by Score, Lucy
He looked warily back and forth between her and the deputy.
“Okay?” Mack said.
Kersh looked down at his neatly bandaged arm. “Can I work?”
“Of course. Just mind the wound for a couple of days. Don’t dump motor oil in it. Let me print out some wound care instructions for you. The main thing is to keep it clean.”
The deputy finished her radio conversation and followed Mack into the living room.
“Dr. O’Neil, I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Uh-huh,” Mack said, opening her laptop and downloading the clinic’s wound care flyer. She hit print and the tiny printer she’d stuffed onto a shelf in the built-in between a ceramic frog and a framed lace doily spit out the papers.
“Do you feel unsafe?” the deputy asked.
“I feel perfectly safe. I wouldn’t have invited him inside otherwise.”
“The sheriff isn’t happy.”
Her radio squawked again, and Deputy Tahir’s lips quirked. According to dispatch, Chief Reed isn’t happy either.
Shit.
“Understood.”
She grabbed the papers and returned to the kitchen. “Okay. Here’s your instructions. If you have any questions or have trouble changing the dressing, you know where to find me. Your prescription is ready at the pharmacy over on Main.”
He looked down at his bandaged arm then back at her. When he rose, he held out his hand.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, shaking it.
“Agree to disagree?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
She followed him to the front door. “Abner, sometimes family loyalty means letting your family figure things out for themselves.”
He paused and looked at her and then the deputy. “Maybe so. But even if you convince some of us, it don’t mean you’ll convince all of us.”
Deputy Tahir didn’t like that. But Mack took it for what it was. Not a threat but a warning.
“I understand.”
He started down the walk, the paper and a baggie of gauze and tape in one hand. He stopped and called out, “Don’t forget to bring your car in for that oil change.”
Abner pulled away from her house and made it around the corner before the BFD chief’s vehicle came to a screaming stop in her driveway. The very pissed off Linc didn’t bother turning off the engine or closing the door. He was too busy storming toward her.
“You might need those handcuffs,” Mack warned the deputy.
“Honey, you better believe it.”
“What in the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, rushing her.
“I was thinking the man was no threat and he had a wound that needed cleaned.”
Linc spun away from her and took a cleansing breath. Then another.
“Linc?”
He held up a finger over his shoulder. “Need a minute or I’m gonna say something stupid that you’ll hold against me.”
She understood and appreciated the restraint.
“I’ll wait,” she said quietly.
Deputy Tahir rolled her eyes at their antics.
Linc turned around and pressed his palms together in front of his chest. “Mackenzie.”
“Yes?”
“I would really appreciate it if you would walk me through your decision-making when it comes to bringing a Kersh into your house and letting him threaten you.”
There was a tic in his jaw that fascinated her, and he sounded as if he was being strangled.
“I’m sorry for worrying you,” she began. His face softened a degree. “But it’s not your place—”
He was back to hard and angry and was shaking his head.
“Uh-uh. Nope. You don’t get to tell me that I don’t get to worry about you. I care about you, Dreamy.”
“Imma just wait outside,” the deputy decided. “Come on, Sunny. You can hang out with me and sniff the flowers.”
Tahir and Sunshine stepped outside and closed the front door behind them.
“I know you want to pretend that it’s just you. That you’re in this alone. That whatever we’re exploring together doesn’t matter. But we both know that’s not reality. You will not be careless. And you won’t take stupid risks,” he said, his voice low.
Mack took a step forward so they were toe-to-toe. “Fine,” she growled. “And you will not assume that I’m being careless or taking stupid risks. You will trust me to take care of my own damn self.”
“Fine. And you’ll allow me to back you up if you ever need it.”
“Okay. Whatever.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
“Awesome.” He hugged her to him hard. “Be safe, Dreamy. I’m just getting to know you.”
Her heart began a tumble dry setting in her chest.
“He wasn’t a threat,” she insisted. “Sunshine liked him. And if anything, he’s just warning me about the rest of his family.”
Linc made a grumble noise that said he wasn’t inclined to agree.
“I patched up an abscess for him, and I’m taking my car to his garage for an oil change. And I’m not stupid, Linc.”
“No, you’re not,” he said, tilting her chin up. “Still scared me.”
“I’m sorry for scaring you. Thank you for not using the lights and sirens.”
“I’m sorry for possibly coming close to maybe almost overreacting.”
35
“Linc?” Mackenzie O’Neil calling his name had rapidly become one of his favorite things on this earth.
“In the garage,” he yelled over the music.
They’d taken to letting themselves in and out of each other’s houses via the back door.
“What. Is. This?” she asked, stopping in the doorway.
He patted the gleaming red fender with the rag. “This is Betsy.” Betsy was an antique engine with an open-air cab and a wooden ladder. All lovingly restored with his own two hands. He’d bought her on eBay from a private seller in New York and had road-tripped with Brody to bring her home.
The restoration had taken him five years in bits and pieces and obsessive part hunting. But there was something about bringing a piece of history back to life that appealed to him. Of honoring where he came from.
“I can’t believe you have a firetruck in your garage.”
