by Deb Stover
He hadn't known then that bloodstains required cold water, so his repeated hot water washings had merely set the stain permanently. Unfolding the soft blue blanket, he exposed the rusty stain, wondering why he'd kept it all these years.
The bittersweet ache spread through his chest as he refolded the blanket and returned it to his closet. The stain was permanent.
Taylor's love was not.
* * *
Taylor checked the contents of her medical bag. With the box of supplies she'd left at the clinic the day before, she should be all set to begin her medical career. She grabbed one more slug of coffee, then headed out the back door to her VW.
Before she reached the car, an eerie pricking sensation crept up the back of her neck. Slowing her pace, she looked around the backyard, expecting to find someone watching her. When she saw no one, she laughed it off and continued toward the car.
All the gravel on the drive had washed away over the years, leaving bare dirt in its place. She noticed the prints immediately. Bear prints.
Her heart pressed against her throat and she held her breath. An icy chill swooped through her body. Her forehead went numb, her lips tingled, terror gripped her.
She was ten again and hiding in an abandoned shack from a wounded bear. The beast had spotted her when she lagged behind the other Girl Scouts and chased her to the inadequate shelter. Growling and snarling, the bear had tried to push the building down while Taylor screamed and prayed with all her might, until the Girl Scout leader and all the parents and girls had made enough noise to drive the bear away.
And now there were bear tracks around her car. In town.
Her gaze darted around the yard again, over her shoulder, then she bolted for the car and slammed the door. Inside, she rested her forehead against the steering wheel, waiting for her breathing to return to normal.
It wasn't unheard of for bears to come down into town this time of year, usually foraging through garbage cans and draining hummingbird feeders. Tonight, she would park her car in front of the house. Closer to the door. And she'd stop at the hardware store and get a new sensor for the motion detector. That would help.
Her sanity slowly returned and she started the car, then backed out of the drive. So far, her stay in Digby had been one disaster after another, and she'd barely begun her three year tour of duty. Well, she couldn't exactly call dinner a disaster. All things considered, it had gone rather well.
Except for that incident out on Vista Road....
Heat flooded her cheeks as she dropped the car into first, then started down the hill toward Drumond Avenue and the clinic. And Gordon.
Warmth invaded more than her face as she remembered how her body had reacted to touching his last night. She rolled down the window and the early morning air flowed through the tiny car, cooling her cheeks and the rest of her body within seconds.
"I can do this," she muttered, turning the corner onto Drumond. She dropped the car to a lower gear and crept toward the veterinary clinic. "I can do this."
Gritting her teeth, she swung the car into a parking space at the back of the building, beside Gordon's Jeep. She sat staring at Henrietta for several seconds, then she drew a deep breath, girded her resolve, and opened the door.
"I can do this. I will do this." Medical bag in tow, she used the key Gordon had given her to open the back door. Inside, she blinked and waited for her eyes to adjust to being out of the bright Rocky Mountain sunshine.
"Morning, Taylor," Sue called, buzzing down the hallway in high gear. "Gordon's in surgery most of the morning."
"Good morning." How could anyone move that fast this early? Ryan must've gotten it from his mother. Taylor needed more coffee, then she'd have to talk to Sue about the logistics of getting her patients back to her exam room. She would also need to pay Sue something for all the extra work. After all, she was a single mother.
That part still confused Taylor, but she refused to think about it now. Today, she had to play doctor for real. She stowed her medical bag in what would pass as her office for now, then went in search of the coffee pot she'd spotted yesterday. The aroma reached her long before she found it. She removed a cup from a hook and filled it with the rich brown liquid, reminding herself to bring her insulated mug tomorrow, so she'd have something with a lid.
Taking a long sip, she leaned against the counter for a moment and remembered what Sue had said a few minutes ago. If Gordon was in surgery all morning, then he probably wouldn't have a waiting room full of furry, four-footed patients scheduled. Maybe she would have one of her own. Or two.
