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I peek around the door into Chief’s stall. Instead of working, Sunny leans against the wall, sunk low into her knees, resting her head against her hand. Not wanting to startle her, I take a few steps in reverse and drag my feet to make a loud production of it so she hears me coming the second time. When I look over the stall door, she’s back on her feet, hard at work.
“Hey, I had the day off today. I thought I’d check on you.” I pause against the door, crossing my feet at my ankles. “I’ve got a fork if you want some help.”
Her hand flits to her forehead, eyes closed tight. Quickly, she drops it again as if it’s giving too much away. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to help.”
Strain in her tone says she’s anything but fine. The sound of my voice made her wince. She’s sticking to the darkest corner of the stall. I’ve seen it a hundred times in Mom. The sensitivity to light, sound, even Dad’s breathing seems to make her ache. I’d wager Sunny is nursing a migraine.
“You don’t look so great. Are you okay?”
She nods, but a second later her nose scrunches from the pain. “I have a headache. It’s not a big deal. I get them if I cry too much, and we both know I did. It’s my reward for falling apart, I guess.”
“Let me get you some water.” I turn back, headed for the first aid kit in the office I keep. It’s mostly storage boxes because I’m not one to stay behind a desk, if possible, but I learned a long time ago that the wranglers have a tendency to get hurt and first aid wasn’t something I could ignore. I grab a water bottle from the half-empty case and a bottle of ibuprofen. By the time I make it back to her, she’s returned to her crouched position against the wall. Unlatching the stall door, I try to keep noise to a minimum, but the bolt slipping back grates on her. I take a knee in the sawdust, hand against her back to steady her.
“Here’s some water.” I put the bottle in her hand. It takes a minute, but she sips at it before she reseals it and sets it against her boot.
“Sorry, I get nauseous when it gets bad.”
I push her hair back to get a look at her face. “You’re probably dehydrated. Have you eaten since breakfast?”
“No, I was running behind, so I didn’t have time.”
“You’re working against yourself.” I grab the bottle of pills and pop the lid. “I brought you some pain killers. It’ll be a minute, but they’ll at least take the edge off.”
Her hand wraps around my wrist. “No pills. I don’t take medication anymore.”
“Don’t be silly. You need something to get you through this. You’re barely functioning.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Her grip tightens on my arm. Whether she’s trying to make a point, or she is working through the pain, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s both. “No pills. Please.”
Another piece to the mystery of her life. “So, do you have herbal supplements or something? An oil? A crystal?” I don’t mean to sound desperate, but I don’t like watching people in pain, but watching pain I could solve, it feels worse.
“I’ll be fine.” Using my arm, Sunny rises to her full height again. “I just need to finish and then I’ll—” Before she finishes, her balance falters and she tumbles into the clean shavings. Just like Mom, vertigo has taken over.
I rush to her side, helping her sit up. “You’re done. I’m taking you back to the bunkhouse.”
“No.” Sunny bats at me, but the pain overpowers her. “I have work to do.”
I loop her arm around my neck and slip my arms beneath her. Even dead weight, she’s not bad to hold. “Consider this an order from your boss. You’re taking a sick day.”
“But I’m not done.” Without lifting her head from my shoulder, she tries to smack my chest. “Unhand me, foul cowboy.”
I snicker at her delirium. “Come on, I can’t be that foul, I haven’t done anything today. I think I smell nice.”
She groans, not in the mood for my humor. “I’m serious, Rhett, put me down or I’ll kick your butt.”
Since she can’t see straight, let alone open her eyes or swing an arm with accuracy, I figure I’ll take my chances.
“Oh yeah,” I tease, “you’re a real threat.”
“I am.” Her words are hardly more than a mumble. “My brother Anderson is in the military. He taught me how to fight.” She tries to lift her head enough to glare but collapses against me again. “I’m basically a human weapon.”
“Yeah, and if you could see straight, I’d worry.” At the last second, I change directions. By the time the guys get back, the bunkhouse will be swarming with noise. My room in the house though, it’s far away from everyone else. She can get the rest she needs.
I stop on the porch. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get the door open. Knowing I have to face the music eventually, I press the doorbell and wait. Sunny’s head droops again, hiding in the shade of my frame. My only hope is that Carl and Dad are still gone. If not, this could go south really fast.
The door swings open, followed by Mom’s gasp. “Everett, what happened? Is she okay? Do we need to get her to the hospital?”
True to her nature, Mom starts checking Sunny over for broken bones or lacerations. Sunny winces at the sudden noise and motion. I step back, trying to give her some peace from Mom’s worries.
