The Rancher's First Love by Brenda Minton Page B

can’t, that’s when I’m walking out of this place,” Gus said as they walked through the front door.
    â€œIf you can walk on your own two feet, more power to you. And since you’re the man in charge, tell this nice receptionist why we’re here.”
    Gus gave the receptionist a charming smile followed by a wink and a tug on that mustache.
    â€œYoung lady, my grandson here can’t seem to get a date on his own so he wanted me to pretend to be elderly and tell you that I can’t seem to form a sentence.”
    â€œGus,” Remington warned.
    â€œMy grandson thinks I’ve had some kind of attack.”
    The receptionist asked a few more questions, and then directed them to a room down the hall. Within minutes they were joined by a nurse and then a doctor. There were questions about the symptoms of Gus’s attack, about his state of mind afterward. The doctor explained that he wanted to do tests and that he might possibly admit Gus overnight just to observe him. Two TIAs in two days wasn’t something they wanted to ignore.
    â€œDo you think they might feed me some lunch in this place?” Gus asked as they placed an IV. “My grandson didn’t even let me eat lunch.”
    â€œMr. Jenkins, we’ll get you something to eat,” a nurse soothed. “Let’s get you settled and we’ll have some broth.”
    Gus held up a hand. “I’ve got a hankering for chicken and I want it fried, not boiled and all the good stuff taken out.”
    Remington sighed.
    The nurse offered him a sympathetic look. “It’s okay. We’re used to this behavior. It might seem as if your grandfather isn’t acting himself but that can be a symptom of a TIA. You understand TIA, don’t you, Mr. Jenkins? Transient Ischemic Attack. It can be a precursor to a stroke, so we do want to take all necessary precautions.”
    Gus groaned. “I told you they’d talk to me like I’m five and you’re the adult.”
    â€œGus, you aren’t exactly being pleasant. Or mature.”
    â€œWell, you try getting stuck with a needle, being wrapped up in a paper gown with no back and see how pleasant you are. And I didn’t get lunch. My blood sugar levels haven’t been right, you know that.”
    â€œI’m going to get out of here so they can do the tests. I’ll be in the waiting room.”
    â€œYou’ll probably be at the cafeteria having fried chicken,” Gus called out to him as he left the room.
    Remington highly doubted the hospital cafeteria had fried chicken.
    When he got to the cafeteria, he found they did have a decent grilled fish. He ordered it and headed for a table at the back of the cafeteria. His phone rang as he sat down. It was his dad calling for an update. He filled them in, told them he didn’t think they needed to fly home, then he dug into the surprisingly edible lunch.
    When a tray plopped down across from his, he looked up. Sam glanced at the empty seat. “Mind if I join you?”
    â€œOf course you can.” His good Texas manners kicked in. He got up and pulled the chair out for her. She shot him a look over her shoulder, but she sat down anyway.
    â€œHow’s Gus doing?” she asked as she cut up her baked chicken.
    â€œHow’d you know?”
    â€œDuke called. He told me I might see you here.”
    â€œHe called to warn you?”
    She rolled her eyes. “No, he was worried about Gus.”
    â€œGus is okay. Well enough to argue and grumble.” He watched as she kept her head down as she tackled the chicken on her tray without seeming to really enjoy it. “Bad day on the children’s side?”
    She nodded and kept eating. One tear trickled down her cheek and she swiped it away. “I’m not sure if I’m cut out for this job.”
    â€œIt can’t be easy.”
    â€œIt isn’t.” She pushed aside her tray. “Rem, I’d like