Chapter 11
1001 Words
Finding out someone wanted you dead was a lot easier when you had somebody to lean on. When Brandon called his office and told them he would be at home for the rest of the day, Nate almost wept with relief.
In less than twenty-four hours, Brandon Nash had gone from perfect stranger to pillar of strength. Every time Nathan tried to sink into himself, Bran was there to pull him right back out.
Finally, after hours spent dealing with the insurance company and worrying about why he still hadn’t heard from Mike and Amy, Nate was ragged to the point of exhaustion.
He made no protest when Brandon led him upstairs and tucked him into bed. He was asleep before Brandon could close the door behind him.
During his years at Atlanta Northern, Nate learned how to sleep through almost anything. Sleeping in the on-call room was something every doctor did at one time or another, especially a doctor in charge of critically ill newborns whose condition could take a turn for the worse at any given moment.
Despite all that conditioning, Nate came awake with a start the minute he felt cool fingertips fluttering across his forehead. He opened his eyes expecting to see Brandon, not a five-foot female with red hair and eyes the same color as the sheriff’s.
“Sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to wake you up. I was just checking to make sure you don’t have a fever. Brandon said you threw-up this morning.”
“Yes ma’am, I did, but—”
“I know. All that blood would have made me sick, too. I could just about throttle that son of mine for taking you into such a mess in the first place. And you with a head injury, too.”
“Your son?”
“Yes, of course. Brandon—” She stopped for a minute. “Good grief. I forgot to even introduce myself. I’m Gale Nash, Brandon’s mother.”
Gale was a beauty. To look at her, no one would guess she was pushing sixty. She was short and trim, with a pixie’s face and the same dazzling smile as Brandon. Nate fell in love with her at once.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m—”
“Nathan Morris, but Brandon calls you Nate.”
“Yes, ma’am, he does.”
Gale sat down in the chair next to the bed. “So, sweetie, how are you holding up?”
“I’m alright.”
“No offense, Nathan, but I’m a mother, and I can tell when one of my children is just telling me what I want to hear. You, my boy, are definitely not alright.”
Nate was about to argue when those damn tears started up. Before he knew it, he was being held and rocked against a warm breast that smelled of Channel Number Five and allspice.
The comfort of the scents and the feel of being held by a mother, even if she wasn’t his own, was too much for Nate. He sobbed like a man whose heart was breaking.
When he was finally able to pull himself together, Gale handed him a tissue and waited patiently while he swabbed his eyes and blew his nose.
“Mrs. Nash, I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“First of all, you can call me Gale, or Mom, but not Mrs. Nash. Mrs. Nash is my mother-in-law, a lovely woman, but not exactly how I see myself yet. In twenty years, maybe. Second of all, you don’t have a thing in this world to be sorry for. I’m sure if your mother were here, she would do the same thing.”
Nate shook his head. “No, ma’am, she wouldn’t. My parents disowned me when they found out I was gay.”
Gale reached over and squeezed Nate’s hand. “In that case, I hope you’ll consider us your family. You already know Brandon and Keith. When you’re feeling better, I’ll introduce you to the whole clan. Right now, though, I want you to try and go back to sleep.
Those dark circles under your eyes are just screaming for some rest. After your nap, come downstairs and eat some of the supper I brought for you and Brandon. I swear that boy doesn’t know how to fix anything that doesn’t come in a plastic tray.”
As she was leaving, Nate said, “Gale?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Thanks.”
“That’s what family is for, Nate.”
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