Read The Rebel's Return (Red River) for Free Online Page B

pulled out a bunch of leaflets on diabetes. “Have a look through these as a starting point. Feel free to give me a call or stop by for more information, and I can help you out. I also referred him to a nutritionist who specializes in diabetic diet management, but he didn’t go.”
    Aiden clenched his teeth. What the hell? He glanced over at his father who was deadpan. “I’ll see that he goes. In the meantime, what can I do?”
    After Evan gave him the essentials and armed him with the reading material, he stood, shaking his hand. “I really appreciate the time you took explaining all this, Evan. I’ll do everything I can while I’m in town to get him back on track.”
    “Not a problem. I’m relieved you’ll be taking over because I’ve been pulling my hair out trying to get through to him.”
    “Yeah, not an enviable task,” he said.
    “You two punks know I’m sitting here, right?”
    Evan grinned. Aiden was too pissed to grin. “Also, get your dad to show you where he keeps his blood sugar monitor. He should be taking readings three times a day. It’s an excellent way of getting an immediate and accurate blood sugar reading. There’s a booklet that goes with it, telling you what the target numbers are for different times of day. He should also be recording it.”
    Aiden glared at his father. “Okay, thanks, Evan. Dad, let’s go.”
    “I don’t know when staying alive became so difficult. Radiation. Diabetes. Who has time for all this crap?”
    “Maybe in between all your shows.”
    His father grumbled and stood, muttering something about knowing Evan was trouble. “Sorry,” he muttered to Evan when his father started toward the door.
    Evan slapped him on the back. “No worries, man. I don’t envy you. Just do what you can. Once you’ve had a chance to look over all that material, feel free to make an appointment, we can come up with a game plan, and I can answer any questions you have.”
    “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
    Wait until he called Dylan and told him what a wreck their father was and how much he hadn’t told them. He walked into the lobby, and his father was nowhere to be seen. After saying good-bye to Evan’s wife, Aiden stood on the main street, looking for his father. He spotted him halfway up the strip.
    He jogged down the street to catch up with his father, who was on his way to the bakery door. Of course, going to see Nat was exactly what he would have liked right now, but there was no way the old man should be eating desserts.
    He slammed the door shut before his father could open it. “What do you think you’re doing?”
    His father unsuccessfully tried to shove his hand off the handle. Aiden didn’t budge. “I’m going to get a cappuccino and a cannolo, like I always do in the afternoon. I’m part of the walking club.”
    He tried not to scoff out loud. “A walking club? Seriously?”
    “Yeah. Started by Puccini. We walk, and then we eat.”
    He swallowed a curse. The only other person he had wanted to avoid even more than Natalia was her father. The man never ceased to drop hints while he was dating Natalia that he was connected to the Mafia.
    “Are you freaking kidding me? No. No more. You can have the cappuccino—no sugar—but no dessert.” Man. He needed to do some reading on this condition. Movement under his hand reminded him he was blocking the doorway. He turned to find Eunice Jacobs’s face pressed against the glass. Jeez. He’d forgotten about her.
    This town never changed.
    “Now look what you’ve done,” his father yelled. “That old kook is listening to our conversation. She’ll tell the whole town about my diabetes.”
    “Are you kidding me?” he asked, pressing back against the door as Eunice tried with surprising strength to burst through it. “She probably has diabetes herself—she still has icing all around her mouth. Besides, who cares if people know you’re a diabetic? Don’t you think that being an alcoholic is more