by Laurie Paige
“Janie,” he murmured, “we need help. If you know anything that would—” He broke off as he stared into eyes so cold they would have frosted a store window at twenty paces.
Carey Hall averted her gaze and strode on down the sidewalk, her head high as she pretended not to see him sitting there with Janie, making out with the impressionable youngster as he tried to pry information out of her.
“Hell,” he said.
Janie jerked as if startled out of a trance. “What?”
“Nothing.” He sighed and glanced at his watch. “I have to go. I have an appointment.”
Janie now wore a frown. He could see she didn’t think much of him at the moment. He didn’t think much of himself.
“Were you using me to make Dr. Hall jealous?” she demanded, her hands on her cup as if she might throw the hot coffee in his face.
“Yeah,” he said.
Janie missed the ironic overtone. “I think you’re a beast.” She flounced off.
He finished off the coffee and tossed the cup toward the trash bin. Missed. He picked it up and slam-dunked it into the bin. So far his day had been a perfect zero, and it was now time for his meeting with the deputy.
Five minutes later, he stopped in front of the McCallum house. He climbed out, his heart kicking up a bit when he saw Carey’s ute in the drive.
He wondered if she’d brought good news. Maybe they’d found a donor for Jenny. She hadn’t told him where to go or when to come in for testing. That was something he needed to ask about. Maybe she didn’t need him. Maybe someone else matched, and he could leave.
Sterling answered his knock. “Come on in. We’re nearly finished.” He led the way into the living room.
Jessica smiled and spoke in her usual manner. Jennifer played on the floor in front of the fire with a doll and tea set. The doc nodded, but didn’t speak.
He noticed Jessica’s eyes were red. As if she’d cried shortly before his arrival. The deputy was as grim as death. Carey, too, was blinking her eyes suspiciously.
“I, uh, wanted to talk to you about the ranch. The foreman asked me to stop by.” He felt awkward, as if he, the outsider, had intruded on a family scene. “Should I come by later?”
“No,” Jessica answered. “It’s all right. I was just taking Jenny to the bedroom for her nap. If that’s all?”
She looked at Carey, who nodded, then she swept the child into her arms and hurried out. The little girl was thin, and as pale as a mist. Her shiny, bouncy curls were gone. Tufts of colorless hair wafted around her face.
Something clenched hard and achy in his chest. He listened to the kid tell her mom about her tea party until a door closed down the hall, shutting off the childish treble.
“What is it?” he asked, looking from one to the other.
Sterling didn’t answer.
Carey spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “Sterling and Jessica don’t match Jennifer’s blood profile. They can’t be donors. We’ve tested a full dozen people now. It’s like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack.”
“You haven’t tested me. I said I’d volunteer. Where do I go?”
She gave him a doubtful perusal. “There probably isn’t any need—”
“I said, I’ll do it,” he snapped, angry with her for closing him out, with himself for trying a cheap trick with Janie, angry with the whole damn situation.
He saw her and Sterling exchange glances, then she nodded. “All right. Can you report to the hospital tomorrow around noon?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.” She stood. “I’ll let you know the moment we find anything,” she said to Sterling, who jerked his head once in understanding.
After she left, the emptiness of the room closed in around the two men. Wayne pondered this for a moment. With the women gone, life seemed diminished somehow. Odd, that.
“I wanted to talk to you about the ranch. Did Reed tell you about the mineral block I found?” he asked.
For the next half hour, he and the deputy discussed the Kincaid place that was Jennifer’s heritage. If the kid died, McCallum and his wife would inherit the ranch. Not that they wanted it. He could tell that.
“I have some ideas about the place,” he started, then decided it wasn’t the time. “Once we get the problem of the Kincaid curse settled.”
Sterling snorted. “You believe in curses?”
“I believe in people trying to make others believe in them. I never heard of a cow dying of fright from seeing a ghost, and no ghost planted that poison.”
“Right.”
He discussed the ranch for another fifteen minutes. “There’s something niggling in the back of my mind. Some clue I’m missing or maybe something I’ve forgot—” He stopped before he gave his past away. “It’ll come to me.”
“I hope it does before you get a bullet in the head. We could use some help on this case.”
Wayne smiled at Sterling’s gallows humor and got up to go. “So do I.”
He drove back to the ranch, his thoughts on the days ahead. He’d nearly given his identity away several times recently. He would have to confess and explain his past actions soon.
Carey closed the file and slid it into its slot at the nurses’ station. “If J. D. Cade comes in, would you page me?”
“Sure,” Annie said, flipping her red braid over her shoulder and out of the way while she painted clear nail polish across the run in her stocking. She blew on the polish, then pulled her skirt down over the run. “Where will you be?”
“In the cafeteria. I’ll eat lunch here before heading back to the office.”
As she walked down the corridor, she realized she’d said “if,” not “when.” She didn’t expect him to show up. Her senses were keen where he was concerned. She instinctively knew he was restless. He’d be gone soon.
The thought dampened her already gloomy spirits, which matched the weather. It was raining hard. The rain would probably turn to sleet by night. She had a long day ahead of her and would be out on the icy roads after dark.