“I can’t believe you’ve never been in my garage. You should do a better job snooping on me now that we’re having sex.”
“I’ve been through your nightstand, your medicine cabinet, and the magazines you keep in the bathroom. By the way, Popular Science, Hotshot?”
“Garages are where guys always hide the good stuff,” he said, standing and laying a playful kiss on her.
“Have you been in mine?” she asked, still eyeing Betsy.
He snorted. “Dreamy, I’m a guy. I’ve been in your garage to check for fire hazards, your basement to look for bugs, rodents, and bad guys. I even stuck my head in the attic crawlspace.”
“What were you looking for up there?”
“Dead bodies,” he deadpanned. “Almost got my ass stuck in that tiny guest closet.”
She laughed. She’d been doing more of that lately. It was all part of his diabolical plan to keep her here permanently.
“Well, speaking of garages. I was wondering if you had time to help me with something?” she said.
Asking for help with anything was a monumental task for Dreamy.
He wiped his hands on the rag and threw it on the workbench. “Name it, and it’s yours.”
“First, I need you to not freak out and go all Manly Man on me.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.
“I need you to help me drop off my SUV at Shorty’s Garage for an oil change.”
“Uh-huh,” he said again. Counting backward from ten.
She was watching him closely. “You’re not happy,” she observed.
“I’m not,” he agreed evenly. “But I am choosing to trust your j
udgment.”
She beamed up at him and made him feel like a hero.
“Thank you, Chief Sexy Pants.”
“Let me get Betsy out of the garage, and I’ll be ready to go.”
“You’re driving that?” she asked, green eyes wide.
“Don’t talk about Betsy that way,” he said, finding his discarded sweatshirt and pulling it on over his head.
“What I meant to say is Betsy road legal?”
He patted her vintage license plate. “She sure is. I usually fill her up with kids for the Fourth of July parade. She loves the attention.”
“You’re a heck of a guy, Lincoln Reed.”
He followed her to the garage and waited while she dropped her keys in the overnight box. When she climbed in next to him, Sunshine firmly between them, he handed her a sweatshirt and cranked the heat.
“It’s not that long of a ride home,” she insisted.
“I’m taking my favorite girls for a leisurely drive. You got a problem with that, Dreamy?”
She grinned and ducked into the oversized BFD sweatshirt. “Nope. I’ve got time.”
* * *
The next day Linc carved out some time of his own. He wasn’t “overstepping boundaries.” He was doing his girlfriend a thoughtful favor by picking up her SUV for her. If he happened to have words with one of the mechanics at the garage, well, then so be it.
“Thanks for giving me a ride,” he told Kelly as she swung into the garage’s parking lot. It looked like it was a busy day for Shorty and his crew. Vehicles were on lifts inside open garage bays, more were stacked in the parking lot waiting for their tire rotations, oil changes, and noise checks.
“Happy to make sure you don’t get arrested,” she said, parking and unclasping her seat belt.
“You don’t have to come in with me,” he argued.
“You asked me to drive you. Not Brody,” she said simply.
It was true. Brody would have let Linc stir the pot and waited on the sidelines until punches were thrown. Then he’d jump in. Kelly Wu and her mom vibes would ensure that bloodshed would be kept to a minimum.
“I have to talk to him,” Linc insisted.
“Yes, you do,” she agreed, walking with him toward the door.
“Just keep me on this side of stupid, okay?”
“Will do. What in the hell is that?”
Kelly went from calm, cool, and collected to coldly furious in the blink of an eye.
Linc followed her gaze to Mack’s SUV parked next to the building. A team of nervous-looking garage employees stood by with scrubbing implements while the sheriff and Deputy Tahir took pictures.
“HORE” was clumsily sprayed across the hood in white, drippy spray paint.
“Hore? Ohhhhh. Shit,” Kelly said.
But Linc was already crossing the parking lot.
“Kersh!” he snapped.
A skinny man with a fresh bandage on his arm and a giant sponge in one hand looked up, eyes widening.
Kelly grabbed onto the back of Linc’s shirt as he plowed forward.
“Easy, cowboy,” she said, digging her heels into the asphalt.
It slowed him down, but it didn’t stop him.
Abner Kersh held up his hands. “I didn’t have nothing to do with this,” he insisted. “It was like this when we got in this morning.”
Linc grabbed the man by the front of his coveralls. “Who did this?”
“Calm down, chief,” Ty ordered, stepping between them. “Abner was the one who called it in.”
“I wouldn’t do this,” Abner said adamantly. “I swear I wouldn’t. Shorty, you gotta believe me,” he said to his boss, a short, round man with thick dark hair and a blue bandana.
Linc wasn’t sure if the man was more afraid of him or his boss.
“I know, Ab,” Shorty said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll vouch for him, chief. He’s one of my best. He wouldn’t jeopardize his job like that. Plus, the guy knows how to spell.”
“I do. There’s a ‘w,’” Abner said, nodding fiercely.
Linc forced himself to relax. But Kelly, knowing him as well as she did, maintained a grip on his shirt.
