Ashley quickly pulled on a long housecoat and hurried down the hall to her apartment door. Stepping outside onto the small iron deck, she leaned down over the rail. “What’s going on?”
Kiefer looked at her. “Harold and his crew are going to put a security light in for you.”
“I knew nothing about this.”
“I called in a favor.”
Ashley pressed her lips together. The light was needed but she didn’t want Kiefer taking it upon himself to see that she got it. She could take care of herself, get things done without his influence. After years of fighting against stifling concern, she wouldn’t let it take over her life again. She could grow to trust and depend on him. What if she did and he disappointed her? “I wish you hadn’t done that.”
He climbed the stairs. “What do you mean? You know this light is needed.”
“I do, but what I don’t need is someone trying to take care of me.”
Kiefer joined her on the landing. She suddenly felt small and underdressed with him standing next to her in his golf-style shirt, tan slacks and loafers. He made her think of things that could happen between them that were better left alone. Her nipples tightened in reaction to his nearness and she crossed her arms over her breasts.
“What brought that on? You said the other night that you’d been trying to get a light installed out here and I just asked the hospital administrator to give the power company a call.”
“Okay. I appreciate your efforts.” She turned to go inside.
“You still didn’t answer my question. What’s the chip on your shoulder about people being concerned about your welfare?”
She turned to glare at him. “I spent most of my life with overprotective parents, especially my father. It took me a long time to break away and I’m not going to let anyone control my life like that again.”
Kiefer’s shoulders and head went back. “Whoa, I didn’t expect that blast.”
“Then you shouldn’t have asked.” She opened the door, entered and closed it firmly between her and the man who saw too much and managed to send her emotions into a tailspin.
* * *
Kiefer hefted a cement urn out of the bed of his truck. He was glad he’d backed up to the front door, instead of trying to carry it across the parking lot. It weighed more than he’d anticipated. The man at the garden shop had loaded the two pots for him. He had asked for their sturdiest and apparently had got his request. Positioning the urn beside the door, he returned to the truck for a bag of potting soil.
After Ashley’s reaction to him arranging for the security light, he probably shouldn’t be replacing the flowers without discussing it with her, but he’d not seen her again. She’d left just after daylight, that much he knew, because her car was no longer parked near her stairs.
He poured half the bag of dirt into the pot. What he couldn’t figure out was her over-the-top reaction to him trying to help. The security light just made good sense. Was she one of those women who didn’t want anything done unless she was the one to do it? She probably wouldn’t like him replacing the flowers but she would just have to get over it. He’d tell her it was for the clinic and not her. That he was confident she would accept.
Why he cared he had no idea. After what Brittney had done to him he’d promised himself not to care about a woman one way or another and here he was planting flowers for one who wouldn’t be grateful. Brittney liked flowers. She’d kept fresh ones in a vase all the time. It had turned out some of those had been from Josh.
Stepping inside, he used more force than necessary and picked up the bucket with the dirt and flowers he and Ashley had rescued the night before. Kiefer took a deep breath then headed outside. He was doing this during the only lag in patients he’d had in the last two days. Instead of eating lunch, he was out here planting flowers, something that was well out of his wheelhouse. He really needed to get a move on so he was done before a patient showed up. He’d handle Ashley’s reaction when the time came.
That was sooner than he’d expected. He was in the waiting room, speaking to Margaret about how he would like the charting handled, when the sound of heels on the old pine planks of the floor headed in his direction. Kiefer didn’t have to guess who the clip-clip belonged to.
Ashley joined him and Margaret at the old office desk being used as Reception. “Hey, Margaret, how’s it going?”
“Fine. We’ve been busy.”
“Great. At least we can prove to the council that the clinic is needed.” She turned to him. “Dr. Bradford, could I speak to you for a minute?”
Kiefer didn’t like her tone. It reminded him of when he was in trouble and his mother used his full name. Ashley must have noticed the flowers, on which he believed he’d done an exceptional job.
He followed her down the hall. She wore a pencil skirt and dark hose that made her slim legs look sexy. He’d always been a legs man and hers were some of the finest he’d ever seen. The swish of her hips did something to his libido as well. He shouldn’t get involved with a controlling, political do-gooder. She wasn’t his type and even if she had been he’d sworn off women. He’d been kicked in the teeth and wasn’t going to put himself in that position again. Still, he could look and appreciate, couldn’t he?
Ashley stepped into his tiny office. He joined her and closed the door. She regarded at the door as if she feared she might have made a tactical error.
“What’s going on that you thought we needed to talk alone?” He was taking the offensive before she could.
“I, uh, I noticed the flowers out front. I’m assuming you did them.”
“I did.”
“You know that isn’t part of your job description...”
Kiefer took a step closer and she moved back until her bottom was against the desk. He pinned her with a look. “I do, but it needed to be done and I wanted the guys that did the destruction to know that the clinic was here to stay. I also had the security light erected for the patients as well as you. Soon it’ll be getting darker earlier.”
