A Promise Of Home (A Lake Howling Novel Book 1) (3 page)

“Hey, Branna, remember me?”

Her focus wasn’t great, but the green eyes eventually settled on him. “Jacob McBride.”

“Penny told me you hit your head, and she thought you may need to visit the doctor?”

“No…thanks,” she tacked on the last word reluctantly, then started to close the door.

Bracing a hand on the wood, he leaned in a little. “Your head looks like it’s hurting you, Rosebud.”

“It’s fine, now go away,” her words didn’t pack too much of a punch because she was whispering; obviously, the effort of speaking was not helping her condition.

“You still got that attitude working for you, O’Donnell.” Jamming a foot in the door to stop her shutting it further, he gently pushed it open, sending her back a step.

“Please, leave my house.” This time, her words had a bit more force, even though they were said through her teeth.

“Yeah, give me a minute and I’ll do just that, Rosebud.” He watched as she staggered backward and then lowered herself into a chair, the effort making her wince.

“Branna or Miss O’Donnell, my name is not Rosebud.”

“Your fault. You introduced yourself that first day in class as Branna Rose, and it stuck.”

“We’re not in school anymore, McBride.”

“Tell me about the pain in your head, Branna,” Jake said, ignoring her words, as he pulled out his mobile and switched on the flashlight app before moving to squat before her. Once there, he pried open the eyelids she’d recently closed and shined the light into them. Her pupils didn’t react as they should as he flashed the light across them. In fact, the pupils weren’t constricting at all. “Vision blurred?”

“What are you doing?” She tried to bat his hands away, but he didn’t move. Instead, he eased her forward to inspect the cut on the back of her head. “Take your hands off me.”

“I don’t go for skinny, belligerent women,” Jake lied, regaining his feet to walk around the back of the chair to get a closer look. Penny had said her legs were fine, and he couldn’t disagree; they were long and shapely coming out of those ragged cut-offs, and she filled that shirt out nicely too. “You have way too much hair,” he muttered, parting the thick mass of black curls until he saw it. Not huge, maybe an inch, but it was matted with blood and may need a stitch.

“Ouch! Stop, that hurts.” She tried to push his hands aside again.

“Surely you’re not still pissed with me for reshaping your eraser into a phallic symbol?” he was moving over her body now, checking for other injuries. Reaching her left wrist, her breath hissed.

“Why are you doing this to me, McBride?”

“Because Penny asked me to, and while I’m not big on interacting with anyone much these days, here in Howling, when a friend asks you to do something, you usually end up doing it, no matter how reluctant you are,” Jake added. “Does your wrist hurt to move it?” he questioned. It was definitely damaged, but he didn’t know how badly.
The most common wrist bone to break or fracture is the carpal bone. Symptoms sometimes include pain and swelling around the wrist.
Okay, fuck, will you let up?

“Yes, now leave.”

“But you’re such good company.” He moved around the house until he found one of Georgie’s scarves hanging from the coat stand. He quickly fashioned a sling for her, then slipped her arm through it. When he finished, she made a gagging sound.

“You going to be sick, Rosebud?”

She pushed at his chest and tried to rise, but he simply lifted her into his arms and took her to the bathroom. Raising the toilet seat, he lowered her to the floor, then stood back as she threw up.

“Is there no end to this humiliation?” she whispered when it was over. Sitting back on her heels, she tried to glare up at him, but failed miserably. She was shaking and pale, and he didn’t want to feel sorry for her, but he did.

Rinsing a washcloth, he then wiped her face.

“Now, I want you to listen to me, Rosebud, because you were an intelligent girl in high school and unless you did drugs or some other substance abuse, I can’t imagine your brain capacity has dimmed too much.” Jake squatted before her so their eyes were on the same level.

“I was an English professor,” she whispered.

“There you go,” Jake added, wiping her face again. “So, you should get that you need to see a doctor, because you have a concussion and while I don’t think your arm is broken, it sure as hell is not right.”

“You a doctor or something?”

“Or something,” he lifted her into his arms, which wasn’t too hard, as she didn’t weigh much.

“P-put me down.” Her words were weak and he ignored them. “Where are you taking me?”

