Calum glowered at her from his bed, his craggy face sullen in the dim light on the bedside table. “I know what time it is, lass. Dinnae treat me like my brain is broken just because my back is. I’m not a child to be told when to go to sleep.”
Bethany slanted her eyes pointedly at the wall. “Well, if you don’t want to be treated like a child, perhaps it would be best if you didn’t act like one.” She went into his adjoining bathroom and got a wet cloth, kneeling down to start cleaning up the disgusting mass. “And by the way, Rosa just quit. I suppose you’re pleased with yourself.”
There was silence from the bed for a minute. Her father wasn’t stupid, just bad-tempered and frustrated. Finally he said, “I never liked that woman anyway. She was too bossy. You’ll just have to get someone else.”
“We’re running out of ‘someone else’s’ Dad,” Bethany said softly. “Home health aides don’t exactly grow on trees. And if you want me to keep the bar going, that means someone has to be here to take care of you while I’m gone. You won’t let me get someone to live in, which means an aide on the nights I work late at the Hook and Anchor. You can’t have it both ways. If you’re determined to have me run the bar, you’re going to have to be nicer to the people who come in to take care of you.”
“I don’t want to be taken care of,” Calum shouted. “I don’t like having strangers in my house! And I don’t like being told what to do by a snip of a girl who thinks she’s too good to be running an honest business.”
Bethany had heard this litany more times than she could count, and she was too tired to argue. “Well, Dad, there’s a lot I don’t like about this situation either. And as neither of us is likely to get what we want tonight, I’m going to go to bed.” She stood up slowly, one hand wrapped around the soiled towel, and the other pressed against the small of her back. “I’ll see you in the morning. Try and get some rest.”
“I’ll rest when I’m dead,” her father muttered, turning off the light and easing himself back down on his pillows with a grunt of pain. “And if we’re both lucky, that will be soon.”
In the hallway, Bethany leaned against the wall and closed her eyes for a minute. She was never quite sure if her father really meant what he said about wanting to die or not. She wasn’t sure he knew either. But if he didn’t start eating, sleeping, and doing his exercises, she was afraid they were going to find out. And as difficult as the old man was, she really wasn’t ready for that.
Chapter 3
Alexei woke to the faint glimmer of sunshine coming through flowered curtains and the warm weight of a body next to his. For a moment, he was caught between the strangely erotic dreams he’d been having about a woman with flame-colored hair and the reality of a new day. Then he realized that the female sharing his unaccustomed bed had four legs, a bulging belly, and doggy breath, and the pieces fell back into place.
“Idiot beast,” he muttered, trying to move her out of the way without falling off a bed that was already too small for a man his size. “I thought you were supposed to sleep on the couch.”
Lulu lifted her head and licked his neck, then made her ungainly way down to the floor, looking pitifully at the doorway. “Out,” she whined. “Now.”
“Da, da, I’m coming,” Alexei said. He was never a morning person at the best of times, as his brothers had so often teasingly noted. Now he was hearing a dog talk. He needed coffee.
He tied his bedroll together and dropped it and his saddlebags next to the front door; he hadn’t bothered with the sheets his hostess had so kindly pointed out to him - way too much trouble for one night, and he wasn’t planning on staying any longer than that. Then he made his way to the back door and let the dog outside to do her business before scooping a generous helping of food into her bowl on the floor.
Unfortunately, a quick exploration of the kitchen didn’t turn up anything that resembled people food, and he wasn’t going to be fit to ride until he had at least one cup of coffee. Preferably a whole pot. Lulu had resumed her position on the couch, apparently worn out by the strenuous work of peeing and eating, so he left her lying there and walked up the narrow path to the main house. Hopefully Bethany was up and around, and he could beg a mug full of coffee before hitting the road.
The path led to a kitchen, empty at the moment, but the lights were on and the door was unlocked, and no one answered when he knocked, so he let himself in. He opened his mouth to call out when he heard the sound of a voice coming from the next room. It didn’t sound happy, so he halted in the doorway.
Bethany stood with her back toward him, already dressed for the day in jeans and a flannel shirt whose green and orange checks clashed endearingly with her hair. One hand held a phone up to her ear, the other was clenched into a fist down at her side.
“Are you sure?” she was saying to the person on the other end. “I realize he’s - ” The fist clenched tighter, the knuckles turning white. “Yes, I know you only have limited staff, but I can’t - ” A sigh. “Okay. I understand. Well, do the best you can. I appreciate it.” She tossed the phone down on the sofa and let loose with an impressive stream of rude words before turning around and realizing that Alexei was standing there.
“Crap,” she said. “Sorry.”
Alexei shrugged. “I came into your home uninvited. You owe me no apologies. Besides, I am not exactly a sensitive flower.”
Bethany snorted. “There’s an understatement. Did you need something? Is Lulu okay?”
“Lulu is fine. She hogged the bed all night, and has already gone outside and had breakfast,” Alexei did his best to look pitiful. “I was hoping I would be rewarded for my services with a cup of coffee.”
“Sure,” she said. “It’s on the counter in the kitchen. There are mugs right there. Help yourself.”
Alexei began to go back into the other room, then hesitated. “There is a problem?” Not that it was any of his business, but her obvious distress was hard to ignore.
“Multiple,” Bethany said with a grimace. “But at the moment, the crucial one is that my father chased off another home health aide last night, and the head of the agency just told me that the soonest he could get me more help is next week. And he’s not making any promises for then.”
“Your father is difficult to work with?”
“My father is a pain in the ass,” she said flatly. “But he also can’t be left alone all day. I get him up and dressed and fed in the mornings, and I have someone who opens the bar for me so I don’t have to go in until about two in the afternoon, but I can’t afford to pay anyone to run the place full time, whereas the aides are covered by insurance. So my father needs someone here until I get back, in theory to help him with his physical therapy exercises, although he won’t do them, and to give him his dinner, which he won’t eat. Plus, of course, there are fun things like getting him into the bathroom.”