Baby, Drive South

by Stephanie Bond

  Nikki’s heart welled with pleasure. “Mr. Maxwell is very welcome.”

  “Actually, it’s Dr. Maxwell. He was the physician here in Sweetness for many years. He was so pleased to hear the person who found his watch is our new physician—said it was a sign. Hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable.” Molly winked, then left.

  When the door closed, Nikki suddenly felt empty…and shallow. She hadn’t meant to imply that the people here in Sweetness were too…much. She saw her inability to immerse herself in the efforts of the town as her own weakness, not the other way around. Hot tears filled her eyes. She’d underestimated what would be expected of her, didn’t realize how much the breakup with Darren had taken out of her and how little she had left to give.

  Loneliness engulfed her, leaving her chest aching. She groaned. And the misery of her sinus headache wasn’t helping matters. She blew her nose to relieve some of the pressure, then was overcome with the urge to consume something comforting, like warm tea or chocolate cake.

  Or warm chocolate cake.

  Her mind went to the licorice candy Riley Bates had brought her. She didn’t believe for a minute it would help her allergies, but it might at least satisfy her sweet tooth. She pulled out the bottom desk drawer where she’d relegated the candy and pulled out the baggie. The ropes of dark candy were lumpy and uneven, the ends jagged. It looked a little…unsanitary.

  She swallowed and opened the baggie. The bittersweet aroma of licorice had to be strong if it was able to infiltrate her swollen sinuses. Her mouth watered. She withdrew a piece of the candy and cautiously bit off a small piece, prepared to spit it out if the taste was revolting.

  It wasn’t revolting.

  It was soft and melty and chewy, flooding her mouth with sweet and savory cherry flavors that made her jaw lock in appreciation. “Um,” she moaned. “Mmm.” She took another bite and savored it as well, softening toward Riley Bates for the moments of pure pleasure. She finished a finger-sized portion, then tucked the rest of it back into her drawer, feeling like a naughty child.

  Suddenly restless, Nikki walked to the window to see if she could catch sight of any activity. Men and women streamed toward the clinic site, obviously curious. Nikki was curious, too, and while her body strained to go, something held her back. She didn’t want to become more invested in this place. And she didn’t want to run into Porter and deal with his intense eye contact when she was already feeling physically weak.

  Molly’s words reverberated in her head—the assertion that Northerners were afraid of how deeply Southerners felt about things. Despite Nikki’s protests, Molly’s insinuation that Nikki was afraid of developing emotional attachments hit close to home.

  But she had a right to protect herself from more hurt. She ran her thumb over her empty ring finger where a slight indention betrayed how thoroughly she’d been deceived. She’d learned the hard way that no one else was going to look out for her.

  Nikki turned away from the window and went back to her desk. The sooner the RHC application was completed, the sooner she could leave Sweetness with a clear conscience.

  20

  “What do you think of our clinic?” Porter asked Marcus and Kendall, his chest puffed out as far as he could get it while balanced on his crutches. “Looks good, doesn’t it?”

  “It does look good,” Marcus conceded, surveying the newly assembled clinic that workers were painting khaki green. “It’s a good-looking, expensive, big, empty building.” He looked at Kendall. “What’s the status on the RHC application?”

  Kendall jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m on my way to see Dr. Salinger. She said she’d have it ready this morning.”

  Porter’s pulse rocketed higher. Every day this week he’d been hoping Nikki would come to see the clinic going up. Every day this week he’d been disappointed.

  Not for himself, of course, but for the town that was on the verge of losing a doctor with such pretty eyes—er, with such potential.

  “I’ll go with you,” Porter offered to Kendall.

  “I don’t think so,” Marcus said. “Let Kendall handle this.”

  Porter frowned. “Maybe I need to see the little lady doc about my leg.”

  “Do you need a refill on the coat hanger?” Kendall asked drily. “I think she made it pretty clear that she didn’t want to see you again unless it was a legitimate medical issue.”

  Porter could only watch his brother walk away.

