Sarah didn’t appear as if she really did know. The nonchalant way she asked me and looked into my eyes made me think she was fishing for information and didn’t actually have any of her own. But I was still nervous.
“Um, I … uh…” I started to talk but my words just wouldn’t come. I had no idea how to respond to her.
“I’m kidding, jeez,” she laughed. “But with that response, now you have me wondering.”
“I’m just a wanderer. You know. A typical guy who doesn’t like commitment,” I joked.
“In my experience, everyone is hiding from something when they show up here. But I’ll let you keep your secrets for now.”
Sarah held my hand in hers as she continued the process of cleaning out each of the blisters. It was disgusting as the puss, blood, and ooze poured out of my hand. I had to look away to avoid vomiting up my lunch. But Sarah didn’t seem fazed by it at all. She diligently cleaned out each one and clipped the dead skin off; when she was done, my hand was practically one giant open wound.
“I suppose you’re going to throw some vodka on there and kill all the germs off,” I joked.
Sarah reached for a small, white container and a large piece of medical gauze that was sitting right next to her. I watched as she continued to work and only looked up briefly to give me a quick warning.
“It’s alcohol and it’s going to hurt like a bitch; try not to scream.”
“Oh, I think I can handle …” I started to say as she dabbed the alcohol around my hand.
I couldn’t continue talking and avoid swearing and screaming; the pain shot through every nerve in my hand. She was gentle though, and I knew it was for my own good. I had so many open sores on my hands that I was sure to get some sort of infection if they weren’t cleaned out and bandaged up correctly.
I felt embarrassed that my hands were so destroyed by just a couple of weeks of work. Perhaps I wasn’t holding the shovel right, or maybe I just hadn’t built up a tolerance for that level of work; but either way, it was embarrassing to have my hands covered in blisters and needing the level of care that Sarah was providing to me.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said through gritted teeth.
“The rest of the process is easy, if that’s any consolation,” She smiled at me.
Again with that smile; she was mesmerizing. Even in the midst of horrible pain, I felt my throbbing member kept rising to attention at the kindest of glances from Sarah. Luckily I was in jeans and sitting down, because I was certain if I was standing she would have noticed how my body seemed to love her smiles.
She smelled delicious, too. Not like the women in Los Angeles smelled though. Sarah wasn’t covered in perfume and she didn’t have a fake tan on, or fake anything from what I could tell. It was just her natural scent that drove me crazy. I honestly couldn’t get enough of breathing her in and continued to do it as inconspicuously as I could manage as we sat there.
“What’s left? Amputation?” I joked.
“Actually, after I get you all bandaged up, you will probably feel pretty good for the next week or so. Hopefully when your hands heal up they’ll be a little more like man hands and less like little boy hands,” she winked.
I had to laugh. If only she knew the truth about me. The only blisters I had ever had were on my feet after running on the treadmill for too long. My life had admittedly been very comfortable and not physically demanding, but I wasn’t going to complain.
Safety was why I was on the ranch and Sid would have let me lessen my load of work if I had asked him. But I didn’t want less work. Keeping busy was the only thing that kept my mind occupied and I needed that. If I didn’t have my mind occupied, I would have been fixated on Frank Gordano and the threats he had made to my life.
While I hadn’t seen the crime scene myself, I heard all the details about Thomas’ murder. Thomas had flown a couple of Frank’s people back to Los Angeles from Mexico. It was a typical flight and there hadn’t been anything unusual that I could tell. But when they landed at the airport, one of Frank’s men tried to shoot Thomas. Something must have happened and Thomas had been shot in the shoulder.
From the police report and photos that I had seen, it looked like a very bloody scene on the airplane. Thomas must have tried to run and the he was shot again in the back. A blood trail led from the front of the plane to the back of it and then down the stairs to the outside. Finally, Thomas was shot in the head and his body fell at the foot of the steps to the plane.
A baggage guy was driving by and saw two men run away from the plane with a couple black duffle bags. They got into a black, unlabeled car and drove away, leaving my friend on the ground to die. I was called shortly after that when the police took Thomas to the station. But when I went out to my car, there was a bloody message on the windshield that read “Next.” My body went cold and I called the police. I wasn’t about to end up murdered, if there was anything I could do about it.
“Well I hope you’re right because I don’t want to have to go through this again. I have to keep these baby hands looking good,” I laughed with Sarah.
As scared as I had been back home, I wasn’t scared at that moment. Being on the Miller ranch was a relief, and being there with Sarah made it even better. Just being around a woman made me feel happier than I had been in weeks.
“How about tomorrow I teach you a little more about the horses and we have someone else do the shoveling?”
“Now that sounds like something I can get excited about, but who will do the shoveling?”
“There’s a new guy coming tonight; it’s tradition that the newest person does the shoveling.”
“Well I’m glad he didn’t take another month to show up.” We both laughed.