by Manning
Of course, it was the same girl. Though Jumbo Tinker had not been a close friend, Gaelen knew his house was in the same neighborhood and that he had two daughters.
Gaelen frowned when the guard took her elbow and pulled her toward the front of the hospital. The wave of possessiveness washing over him was totally inappropriate. He squashed it.
Annabelle jerked her arm away from the guard and with purposeful steps headed toward the street, her face lined with worry as she looked up and down for him.
At that moment, Gaelen knew how he could get to Lucas. And to Erin.
And he hated himself for it.
~*~
Annabelle rode up in the elevator, purposely emptying her mind of any thoughts at all. She was tired. That's all it was.
But why would she imagine Gaelen Riley flying past Erin's window?
“Ms. Tinker?” Dr. Duncan's voice stirred her from her musing. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, thank you. I'm fine. But I think I need some sleep. Would it be possible to have a cot moved into Erin's room?”
“No, I'm afraid not. It's against the policy of this ward. In fact, I shouldn't have allowed you to stay last night. Someone should have shooed you out of here hours ago,” the doctor replied with a smile. “Would you like to have someone drive you home?”
“No, thank you. I'm fine. I'll just look in on Erin.”
Dr. Duncan stepped in front of her. “Erin is sleeping. I put your bag and coat at the front desk. Come, I'll walk you to the elevator.”
“But—”
“Please, Ms Tinker. There are rules. You aren't supposed to be here now.”
“How did Dr. Riley get up here, then?”
Dr. Duncan's pixie green eyes widened. “You saw him? Did Gaelen mention why he'd dropped by?”
“He said he was looking for his brother. He's concerned that he hasn't seen Lucas in a few days.”
“Really?” Dr. Duncan smiled.
The familiarity with which Dr. Duncan spoke Gaelen's name stirred up an uneasy and unidentifiably unattractive feeling. She tried—unsuccessfully—to convince herself it was curiosity only, and that on Erin's behalf.
“How well do you, ah, know him ... them? Lucas and his brother?” she asked, using Lucas as an excuse for her question.
“I don't know Lucas well at all. I've only met him once or twice. I'm much better acquainted with Gaelen. We move in the same circles, you see.” Dr. Duncan stopped in front of the nurse's desk, a pensive look on her face, then she reached behind it and retrieved Annabelle's bag and windbreaker. “Oh, dear, you should be wearing a heavier coat with the raw storm blowing,” she said as she handed it over.
The beeper in the doctor's pocket cut off further conversation.
“Good night, Ms. Tinker. I trust I'll see you tomorrow?”
Offering a thin smile and quick handshake, Dr. Duncan left Annabelle by the nurse's station, turning and marching down the corridor, destination clearly in mind. Watching her, an uneasy twinge coursed along Annabelle's spine. The woman's reaction to Gaelen Riley seemed out-of-place, though Annabelle had absolutely no explanation for why she felt that way. Her reporter's mind filing that tidbit away to chew on later, Annabelle turned her mind to the task at hand.
Lucas Riley was waiting in her car.
CHAPTER SIX
Lucas jerked awake when Annabelle tapped on the window. He reached over and popped open the lock.
“Didn't mean to wake you,” she said, getting in the car.
“No matter,” he said, handing over her keys. “Is Erin all right? I was about to come up to check on her.”
“Good thing you didn't. Your brother showed up not long after you left.” Annabelle started the whiny engine of her rented import.
Lucas sat up and turned sideways in his seat, his eyes burning intensely.
“Gaelen was here? What did he say?”
Backing out of the parking space, Annabelle twisted around and didn't answer right away. She had trouble reconciling the urgency in Lucas's voice at the mention of his brother's name with the charming Dr. Riley who'd introduced himself in Erin's room.
“He's concerned about you,” she finally answered, easing the car onto the street and heading out of town to her mother's house.
Lucas puffed out a disbelieving grunt. “Concerned for himself, you mean,” he said, his voice low.