  “I know that look,” Marcus said.

  Porter straightened. “What look?”

  “That ‘I want what I can’t have’ look.”

  He frowned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Uh-huh.” Marcus looked over Porter’s shoulder. “Don’t look now, because here comes a woman who’s looking at you like you could have her.”

  Porter turned his head to see Rachel Hutchins walking toward him. She was scorching hot in a pair of cutoff shorts and a pink T-shirt, her body language loose and inviting—a far cry from Nikki’s sterile lab coats and crossed arms.

  Porter pursed his mouth. Dr. Salinger wasn’t his responsibility anymore. He was free to turn his attention in other, more promising directions. When Rachel smiled at him, he smiled back.

  “Hi, there,” she said.

  “Hi, yourself.”

  “Congratulations on getting the clinic up so quickly.”

  “Thank you,” he said, noticing her bra strap had slipped down her arm. Strangely, though, instead of imagining what lay underneath the blonde’s pink T-shirt, an image of Nikki’s transparent wet shirt flashed in his mind.

  Rachel gestured to his cast. “How’s your leg?”

  “Great,” he said, even though at the moment it was throbbing. “I’m not letting the cast get in my way.”

  She reached forward to trace the small John Deere logo on his T-shirt with a pink-tipped finger. “Of doing anything?”

  He swallowed hard. “That’s right.”

  “That’s good to know. Could I interest you in a picnic lunch today?”

  As he surveyed her tall, curvy figure, a strange feeling came over him—it was as if the idea of being with Rachel was more appealing than actually being with her. She had a hard edge that makeup couldn’t soften…and her voice was shrill to his ears, like a dog whistle.

  Then Porter shook himself. He was going soft—literally. There were worse ways to spend time than being fed by a sexpot. “That would be…great.”

  She beamed. “I’ll pack sandwiches. Noon?”

  “Sure. I’ll bring the ATV around and pick you up at the boardinghouse.”

  “It’s a date,” she sang.

  Porter watched her sashay away and considered the possibilities of a long, lazy afternoon on a blanket under a shade tree.

  Marcus walked over and clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t do something to run her off, too, okay?”

  Porter scowled. “Since everything is under control here, I think I’ll take the riding mower up on the ridge. I was up there the other day and the homestead could use a trim.”

  “Why were you up on the ridge?”

  “I took the little lady doc on a tour.”

  Marcus’s eyebrows shot up. “Really.”

  “I was just showing her around. I thought if she connected with the area, she might stay.”

  “Uh-huh.” Marcus grinned. “Face it, Porter. Dr. Salinger is the only woman in the world unaffected by that dented chin of yours.”

  “I’ll catch you later,” Porter said sourly.

  He climbed on one of the four-wheelers and drove to the large garage where they kept the work vehicles. After parking the ATV, he made his way to a tractor with a riding lawnmower strapped on the trailer hitched to the back. He arranged his crutches, then hoisted himself up and fired up the tractor. Then he steered it toward Clover Ridge and tried to relax for the long, slow drive. He was looking forward to some fresh air to clear his head.

  For some reason he couldn’t put his f
inger on, he already regretted telling Rachel he’d meet her for lunch. After all, Marcus was right—they couldn’t afford to lose the ringleader of the women. What if she became clingy, expecting something from him? Sure, things could go well—at first. But considering his short attention span when it came to women, there was a better chance that things wouldn’t end happily. Besides, the women had just arrived. It was way too soon to form an association with just one of them. Rachel was easily the most striking and the most sociable of the women, but there could be a sleeper in their midst…someone who didn’t necessarily stand out, but when awakened, could fuel a man’s passion higher than any siren.

  Like Nikki, he thought irritably. He suspected the pint-sized pent-up practitioner would be a wild thing in bed if she’d let down her guard.

  Had she been like that with her ex-fiancé—wild and uninhibited? And why did the mere thought of her being intimate with some faceless man bother him?

