Necessary Action

by Julie Miller

  Tom chuckled, and the warm laugh sounded genuine enough to make her want to smile in return. “You’ve got a pretty wicked sense of humor when you’re not busy pushing people away.” He drew a cross over his heart with his finger. “No lie.”

  Keeping her smile to herself at the childish gesture, Melanie carried the soiled supplies to the trash. She peeled off her gloves and tossed them, too, before facing her patient again. “My father was an honest man.”

  “Was?”

  “He died when I was eleven.”

  “I’m sorry.” The lines of sun and stress reappeared beside his eyes as he narrowed his gaze. “Your mom?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “That’s how you make friends. You ask questions and get to know a person. So does your mom live here?”

  Melanie shook her head. “She died when I was born. There were complications. The midwife couldn’t stop the bleeding, and Dad couldn’t get her to the hospital in time. It’s what motivated me to get emergency medical training. When something like that happens, it feels like we’re a long way from civilization out here.”

  “That’s rough.”

  She took the ice pack from him and emptied it before draping the towel over the edge of the sink. “It wasn’t all bad. I have wonderful memories of Dad. He taught me about the trees and wildlife here, how to run a fishing boat. He told me all about my mother, read to me at night. He took me swimming, hiking, canoeing...”

  And then she couldn’t talk about it anymore. Not with the fear that something horrible had happened to her father, and she’d never suspected—never even thought to suspect—a crime, or at least a cover-up, until just a few months ago. With the grit of unwanted tears stinging her eyes, Melanie excused herself to retrieve Tom’s bag from her living room. She lifted the sleeve of her T-shirt and dabbed it against her eyes until she’d replaced sorrow and guilt with the determination to do right by her father.

  “So Henry and Abby raised you.” She jumped as Tom palmed the small of her back and reached around her to pick up his bag before she could reach it. “Sorry. Gotta work on that hands-to-myself thing. So, no nicknames, no touching, and any time I have a conversation with you, I need to be brutally honest.”

  Melanie was still gaping with surprise. She hadn’t even heard him follow her into the room. “I prefer that.”

  “All right, then. I’ll tell you something real about me.”

  Manners aside, the man didn’t have much to do with modesty, either. He unhooked his belt and slipped on the knife Silas had taken from him before digging inside the bag a second time to pull out a rolled-up black T-shirt. When he reached for the zipper of his jeans, she turned away to face the eyelet curtains at her front window.

  “My mom was murdered when I was in high school,” he said. “By a couple of druggies robbing a convenience store where she’d gone to pick up milk.”

  “Oh, my God.” She turned right back. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.” If he was trying to gain her sympathy or show they had something in common, he might be succeeding. She understood that lonesome ache, that empty space in her heart where unconditional love used to reside. Did he? Could he truly understand how torn she was inside—wanting to get away from this place that had caused her such pain, yet needing to stay and do whatever was necessary to uncover the truth? She waited for him to pull on the shirt so she could read the sincerity of his expression. But it was the same craggy face with the same unreadable green eyes that she’d seen earlier. “Is that true?”

  He carefully adjusted his sleeve over the gauze bandage before tucking in the hem and fastening his jeans and belt. He pulled his gun from the bag and slipped it on over his shoulders, completing the look of a warrior before his gaze settled on hers. “I never lie about my mama.”

  There was a hard edge to his eyes and mouth and even in his posture that made her believe he was telling the truth. She tightened her grip around the end of her braid, fighting off the impulse to reach out and offer some sort of comfort. Right now, though, he didn’t look like the sort of man who needed or wanted comfort. This was what a soldier who’d seen too much looked like. This was the man who wanted a job away from the bustle of too many people, too many buildings, too much noise. This glimpse of what she suspected the real Tom Maynard was like beneath the crude charm and nicknames was, frankly, a little scary. But she’d take this brutal honesty over sweet-talking lies any day. Maybe she could use an ally like that in her quest to find the truth. Not that she could ever fully trust him—not while he worked for Henry. “I’m sorry about your mother. Did the police find her killer?”