Though this type of medicine wasn't what she really wanted to practice, she still wanted to be useful and busy. Plus, this was her first independent experience as a physician. She smiled and lifted her coffee cup in a mock toast to her first day on the job.
"Taylor, there you are." Sue popped her head around the corner. "We have an emergency." The woman vanished as quickly as she'd appeared, leaving Taylor no choice but to follow.
She saw Sue turn into one of the exam rooms, and Taylor raced down the hall after her, wondering why she hadn't put the patient in Taylor's office. Pausing in the doorway, she saw the reason. Approximately seventy-five pounds of golden fur was sprawled out on a stainless steel table.
"Wha–"
"Is it bad?" a woman asked from across the room.
Taylor's gaze took in the woman's dark glasses and realized the dog was this woman's eyes. "What happened?" She shoved up her sleeves and went to the patient, forgetting its species for now. As long as it wasn't a bear, she could handle it.
"She was trying to protect me," the woman sobbed. "There was a bro-broken window at the store."
Sue was still applying pressure to the animal's hind leg. "The dog put herself between her and the glass." Her eyes were moist and imploring when she looked up at Taylor. "She needs stitches and Gordon's tied up for at least another hour."
"I..." Taylor looked from the woman to the dog, then nodded. "Can you ask Gordon what to give the dog as a sedative and how much?"
Taylor placed her own hand over the gauze pad on the dog's wound, amazed at how still and quiet the animal was. "Good girl," she said, telling herself that stitching up a dog's leg was no different than a hairy human one. She'd have Sue help her shave a little fur away, then they'd take care of the injury. "What's her name?"
"Goldie," the owner said. "I'm Sally Bradshaw."
"Are you related to the mayor?"
"Tom is my brother. I live with his family."
Taylor pulled a corner of the gauze away and peeked. Sue was right about the stitches. The glass had sliced a deep gash that wouldn't stop bleeding on its own. The dog flinched and whimpered when she reapplied the pressure, but made no effort to rise. "You can go stand by Goldie's head if you wish, Sally."
The woman rose from her chair and felt her way along the wall to the table, then rested her hands on Goldie's head. "There's my girl," she cooed.
Taylor's first patient might be a dog, but in many ways Sally was also her patient. Goldie was Sally's eyes and she was injured. In a roundabout way, she was treating a human.
"I think she's going to be fine, Sally," Taylor said. "Once we get this wound stitched and the bleeding stopped, it will be a matter of making sure she doesn't get an infection."
"That's good." Sally stroked the dog's head. "She's very healthy."
"I can see that, which is why I'm confident she'll be all right."
"Is...is her leg damaged?"
"I can't be entirely certain there's no soft tissue damage, but time will tell." Taylor drew a deep breath. "We can take an x-ray to make sure there are no broken bones, too, though that's unlikely with this type of injury."
"Thank you, Doctor."
"You're welcome." And she was.
Sue came in with a metal tray which included a filled syringe and everything necessary to stitch the wound. A short time later, the dog was dozing, the wound bandaged, and Sally sat in her chair right beside the ex
am table, her hand resting on Goldie's neck.
Taylor pulled off her gloves and dropped them into the red container in the corner. She met Sue's gaze and the woman nodded. "You done good, Doc."
Satisfaction eased through Taylor, along with something she hadn't felt since high school. A bond with Sue Wheeler. "Thanks. So did you."
"I'd like to stay here with Goldie," Sally said.
"Sure," Sue said. "I called your brother, and he'll be here any minute."
"Thank you," Sally said.
"I'd like to have Gordon look at her before you take her home anyway, and make sure the sedative has worn off." Taylor didn't doubt her ability at stitching simple wounds, but Goldie was a canine, after all.
"Looks to me like you have things well in hand, Doctor."
The male voice startled Taylor and her breath caught. She swallowed hard and met Gordon's approving gaze. "Thanks."
"Dr. Lane, Dr. Bowen saved Goldie's life."
"I'm glad she was here for you," Gordon said, his voice quiet, his gaze continuing to hold Taylor's.