  Something large darted across the road and Porter slammed on the brake with his good foot. Despite his efforts, the animal collided with the front of the tractor with a sickening thud—a deer, he realized with a sinking feeling as it scrambled into the underbrush, and from the way it hobbled, obviously injured. A few yards off the road, the bushes along the path it had taken stopped shaking—the animal was down.

  Porter shifted gears and let the tractor idle, then climbed down and grabbed his crutches. He picked his way carefully through the brush, afraid of what he was going to find. He was relieved to hear the animal breathing hard and snorting. When he reached the deer, he saw it was a young doe. The animal’s eyes rolled and it tried to stand, but fell back to the ground due to the ugly, bloody break in one of the lower hind legs.

  Porter winced and approached the animal with soothing noises, but acknowledged the only reason it allowed him to lay his hands on it was probably because it was in too much pain to move. He surveyed the situation and the distance back to the tractor. His mind made up, he removed his work shirt and tied it around the deer, then tugged.

  It was slow going, moving forward on one crutch and dragging the injured animal with his free hand. He finally made it back to the road where he lowered the ramp on the back of the trailer and half pulled, half lifted the deer into place behind the mower and secured it by crisscrossing soft cotton ropes over its body. It was still breathing, but its chest heaved.

  He smoothed his hand over its furry ear. “Hang in there…the little lady doc will fix you up, just like she did me.”

  Porter didn’t take the time to analyze how good it felt to know that Nikki was in Sweetness…and how bad it might feel after she left.

  21

  “Thank you, Dr. Salinger. I can’t tell you how much my brothers and I appreciate all the hours you put in on this RHC application.”

  Nikki accepted Kendall’s handshake. “You’re welcome. Once it’s submitted, you should have approval within thirty days.”

  “That doesn’t give us much time to stock the clinic…or hire staff.”

  “Susan has the list of basic equipment and supplies you’ll need. As far as staffing, I’ll help you all I can—remotely.” She extended the unsigned employment contract.

  He held up his hand. “You can toss it if you’ve absolutely decided to leave.”

  She nodded. “Do you know when my van might be ready?”

  “Uh…can’t say that I do.”

  “Do you know if the replacement fuel pump has even arrived?”

  Kendall looked uncomfortable. “Uh…no. Porter was sort of taking care of it.”

  Nikki crossed her arms. “Mr. Armstrong, I’d like to leave as soon as possible. I need my van.”

  “Are you sure there’s nothing we can do to change your mind? Have you seen the clinic?”

  “I haven’t seen it,” she admitted. “But I won’t change my mind.”

  He nodded. “I’ll have a talk with Porter. We’ll get you back on the road as soon as possible.”

  She smiled. “Do that. Now that the application is completed, I don’t have much to do—unless your brother hires more patients for me.”

  The middle Armstrong brother had the good grace to squirm.

  “I haven’t seen him around the past few days,” she said casually. “How is his leg?”

  Kendall pursed his mouth. “Between you and me, I think it bothers him more than he lets on.”

  “I’ve told him over and over to stay off it.”

  “If it makes you feel better, he’s been through worse, and didn’t listen to the doctors then, either.”

  “Your younger brother seems to have a rebellious streak,” she agreed.

  “I know. But it’s served him well in life.” He grinned. “And women seem to love it.”

  Nikki gave him a deadpan look.

  “Er…not all women,” Kendall corrected hastily. “Maybe his methods are a little unorthodox, but when he puts his mind to something, he makes it happen. Like rebuilding this town, for example. If something happened to me and Marcus tomorrow, I have no doubt Porter would still meet the federal deadline.”

  “You and your brothers seem so close,” she murmured. The whole family dynamic was alien to her.

  “For better or worse,” Kendall said with a little laugh.

  “Your brother showed me where your home once stood.”

  Kendall’s eyebrows shot up. “Porter took you up on Clover Ridge?”

  She hesitated, wishing she hadn’t said anything. Kendall was obviously reading something into a simple gesture. “I think he was trying to entertain me. It’s a beautiful place.”

