Sela paused, gave a subtle cast of her eyes heavenward, and called, “Ben Jernigan.” Then she closed her eyes and seemed to be waiting for something.
“What? Stud Muffin Hardbody is here?”
“She’s on pain pills,” she murmured to him, her cheeks heating. “We got her in the shower today, and had to give her an extra dose afterward to knock down the pain. Since she broke her leg she’s had two moods: inappropriate and cantankerous. You can guess which one she’s in now.”
Olivia was giggling on the couch, and she called, “Gran, behave!”
“I am behaving! What I want to do is throw something because I’m stuck in this damn bedroom by myself. Olivia, you didn’t hear that.”
“Yes I did.”
“And . . . the mood just flipped to cantankerous.” Sela gave him a small smile. “You may want to run.”
He’d faced worse things than a pill-fueled granny . . . maybe.
“You have to stay for supper,” said Barb, turning to smile at him. “It isn’t anything fancy, just beef stew and corn bread, but there’s plenty of it.”
His first reaction was to refuse; habit was habit. His second reaction was to remember the woman standing right there beside him, and he said, “Thanks, I’d like that.” Then he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the can he’d put there. “I brought this. Figured you could use some bacon.”
Sela went still, staring at the can in his hand. Barb wheeled away from the fire, the forgotten spoon in her hand dripping liquid on the floor. Olivia bolted off the couch. “Bacon,” she said in a reverent tone as she came to stand beside him, then in astonishment added, “Bacon in a can?”
“Yeah. It’s all I use.” He held out the can of Yoder’s to Sela and she took it as carefully as if it was made of the finest crystal.
“Well, my goodness. I’ve never seen bacon in a can before.” Barb came over and peered at it. “How do you cook it?”
“It’s already cooked, but you can crisp it up the normal way.”
“What’s going on out there?” Carol hollered.
“He brought bacon!” Barb yelled back.
“Bacon! Damn it! I’m stuck in here and y’all are out there with bacon—”
Ben sighed. Obviously the only way to settle down the granny was with bold action. He wanted to spend time with Sela and he couldn’t with her aunt constantly yelling from the next room. “Is she decent?” he asked Sela.
“She has clothes on, if that’s what you’re asking. I wouldn’t go any further than that.” A tiny smile twitched at the corners of her mouth.
In battle Ben had learned that action, even if it was the wrong action, was better than inaction. Silently he strode in the direction of the uproar, which broke off as soon as he walked through the bedroom door. The woman in the bed gaped at him, her eyes and mouth wide. Yeah, he recognized her, knew the improbable—now fading—pink streak in her hair. She was covered with a sheet and a blanket, her splinted leg propped on a couple of pillows. Silently he went to the side of the bed, bent, and scooped her up, covers and all. Carrying her out, he asked, “Where do I put her?”
“Right here,” Sela said swiftly, pulling out a chair at the table and turning it to the side, then pulling out another one on which her aunt’s broken leg could be propped. “If she’s going to be in here, she might as well eat at the table with us.” Ben deposited the woman in the chair and carefully supported the broken leg until Sela had the other chair and some cushions arranged. “Is that comfortable?” she asked her aunt, leaning forward to straighten and tuck the covers around her. Ben watched her long dark hair slide over her shoulder, and thought about it sliding over his pillow. Instantly he pulled himself away from that topic, otherwise he’d be standing there with an obvious erection.
“I guess,” the woman said, still staring at Ben. She held out her hand. “I’m Carol Allen.”
“Glad to meet you.” He took her hand. “I’m Stud Muffin Hardbody.”
She didn’t blink. Instead she said, “Oh honey, if you only knew the other names I’ve called you.”
“You don’t want to know,” Sela said to him.
He took her word for it. He looked around, feeling a little awkward, but she indicated another chair at the table and he settled into it. In short order an iron skillet of corn bread was set