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“What the hell’s going on? We have work to do.” Cross came stomping into the barn, shifting his gaze from each of them in agitated curiosity.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on.” Candy sighed. “Carter is engaged and didn’t have the decency to tell his own mother. Did you boys know about this?” Her tone had softened some but the anger in her gaze remained.
All eyes then centered on Carter. He wanted to laugh but feared Ma might throw something at his head. “No one can believe anything you read on the internet.”
“Uh-oh,” Blue muttered.
“Could someone bring me up to speed on what I’ve missed?” Cross shifted his weight. .
Blue took a step, his brows furrowed. “Carter, you should take a look at your phone. More importantly, the last text message you sent.”
Carter’s eyelid twitched. Bits and pieces were coming back to him. He felt nauseated as he clicked a button. He’d sent Gianna a text. “Oh shit!” Sweat beaded his skin and his head suddenly felt full of cement. Before he could prevent what was happening, he stumbled backward and everything went dark.
Chapter Three
“Don’t look at my ass,” Carter growled.
Maya laid out the supplies on the stainless-steel table. “If I’ve seen one, I’ve seen a hundred. Now stop being so modest and get those jeans off so I can take a look.”
“With you standing there watching? Do you mind?”
“You used to run around naked on the ranch—and very proud of yourself, I might add. When did you get so shy?” Maya teased.
“Twenty plus years, six feet of height and two hundred pounds later, I’ve finally learned a modicum of modesty.”
She gave a casual shrug and swiveled on the stool. “The blanket’s on the end of the bed.” She occupied herself by rearranging medical items on the shelf. “You do know I’m a nurse practitioner, right? And also your cousin who ran around naked with you, despite my mother’s disapproval. We were three and didn’t see any need for clothing when we were splashing around in mud puddles.”
“I don’t know if that makes things better or weirder.”
He loosened his jeans and let them drop to his ankles, seeing the holes in the backside of the denim.Damn sum’bitch.He’d ruined his favorite pair of jeans.
Inelegantly hopping over, he leaped up on the exam table that wasn’t big enough for a man his size. Slowly spreading out on his stomach, he covered up with the blanket, everything but his one butt cheek. “I’m decent.”
“Great. Now let me take a look—” Her breath came out in a hiss.
He looked over his shoulder, seeing her mouth hanging open. “What? Is it that bad?”
“How did you say you did this?” She picked up a syringe and a bottle off the table.
“Long story short, I fell on a pitchfork.” He’d rather not get into the humiliating details of how he’d found out that he proposed to his old friend then passed out. The farming instrument just happened to be in the way.
“Did your blood pressure drop?” she asked.
“Nah—just felt sick. Queasy. I blacked out.”
“Weren’t you at Corby’s last night?”
“Yeah. Celebrating my birthday with a couple of shots.” His stomach turned at the mere thought of the night before. Yeah, he definitely wasn’t going to drink for a while.
“By chance, did you eat chicken wings?”
“Yeah. A whole platter.” His stomach rumbled.
“I’d bet a month of wages that you have food poisoning. I’ve had a couple patients this morning who’ve experienced the same symptoms after they ate the chicken wings last night. I made a call to Hershel and he told me he’d hired a new, unexperienced, cook to fill in while he’s off with a broken leg. I advise you to get some rest, drink lots of fluids, and if you’re hungry keep the food bland. Otherwise, you might start vomiting, or worse.”
“Great,” he muttered into the bed, remembering that he’d had the sandwich prior to passing out.
“I told you not to eat the wings,” Blue said from the open doorway.