  He nodded, but was looking at her strangely. “I guess I’d better let you get back to work, Dr. Salinger.”

  They both knew that was a laughable statement, but she was starting to feel awkward about the direction of their conversation, so she didn’t protest. Kendall thanked her again, then left.

  When the door closed, Nikki pondered Kendall’s comment about his younger brother. Porter Armstrong planned to get this remote mountain town off the ground and spend the rest of his life here…get married here…raise a family here. Based on the population predictions for the town on the paperwork for the RHC, the Armstrongs had big plans for Sweetness. But all she could visualize was living in a fishbowl, where everybody would know every move she made. Where she would be expected to participate in everyone else’s lives and allow them into her life in return.

  She started to toss the employment contract in the trash can, then changed her mind and stuck it in a desk drawer.

  To save it for the next doctor who came to town.

  She paced around her office, feeling caged, fighting the urge to run outside and start walking toward the interstate. She was tempted to ask one of the women to drive her back to Broadway, but she wanted to leave with as little disruption as possible. They were all so…pushy, constantly inviting her to come to their rooms after dinner to listen to music and gossip. But it felt invasive because she was afraid they’d want to talk about her scandalous breakup with Darren. And even if they didn’t ask, she knew they were thinking about it when they looked at her. They pitied her.

  It made her want to tuck in her edges and keep to herself.

  Nikki massaged her temples and the bridge of her nose to relieve the pressure caused by the allergies that seemed to have taken up residence in her head. The pollen alone was enough to send her back to Michigan where the bitter winters zapped allergens that thrived in hot, humid temps. She went to her desk drawer and removed a chunk of the black licorice candy Riley Bates had given her—not because she believed in its medicinal qualities, but because the act of chewing would relieve some of the compression in her ears.

  And she was starting to crave the sharp, cherry flavor.

  She was moaning with pleasure when a rap sounded on the door. Before she could respond, the door burst open. Porter Armstrong stood there, taking up the entire door frame with his large physique and crutches.

  The jump in Nikki’
s pulse at the sight of him sparked her ire. She swallowed the mouthful of candy. “Why knock, Mr. Armstrong, if you’re going to barge in?”

  “Sorry,” he said, moving to get out of the way of the men following him. “It’s an emergency.”

  That’s when she noticed the blood on his shirt. Nikki was on her feet instantly. “Someone’s injured?” She was already performing a mental checklist for trauma treatment. But when they deposited the bloody patient on the twin bed and stepped away, Nikki came up short.

  “It’s a…deer.”

  Porter gestured for the other men to leave, then looked up. “Right…a doe, actually. She ran out in the road, jumped into the side of the tractor I was driving.”

  Nikki held up her hands, incredulous. “Mr. Armstrong, I’m not a veterinarian. I don’t know how to treat animals, especially wild animals.”

  He seemed surprised. “What does it matter? A broken leg is a broken leg. Can’t you just put a cast on it?”

  “And give the deer crutches to use while its leg heals? It’s not the same as treating a human. It’s not even close.”

  Porter’s face fell. “C’mon, little lady doc, surely you can do something.”

  His expression pulled at her. Defeated, she stepped forward to assess the animal’s condition. Its furry chest shuddered up and down, but it didn’t open its eyes. She pulled her stethoscope from her coat pocket and gingerly placed it on the deer’s chest. The pelt was thick and silky, its body temperature warm—warmer than a human’s, which, she remembered, was normal for many creatures. Its heartbeat was rapid, but weak, and its lungs sounded normal.

  Nikki frowned. As far as she could tell.

  The deer’s eyes opened, rolled wildly, and it struggled to rise. Porter’s crutches went crashing as he lunged forward to hold it down. He stroked the deer’s neck and made soothing sounds and the animal quieted. Nikki remembered the scene at the water tower where he called the bluebirds to him. The man had a way with wild creatures.

  And with tame creatures.

  “What do you think?” he asked, his face anxious.