Sue cleared her throat and slipped behind Gordon. "I'd better go check messages and see if anyone is in the waiting room."
Gordon glanced at the bandage and gave Taylor a thumbs-up gesture. "Everything looks fine, Sally," he said. "I'll have to send her home in a cone collar, so she won't be able to chew the stitches, though."
"All right. Thanks."
"I need to get back to my office now and finish setting things up now," Taylor said, wanting desperately to escape. Gordon's approval felt too good and meant too much to her. It shouldn't. It couldn't.
"I'm leaving the door open, Sally," Gordon said, putting his hand on Taylor's arm. "The minute you feel or hear Goldie waking, you call out and one of us will come running. Okay? And I'll have Sue bring you a soda. Dr. Pepper, right?"
"Thanks, I'd like that."
Taylor was trapped. Gordon shifted his hand from her arm to the small of her back and steered her from the room, giving Sue the instructions he'd just mentioned to Sally as they passed the reception desk and headed toward Taylor's new office.
Bewildered, Taylor found herself in her office with the door closed and Gordon's arms around her before she drew her next breath. He gazed deeply into her eyes, then lowered his mouth to hers.
Her momentary shock gave way to a cascade of joy. His kiss was deep and wet and thorough, and she returned it with far too much enthusiasm. He tasted as sweet now as he had ten years ago, and her heart swelled with something she refused to identify.
Suddenly, he released her and she swayed to keep her balance, staring stupidly up into his glittering turquoise eyes. "Why?" she whispered, not sure if she'd been kissed or punished.
"I had to see if it was as I remembered."
Her belly flip-flopped and she drew a sharp breath. "Was it?" Not that she should care....
He sighed and reached for the doorknob. "Better."
The tone of his voice made it clear that he was disappointed with the results of his test. Taylor lifted her chin and struggled against the urge to throw herself into his arms. Her nose and throat burned, but her stubbornness wouldn't permit the tears to flow.
He jerked open the door and closed it quietly behind him. Taylor rested her cheek against the cool surface and squeezed her eyes shut.
Oh, yes. Much better.
Chapter 6
Gordon rubbed his temples, sensing what was about to erupt. Sue had that look–the one that spelled L-E-C-T-U-R-E. The infuriating thing about Sue's lectures was that she was almost always right. Dammit.
"Taylor just left." Sue placed her palms on his desk and leaned toward him. "She's been here over a week. You have to talk to her, Gordon."
Yeah, almost always right, but not this time. He summoned a bland expression and grabbed a pencil to occupy his hands, twirling it between his thumbs and forefingers. "I have talked to her. Every day."
"About...what happened?" Sue's face paled. "You told her everything?"
Gordon closed his eyes, remembering. "No, we haven't discussed that." He met Sue's gaze. "And we aren't going to. It's over, Sue. Let it go."
She shook her head very slowly. "You're lying to yourself, buddy. It's far from over."
Gordon's gut twisted into a knot and the pencil snapped in two. "Don't go there, Sue." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Just...don't." His dreams provided enough ongoing torture to send him to an early grave. He didn't need this.
She stared at him as if trying to read his mind. "You have to talk to her." Her expression softened. "Gordon, I've seen the way you two look at each other. The sexual tension in this place is so thick you could–"
"Stop."
Sue smacked the desk with the flat of her palm. "No, I won't stop." She closed her eyes and drew a shaky breath, then gave him an imploring look. "It's all my fault, Gordon. Mine." Her lower lip trembled. "I can't undo the past, but I can try to do something about the future. I have to. This is k-killing me."
"Ah, hell, don't cry." He raked his fingers through his hair, then stood and walked around the desk. "Come here, you." He pulled her into his arms. "It isn't your fault. Taylor knew what she was doing when she walked out on me." A fresh onslaught of pain stabbed through him. "She didn't trust me. I can't forgive that. It's over. Let it rest. I have." What a crock.
