Different Paths Read Online Free PDF Page A

of the steer head tattoo that snaked around from the back of my neck to the front.
    I shifted the helmet to the other arm. “I’m here to visit Carla Beaumont.”
    “Are you family?”
    Yes . “No. A friend.”
    She considered this. “I’ll check with her.” She walked purposefully to Carla’s door and went inside. A moment later she was back.
    “Sorry. I can’t let in just anybody, you know. You can go on back.”
    I met her eyes, trying to determine if she was this protective with all visitors, or if it was the “biker thing” Nick had been talking about. No telling. I let it go and went to Carla’s room, swinging open the door to face a severe frown. I stopped at the foot of the bed, trying not to grin at Carla’s toddler-like expression. “Mornin’, Sunshine.”
    Carla narrowed her eyes. “I don’t want to hear about your breakfast. Eggs and pancakes and sausage and a glass of that whole milk, straight from the cow. And don’t even begin to tell me about waffles and ice cream or even that piece of buttered toast. I don’t want to know.”
    I pulled up the visitor’s chair and plopped into it. “How ‘bout a stale granola bar and a glass of OJ at five this morning? Want to hear about that?”
    Her lips pursed. “That’s all?”
    “Only a glass of warmish water since.”
    “Well, all right.” Her face relaxed and she grinned. “So how’s your hot boyfriend?”
    “He’s good. Sends his regards. Hopes you can get out of here soon.”
    “He coming up to visit? I’d love to see him.” She grinned and waggled her eyebrows, and I remembered those days a year ago, when she would come around to the farm just to watch him paint my heifer barn or simply walk around, being gorgeous. Those were the days before he and I were anything official. Well, other than as employer and employee. Before I knew he was a developer. Before I knew he would be the love of my life, who would contract a serious disease. Who would have a home and family two hundred miles away.
    I tried to smile. “I hope he can come up soon. We don’t have definite plans.” Of any sort, which Miranda loved to rub in.
    Carla waited for more, but I didn’t offer anything. She tried again. “Sorry about not asking after him yesterday. I forgot when you were here.”
    “Guess you had other things on your mind. Speaking of which, how’s your head?”
    She waggled her hand back and forth. “Feels okay, but then, I think I’m still doped up. The nurses and doctors seem happy.”
    “That’s a good sign.”
    “I guess. I just wish they’d let me eat.”
    “Patience.”
    She growled. “They claim they have to wait twenty-four hours and then I can start on real food again. Just in case I have to have brain surgery.”
    I grimaced. “Aren’t head injuries supposed to make you nauseous, anyway?”
    “Not me.”
    “Yeah, right.”
    “Really.”
    “So is there anything I can do for you?”
    She brightened.
    “ Other than smuggle in food?”
    She dimmed. “No.”
    “I didn’t think about asking after Concord yesterday. You need me to do anything with him? Take him home with me? Queenie would love to have him.”
    Carla had adopted a greyhound only a month or so earlier, his name a testament to the purple tint of his smooth hair as well as to the speed at which he ran. Like a jet plane. He used to run that fast, anyway, before he aged and was deemed of no use at the racetrack. I was sure Carla wouldn’t want him home alone.
    “Bryan’s taking care of him. He took him to his place so he can walk him and keep him company. Said he’s adjusted pretty well. Poor guy’s lived too many places and been treated too badly.”
    “Bryan?”
    “Ha, ha.”
    “And where is your knight in NASCAR armor today? I’m surprised he’s not glued to your bedside gazing at you with awe and wonder.”
    “Will you stop? He’s at the Home Depot. The new one there at the corner of 113 and Old Bethlehem Pike. He works in the lumber