Just as she reached the cafeteria line, she heard her name over the page. She turned and retraced her steps along the hall, then went into the reception area. J.D. was there, talking to Sara, the records clerk, who was charmingly, shyly, flustered by his presence.
Carey smiled ironically. Flustered wasn’t half of what she felt around him. She was fast losing her fight to avoid him and stay out of his arms. She wanted him. It was that simple. And that complicated.
With a resigned sigh, she went forward. “So you came.”
“I said I would,” he said in that wonderful voice that was like rough velvet.
Her breasts beaded when his sultry blue gaze swept over her. She was dressed in black wool slacks and a green sweater under her surgical smock, which was open down the front. He paused at the evidence of her arousal. A slow smile kicked up the corners of his mouth.
She made a threatening face at him when Sara bent over her charts and pretended not to see the byplay between them. He grinned openly.
“The lab is this way.” She strode off with a determined air of brisk efficiency without waiting to see if he came along or not.
His chuckle assured her he was right behind her. “Will this take long?”
“No.” Her short reply raised the sandy eyebrows of the lab technician, who had started work there the same day she’d opened her office.
“I’ll need you to fill out this form,” Bill, the technician, told J.D., handing over the clipboard. “Sit here.”
She noticed J.D. hesitate as he held the pen over the first line. He glanced up and met her eyes. A prickling sensation attacked her scalp. She had the strangest feeling he was going to tell her something.
But he didn’t. He quickly wrote in the information on the standard form and handed the clipboard back to Bill.
She moved over to the window and gathered her composure around her as if it were a cloak she’d accidentally dropped.
Bill glanced at
the form. “I have to know your full name. What do the J and D stand for?”
“That’s it,” J.D. said. “Nothing else.”
“Oh. Okay. I’ll add ‘initials only’ at the end of the line.” He showed the cowboy what he’d done.
The technician quickly performed the procedure, filling the vials of blood necessary for the tests that would determine if J. D. Cade could be used as a bone marrow donor for Jennifer McCallum.
Carey suddenly hoped that he could. She wanted it desperately, as if her own life were at stake. The oddest thing was she wanted it for him. He didn’t know it, but he had a need to be needed.
She didn’t know how she knew that, but there it was. She was as positive of it as she was that the sun was still shining behind the layer of black clouds that hovered over Whitehorn and most of southern Montana.
“Okay, we’re done,” Bill said.
She faced the room again. Bill stuck a strip bandage over J.D.’s arm, then left the room with the vials of blood in a metal pan. They would be on their way to the state lab within the hour.
“How long before you’ll know?” J.D. asked.
“We’ll have the results in a week,” she told him.
“A week,” he repeated.
She would almost swear he sounded like a man who’d gotten a last-minute reprieve from the governor.
Reprieve from what?
That was the question. There was something going on that she didn’t understand, but she was aware of the vibes in the air. It wasn’t just sexual tension between her and him, either, but something more….
“Have you had lunch?” she asked.
“No. You paying, Doc?” He gave her an amused look while he rolled down his sleeve and buttoned the cuff.
“Yes.”
“All right.” He took her arm. “Is this a date?”
“You wish,” she scoffed, automatically playing the role she’d adopted with him.
Once seated with their food in the cafeteria, she gazed at him, puzzled. “Something is different. What?”
“I don’t know.” He picked up his hamburger.
“Yes, you do. You’re not saying.” Again, she didn’t know how she knew that, but she did. Anger brewed in her at his reticence. “I’ll find out.”
He gazed at her a long minute, then shook his head as if he didn’t know what she was talking about.
But he did. She felt it in her bones.
Six
“Say that again.” Carey tossed her reading glasses on the desk and clutched the telephone cord.
“You’ve got a donor,” Dr. Holt, head of the testing lab informed her, a smile in his voice. “You should have heard the cheer that went up in the lab when I told them.”
“Who? Which one?” She’d sent in three samples of blood for testing.
“J. D. Cade. I’ll get the report in the mail in the morning, but I thought you’d like to know tonight.”
“Yes. God, yes. Thanks so much for calling. Oh, any chance you could fax the report now. I want it in hand so I can look at it.” She laughed at her eagerness.
Dr. Holt chuckled, too. “Sure thing. Good night.”
“Good night, and thanks again for calling.” She hung up and collapsed into the chair behind her desk. A donor. J.D. She couldn’t believe it. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes and rubbed the sting of tears away.
She reached for the telephone again, anxious to tell Jessica and Sterling. And to call J.D.
No. Not until she got the official report. Better to have it in hand and look it over herself before getting everyone all excited. Just in case.
J.D. He was the donor. In addition to his blood, she’d sent in two more samples with the same blood type as Jenny’s, but until this moment, she hadn’t let herself hope at all.
The telephone connected to the fax machine rang. In a few seconds, it began clacking, then spit out the report. She grabbed the pages and skimmed the entire report. A match on all six counts, verified and signed off by Dr. Holt himself. It was official. She grabbed the phone and called the ranch.
The foreman answered. “J.D.? He ran into town to pick up a part we’d ordered over at the machine shop. You want me to tell him you called?”
