Read One Track Mind for Free Online

mixed with the sweat. His eyes were so dark they seemed black, and they flashed in anger. “Let go of me, you little pip-squeak.”
    Pip-squeak? Nobody talked to her like that. Nobody. She yanked at him harder, trying to drag him back from the door.
    “Ouch!” he said involuntarily. “That hurts, dammit. You’re pushing a thorn right into me.”
    She lessened her pressure. “Then stop fighting. Look. The stupid trellis isn’t moving. It’s not going to fall any farther. So get over to the hose and wash off.”
    His mouth took on a warning twist, and he brought his face closer to hers. “Just who do you think you are, short stuff?”
    She squared her chin. “You work for my father, and you’re bleeding all over his lawn,” she shot back. “And you’ve got blood on his shed door, and if you don’t do what I say, you’ll get more blood on me, and you’ll never work in any yard in this town again.”
    “Oh,” he said with an indignant toss of his head, “the princess of the manor has spoken. All right, all right. I’ll wash off. Now leave me alone. And let go.”
    Again he tried to jerk away, and again she held fast. His arm was warm to her touch and knotty with muscle.
    “Ouch!” he cried again. “You’re pressing on that thorn, for God’s sake. What do you want? ”
    “I want to see you do this right,” she said stubbornly. “Stop being so macho.”
    “Stop being so bossy,” he countered, but he allowed her to lead him to the hose coiled up on its holder beside the faucet.
    She let go of him and unscrewed the nozzle, then turned on the water. “Come here,” she ordered.
    “I can do it myself,” he said contemptuously. “Who are you? Florence Nightingale? Give me that.”
    He snatched the hose from her and began to let the water run over his chest. He kept his left hand pressed to his side, and the blood still dripped from under his fingers.
    “I’ve studied first aid,” she said. “I’ve got a certificate.” Actually, this was a white lie, because she only had a Girl Scout badge in first aid, but she knew telling him that would only make him sneer. She could already see that he was a master of the sneer.
    “Whoopty-do,” he muttered, letting the water run down his arm.
    “Let me see your side,” she commanded, trying to pry his hand loose.
    “Quit!” He smacked at her fingers, but lightly, as if shooing a butterfly.
    She glared up at him as imperiously as she could. “You did this to yourself on my father’s property,” she said. “What if you’ve got internal injuries? A…a severed artery? Or get blood poisoning? Or gangrene? Then he’d be liable, and I won’t stand for that. I will not. I demand you show me that cut.”
    He rolled his dark eyes in disgust. “Yes, my lady.” He drew away his hand and held it, bloody in the air. “Look. Does it make you happy?”
    Actually, it was a wide, nasty cut, and it made her rather sick. She was glad she was pale by nature, because she could feel her own blood draining from her face. But she kept a stoic expression.
    “How’d you manage to do that?” she asked.
    “The trellis broke,” he said slowly, as if explaining it to a child. “The slats cracked, and one shot into my side. I think it bounced off a rib. It’s not as bad as it looks. It’s not deep. It’ll heal.”
    “You’ve got a splinter in it,” she said, staring at his nakedside. “More than one. Let me get the tweezers. I’ll pull them out and patch you up. But then you should go get a tetanus shot.”
    “You don’t get tetanus from wood,” he informed her. Then he faced away from her and let the hose run on his open wound.
    She began to back toward the house. “I’m going to get the first aid kit. You better be here when I get back, or I’ll tell Mr. Merkle and—”
    “I know, I know,” he said with distaste. “I’ll never work in this business again.”
    Breathlessly she ran inside, seized the first aid kit out of the downstairs bathroom