“Me ’n’ the doc have an understanding. It wasn’t me,” he said more calmly.
He believed him, and wouldn’t Mackenzie get a kick out of that? But there were still questions to be answered. “Then who was it?” he demanded.
Kersh looked at his feet. “Dunno.”
Ty shot Linc a look. They all knew who. Abner’s brother, Jethro, was an illiterate asshole who carried grudges for years at a time. He’d thrown punches over offenses committed twenty years ago.
“If your brother is responsible, we’ll find out,” Deputy Tahir said.
“I don’t know who did it,” Kersh said in a less-than-convincing tone. He fidgeted with the bandage on his arm. “But maybe some of us noticed a can of spray paint behind the dumpster. Maybe it’s evidence.” He shrugged and stared down at the cracked asphalt.
“I didn’t let anyone touch it in case there were fingerprints,” Shorty said, leading the way.
Linc and Abner stayed where they were, facing each other.
“You convey a message to your family,” Linc said. “Dr. O’Neil is off-limits.”
“Understood. And speaking hypothetical and all, I’d imagine she won’t have any more trouble from anyone,” Abner said cagily.
“Good,” Linc said.
Abner scratched at the back of his neck. “The doc seems like a nice lady.”
“She’s also terrifying. So if anyone is stupid enough to come after her, they’ll have to deal with me, and if they get through me, Mackenzie will put them down,” Linc said stonily.
“Message received.” Abner nodded.
Kelly sighed. “Okay. Pissing contest complete. Is that shit going to come off the paint?”
Abner turned his attention back to the SUV. “Looks like water-based. We’ll have it scrubbed down in no time.”
“You can wash it and wax it too,” Linc said.
“Yep.”
Ty finished up with the pictures and bagged up the discarded can of spray paint.
And while the garage employees tackled the spray paint, Linc stayed where he was, staring at his girlfriend’s defaced vehicle.
“Don’t even think about not telling her,” Kelly sang.
Linc growled and pulled out his phone.
36
A week passed and then another after the vandalism at the garage with no other trouble from the Kersh family. The fingerprints on the can had pointed at Jethro, who loudly and drunkenly denied any involvement and then took a swing at Deputy Tahir, who had happily put the man on his ass. Charges were pending.
Mack wasn’t worried.
Linc had gone overboard by changing all of her locks. He’d made noise about contacting the landlord to replace the rickety sliding glass door on her deck and installing a video surveillance system. Mack had put her foot down on both.
October was showing off this year with brilliant oranges, russet reds, and sunny yellows. The weather was cool and crisp. Mack had allowed Sophie, Gloria, and Harper to talk her into a half-day shopping excursion to stock up on warmer clothes.
She didn’t need four new sweaters, even if they were as soft as Sunshine’s fur. Or the dress that would look really good once she was out of that damn boot.
Her plan to keep Linc at a distance failed just about every night that he wasn’t working the B shift. When he was working nights, she kept Sunshine. She’d even brought the dog into the clinic a few times, where Sunshine worked her loving magic on sick or nervous patients.
Her ankle was healing nicely—who said doctors were terrible patients?—and the orthopedist was confident she’d be boot-free in November.
Fall was a season of change. Of new beginnings and ends of eras.
She wasn’t sure which one of those Lincoln Reed was. But both possibilities made her nervous. He’d taken her and Sunshine canoeing on the lake
and for slow, meandering drives through the countryside to see the leaves. They bought apple cider at roadside stands and posed for pictures with a three-hundred-pound pumpkin.
She helped man the registration table at the fire department’s chili cookoff and went to the Moretta’s backyard renovation unveiling. Under autumn sunshine and falling leaves, they’d all enjoyed Gloria’s mother’s enchiladas. Mrs. Moretta was still seeing the football player who had yet to get a word in edgewise but didn’t seem to mind.
At work, Mack had had to send her first patient to an oncologist, another to a cardiologist, and physically shared their worry.
She’d stitched up a high school football player. And after a long conversation about self-respect, the right to say no at any time, and how a baby could derail college plans, she prescribed birth control pills to a very excited seventeen-year-old whose mother gave Mack a brave, watery smile in the waiting room.
She stayed busy, but the ratio of work-busy to personal-busy had shifted dramatically. She still wasn’t on rotation for air shifts and had three days a week to do whatever she felt like. She was cooking on occasion now. And working out in Linc’s gym several days a week. She missed running, but the weight training had its own benefits. Namely, watching shirtless, sweaty Linc manhandle huge weight plates.
Meditation was still…not easy. But she stuck it out. Especially after Ellen reported in on her twentieth swim with a beaming, soggy selfie.
Everything was going well. And that, too, made her itchy. Because things never stayed that way.
* * *
Mack’s invitation to Benevolence Elementary’s First Responder Day was a pleasant surprise. To wow the kids, first responders competed for the most dramatic entry. The police went in with sirens and lights, sliding to stops in the parking lot below the field where the whole school gathered.
The fire trucks roared in and made a show of setting hose lines and climbing ladders.
But Mack’s team beat them all.
It was her first time back in the air since the walking boot, and it felt like coming home.