Driving beyond the bright lights of the medical center, they rode in silence through the velvet black night. Though he didn't make a sound, his tension rippled through the air. Annabelle could almost hear his nerves twanging, the annoying sound of a rubber band being plucked.
As her own nerves tightened, Annabelle asked, “What's with you and your brother?”
“What do you mean?” Lucas didn't turn toward her as he spoke.
“You seem to be worried about seeing him.”
“Actually, Gaelen isn't the one I'm most worried about.”
“Who then?”
A snort preceded his answer. “I can't tell you now. Maybe later, if...”
“If what?”
“If I can get myself out of the trouble I've got myself and Erin into here.” His head dropped back against the back of the seat.
“You've got my attention, Lucas. Tell me.” When he didn't speak, she added, “You've just said my sister is in trouble. You're going to tell me what's going on. And don't give me any more nonsense about it being dangerous for me to know.”
With a deep sigh, Lucas said, “When I can, I will. There're some things I need to find out first.” His eyes closed and he turned toward the window.
Annabelle let him rest, deciding to pursue the issue when she had him in the house.
“Here we are,” she announced, pulling the parking brake.
Lucas sat up and looked around. “Do you think we can get me in without your mother seeing me?”
“Let me check,” Annabelle said, opening her door and getting out. She hurried up the walk and pulled out her house key. Unlocking the door slowly, she listened for any sound showing her mother was still up and about. After finding her sleeping soundly, Annabelle went back to the front door and waved Lucas in.
He passed her and headed straight for the basement stairs.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I'm going to hide out in the rec room. There's a couch down there, right?” he whispered.
“Yes,” Annabelle answered, following him down the stairs. She hadn't expected him to settle in. “How long are you thinking of staying?” All she needed was for her mother to wake up and find this guy here. Annabelle wasn't in the mood for a hysterical scene right now.
“Just until I can figure a way out of this.” He dropped onto the beat-up plaid sofa, stretching his long legs. A grimace twisted his face and a grunt of discomfort ground from his throat.
“What's wrong, Lucas? Are you hurt?” Annabelle knelt in front of him and laid her hand on his knee.
Lucas squinted at her. “Just a little. I fear I injured my ... shoulder a bit, tore something.”
“Oh. Let me get you something. Some aspirin?”
“No! No aspirin.”
Annabelle jumped at his tone. He sounded like she'd offered him strychnine.
“No aspirin,” he repeated more quietly. “Upsets my stomach, you see. Just a teaspoon of cinnamon in a cup of hot tea, if it wouldn't be too much trouble.”
His charming smile, so like his older brother's, melted some of her unease about this whole thing.
“No trouble at all.” She left him stretched quietly on the sofa and went up the stairs to the kitchen. All the while she heated the water and spooned out the cinnamon into the cup and waited, she wondered how to break the news to her mother that Erin's missing lover was in the basement.
“Annabelle?” her mother's sleepy voice drifted into the kitchen through the midnight silence.
“Mom, you should be in bed.”
“I thought I heard voices. Were you talking to yourself?”
With a start, Annabelle realized her mother had heard her and Lucas.
Pinning up a smile, she turned to Susan. “With all this going on with Erin, I guess I just needed to talk to someone, and I didn't want to wake you.”
“What are you making there?” Mom peeked around Annabelle's shoulder.
“Just some tea. Want some?”
“Thanks.” Her mother stepped away and leaned on the counter. “Is that cinnamon?” She sniffed the air. “Ummm.”
Annabelle sprinkled some cinnamon into the second cup she took down from cabinet. Then she poured the hot water into the cups. Handing one to her mother, she wondered how she'd get back down into the basement to get to Lucas.
“When did you start drinking tea?” Mom asked, daintily raising the cup to her lips. “I thought you didn't like it,” she smiled, “unless it was iced and heavily sweetened.”
Annabelle sought an explanation. “I've heard it's soothing. After tonight, I need some soothing.”
“Uh-huh. Me, too.” Mom took her cup to the small trestle table in the breakfast nook and sat down, gazing out on the back lawn.