She gave him a perplexed look. Maybe he’d managed to stymie her. Something she’d not been for the entire time he’d known her.
“I thought—”
“That I’d done it for you?” He took a half a step closer. There was that fresh-baked cookie smell again. He wanted to breathe deeply, take it in. He raised a brow. “You made it perfectly clear the evening we met that you didn’t need my help.”
“I guess I did.”
Apparently when she didn’t have the upper hand she could be dealt with rather easily. “Well, if we have that cleared up then I’ll get back to my patients.”
“Before you go I have one other thing to discuss with you.” Her voice had taken on the tone of authority again.
“Yes?” He looked down his nose at her.
“Next Saturday is the community block party. You will need to attend.”
“Is that a request or a demand?”
Ashley’s eyes widened. “Why, I’m asking.”
“That’s not what it sounded like.”
“Are you trying to pick a fight, Doctor?”
He leaned toward her. “No, I’m just trying to remind you that I’m not one of your subjects.”
“S-subjects?” she stuttered.
Ashley truly looked as if she had no idea she’d become so wrapped up in what she wanted that she’d forgotten that others might have different ideas or plans. “I’m not employed by you. I like to be asked to do something, not told. Especially when it has to do with my spare time.”
She huffed. “Would you please come to the block party?”
He acted as if he was giving it a great deal of thought before he said, “I’ll be there. Do I need to bring something?”
“No, all the food will be taken care of. I just need the neighborhoo
d to see you as part of them.”
“I understand. Now, if you’re through with me, I have patients waiting.” He stepped toward the door, stopped and returned to face her. His hands cupped her face. “You know, it’s time I get this out of my system.” His mouth found hers. It was as sweet and perfect as he remembered.
Ashley made a small sound of resistance before she returned his kiss. Her hands went to his forearms and squeezed.
Yes, that fire was still there. Flaming.
He let her go almost as abruptly as he had taken her. She rocked back on her heels.
Ashley raised her head, giving him a haughty look. “I have an appointment downtown.”
Kiefer opened the door and spread an arm wide, indicating for her to leave first. Her shoulder brushed his chest as she moved past him. A buzz of awareness shot through him. To make it worse, her scent lingered behind her. He licked his lips.
He enjoyed pushing Ashley Marsh’s buttons. She exasperated and intrigued him at the same time. As for kissing Ashley, it was far from being out of his system. All he could think about now was doing it again.
* * *
Three evenings later Ashley was in her kitchen, preparing a simple dinner after a long day of ensuring that the plans for the block party were properly handled. She wanted the event to go off without a glitch, providing another step toward community solidarity and pride.
She hadn’t seen or spoken to Kiefer since their last discussion. Or kiss. Boy, the man could kiss. Where the first one they’d shared had been hot, this last one had been steamy and delicious, and far too short. She still didn’t remember her drive downtown.
If she was honest with herself she might admit she’d been dodging Kiefer. Something about him unnerved her. Made her want to let go of something she’d fought hard to earn. Could she believe in him? Trust him to be who he seemed to be?
She’d thanked him for the new security light more than once. It had been reassuring that she didn’t have to worry about coming home to no light other than the one over her door. It was also nice to have someone to help her out. She liked it that he’d seen to replanting the flowers. Somehow it made a statement that the clinic and he were here to stay, at least for a while. But how long would that be for? Should she let herself depend on Kiefer? Dared she? She’d trusted people before and been wrong. Could she be wrong again?
His truck was still in his parking space when she’d come home. She’d made a point not to go into the clinic. Kiefer was correct—it was his domain and not hers to oversee.
As she chopped the vegetables on the cutting board beside the sink, she sang along softly to the love song on the radio. She stopped and looked over her shoulder through the arched doorway to the hall.
Was someone there?
It wasn’t so much what she heard but how she felt. Seeing nothing, she started to place vegetables into the skillet for a stir-fry. She gave the pan on the burner a shake. Between songs, the creak of a board she knew well had her turning around. Marko stood in the doorway. She dropped the skillet, spilling half-cooked vegetables across the floor.
“How did you get in here?”
He had a smirk on his face. “The same way I go anywhere I want.”
“You broke in.” She walked to the center of the room and pointed toward the door. “Get out, Marko.”
“Who died and made you the boss of me?”
“Marko, you know I’m not afraid of you.” He stepped toward her. Ashley remained where she was, refusing to be intimidated despite her heart beating against her ribs.
“You should be,” he snarled. “I own Southriver. Don’t force me to make you pay.”
“Don’t threaten me.”
He moved into her personal space. Ashley couldn’t stop the shudder that went through her. She smelled his beer-laden breath as it brushed her face. He snarled, “I’m not threatening you. I’m making you a promise.”
Ashley backed away until she butted up against the counter. Marko matched her step for step. He leaned in and picked up the knife she’d put in the sink. She sucked in a breath when he brought it to her face.