  “Yes.”

  “You found closure after her death?”

  “I guess.” The steely set of his shoulders relaxed with a heavy exhalation, and he knelt to pick up the flannel shirt and balled-up socks that had fallen from his bag and stuffed them inside. “I’ll always be pissed off at the lowlife who shot her, and I’ll always miss her. But it happened a long time ago, and the shooter and his partner will be in prison for the rest of their lives, so, yeah, I guess that’s closure.” With a firm tug, he cinched the bag shut and pushed to his feet. “Why do you ask?”

  She wanted the same kind of justice for her father—or proof beyond a reasonable doubt that Leroy’s death had been an accident. Maybe her uncle had found the watch on the boat after it had been towed ashore, and he’d simply helped himself to the memento of his brother. But if there was a sentimental reason for keeping it, why stuff it in a forgotten box in the attic? Other relatives had swarmed in to take things that had belonged to her father—as a child, she’d been helpless to stop them. As a grown-up, she wondered if any of their motives had been sentimental—or if taking pretty much anything that wasn’t nailed down had held a more sinister purpose. As much as she felt compassion for Tom’s loss of a parent, she wasn’t ready to share her suspicions with a stranger. It was dangerous to share them with anyone around here.

  Instead, she countered with a question of her own. “Why did you tell me about your mother?”

  “You asked for a truth. And that’s one I’m willing to share.” So there were other truths he didn’t intend to tell her? “You want to know another one?” He pointed to her left ear. “You’ve got a kink of hair stickin’ up like a horn on the side of your head.” Her hand immediately flew there. She snagged the wayward strand and stuffed it into place behind her ear. A slow grin spread across his face, breaking the somber mood. “But I do love the color of it. I don’t know if I’ve ever touched red hair before. And this is the real deal, isn’t it?” He caught the braid she’d been fidgeting with a few moments earlier and held it up in his palm to study it. “Don’t know why I thought it’d feel different from any other color. Is that honest enough for you?”

  Melanie tugged the braid from his fingers and, this time, despite her best effort, she smiled back. “I don’t know what to make of you, Tom. I can’t tell if you’re trying to shock me or seduce me.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Is that second one an option?”

  Melanie was silently cursing the embarrassing heat crawling up her neck when someone knocked on her front door.

  “Mel? Are you in here?” The door swung open before Melanie could reach it. A wave of hot air rushed in, followed by very pregnant blonde woman.

  “SueAnn?” She took one look at her friend’s pale cheeks and grabbed hold of her arm. Melanie kicked the door shut and guided her into the living room, unsure if this was a friendly visit or a medical one. “Did you run over here? Are you all right? Is the baby okay?”

  Rubbing her heavy belly, SueAnn Renick wheezed for breath and leaned against Mel. “Is he here? I heard you had a patient. Is it Richard?” Tom lifted his duffel bag out of her path and SueAnn tilted her head back to greet him. “You’re the new guy?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Duff Maynard.”

  Melan
ie urged her to sit. “I thought I told you to stay inside during the heat of the day. Catch your breath and I’ll get you a glass of water.”

  But SueAnn rolled to her feet and tottered right after her. “I heard you were treating an injured man. Is Richard okay?”

  “Richard isn’t here.” Melanie turned to see her panicked friend swaying on her feet and quickly linked her arm through hers to walk her toward the infirmary door. “I was taking care of Tom. You need to relax. I’ll get you a cool compress.”

  “I know I’m really emotional with the baby. But I have a right to be, don’t I?” SueAnn moved her hand from her belly up to her forehead to lift her sunny gold bangs off her face.

  Melanie couldn’t tell if that was perspiration or tears beading on her friend’s cheeks. But she could tell the woman was overheated and dangerously close to hyperventilating. “Of course, you do. But Richard’s a grown man who can take care of himself. You need to think of yourself and the baby right now.”