Sue pushed away and met his gaze, tears trickling down her cheeks. "I've lived with this guilt for ten years, Gordon. Ten years."
"You don't have t–"
"Yes, I do." She bit her lower lip and sniffled. "It's my fault she left and we both know it."
"If she'd trusted me..."
"Why does that matter now?" Sue's lips trembled again. "She was hurt and confused. That's why she left–the only reason she left, and we both know it. Because of me..."
"Don't cry." Gordon pulled her against his shoulder again. "Please, don't cry anymore."
"Will you talk to her?" Sue pulled back again, pinning him with her gaze. "Will you?"
"I don't know." Gordon rubbed her upper arms and swallowed the bile burning his throat like battery acid. Taylor had tried to talk about the past that night the Jeep died out on Vista Road. He didn't want to dredge it up again. Ever. It hurt too damned much. "Not yet. Maybe. I don't know."
"Think about it." A threatening tremor entered her voice. "Please?"
Gordon remained silent for several seconds, staring beyond Sue and into the past. "I said I'll think about it," he promised. As if he could stop thinking of Taylor. She occupied his thoughts every spare moment and then some these days.
But there was an important point Sue had overlooked. "Has it occurred to you...?"
"What?" Sue sniffled again.
"That you're the one who should talk to her?"
Sue's eyes widened. She pulled out of his embrace and paced the room. "Me?" She paused, biting her fingernail. "I don't know if she'd listen to me after–"
"What makes you think she'd listen to me?" With a sigh, he tossed the broken pencil onto the desk and watched both halves roll until they came to a stop against the telephone. "It's late. Go home."
"You said you'd think about it."
"Trust me, I will." He gritted his teeth. "How's Patches doing?"
"A little wheezing last night, and I'm starting to think Ryan's right about the weather causing this. It was colder last night." Her brow furrowed. "Aren't those test results due back from UNC?"
"Yeah, I'll give them a call tomorrow and get a verbal." He rubbed his chin, thankful he'd managed to change the subject, but sorry to hear Ryan's dog was ill again. "Call me if he gets any worse, and have Ryan bring him by tomorrow after school. That mutt is an enigma."
"He isn't the only one." Sue grabbed her sweater and purse from the chair where she'd left them when she first stormed into Gordon's office. "I expect you to think about talking to Taylor. You promised." She pulled on her sweater and retrieved her keys from her purse. "You're too stubborn to admit it, but you're still crazy about each oth
er."
"Ancient hist–"
"Later." Sue waggled her fingers over her shoulder and headed for the back door in overdrive.
"She always gets the last word," he muttered, throwing his hands into the air and shaking his head. Women. He'd never understand the creatures. Even his mother had softened her heart toward Taylor, inviting her to join church and community activities.
Which reminded him he was due at City Hall this evening for a town council meeting. He glanced at his watch. "So much for dinner." After grabbing his jacket, he left last minute instructions with Hank, the retired truck driver who worked nights at the clinic, then headed for his Jeep with barely enough time to make the meeting.
A few minutes later, he parked outside City Hall, the only three-story building in town, and bounded up the old stone steps. The meeting hall was packed. Odd. These meetings were usually sparsely attended unless something controversial was on the agenda.
He sure as hell hoped they weren't resurrecting that limited stakes gambling issue. That would be the end of the small town he knew and loved. Legalizing gambling had irrevocably changed Cripple Creek. As long as he served on the Digby Town Council, he'd fight to prevent that from happening here. Fortunately, most citizens shared his feelings.
Even the women's circle from church was here with cookies and punch. Something was definitely going on. He grabbed a cookie off a passing tray and shoved it into his mouth, ignoring his mother's arched eyebrow as he sped by.
"Ah, there he is," Mayor Bradshaw said as Gordon hurried toward his chair at the head table. "Running a little late?"
"Sorry, Tom," Gordon said, sliding into his chair. He nodded to the other three council members. Everybody in town seemed to be here tonight. Had he been so preoccupied that he'd forgotten something important?