She heard a car coming close, then closer. Mallory’s late arrivals? She barely glanced in the direction of the noise, saw a huge black truck slip into the slot beyond Mallory’s pickup and turned away from it.
“Faith?”
The voice was familiar, but she didn’t know who had spoken until she turned back. Adam. As he approached her, his smile grew wider.
“So it is you,” he said.
She looked up at him, his image starting to blur. She really needed to get out of there. “What do you want?” The question was harsh, but she couldn’t help it—she felt scared and like miserable.
“You,” he murmured, but his smile started to slip as he studied her face. “Hey, are you okay?”
She felt weak and wanted to get inside. The world was blurring more, and she was starting to feel nauseous again.
Adam was not touching her, but he was so close he could have. He was right in front of her now. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Migraine. I...I was on my way to the hospital, but...” She touched her tongue to her lips and felt the coldness of snowflakes on her face as she tried to look up at Adam. She hadn’t noticed it had started to snow. “The truck... I can’t... It’s so rough.”
He exhaled, the action sending a plume of his breath into the night sky. “Give me the key and I’ll take care of it,” he said, extending one hand to her and sounding like the cop that he was.
“No,” she said. He was the last person she wanted helping her.
He reached for her, caught her hand and took the key from her. “Stay put,” he said and he ran into the inn. He was there and back before she could figure out what to do to get away from him.
“I told Mallory that I’m taking you to the hospital.” When he began to blur again in front of her eyes, she knew she couldn’t fight him, and he seemed to know it. “I’d offer to let you take my truck, but you’re in no condition to drive anything right now.”
She wasn’t in any condition to do anything, including making an escape. A person who didn’t have anything to hide would agree with him and just be grateful he’d shown up. She decided to be that person. Growing pain trumped any other concerns she might have in that moment.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Adam held her arm and got her into his truck smoothly, easily lifting her into the cab. She welcomed the warmth and the soft leather seat.
Then he was leaning over her, snapping her seat-belt buckle. He moved back and shut the door. Faith let her head sag back against the headrest and felt the truck shift as Adam joined her. As soon as the truck roared to life, she could feel the heat flooding into the cab.
With the waves of warmth, she felt a certain edge leaving her pain. She closed her eyes and tried to think of anything but the painful throbbing.
She couldn’t, not even the fact that she was alone with him, a cop, and they were heading off into the night together.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“HEY, THERE,” ADAM SAID, and it startled Faith until she realized he was on his cell phone. “I’m heading your way with a woman who is in the middle of a really bad migraine.” He listened for a minute, then said, “Oh, good, great. We’ll be there in five.” She felt him shift in his seat as he drove. He didn’t say anything else. It was probably a tactic he used as a cop, keeping silent, hoping the criminal would say something incriminating. But she wasn’t about to. She kept silent, too, and found it soothing.
As they took a sharp corner, the truck bounced over a pothole. The big vehicle lurched, throwing her forward in her seat against the restraint of the belt. The pain flared fiercely, and she must have cried out because Adam immediately covered her clenched hand on her thigh with his. The contact was strong and sure, and she didn’t have the heart or desire to pull away from it.
“Sorry,” he said to break the silence in the cab.
She saw lights glowing ahead and a glass-and-steel structure with Wolf Lake Medical Center above the doors. The building dominated that part of the town. Adam drove into the parking lot, swinging left toward a flashing red sign that advertised the emergency-room entrance.
He pulled into the spot closest to the double glass doors and was around to open her door before she had her seat belt undone. He looked up at her, then put his hands around her waist and lifted her up and out of the truck. Her feet touched the concrete drive, and Adam’s touch on her steadied her even though her head was starting to swim again.
He shifted his hold, his arm slipping around her shoulders, and he gently tucked her to his side. His support got her to the now-open doors and inside a waiting area. Immediately, they were buzzed through to the examination rooms and doctors’ station. “Dr. Blackstar is expecting us,” Adam said.
As soon as Adam finished speaking, a doctor was coming toward them, his white coat open to show a plaid flannel shirt underneath, and Faith remembered Dr. Blackstar from the dance when he’d been with Mallory.
A stethoscope was draped around his neck, and it swung back and forth as he rushed up to them with a wheelchair he was pushing. He nodded to Adam, then turned his full attention to Faith. “Sit, and I’ll get you into a room,” he said in a no-nonsense voice. He didn’t give her a chance to object to being in a wheelchair, and to be honest, Faith didn’t mind sitting down.
She wanted to thank Adam, but she couldn’t make the words come. Unexpectedly, he reached out, touched her cheek with the tips of his fingers and said softly, “Moses is the best. He’ll take good care of you.”
She felt ready to cry at the contact and chalked that response up to the pain and sickness. Nothing made sense to her just then, least of all the fear she suddenly had that Adam was going to leave her there. She should be wanting him to go. And of course, he would. He’d driven here, and that was what he’d offered.
