Chapter 7
"Jarrod? Jarrod?"
The fog lifted at the sound of his name, and he realized with a start that he had fallen asleep. He jumped. Hands held him down.
"Take it easy there, Pappy, you're all right."
Pappy? Nobody called him that except his brothers. Jarrod opened his eyes and, happily, focused on two familiar faces. "That's more like it," Heath said. "How are you feeling?"
Jarrod didn't know how they had gotten there or even what day it was. He only knew his head hurt. He reached and found a bandage.
Nick took hold of his arm and pulled it gently down. "You gave us a scare, big brother."
Jarrod took a deep breath. "When did you get here?"
"Just now," Nick said. "Got in on the overnight train. We stopped by your office to tell your secretary we were here to look after you."
"What day is it?"
"The day after you got clobbered."
"We got here as fast as we could," Heath said.
Jarrod looked confused for a bit longer, but then his foggy eyes cleared. "My house – "
"We'll head over there in a bit," Nick said.
Jarrod reached. Heath took his hand. "There was a girl – a waitress – a man threw coffee in her face and she was burned – she's here in the hospital, too. Can you find her, see how she is?"
"All right, we'll find her, as soon as we're sure you're still with us," Heath said.
"I'm all right," Jarrod said, closing his eyes again. "Head hurts, that's all."
"So you got kicked in the head helping a pretty girl, huh?" Nick asked.
"Looks like it," Jarrod said. "I fell asleep. I wasn't supposed to fall asleep."
"You're all right," Heath said. "The doctor said you could probably go home today or tomorrow."
Jarrod chuckled a little. "Does he know I don't have a home to go to?"
Nick said, "We're gonna take care of that for you, too. We'll find you a place to rent for a while that's better than a hotel room. We'll dig up your insurance man and work things out with him."
Jarrod sighed. "I'm awfully glad you're here. Now, go, please, go and find that waitress. I don't know her name. Just find her and let me know how she is. I'm afraid she's burned."
"Okay, we'll find her," Nick said.
Jarrod heard Heath talk to Nick, saying something like "I'll go check on her, you stay with Jarrod. I don't think we ought to leave him alone."
"I'm all right," Jarrod said.
"Yeah, you look great," Nick said. "A nice big bandage and a nice big bruise spreading all over the side of your face. You're downright pretty."
Jarrod opened his eyes to see Heath leave but Nick stay behind. He saw Nick sit down in a chair next to him. He realized Nick had hold of his hand. Jarrod sighed again. "I'm glad you're here, Nick."
"I may be a blowhard at times, but this is where I want to be, Jarrod," Nick said. "I'm sorry for that battle we had."
"Me, too," Jarrod said. "Let's just call a peace treaty until we have at it over something else, all right?"
"The Robinson boys are out of jail," Nick said. "Mother and Audra dropped the charges."
Jarrod smiled. "That's good. I'd gloat if my head didn't hurt so bad."
"That's what you get for playing the hero."
"A knee-jerk reaction. The s.o.b. threw hot coffee into her face – I wasn't gonna let him get out the door and disappear. They got him, didn't they?"
"I don't know. We can check on that later."
"Do Mother and Audra know what happened?"
"Not all the details, but yes. We'll wire them again in a bit. Right now, we'll wait and see what your doctor says about getting you out of here."
"If I have to be able to walk straight before they'll let me out, I might be here for a while."
"If you need to stay, you stay. We'll see to your house and find you someplace else to live. We can do that while you're in here."
"I'd just like to know that girl is all right. Her face is burned, Nick."
Nick understood everything that meant and why Jarrod was upset. A woman with a scarred face had little chance for a life in this world. No one would love her. No one would give her a job. "Heath will check on her, and we'll talk about her later. Don't worry. We'll work on everything and we'll get you walking straight and out of here."
Jarrod sighed and squeezed his brother's hand. "Thanks, Nick."
XXXXXXX
It took Heath a while, but he finally found who the waitress was and where she was. He tracked her down to a ward at the other end of the hospital from where Jarrod was, and he found her in a bed there. Her name was Priscilla Mills, and when he found her, she was lying with her eyes closed, her face unbandaged but red with burns that were covered with some kind of ointment. "Miss Mills?" Heath asked softly.
She opened her eyes. She looked confused. "Yes? Who are you?"
Heath sat down on a chair beside her. "My name is Heath Barkley. My brother Jarrod tried to catch the man who hurt you."
"Oh, yes," she said. "They told me about that. He's here in the hospital, isn't he? He was hurt."
"Concussion, but he's gonna be all right," Heath said.
"That's good," she said.
"He was worried about you. He wanted me to see how you were."
She sighed, but she didn't say anything. Heath realized she didn't know how to answer. She probably understood her face was burned and what that meant.
Heath felt terrible for her. "Is there anyone I can talk to for you? Any family or people you work for?"
She shook her head. "No family. The people I work for have already been here. They're decent people, but they won't hold my job for me. They can't afford to, and even after I get better – well, you can see how it is."
Heath found himself taking her hand. Her face was red in ugly splotches where the hot coffee had hit her. What was going to happen to her? No family, no job, no nothing.
Heath said, "My brother lives here in San Francisco – well, at least until his house blew up the other day – "
Her eyes flew open. "His house blew up?"
Heath chuckled a little. "Brother Jarrod is having a run of bad luck, it seems. He wouldn't have even been in your café except he was staying at the Baldwin because of his house – but sometimes bad luck can have some good in it."
"I don't see how this is good for either one of us, Mr. Barkley," Priscilla said.
"Call me Heath," he said.
"Call me Cilla, then," she said.
"Listen," Heath said. "Our brother Nick and I are gonna be here for a while looking after Jarrod. We'll be happy to see about helping you along, too. We're not gonna leave you high and dry – not after our brother got a couple kicks in the head because he cared about you."
"Heath, you don't have to worry about me," Cilla said.
"Worry isn't the right word," Heath said. "Concern, maybe. You're not alone, Cilla. We won't let you be alone."
Tears started coming, and she squeezed her eyes closed as she began to shake with sobbing. Heath squeezed her hand, and he thought as he did that there was something special about this girl. Young and alone, and yes, afraid, but not paralyzed. Something about her was not driven into the ground by an injury that could ruin her life, just because it disfigured her face, at least not yet. "Thank you," she said.
Heath couldn't help smiling a little. He didn't say anything, he just squeezed her hand.
