Tight-Fittin' Jeans

“How much damage?” Tiffany hated asking that question, but she had no choice. She might as well know the good, the bad and the ugly now as later.

“She’s partially paralyzed, though the doctor says it’s not permanent.”

“What can I do to help?”

Jeremiah hemmed and hawed, then finally said, “I was wondering if it’s possible for you to take some vacation time and baby-sit Taylor. I can’t leave Bridget, and my aunt’s not able to keep Taylor. She’s had a slight stroke, and...” He hesitated. “I wouldn’t ask, but—”

“I’d be insulted if you hadn’t.” And Tiffany meant it, even though she didn’t have any vacation time left. Maybe all wasn’t lost Maybe this unexpected twist of events was the answer to her problem.

She could resign, then look for another job when she returned from Utah. Although her savings account was far from what she wanted it to be, it wasn’t all that shabby. If she had to, she could dip into that, then replace what she’d used.

“Tiffany?”

“I’m on my way.”

With that, she replaced the receiver, then listened as her heart banged against her rib cage. Even though she was concerned for her friend, she suddenly felt like a prisoner who had just been released from death row.

“Yes, yes, yes!”

She left her office and headed straight for Hazel’s, a bounce in her steps.

Two

Tiffany stood in the small hospital room in Hurricane, where Bridget had been taken following the accident, though Tiffany had yet to talk to her. A lab tech was in the process of drawing blood from Bridget’s arm.

Unable to watch the procedure, Tiffany kept her eyes averted. Needles gave her the willies, especially when they were used to penetrate the skin.

She had contemplated going to the ranch first and dumping her bags. But in her eagerness to see for herself that her friend was not critical, she had rented a car at the airport and come straight here.

Jeremiah had insisted on meeting her flight, but she’d insisted otherwise, pointing out that he needn’t be concerned about her, that he had enough on his plate at the moment. As if he’d realized she was as headstrong as his wife, he’d let out a sigh and given in.

Now, as Tiffany continued to wait, she peered out the window into a park, serene and breathtakingly lovely with cotton wood, pecan and mulberry trees galore. She had forgotten just how beautiful this part of the country was, even in July. When she stepped outside at the airport, she had felt the incredible heat, but it wasn’t that humid, cloying heat that was so much a part of southeast Texas.

Yet she wouldn’t trade Texas for Utah, not in this lifetime, anyway. She had to smile, still unable to comprehend how her socialite friend, Bridget, had managed to adapt so well. Tiffany sighed out loud. She guessed love had brought about that miracle.

Thank God she was immune from that bug biting her, especially if it meant she had to remain in these parts. Tiffany made a face. Oh, Hurricane, which was a fairly nice-size town, was all right. In fact, compared to Pennington, where Bridget and Jeremiah lived, it was a thriving metropolis. Still, there was nothing in either place for her except her dear friend.

Living in the woods, off the land, was not for her. As soon as she had fulfilled her loving obligation, she would be gone, back to the bright lights.

“Tiff, you made it.”

At the sound of Bridget’s voice, Tiffany swung around. She didn’t move, though, until the nurse and lab tech had left. Then she made her way toward the bed. But at the sight of her friend’s pinched features, Tiffany’s forthcoming smile didn’t materialize. Under close scrutiny, Bridget seemed a mere shadow of her former self.

Tiffany. hadn’t seen Bridget since she married Jeremiah, which was a year ago now. Bridget’s short red hair had been vibrant, and her brown eyes had been alive with fire and humor. Both had diminished to a shocking degree.

A chill darted through Tiffany. Had Jeremiah glossed over the situation? Was Bridget’s condition much worse than he’d let on? Tiffany knew that he loved his wife more than life itself and couldn’t contemplate the thought of her being less than whole. Perhaps that thought alone accounted for his inability to face facts.

Tiffany, forcing a smile, stepped closer to the bed. Despite Bridget’s obvious attempt to reciprocate the smile, her mouth was pinched with pain.

“Hi, sweetie,” Tiffany said, leaning closer and brushing Bridget’s warm cheek with her lips.

Bridget grabbed her friend’s hand, tears filling her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was afraid you couldn’t come. Or wouldn’t.”

“Hogwash,” Tiffany responded in a low voice, all the while fighting back her own tears. If she gave in and boo-hooed the way she wanted to, the room would wash away. Besides, now was not the time to let her emotions have free rein. She had to maintain a brave front, for Bridget’s sake. “Nothing short of two broken legs would’ve kept me away.”

“I can believe that. When you make up your mind, you’re the stubbornest, most hardheaded person I know.”

“All I can say is, it takes one to know one.”

They both chuckled then fell silent.

Tiffany was the first to break that silence. “So, where do you go from here?”

“To a specialty hospital in Vegas, where they’re going to put me in traction for heaven only knows how long—several weeks, I imagine.”

“Stretch the old bod, huh? Ouch!”

“I know,” Bridget said in a wan tone. “I can’t tell you how badly I dread it, but I have to get well, and not just for myself, either. There’s Jeremiah and Taylor.”

Tiffany heard the desperation in her friend’s voice, and it broke her heart. “Shh...dvn’t work yourself up into a dither. You’re going to be just fine. And you do want to get well for yourself. Why, you know you’re irreplaceable on the end of that hoe. From what I understand, you’ve developed magic in them there fingers.”

Bridget rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. It would be closer to the truth to say that Jeremiah tolerates my crooked rows and merely turns his head when I mistake plants for weeds and chop them down.”

“Oh, well,” Tiffany said with a grin, “I bet he prefers your other talents to that one, such as your ability to cook a mean Lean Cuisine.”

“If I live to be an old lady leaning on a cane, I’ll never live that one down.”

“You sure won’t.”

“So, how long can you stay?” Bridget asked.

“As long as I’m needed.”

“Thank God. I hate leaving Taylor. She’s upset, and—”

“Hey, she’s going to be just fine. Aunt Tiffany’s going to see to that. We’ll be big buddies before you know it. All you have to do is get well.”

“I feel like such an idiot. If I’d been concentrating on my driving instead of the carnival at Taylor’s play school, then I wouldn’t have had the accident.”

“What exactly happened? I haven’t had a chance to talk to Jeremiah about the details.”

“I was blinded by the sun, and before I knew it, I was looking at the rear of a school bus. In order not to hit it, I veered, then lost control. The next thing I knew I was skidding down an embankment, straight for a tree.”

“God, you’re lucky it didn’t mangle your insides.”

“I credit my seat belt with saving my life.” Bridget paused. “Still, I have a long way to go before I’ll be one hundred percent.” Her voice broke. “I was hoping to get pregnant, and now that’s out of the question.”

“For now, but not forever. Just remember that. Besides, you’re like me. You’re a fighter. In a few months, your curvy bod will be as good as new.”