“Mom, why don't you go back to bed? It's still so early. You need your sleep.”
“Maybe I can finish my tea first?” she replied, her lips curving. “You know, Annabelle, I can decide for myself if I need to go to bed.”
It was the first time Annabelle could remember her mother declaring her independence. She smiled.
“Of course you can. I'm just worried about you.”
Her mother's rueful smile faded. “Poor Annabelle. So many people to look after.” Like so many times before, Annabelle watched her mother's attention wander, her eyes lose their focus. Her hands ached to grab her mother's shoulders, shake her, bring her back. But she was powerless, and could only watch, as her mother slipped away again.
Mom sat silently, hands wrapped around her cup, sipping gently.
“What do you think of what Erin said?” The question came out of nowhere.
“Don't worry about her,” Annabelle said, trying to be supportive and strong. Deciding to try her fictional account out on her mother, she added, “They just had a tiff and Erin let herself get worked up about it. She probably did look crazy to the cops when they got there.”
She stared into the cup steeping on the counter, as though she could find answers there. Suddenly, her neck began to tingle as she felt a pair of eyes on her. Turning, her gaze locked with her mother's.
“That's not kind, Annabelle.” Her mother's softly spoken chastisement sent a blade of shame into Annabelle's heart.
“I didn't mean I thought so,” Annabelle said, by way of apology. She stood by the counter while her mother drank her tea, very slowly.
“Mom,” Annabelle began, “what do you think? Do you think Lucas abandoned her?”
“I don't know. How can we ever know what another person is capable of doing?” Mom drained her tea and rose slowly from the table. “I guess, if Erin has faith in him, we have to trust her feelings. We'll just have to believe she knows him as well as she thinks she does.”
Believe. Funny how many times today that word had been spoken.
“Goodnight, dear. I'll see you in the morning.” Her mother stopped at the door and turned back with a smile. “Thanks for the tea.”
“Goodnight, Mom.”
Annabelle stood in the kitchen, listening to the soft footsteps of her mother as she went back to bed. In the silence, the gentle click as the bedroom door shut sounded loud enough to wake the dead and was plenty to snap Annabelle out of her stupor.
Taking the cup of tea, she opened the door to the basement stairs and carefully descended. A soft rattle echoed through the basement rec room.
Lucas was sprawled across the sofa, his long legs dangling off the edge, his left arm crooked over his eyes. His mouth was slightly open and he snored.
“I suppose you don't want the tea?” Annabelle asked in a whisper.
Lucas snored his answer.
He looked so young, so innocent, she couldn't find it in her heart to wake him or hassle him about his mysterious comments hinting at danger for Erin because of their relationship.
She puffed a huff of dismissal.
“It's the twenty-first century, for heaven's sake. People don't get arrested or beat up because of who they love,” she whispered, as she set the tea on the table and pulled a spread from the back of the sofa and laid it over Lucas, tucking it in at his shoulders.
Explanations would have to wait until morning.
~*~
Mom took the morning shift with Erin. After meeting her for lunch at the Carolina Inn, Annabelle arrived at the hospital just after one, worn out from a lack of sleep and freshly irritated by Lucas's unwillingness to explain. The last thing Annabelle wanted to see when she arrived at Erin's hospital room was his big brother with his perfect rear perched on the edge of Erin's bed, and both of them apparently enjoying a wonderful visit.
“What happened then?” Erin asked, between giggles.
“Dad took Lucas into the yard and filled a pipe and made him smoke the whole thing. Turned green as a frog, he did, and puked his guts empty right there.”
“Oh, no,” Erin covered her mouth with her hand. “Was he all right? Oh, how stupid. Of course he was.” She giggled again. “I suppose he never touched your father's pipe again?”
“Never,” Gaelen winked at her broadly, “unless I kept watch for him.”
