The Keeper of the House Finds His Wee One - Rescue for Hire West 3 http://www.bookstrand.com/book/the-keeper-of-the-house-finds-his-wee-one
Garrett
followed Flyer to the kitchen but turned to the left and went down the hall
toward his suite of rooms. The door across from his bedroom was open. Standing
in the doorway, he observed the whirl of activities in the once vacant large
room.
Rescue for
Hire West’s medics, Reese and Parker, were on one side of the bed with big Jack
on the other. They were all bent over the victim, arranging pillows under and
along his casts and bandaged-covered limbs. Pip was setting a pitcher of water
and a clear glass containing a straw on the table next to the bed.
As one, the
three men around the bed straightened and took a step back, giving Garrett his
first look at Tolliver Holiday.
Eyes. For a
few seconds, that’s all Garrett saw. The blue color was made even more
startling by the bright red surrounding them where the whites of the man’s eyes
should be. Those broken blood vessels, along with the dark purples, greens, and
morbid yellow bruises encircling the man’s neck told Garrett that Tolliver had
been choked almost to the point of death. Garret’s gaze took in the black and
blue bruises surrounding each eye, reminding him of a raccoon’s mask.
Tolliver’s nose
was red and misshapen but didn’t lean to one side or the other. It was clearly
broken, but from experience, Garrett could see it wouldn’t be lumpy or
disfigured once it healed.
There wasn’t
much of Tolliver’s face that wasn’t bruised and swollen, including his chin and
cheekbones. Puffy lips covered in healing scabs showed where stitches had
pieced the fragile skin back together. Garrett remembered Roman saying the
victims had been hit with a bat during their capture. The painful looking
deeply red lump running from Tolliver’s temple back into his light brown hair
added to the picture of the violence inflicted on this man.
The rest of
Tolliver’s body was covered with a sheet. Even with the pillows surrounding
him, Tolliver wasn’t half as wide as most of the men in the room.
Curled up on
the end of the bed was the cutest tiny dog Garrett had ever seen. Big brown
eyes stared at him as a thin little tail moved tentatively.
Garrett
couldn’t resist. Walking to the bed, he leaned over and held out the back of
his hand for the dog to sniff. “Well hello, my tiny one. Aren’t you sweet?”
The little dog
sniffed Garrett’s hand while its tail slapped the sheet. A soft pink tongue
snuck out and licked Garrett, turning his heart to mush.
“His name is
Bentley.”
Outwardly,
Garrett didn’t react to the hoarse, croaking whisper. Inside, his mind was
going over the contents of his pantry. He knew of several things that could
help the small man in the bed feel more comfortable.
“Bentley it is
then.” Garrett smiled, ready to give the little dog a bit more of attention.
Pausing,
Garrett watched the man in the bed stare at him. That was when it happened. He
didn’t know what Tolliver Holiday looked like under the bruises. He hadn’t said
more than a few words to him. Hell, he didn’t even know if the man was gay. But
as they continued to gaze into each other’s eyes, need filled Garrett’s being.
He needed to
get to know Tolliver. He needed to protect him and keep him close. Needs Garret
couldn’t comprehend were flooding through him until he was so swamped he struggled
to breathe.
“Are you real,
or are you a gift brought on by the drugs?” The faint whisper reached Garrett’s
ears.
Relief eased
the ball of emotions that had threatened to overwhelm Garrett. It seemed the
man was also feeling this, something. Never before had this happened to him.
Kneeling down on one knee next to the bed, Garrett put his hand on the blankets
close to, but not touching, Tolliver. At this point he didn’t know of any place
he could touch the man with causing him more pain.
“I’m real, wee
one,” he answered. Garrett was smiling so hard his cheek muscles hurt. He had
his answer on the gay issue. Again he became lost in Tolliver’s blue-eyed gaze.
Roman stepped
up next to Garrett, breaking the moment. “Tolliver, I’d like you to meet my
house manager, Garrett McKay. He’s also agreed to help you during your
recovery.”
“Hi.” Tolliver
grimaced when his arm moved under the sheet.
The attraction
was still simmering between them, but now the need to help Tolliver was
pressing Garrett into action. “Hello, Tolliver. Do you like tea?” Garrett had
some licorice root tea in the pantry. It would soothe Tolliver’s throat and
help with the swelling.
Tolliver’s
eyelids lowered in a slow blink before he nodded. The drugs and the trip to
Nevada were catching up to the poor man.
“How about you
take a nap, and when you wake up, I’ll have a nice cup of tea waiting for you?”
Garrett kept his tone light so Tolliver would stay relaxed enough to drift off.
Tolliver
managed a nod before his eyes stayed closed and he seemed to wilt into the bed.
Garrett stood
there and observed the bruised face made more grotesque by the cream-colored
bed linens surrounding it. A soft touch brought his attention down to a
wiggling tiny dog. Bentley’s large ears were lowered, and his tail was between
his legs. His little body trembled, and big brown eyes were begging.
It didn’t take
a scientist to know what the dog was asking. Scooping it up easily in one hand,
Garrett looked into the dog’s eyes and said, “Bentley, my man, I have a patch
of grass with your name on it.” He received a quick lick on the chin in return.
As he was
leaving the room with one of his new charges, Garrett looked over at the men
setting up medical equipment and supplies on a folding table Garrett had
brought in earlier. In a quiet tone so Tolliver wouldn’t be disturbed, he said,
“I know you want to get back up in the air to go home, but I have food set up
in the kitchen. I know Flyer was heading that way. Hopefully there’s some
left.”
After
receiving nods, Garrett hurried out of the room and down the hall. The little
mite cradled in his hand had started whimpering. Once outside Garrett walked to
the side of the house and set the little dog down. Bentley didn’t hesitate and
made quick work of thoroughly watering a small wrought-iron statue of a cowboy.
Garrett
continued to wait as, in typical dog fashion, Bentley sniffed out interesting
scents in the grass. Finally he got down to the big event Garrett had been
waiting for. After he finished, he trotted over to Garrett looking chipper and
pleased with himself.
“All right, my
tiny one, you did well.” Garrett picked up the little dog while making a mental
note to put a pooper-scooper on the shopping list. “Let’s get you back to your
owner. We don’t want him to get upset if he wakes up and you aren’t there.”
Garrett
walked over to where Roman was standing
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