“I’d hate for you to have an accident.”
“Ashley.” Kiefer’s voice came from the stairwell seconds before he stepped through the door.
Marko was already disappearing around the opening in the direction of her outside door.
Kiefer looked from him to her. “What the...?”
Ashley slid down the cabinet to the floor. Her pulse raced. She put her arms around her legs and her head on her knees.
* * *
Kiefer wasn’t sure what had been going on but it was too close to déjà vu for him. The situation reminded him of what had happened to his mother. In two strides he was across the width of the kitchen and looking down the hall. The outside door stood open. The screen was still slapping against the frame. He pushed the main door closed and locked it before returning to the kitchen.
Ashley still sat on the floor and he crouched down beside her. Gathering her into his arms, he held her. To his surprise she didn’t fight him, instead buried her head in his chest. Soft sobs racked her body.
He brushed his hand over her hair. “Shh, I’m right here. You’re safe.”
They stayed that way for a few minutes until Ashley slowly pulled away. Kiefer let his hold ease but didn’t completely release her. He brushed her hair from her face and looked into red eyes and a pale face. The strong woman he was so familiar with had disappeared. Compassion filled him. “Will you tell me what happened?”
She looked at him for a moment as if she didn’t understand him. Finally she said, “Marko stopped by for a visit.”
“There was more to it than that.” He looked at the food surrounding them.
She gave him a sad smile and a little nod that reminded him of a young girl who had broken her doll. It was less about heartache and more about disappointment.
“He threatened me with the knife.”
“He what? I’m calling the police.” Kiefer reached in his pocket for the phone.
“Don’t.” She grabbed his wrist.
“You have to report this.”
“I can’t. I babysat him. Our families were friends. I wasn’t crying over what he did just now but over the loss of that sweet kid, the one who wasn’t so angry with life and injustice.”
Kiefer leaned back and looked at her. She was an amazing person. Here she had been threatened with a knife in her own home and all she was worried about was the person who had threatened her. How like his mother. Where did they get that type of fortitude? What he wanted to do was kill Marko or at the very least see that he was put in jail. Kiefer had no compassion for anyone who treated a woman that way, particularly one he cared about. It had killed him to see his mother defenseless in front of him and here it was happening again.
“So you’re just going to allow him to go around threatening people?”
Ashley stood. “He didn’t hurt me.”
Kiefer came to his feet too. “He might have if I hadn’t shown up.”
“I don’t think so. He was trying to scare me.”
“I’m not willing to take that chance.” Kiefer glared down at her.
“I’m not yours to worry about.”
He looked everywhere but at her, trying to contain his irritation. “I hope your big bleeding heart doesn’t get you—or someone else—into real trouble someday.” He needed to do something or he would really become angry. “Point me in the direction of the broom and dustpan and I’ll clean this mess up.”
To his astonishment she indicated a small closet door without argument. The recent events must have got to her more than she wanted to let on.
“I’ve got oil all over me. I think I’ll get a shower.” She didn’t look back as she walked down the passageway.
Kiefer swept up and gave a quick soapy mop to the floor. She’d been preparing a meal, so she couldn’t have had dinner yet. He looked in the refrigerator and found ingredients for an omelet and salad. He was impressed with her well-stocked kitchen. Most of the women he knew would rather eat out than cook. Apparently Ashley dined at home often.
Ten minutes later he had put a simple salad together and still no Ashley. He didn’t want to cook the eggs until he knew she was ready to eat. He went down the hall in the direction of what he guessed was her bedroom. The hall led into a wide room that had to be her living area. An eclectic group of furnishings filled the space. He’d bet his paycheck the tables had been yard-sale finds Ashley had refurbished. Was there nothing the woman couldn’t do?
Small canister lighting and lamps gave the room a warm feel, but the fireplace with the whitewashed mantel was the focal point. Two comfortable-looking chairs were pulled up close to it. This was a place where Ashley really lived. There was nothing pretentious about it. Down-to-earth and natural, just like Ashley. Two doors led off the area. He went to the doorway of one. It looked like an unused bedroom. He tried the other.
This was her bedroom. It suited her. A white iron bed covered in a multicolored quilt faced the door, with windows on either side draped in some gauzy material. A large free-standing wardrobe stood to one side and an old-fashioned dresser on the other. His mother would say the room was charming.
“Ashley? I’ve put some supper together.”
There was silence.
He stepped farther into the room. “Ashley?” A whimper came from a doorway he’d not noticed before. Steam hanging in the air told him it was her bathroom. “Are you okay?”
A weak “Yes...” reached his ears. Through the fog he could see her dressed in the robe she’d worn the other morning and the necklace he’d seen at the St. Patrick’s Day party. Did she wear it all the time? She sat on the toilet lid with her hands clasped together. Her body shook.
White Wedding for a Southern Belle Page 5