said gruffly.

“Did you think I would accuse you of giving me soiled bedding?”

He couldn’t believe her icy tone of voice and insulting question. “No,” he said with heavy sarcasm. “I merely pointed out that this is clean bedding.”

“Anyway, we’re disturbing my patient.”

“Who just happens to be my grandmother,” Bram snapped, but in a husky whisper. He walked over to the bed Gran was occupying and looked down at her. She seemed small as a child in his big bed, and he’d never seen her as a tiny woman before the stroke. That shook him, for it was visible evidence of the changes in her.

He said brusquely, “Do you want me to make up the twin for you?”

“I’ll do it. I know there are going to be a lot of family members dropping in, which is as it should be. But I must insist on one rule.”

Bram’s eyes got even darker. “You brought your own set of rules to my house?”

“One for now. And don’t act so put-upon. It won’t kill you or anyone else to follow it. When that door is shut, no one is to come in. I will close it only during baths or other episodes of personal care. Now, is that really asking too much?”

Bram was embarrassed but would die before showing it. “I can live with that.”

“Well, thank you very much.” Disgustedly, Jenna turned away.

Bram wanted to pull a chair over to the bed and sit with Gran for a while, but with Jenna hovering and puttering—making up the twin bed, for one thing—and his every cell attuned to her every movement, he abandoned that idea.

“I’m going to work,” he growled as he walked out. “Call me if you need anything. You’ll find the phone numbers where I can be reached listed on a pad under the wall phone in the kitchen.”