Erin's good spirits raised Annabelle's own. Yet the presence of Gaelen Riley quickened an uneasiness, a strange tension that tightened her joints and twisted her stomach into twitchy knots. Under other circumstances, she might have thought the feeling pleasant, exciting.
“Dr. Riley,” she said, breaking up story time. “You're here early.”
He squinted at her. “No need for formality, Miss Tinker. The ‘doctor’ is purely an academic title. ‘Gaelen’ will do fine.”
“Gaelen came by hoping to run into Lucas, Annabelle,” Erin offered, “but unfortunately, Lucas seems to have abandoned me again. We don't have any idea where he is, do we?”
Since Lucas was gone by the time she got up this morning, Annabelle could answer honestly. “None at all.”
“What a pity. I'm sure you'll relay my message when you do see him. But I am glad of seeing you again.” Gaelen smiled.
“Are you?” Annabelle said, just as the door opened behind her with a scrape.
“Well, well. Hello, Gaelen.” Dr. Duncan raised the metal cover from a hospital chart and started reading. When she spoke it was to Gaelen. “I hadn't thought to see you here again.”
With a devilish grin, Gaelen replied, “Linette, my little songbird, how could I stay away from a gentle creature like yourself?”
Annabelle felt her forehead wrinkle. The wordplay was that of people who knew each other well. Extremely well. The diminutive Dr. Duncan hardly seemed like Gaelen's type, though Annabelle realized she didn't know what his type was. Nor did she care, she reminded herself quickly.
“You'll have to leave now, Gaelen. Miss Tinker.” Dr. Duncan, in her coolly efficient way, laid the chart on the foot of Erin's bed and took them by an elbow each, herding them toward the door. “Examination time, you know.”
Erin's startled expression made Annabelle open her mouth to object, but she was out the door before she could voice a word.
“Pushy little pixie,” Gaelen whispered under his breath.
“Excuse me?”
“The doctor. Linette. She's a pushy, opinionated—”
“She's the doctor, Dr. Riley. She's got the right to be authoritative if she feels she has to be.” Surprised as she was to be defending the overbearing little doctor, Annabelle felt an unfamiliar impulse to lock horns with him. “You don't have a problem with that, do you?”
“What? With a pushy—”
“You already said she was pushy.”
“And so she is. And loud-mouthed and irritable and...”
She
could see him editing his comments.
“Go ahead. Say it.” Annabelle let her temper rise, masking the other things swimming in her feelings tank.
“Say what?”
“Say the word. Don't look at me like that. You know perfectly well what word. The one men always use when they run into a woman they can't run over.” She dared him silently.
“Bitch.”
“I knew it,” she crowed. “You're intimidated by that tiny, pretty woman just because she won't let you charm her to get your way.”
“You told me to say it. And do you deny some women are bitches?”
“Dr. Duncan—”
“Dr. Duncan's picture is beside the entry for the word in the Oxford English Dictionary.”
Annabelle couldn't keep the smile from her lips.
“So, those lips can smile. I was beginning to wonder.”
“Leave my lips—”
“Can't even consider it. Such lips have inspired verse, songs, mur-r-r-r-der.”
The last word was spoken with an exaggerated accent, comical, yet sexy, all at the same time.
“My lips are none of your concern, Dr. Riley.” She wanted to clear her throat, her voice sounded so scratchy.
“A situation I would like very much to change.”
Annabelle stared at him. What did that mean? Was he really coming on to her?
As if to give her no doubt such was indeed his intention, Gaelen leaned closer and stood in front of her, bracing himself against the wall with one long arm over her shoulder.
“Excuse me, Dr. Riley. I'm not interested,” she said, ducking under his arm and starting toward the elevator.
“Not interested?”
Annabelle couldn't resist turning to see the expression accompanying his words. Gaelen stood as though frozen, his brow deeply furrowed.
“Not interested?” he repeated, his tone incredulous.
She barely suppressed the giggle threatening to ruin her serious façade.
“You think all you have to do is grin and wink and tell charming stories and any woman will fall for you? Hah!” Annabelle turned to continue to the elevator.