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“Yeah, it’s hard to make any money when you give stuff away. How long has it been since your injury?”
Noah didn’t like talking about the events of that godawful day, but after working with Gage on the fencing, he respected the man too much to be rude to him. “A little over a year now.”
“How many surgeries did you have on your leg?”
Noah sighed. “Three major. Six total.”
“So all that physical trauma plus the mental fallout…” He shrugged. “Seems to me you haven’t needed to expend much thought figuring it out until now. I wouldn’t sweat it too much if I were you. If you want to see the woman, see the woman. Willow’s a good one.”
Considering that he’d been hiding from her ever since that kiss, Noah didn’t think that was a likely outcome. It was time to change the subject, so he rolled out his usual question. “You’re going to take one of these pups, aren’t you?”
“Actually, I am.”
Whoa. He hadn’t expected that. “You are?”
“Yeah. We always had Labs at the Triple T. Great bird dogs. Lost our last one not long before we found out that Emily was sick, and neither of us wanted a new dog at that point. I haven’t given it any thought until you started hounding me about it the last few days.”
“You don’t want to go back to Labs? You can’t count on these dogs growing up to be hunters.”
“No, I like the idea of a mutt. So, are you going to let me have the pick of the litter?”
That question stopped Noah. “Actually, can I get back to you on that? I sort of promised first pick to… someone else… but I’m not sure if they’re still interested.”
“‘Someone else.’ Let me guess. Willow Eldridge?”
“Her kids.”
“Is the—” Gage broke off abruptly as a strange look came across his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his blue bandanna. “You must have put a lot of pepper in that stew of yours. I’m sweating like a big dog.”
It had been a long time, but Noah instinctively switched to professional mode. “C’mere.” He took Gage’s arm and led him back to the bench. “You having chest pain?”
“No. Not really.” After Noah’s challenging look, he added, “Maybe a little discomfort.”
“How long has it been hurting?”
“Look, Tannehill, there’s no need—”
“Answer the questions, or I’m calling 911 right now.”
Gage huffed a sigh. “It started while we were working today.”
“It’s getting worse?”
“A little, yeah.” His voice was tight.
“Do you have any history of heart problems?”
Gage shook his head. “No.”
Noah snapped out the rest of his questions at a rapid pace. “High blood pressure? High cholesterol?”
“No.”
“What meds do you take?”
“I don’t take any meds. I don’t trust doctors.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Noah muttered. “So, tell me about your pain. What does it feel like?”