“I think we just covered that.” He gave her a quick look as he walked back out through the door he had just entered.

Her eyes were the color of fresh cut grass, so bright they’d always given him a jolt, and he remembered that her jet-black hair had always been plaited in a long fat braid down her back. No ribbons or clips, just a plain black band had secured it at the bottom. She’d had no soft edges in school, just a belligerent girl with a serious attitude and that air of sadness that had clung to her. Of course, everything changed when she had a microphone in her hand. The girl had sung like an angel.

It had always amazed Jake that she chose to join the school band, yet avoided communicating with other students whenever possible. He’d watched her once, being dragged in by Newman, because he had the hots for some girl doing backup vocals and playing the tambourine. He’d been shocked when Branna had stepped up to the microphone. Seeing Annabelle playing keyboards told him who was responsible for her appearance, but nothing had prepared him for her voice; all the hair on the back of his neck had risen when she sang her first note.

“No, I won’t go to the doctor.” She was trying to get out of his arms now, but he was bigger, so he just tightened his hold. “I don’t like them.”

“Don’t be foolish, Branna.”

She squinted up at him as they walked out into the sunshine. “How did you know about my fall?”

“Penny told me.”

“She had no right; now put me down.” She was squirming against him.

“You’re starting to annoy me now, so quit it.”

“I don’t know the doctor here, and I don’t want some quack touching me.”

“I’ll be sure to tell my mother that.” Jake pulled open the passenger door.

“Your mom’s still the doctor here?”

“Sure is,” Jake said, as he put her on the seat and did up her seat belt. Closing the door, he sprinted around the truck to get into the driver’s seat, because he couldn’t rule out the fact that she might try to get out. Starting the car, he backed out just as she got the door open.

“What are you going to do, jump?”

She slammed it shut, then moaned.

“I bet that hurt your wrist?”

“Go to hell.”

“What’s your problem with doctors, O’Donnell?”

“I don’t like medical people.”

Jake shot her a look as he backed out of the driveway. She was huddled against the door, shivering and pale. Sighing, he pulled the blanket out from beneath the seat and laid it over her.

“My mother’s a good doctor, Rosebud and I can personally guarantee she has no rusty needles or thumb screws in her rooms…and she’s got a great bedside manner.”

“I don’t remember her place. Does it have that bad smell?”

Pulling out of her street, he headed back into town before answering that strange question.

“No, it smells clean and has nice beige walls and magazines dated before 2010.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“But you need to,” he added.

Jake reached Howling and lifted his hand to acknowledge Ben Tiller, who stood at the curb waiting to cross. He watched the man’s eyes flick from Jake to the top of Branna’s head and back. Frowning, Jake drove on. By tomorrow, there would be questions, and he was fairly sure by the end of it he’d be sick of fielding them…such was life in a small town. He’d have to lay low for a few days until something else fired up their thirst for gossip.

“I’m an adult; you can’t make me go if I don’t want to.”

“Well, now, Rosebud that sure as hell sounded like an adult talking.” Swinging into the driveway next to The Howler, he drove for a few minutes down the long winding concrete strip, then turned into the parking lot in front of Yelp Medical Facility. Climbing out, Jake went around the hood to open the passenger door. It was locked. Pulling the keys, he had just pocketed back out with a loud sigh, he unlocked it, and opened the door. “Real mature, O’Donnell.”

“I hate you.” He could barely hear the whispered words as he bent to slip his hands beneath her thighs and pick her up. She was shaking so hard he could feel it through her entire body. This was about more than concussion; this was a reaction to fear, plain and simple and he had firsthand knowledge of fear and what it could do to you if you let it take root.

“Ungrateful is what you are, Rosebud and me being a good Samaritan and all.”

“I can walk,” were the next words out of her mouth, which made him snort. She was shaking and her breathing was now a rasp. “I have to tell you something.” Her head lay on his chest as he walked towards the doors.

“I’m listening.”

“I’m scared of doctors, hospitals, clinics, needles, and anything to do with all of the above.”

“No kidding.”

“F-fuck you, McBride.”

“That took me straight back to twelfth grade.”

“Pl-please, don’t make me go in there,” she whispered.