  “How can I? What if he’s in trouble and needs me? It’s been four months since he left. A man doesn’t get a job just a few miles away and never return home. We’ve always been close. He’d call or send a letter if he could, wouldn’t he?” SueAnn braced her hand against the doorjamb and stopped. She looked inside the empty infirmary, then back up to the armed man still standing in the middle of Melanie’s living room. Her breath rushed out in a sharp gasp. “Oh. He’s your patient. I guess I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.” Tom stepped forward and extended his hand. “Like I said, I’m Duff. Is everything all right, ma’am? Who’s Richard?”

  “My brother.” She shook his hand. “I’m the one who should apologize. SueAnn Renick. Resident crazy lady.”

  Melanie tried to get her moving again. “Tom, you’d better go.”

  “I know something’s wrong.” She spun, grabbing on to Melanie’s arm with a sweaty palm as the color drained from her face. “Something’s happened to Richard. It’s this horrible place. He saw his chance to leave and...” She rocked back against the wall. “I am feeling a little light-headed...” She cradled her belly and slid toward the floor.

  Chapter Five

  Melanie barely had time to cradle her friend’s head and keep it from hitting the wall when a blur of black shirt and big shoulders nudged her aside.

  “I’ve got her.” Tom caught SueAnn in his arms and tipped the unconscious woman against his chest.

  “Be careful of your stitches,” Melanie warned.

  Without so much as a grunt of discomfort, he pushed to his feet, lifting her pregnant friend. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Put her in here and let me check.” Pushing aside the fleeting thought that Tom Maynard seemed to have a knack for rescuing women, Melanie pointed to the nearest cot. SueAnn’s blackout had been only temporary, but the woman was still woozy from the heat, exertion and fear that had brought her running in a few minutes earlier. Once Tom had laid her on the cool sheets, he backed up to let Melanie work. While she wrapped a blood-pressure cuff around SueAnn’s arm, she nodded toward the sink. “Grab that wet towel and fold it up for me.”

  Thankfully, he was quick to obey the order. He handed her a neat compress that was still cool from the melted ice. “You really are the doctor around here.”

  “I wish.” She sat on the edge of the cot and placed the compress on SueAnn’s forehead. The frantic woman’s blue eyes opened, then drifted shut again.

  “Is she all right?”

  Melanie plugged the stethoscope into her ears and listened to the rapid beat of SueAnn’s pulse. Her blood pressure had spiked to 160/100. Not good. Melanie shook her head and pointed to the file cabinet across the room. “Look under R for Renick and pull SueAnn’s file. I’ll need a pen, too.” As eager to help now as he’d been a recalcitrant patient himself, Tom brought her the requested items. She listened to the baby’s heartbeat, as well as SueAnn’s, before adding the vitals to the record she was keeping. She was seeing a pattern here that was as troubling as the idea of secrets surrounding her father’s death.

  She moved the compress to SueAnn’s neck and wrists, trying to cool the pulse points. “She’s worried about her brother. He’s been missing for several weeks.”

  “Missing?” Tom’s shadow towered beside her. “Did you report it to the sheriff?”

  The disappearance of Richard Lloyd wasn’t Melanie’s main concern. “SueAnn, you need to see a real doctor. I can’t control these blood-pressure spikes without medication. They’re not safe for you or the baby.”

  SueAnn blinked her eyes open. “Our home is here. This is where I want to raise my baby.”

  “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go to a hospital to deliver him or her. A real doctor could tell you if it is a him or her. You need to go to Henry and ask him to let you and Daryl go to Falls City or, better yet, Kansas City.”

  “He’ll never agree to that.” She dropped her voice to a nervous whisper and glanced up at Tom. “Besides, you know Daryl can’t get a job that pays as well anywhere else. And if we leave, how will Richard find us when he comes home?” Melanie felt her friend’s pulse beating faster beneath her fingertips. SueAnn swatted aside the compress and pushed herself up on her elbows. If it weren’t for her awkward balance and Melanie blocking her way, she would have climbed right off the cot and probably fainted again. “You don’t think Sheriff Cobb put him in jail for getting drunk again, do you? What could he have done to keep him imprisoned all these weeks?”