“Yes. This is Carey Hall. Have him call me. I’m at the office, but I’m leaving in about five minutes. I’ll be at home the rest of the evening.”
As soon as she confirmed he would go through with it, she’d call the McCallums. Or maybe she should wait for tomorrow. They wouldn’t sleep a wink tonight.
Taking a deep breath, she composed herself and gathered her purse, checked that she had her keys and searched her pockets for the new pair of gloves she’d bought just the other day.
The day she’d seen J.D. in the park with Janie, the waitress from the Hip Hop Café.
Even that little scene couldn’t detract from the relief she felt upon finding hope for Jenny. His private life was none of her business. She was interested in him strictly for medical reasons. With this firmly in mind, she headed for the side door.
The front bell rang in the outer office. She hesitated. At this hour, it was most likely an emergency. She turned back, tossed her things into a chair and went to the front of the Victorian building she shared with Kane Hunter.
“J.D.,” she said stupidly after she flipped the dead bolt and opened the door.
He stood with his hat in his hand. Rain glistened on the poncho he wore over his shearling jacket. “Harding left word at the shop that you were trying to get hold of me.”
“Yes.” She stood aside when he entered. The door closed with a soft click, as if it punctuated the word.
He stripped out of the poncho and hung it and his dark-gray Stetson on a peg. “You need to do more tests?” he asked, facing her.
She shook her head. The tears, the foolish, foolish tears, crowded her throat so she couldn’t speak.
He bent slightly and peered into her eyes. “What is it? Bad news? I’m not a match,” he concluded.
“No, no. I mean, yes. Yes, you are. That’s why I was calling. You’re a perfect match. All six factors. I’m so glad. Jessica and Sterling… You will do it, won’t you? You’ll be the donor?” She stared at him anxiously.
“Of course. I said I would.”
She laughed. Somehow it turned into a sob. She pressed a hand over her mouth, completely at odds with herself. She was a doctor. She was supposed to be cool and calm at all costs. But she didn’t feel that way at all.
“Hey, now,” he murmured, touching the side of her face.
She went to him then. She stepped forward. Or maybe he did. She felt his body heat as his arms slipped around her. It was like walking into a warm room. Like coming home.
He tried to hold her, to comfort her, but that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what she wanted. She needed more. She closed her fists on his jacket lapels and pressed upward.
“Woman?” he questioned.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, oh, yes.”
His arms stiffened, then his muscles gave a mighty flex against her breasts. The light was blotted out as his mouth came down on hers. His lips were soft, yet hard. His tongue stroked her lips. She opened and invited him inside.
The hunger grabbed her. Need flashed into flame. It was a roar in her head, drowning other sounds such as caution or the voice of reason. She clung to him, writhed against him and demanded a like passion from him.
“Hold on,” he said. He tried to move away.
Desperation poured through her like a flood of champagne. “No.”
His hands slipped between them. “Just let me get my coat off.”
As soon as he got it open, she slid her hands inside and over his lean torso. The jacket hit the floor with a muted plop. He reached under her cardigan and caressed her back with his wonderful hands.
It still wasn’t enough.
She tugged at his shirt, wanting it gone. “I want to touch you,” she said. “Now. Take it off. Hurry.”
“You,
too. Take your sweater off.”
It was crazy. Insane. Mindless. She knew all that and she didn’t care. The worry, the tension, the wanting and never having—all came together in this one moment of fire and lust and longing.
“This way,” she said. She led him into her office. She threw her cardigan on the chair with her purse and kicked her shoes off.
He closed the blinds, shutting out the street light and the shadows cast by the pouring rain. She removed her slacks and her blouse. He turned on the desk lamp, then took off his shirt and draped it across the lamp, filtering the light to a glow that matched the one inside her.
“Hurry,” she said impatiently when he stood watching her. Panic ate at her, as if they would both disappear if she paused.
He sat on the sofa and removed his boots. When the rest of her clothing joined those on her desk chair, she turned to him. With quick, efficient movements, she stripped him of his jeans. He got his shirt off before she could help there.
He wore a dark-blue thermal T-shirt and white briefs. There were scars. She saw them, knew what they were, but there was no time to dwell on that just then.
She crashed into his arms, fiery with needs that were boundless and out of control. Sounds like those of a wounded animal needing succor slipped from her throat, as she sought the haven of his mouth with hers.
He took her weight easily, holding her as tightly as she held him. His lips and tongue moved with hers, answering her kiss and letting her set the mad, furious pace.
At some point, he gathered her up, lifting her feet from the floor, and pivoted a quarter turn. The short velvet nap of the sofa caressed her back. He laid a pillow behind her head and gently pushed her backward until she lay supine. She caught his hand.
He rubbed his thumb along her wrist while he gazed at her, his eyes roaming from one point to another, pausing, then moving on. “You’re a beautiful woman, Carey Hall.”
For a few seconds, she basked in the admiration, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted him. Now.
When she tugged on his hand, he settled his long, lean body over hers. Their legs meshed as if they’d done this a thousand times. Thighs, bellies, chests, all the warm living flesh of their separate bodies came together. A bit of shifting, the settling of part of his weight on his arms, and they fit perfectly.