West of Nowhere by K.G. MacGregor Page B

distress. “I was clear about what we expected. If she doesn’t work out, she’s on a plane back to Nashville, but that goes for her too…which means if you’re a jerk, she’ll leave and you’ll have to come back here. I can’t take care of you and go to work too.”
    A tall brunette wearing a colorful nurse’s smock swished past the door, and he yelled loudly, “If she can cook better than a one-eyed sailor on crack, it’ll be an improvement over this hellhole!”
    Nonplussed, the woman flipped him off behind her back and continued down the hall.
    “Your new girlfriend?”
    “She’s not so bad,” he answered smugly. “At least that one has a sense of humor. That’s more than I can say about the rest of these asshats.”
    A burly African-American with a nametag that read Roderick appeared in the doorway with a wheelchair. He checked his paperwork and asked, “Oliver Shepard?”
    “Call me Shep, and I brought my own wheels. Custom V-8 under the hood.”
    Joy chucked his good arm. “Behave yourself. It would be a shame if Roderick forgot to set the brake.”
    Roderick hesitated, clearly uncertain as to what sort of help he should render.
    “Let me,” Joy said. She rolled her father’s chair beside him, locked the wheels and lowered the electric bed so it was even with the chair. While he grasped the arm of the chair with his good arm, she clutched his belt on the injured side and gave him just enough lift to allow him to spin into the seat. “Okay, he’s all yours.”
    Her father glanced up at the orderly as they rolled out the door. “Hey, Roderick…help me with this footrest, will you?”
    * * *
     
    Amber dropped her cigarette in a soda can the moment she heard the car in the driveway on the side of the house. As Joy backed into the carport next to the Jeep, she contemplated whether to walk out and meet them or wait on the porch out of their way. Deciding it was best to show she was eager to get to work, she met Joy on the passenger side as she opened the door for her father.
    “Nice to meet you, Mr. Shepard.”
    “Please help me, little girl,” he pleaded. “I need to be in a hospital but my daughter won’t pay.”
    Startled, Amber looked suspiciously at Joy.
    “Knock it off, Pop, or I’ll take you right back there and dump you on the doorstep.”
    He looked anxiously at Amber and clasped his hands as if begging. “You won’t beat me like she does, will you?”
    Joy sighed and shoved his chair against the seat of the car. “Ignore him, Amber. I need to show you how to do a transfer. You ready?”
    Amber stepped closer, observing the strong muscles of the man’s forearm as he gripped the chair arm.
    “Grab his belt and pants right here at the hip and tug upward.” As she demonstrated, he swung himself into the chair.
    “Make sure you grab the side and not the back,” he said. “Otherwise you’ll give me a wedgie.”
    “You can feel free to do that if he gives you any trouble,” Joy went on, picking up a stack of laundry from the backseat. “Why don’t you go ahead and push him in?”
    Amber nearly tossed him out of the chair when she thrust him forward without first releasing the brake. “Sorry.”
    Joy walked ahead into the house.
    Halfway across the backyard, he said, “Hey, toots. I think Joy left my shoes in the backseat. Will you grab them for me?”
    “Sure.”
    She set the brake again and returned to the car, searching all about. “I don’t see them,” she called.
    “Maybe they’re in the trunk. There’s a button by the driver’s seat.”
    After accidentally releasing the hood, Amber finally located the proper latch and checked the contents of the trunk. There was a strongbox labeled Earthquake Kit, jumper cables, a toolbox and a spare wheelchair, but no shoes. “Nothing in here. Joy must have picked them up.”
    “No, I’m sure she didn’t. Did you look under the seat?”
    She went back and scoured the car. “Nope.”
    “Maybe she dropped them under the