  “We don’t know that he’s in jail. The sheriff would have said something. Richard would have been given a phone call.”

  “I just know something terrible has happened to him.” SueAnn gulped in a sob of breath and fought against Melanie’s helping hands.

  “Ma’am? SueAnn?” A deep voice sounded beside Melanie as Tom knelt beside her. His big hands replaced Melanie’s on the other woman’s shoulders and lowered her to the bed. “You need to think of your baby. Take deep breaths.” He inhaled and exhaled along with her. “That’s it. Now why don’t you tell me a little bit about this brother of yours.”

  Melanie stared at the jut of Tom’s shoulder moving between her and her patient, eyeing the strip of white adhesive tape peeking out between his tanned skin and the snug fit of his sleeve. He was certainly a man of contrasts, able to handle the violence of a fight as easily as he comforted a hysterical woman. Melanie should suspect his motives for still being here when he could have left several minutes ago, but right now she was grateful for the soothing resonance of his voice and the calming effect it seemed to have on SueAnn.

  Encouraging Tom to take her place on the edge of the cot, Melanie got up. “I’ll get her something to drink.”

  She pulled out a fresh towel and ran it beneath the faucet while SueAnn rattled on. “His name’s Richard. The night before he left he told me he was taking on an extra job in town. Henry had arranged it. Or maybe it was Silas. I can’t seem to remember. A lot of the men pick up extra work when money’s tight around here.”

  “Is money tight?” Tom was frowning when Melanie glanced back at him. “I thought this looked like a pretty prosperous place.”

  “Did you come from Falls City? Did you see a young man with blond hair?”

  Tom shook his head. “I was just passin’ through when I met Mr. Fiske and got word about a job doing nighttime security work here.”

  “Night security?” SueAnn collapsed against her pillow. “That used to be Richard’s job. I wonder if he borrowed money from Henry. He had that new truck when he left. Maybe he thought he had to take the job in order to pay Henry back.”

  “Do you know what kind of job he had?” Tom asked. “Or what kind of truck he was driving? I could go back to Falls City and look for him.”

  “Enough. She needs rest.” Melanie pressed the damp towel to SueAnn
’s lips. “Here. Suck some water out of it if you can.”

  Her front door swung open to the clump of footsteps and a deep, worried shout. “SueAnn!”

  Daryl Renick dashed through the infirmary door before Melanie could meet him. He pushed a heavy box into her arms and moved right past her, eyeing Tom away from his wife and taking his place at the side of the bed. He tossed his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes and captured SueAnn’s hand between his. “Honey, I heard you were in the clinic. Is everything okay? Did something happen with the baby?”

  “It was just a silly mistake. I’ll be fine.”

  Daryl smoothed SueAnn’s bangs off her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He rested his palm on her distended belly before raising his dark eyes to Melanie’s. “Silas didn’t do something stupid to scare her, did he? I got those disposable phones he asked for.”

  Tom frowned. “Why would Silas want to scare your wife?”

  Melanie jumped in when she saw Daryl’s deer-in-the-headlight expression. She wouldn’t put it past Silas to coerce someone into doing what he wanted, and, clearly, Daryl’s trip into Falls City hadn’t all been about fetching medical supplies. She set the box of supplies on the exam table before offering him a rueful smile. “SueAnn passed out in my living room.” She nodded toward the muscular man lurking in the doorway. “Tom brought her in and helped me calm her down. But she needs to see a doctor.”

  “I know it.” Daryl extended a hand to Tom and nodded to Melanie, including them both in his thanks. “Thank you. I’ll talk to Henry again about visiting that specialist in Kansas City.”

  “I don’t need Dr. Ayres.” Despite her wan color, SueAnn was all smiles now as she reached out to Melanie. “You’re all we need, Mel. You’ve taken care of me for eight months. You’ll take good care of my baby, too. You delivered Alice’s baby.”

  Melanie took her friend’s hand. “One baby doesn’t make me an expert. What if there are complications?”