But when he glanced at the doctor and said, “Let’s go,” Faith was inordinately thankful Adam wasn’t deserting her just yet. Soon enough he’d be gone, but right then she wanted to have someone there. She wanted the very man she’d pledged to avoid until she could leave Wolf Lake. She knew that with him at her side she could get through this.
* * *
ADAM HADN’T BEEN about to walk away from Faith. He knew this hospital like the back of his hand from the months and months his brother Gage had been the lead contractor on the project. Adam had been around to follow its progress and see the results. Now he was leading Moses and Faith into the first free examination room. Moses got Faith to the side of the bed, then helped her up and out of the chair. He eased her onto the lowered examination table, then raised the bed, all the time speaking quickly, asking about her symptoms. She closed her eyes, her expression a grimace and her skin pale, but she quietly answered his questions.
He took her vitals and glanced at Adam. “Give us ten,” he said, “and I’ll be out to see you.”
Adam was surprised he felt so reluctant to leave her, but he finally did, wishing her eyes were open so he could at least smile at her before going. But that didn’t happen, so he turned and headed back out to the waiting area.
He sat down and leaned back, staring unseeingly at a flickering TV right across from him.
Before finding her earlier, he’d accepted that Faith had left Wolf Lake. That she’d slipped away just as she had from the dance. It became real for him when his partner in Dallas let him know that he couldn’t find a thing about a Faith Arden that matched the description provided in any databases he had access to.
Right then, it had been done, finished, and he’d moved on, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t looked back. Or that he’d forgotten Faith.
Then he’d talked to Jack again and was stunned to find out his older brother was considering something drastic, moving to be near Robert and his family. That had come out of left field, but he’d tried to be supportive, saying, “Do what you have to do for y
ou, Jack,” and he’d meant it. He wanted his brother to be happy again, to enjoy his life.
Two hours ago Adam had come into town for dinner with John and Hannah at their house, and all three agreed that at least Jack was moving on, not in a direction any of them had anticipated, but he was moving. That was all good. They’d reminisced and laughed, and Adam felt an easing in his soul. Jack would be okay, just not here in Wolf Lake.
Then he’d left his friends, driven down the street, taking in the signs of Christmas and the new snowfall, and done a double take. He’d slowed the truck, certain he was starting up his obsession again with any petite woman who might look like Faith Arden.
This one, however, was getting out of Mallory’s old truck. An illusion, obviously, but as he got closer, he couldn’t pass it off as such. There was something about her, and he found himself pulling into the parking area of the inn.
That was when he knew he wasn’t hallucinating—this woman was Faith, standing very still as snow fell around her. Faith. He opened his door, almost afraid when he did that she’d disappear, but she didn’t.
He’d about given up on ever seeing her again. Hadn’t even checked back with Mallory to find out about her guests. He’d let it go, and she’d been there all this time. Not only that, he was smack in the middle of Faith’s life now. He ran a hand roughly over his face, then turned to the closed doors to the examination area. He couldn’t believe he’d failed so miserably at finding her. Some cop, he thought with real self-anger. Too emotional, too involved to see the forest for the trees.
It was only dumb luck that had put her in front of him when he’d stopped looking. But now he knew what he was going to do. He was going to get answers.
Another twenty minutes passed and the doors slid back to reveal Moses pushing Faith in the wheelchair. They came toward Adam as he got to his feet. Faith looked pale but the lines of pain that had etched her face earlier seemed less pronounced. He wanted to touch her, to tell her she’d be okay even though he didn’t know if she would be, or if he had any right to say or do any of that. Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, he glanced at Moses.
“Well, it is a migraine and I’ve given her a shot that should help rather quickly, and she has other medication that will help when the shot wears off.” Moses said with emphasis, “She will be just fine.”
Why was he so relieved that she’d be okay? He let that question go and met her gaze, her lids heavy and the long, dark lashes shadowing her eyes. She murmured her thanks. He wasn’t sure if she meant that for him or Moses, or the whole hospital.
“Oh, no problem,” Moses said. “Give that shot time to work, and take it easy for a few days. Stay inside and you’ll be fine before Christmas. Just no driving for a day or two.”
For some reason Faith looked as if she was about to smile at his order, then the expression was gone, as if it had never existed. “I won’t,” she said.
“You sure it’s not anything more than a migraine?” Adam asked, keeping his eyes on Faith.
“A migraine is not anything minor, but yes, I’m sure it’s a migraine, and she’ll be okay. Just get her back to the inn and out of this weather.”
A nurse approached them. “Come on, sweetie, and I’ll take you to the billing area to get that over with,” the woman said as Moses moved back to let her roll the wheelchair to a clerk at a nearby counter.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Adam asked in a lowered voice, “You’re sure about this?”
“Hey, I got a license saying I can be sure about what I am sure about. So, yes, I’m sure.”
He watched Faith start to sign some papers. “What did she tell you about herself?”
Moses narrowed his eyes as Adam looked at him. “You know I can’t say much because of the privacy rules. I mean, she’s not your family or anything, is she?”