He looked down at her and the terror in her eyes made something jolt inside him.

“They’re good people in here, Rosebud; they’ll be gentle…I promise.”

Her good hand suddenly grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “Don’t think I can do this.”

“Trust me.”

She tilted her head back to look up at him as he opened the doors. “Why?”

“Because I give you my word that no one inside these walls will harm you in any way.” He’d said the words solemnly, almost as if they were an oath.

“I’ll try.” After that, she rested her head on his chest again, but didn’t relax any. In fact, the knuckles on the fist she had in his shirt were white.

“This is my favorite shirt, O'Donnell; you rip it, you buy a new one.”

“It smells.”

“Sweat, baby, pure and natural essence of McBride.”

Using the hand under her to turn the handle, Jake nudged it with his foot and walked inside. He put Branna in one of the waiting room chairs, the one furthest from the doors, in case she got the urge to make a run for it, and then made his way up to the reception desk.

“Mom busy, Cici?”

“Her next appointment just canceled. She and Annabelle are going over supplies.”

Jake looked behind him at Branna, who was slumped in her chair, face the color of paper, hands shaking, looking like a puppy locked outside in the rain.

“I’ll take Branna through if you want to get some forms ready.”

“Sure thing.”

“I can walk,” Branna said, taking the hand he held out to her. He pulled her upright, then slipped an arm around her side as she swayed a little. His mother’s office wasn’t far and he saw her blonde head bent over the desk with Annabelle’s darker one as they entered.

“Heard things were quiet, so I’ve drummed you up some business.”

Both women looked up as he spoke. His mother smiled, Annabelle frowned, and Branna whispered the words, “I’m going to die.”

CHAPTER TWO

Branna’s head was thumping, and her arm ached as they walked into the doctor’s office, but all she could feel was terror. Horror that the words in her head had come out of her mouth made her want to turn into the big body at her side and beg him to take her out of here, beg him to hold her tight, so the fear didn’t make her do or say more foolish things.

“Well, now, my day has suddenly brightened, Annabelle, because here comes one of the most handsome men in all of Howling.”

The lady walking towards Branna looked familiar; the blond hair was streaked with gray, and she was tall with big shoulders. She hadn’t changed much since Branna’s father had forced her to visit the doctors years ago when she’d fallen ill. She had the smile and face of an angel, but to Branna, she could easily pass for the devil. She remembered thinking that Doctor McBride, like all doctors, had that pleasant façade, but underneath she’d be like the others, and soon cause her pain.

“No bias involved either,” she heard someone drawl. Looking at the desk, she saw another woman, who, on closer inspection, she remembered very well. Annabelle Smith.

“None.” Doctor McBride gave her son a smacking kiss on the cheek before looking at Branna. She flinched as the woman lifted a hand towards her, pathetic person that she was. She then turned her face and buried it into the large warm chest at her side.

“Get me out of here, Jake, please,” Branna begged.

“This is Branna O’Donnell, Mum,” the beast said, wrapping an arm around her waist as she tried to leave. “She had an accident. Seems she got knocked over and hit her head hard and hurt her wrist.” Branna knew there would be all kinds of silent signals going on over her head, but she didn’t care; her eyes were shut and she was pressed into a solid chest, even if it was Jake McBride’s. Closing her eyes, she tried to put herself somewhere else, like she’d done after the accident. A place where there was no more pain.

“Branna, honey, I’ve had personal experience with that chest, and I know it’s a fine place to rest, but you really need to let me look you over now,” Doctor McBride said.

Oh, God.

Her hands gripped Jake’s shirt again, as she looked up; she couldn’t help it. At least if she was anchored to him, in some weird way, she thought maybe she would stay safe.

“Your head hurting you, Branna?”

“It’s killing her,” Jake answered for her.

“Hey, Branna, remember me?”

Opening her eyes, she looked into the face of the other woman in the room who had once been her only friend in Howling.

“Annabelle, you know I-I have to go, that I can't stay here.”

Annabelle Smith was tall with golden brown hair that tended to curl in the rain and brown eyes that melted when she saw animals. Well, they once had anyway, and she was also one of the few people who knew why Branna was terrified of doctors.