Read Online A Marriage In Wyoming (The Marshall Brothers 3) by Lynnette Kent - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lynnette Kent
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Adult, series, Western, Spirituality, Christian, Inspirational, cowboy, Bachelor, sensual, doctor, Faith, rancher, Wyoming, Minister, Community, second chances, Forever Love, Single Woman, Hearts Desire, Marshall Brothers, At-Risk Kids, Childrens Camp, New In Town, Circle M Ranch, Family Ranch
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account, and you did it without causing a scene for her or for you. Well done.”
“Thanks.” As always, his brother’s praise felt good.
But it was a wink and a smile from the pretty redhead that put the big grin on his face.
* * *
R ACHEL FOLLOWED L ENA up the hill to a small timber-sided house with a wide front porch.
“This is where the girls stay,” Lena said, leading the way up the front steps. “The boys are in the bunkhouse.”
“Just like the ranch hands in the old days, hmm?”
“I guess so.” Inside the house, Lena looked around. “Where am I supposed to do this? In the bathroom? The kitchen? The bedroom?”
“Wherever you’re comfortable.” Even though she’d treated diabetics in the past, Rachel had never contemplated all the small details that would go into daily life. “You would have the most privacy in the bathroom, I suppose.”
“But it’s not very big. Maybe I’ll just use the kitchen for now. We’re not cooking in here.”
“Do you have your orders from the doctor?”
Lena put her backpack on the counter and began pulling out materials. “They’re in there somewhere.” When she finished, a jumble of papers, books and boxes had been spread over the workspace. “Let me find them.”
Rachel waited, and cautioned herself not to say anything about being more organized. She wasn’t the parent, and Lena would have to develop her own system. But staying quiet was a struggle.
“Here it is.” Lena handed the sheets to Rachel. “First I have to test.”
“Are you sure?”
“What else—oh.” The girl nodded. “First, wash your hands.”
“Right.”
From there the process continued in a haphazard fashion. “Where’s the glucose meter?” Another search revealed the meter kit. “Put the strip in the meter. Put the lancet in the gun.” She glanced at Rachel with a frown. “That’s what I call it because it seems like you’re shooting yourself with that little needle.”
Teenagers had some unique perspectives. “There is a resemblance.”
“Then pick a finger and click.” A wince greeted the prick of the lancet. “Now catch blood on the strip and wait for the number.” Five seconds ticked by in silence. “Huh. It’s high. I barely ate any breakfast.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Rachel said. “Just write it down and figure out your insulin dose. You’ll be eating bread at lunch, so you want to take that into consideration.”
“This is such a pain.” Brow furrowed, Lena studied the instruction sheet and her log book then came up with a number. “Do I have it right?”
Rachel scanned her work. “You’ve got it. Do you want me to give you the injection? Or step out and give you privacy?”
“Could you just make sure I’m holding the syringe right? How am I supposed to tell what a forty-five-degree angle looks like?” She picked up the insulin pen, dialed up a dose and then drew a deep breath. “Now for the bad part.”
Lifting her shirt, Lena pinched a fold of skin on her stomach, below her waist. “Like this?” she asked, posing the needle.
“That’s it,” Rachel told her. “Go for it.”
With a breath hissing between her teeth, Lena pushed the needle into the fold of skin. Her thumb fumbled for the button at the end of the pen, then pushed.
“‘Remember to pause at the bottom,’” she parodied Kim in a high-pitched voice, “‘so the last drop leaves the needle.’” She frowned. “It still hurts. Every single time.”
“You will get used to it, honey.” She couldn’t help feeling sympathetic. “You’ve been doing this less than a week.”
“Seems like forever already. Can we go to lunch now? I’m starved.”
At this point, silence wasn’t an option. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?”
A raised eyebrow and a glance at the mess was Rachel’s answer.
Lena sighed. “I have to clean up, I suppose.” She rushed through the process, stuffing supplies into the backpack without order while Rachel
“Thanks.” As always, his brother’s praise felt good.
But it was a wink and a smile from the pretty redhead that put the big grin on his face.
* * *
R ACHEL FOLLOWED L ENA up the hill to a small timber-sided house with a wide front porch.
“This is where the girls stay,” Lena said, leading the way up the front steps. “The boys are in the bunkhouse.”
“Just like the ranch hands in the old days, hmm?”
“I guess so.” Inside the house, Lena looked around. “Where am I supposed to do this? In the bathroom? The kitchen? The bedroom?”
“Wherever you’re comfortable.” Even though she’d treated diabetics in the past, Rachel had never contemplated all the small details that would go into daily life. “You would have the most privacy in the bathroom, I suppose.”
“But it’s not very big. Maybe I’ll just use the kitchen for now. We’re not cooking in here.”
“Do you have your orders from the doctor?”
Lena put her backpack on the counter and began pulling out materials. “They’re in there somewhere.” When she finished, a jumble of papers, books and boxes had been spread over the workspace. “Let me find them.”
Rachel waited, and cautioned herself not to say anything about being more organized. She wasn’t the parent, and Lena would have to develop her own system. But staying quiet was a struggle.
“Here it is.” Lena handed the sheets to Rachel. “First I have to test.”
“Are you sure?”
“What else—oh.” The girl nodded. “First, wash your hands.”
“Right.”
From there the process continued in a haphazard fashion. “Where’s the glucose meter?” Another search revealed the meter kit. “Put the strip in the meter. Put the lancet in the gun.” She glanced at Rachel with a frown. “That’s what I call it because it seems like you’re shooting yourself with that little needle.”
Teenagers had some unique perspectives. “There is a resemblance.”
“Then pick a finger and click.” A wince greeted the prick of the lancet. “Now catch blood on the strip and wait for the number.” Five seconds ticked by in silence. “Huh. It’s high. I barely ate any breakfast.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Rachel said. “Just write it down and figure out your insulin dose. You’ll be eating bread at lunch, so you want to take that into consideration.”
“This is such a pain.” Brow furrowed, Lena studied the instruction sheet and her log book then came up with a number. “Do I have it right?”
Rachel scanned her work. “You’ve got it. Do you want me to give you the injection? Or step out and give you privacy?”
“Could you just make sure I’m holding the syringe right? How am I supposed to tell what a forty-five-degree angle looks like?” She picked up the insulin pen, dialed up a dose and then drew a deep breath. “Now for the bad part.”
Lifting her shirt, Lena pinched a fold of skin on her stomach, below her waist. “Like this?” she asked, posing the needle.
“That’s it,” Rachel told her. “Go for it.”
With a breath hissing between her teeth, Lena pushed the needle into the fold of skin. Her thumb fumbled for the button at the end of the pen, then pushed.
“‘Remember to pause at the bottom,’” she parodied Kim in a high-pitched voice, “‘so the last drop leaves the needle.’” She frowned. “It still hurts. Every single time.”
“You will get used to it, honey.” She couldn’t help feeling sympathetic. “You’ve been doing this less than a week.”
“Seems like forever already. Can we go to lunch now? I’m starved.”
At this point, silence wasn’t an option. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?”
A raised eyebrow and a glance at the mess was Rachel’s answer.
Lena sighed. “I have to clean up, I suppose.” She rushed through the process, stuffing supplies into the backpack without order while Rachel
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