She was something to him, but he couldn’t sort that out right now. “I know, I know, I just wondered if there was anyone to notify for her.” That was at the bottom of his list of things he’d like to know about her, but it was a start.
“I asked if there was anyone I could call for her, but she insisted there wasn’t. I tried to get a name in case things went wrong, but she kept saying there was no one.”
“Does her insurance cover this?” he asked.
The doctor exhaled with a touch of exasperation. “Adam, don’t do this to me.”
“Is it a secret if she has insurance or not?”
“Okay, no insurance. She’s paying for it with cash.”
“Why’s she around here?” Adam asked, anxious for more information.
“Because she is. You know that theory about no one being able to occupy two separate spaces at one time?”
“I don’t watch sci-fi movies, but thanks for letting me know about that theory,” Adam muttered sarcastically.
“Hey, just because we’re friends doesn’t mean I’m going to violate any—”
Adam held up his hand to stop Moses. “Okay, I know. I won’t ask if she talked about any problems she had that led her here.”
“Thank you.” Moses sighed. “You know, you’re on vacation from being a cop. Why not enjoy it?”
Adam thought of something important, at least it was to him. “One last thing?”
“No, I can’t tell you her blood type,” Moses responded facetiously.
“All I want to know is if you noticed anything about her that bothered you.”
“What do you mean?”
He glanced at Faith, who was at the cashier’s desk, pulling her wallet out of her jacket pocket. He couldn’t even explain his own question, so he gave up. “Never mind,” he said. He’d find out on his own why she’d let him believe she was staying with a friend in town and why she was still here when she was supposedly leaving. He didn’t need to pull Moses into any of this for answers about the woman.
“Okay,” Moses murmured.
Adam looked right at his friend and couldn’t stop himself. “If you thought she was in trouble of some sort, would you tell me?”
Moses studied him, glanced at Faith, then shook his head. “No. You’re not family or even, as far as I know, a friend, so why would I? I’d most likely mention it to John before I’d tell you about it...if it were true.”
Moses was a direct man, no hedging with him, and he’d given Adam a straight answer. He didn’t like it, but it was what it was. “Thanks,” he said.
A smile came to the doctor. “You asked.”
“Yes, I did.” He watched the nurse wheel Faith back over to the two of them.
The nurse handed her some folded papers that she laid on top of the wallet resting in her lap. “Take care of yourself and get better, dear,” the woman said to Faith before she walked off.
Adam went around to grip the wheelchair handles as Moses asked, “Any word from Jack?”
“Seems he’s thinking of moving to be closer to Robert and his family.”
Moses looked surprised. “He won’t. He’s the one person who can never leave Wolf Lake.”
That was what Adam had always thought, but he’d started to wonder if he’d missed the fact that Jack needed a change. “Maybe,” he said.
Moses touched Faith on the shoulder. “If you need anything else, I’ll be right here all night. Just call or come on back.”
She nodded slightly as she closed her eyes. Adam looked at Moses over Faith’s head. “Anything else she might need?”
“Just to take care of herself,” Moses said and started for the waiting area.
Adam pushed the wheelchair over to the exit and rolled Faith out into a night of fine but persistent snow. The truck was close by, so he was able to push the wheelchair to the passenger side, then as she gripped her wallet and the papers, he helped her into the truck cab.
Once they were both settled
and on their way, Faith with her eyes closed, Adam noticed she wasn’t wearing any rings. It sounded as if she didn’t have anyone, or at least anyone she wanted to know where she was or what had happened. A woman like this? That didn’t seem possible.
He flicked his gaze over the dark curls brushing her forehead, and the long sweep of her lush lashes. There had to be someone out there waiting for her or looking for her, worrying about her.
When his phone vibrated in his pocket, he pulled over and glanced at the caller ID. Moses’s private line. He frowned as all sorts of thoughts flew through his mind, starting and ending with more being wrong with Faith than Moses had thought at first.
He hit the talk button and said, “What’s going on?”
“I’ve got a problem.”
His eyes went to Faith again, and tightness in his throat grew. “What?”
“Merry Brenner just brought something to my attention.” Merry was a child psychologist at The Family Center, a place connected to the hospital that offered help to Native children and other kids in the area with special needs. He’d never met Merry, but from what he’d heard about her from the folks in town, she had a real gift for working with the children. “She needs to talk to you, Adam.”
“What about?”
“A problem. I tried John first, but he’s already out on a call, got the deputy with him. They won’t be free for a while, and I thought, since you’re a cop and local, you might be able to help her out.”
He never took his eyes off Faith, and he was impatient to get this call over with. “What is it?”
“Here’s Merry. Let her explain.”
The next thing he knew, a soft, feminine voice was on the line. “This is Merry Brenner. I am so sorry to bother you like this, but there’s a boy in the pediatric ward at the hospital, one of the kids from The Family Center, Brandon Sage. He’s eight years old, and he had an accident a few hours ago. He was home alone and thought he could tag a hawk perched on the peak of their porch roof. So he climbed up, but fell off because of the snow. Thank goodness a neighbor saw it happen and brought him to the hospital.”
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