by Mary Brady
“I guess I’d like a cup of coffee,” he said and pushed open the door on his side of the vehicle.
“Abby Fairbanks, you beautiful thing. How the heck are you?”
Abby climbed out of her truck. “Baylor Doyle, you handsome devil, I’m just perfect.”
“I’ll say so.” He kissed her on the cheek and when she opened the back to get her bag of supplies, Baylor, big, blond and flirtatious, reached in and nabbed it before she could.
Reed got out of the SUV and came around back. Abby introduced the men and the two of them danced around each other like peacocks showing off for the hen, though they would deny it if she pointed it out.
Men. How she loved having them around.
“Baylor, is your mother still trying to set you up with Nan Hunter?”
“Nan and I are engaged.”
“What?”
“Gotcha.”
“Nan is nice people, Baylor. She shouldn’t be saddled with a hopeless flirt.”
“She’s marrying some guy from Franksville.”
“Baylor, take Reed in and give him a cup of coffee while I go see your mother.”
“Sure thing, Abby. You want him back again or should I lose him in the back forty?”
Abby gave Reed a long contemplative look. “I think I’ll have him back. He’s got a mother, too, ya know.”
She made a face at the two of them and headed off to see Evvy. Let’s see how the city man survived under the scrutiny of a Montana rancher with his guard up. She and Baylor had been friends since junior high when two boys had tried to take advantage of a slight young girl with a mop of dark curly hair and Baylor took the affront personally.
After that, every kid in the school treated Abby with respect or they gave her space. When she returned to St. Adelbert, Baylor had been first in line after her mother to welcome her home.
It was people like Baylor who made the valley a little piece of heaven she never wanted to leave.
“THAT WAS A FRIENDLY FAMILY, even the big guy in his own way,” Reed said when they were back in the SUV and headed toward town.
“Our mothers used to try to get Baylor and I together, but we could never manage to see more than friendship in each other.”
“He’s very friendly.”
Abby glanced at Reed and smiled. “He is. If he were a teddy bear, he’d sleep at the foot of my bed at night.”
Reed gave her an odd look.
“Hey, I never kissed him at the waterfall,” she said as she studied the road ahead.
“We had left the falls by then.”
This time when she glanced at him she could have sworn there was heat in his eyes and she quickly shifted away. Abby wondered if she should ask Reed to come into her house and they could talk some more about what had happened between them at the falls. But then maybe she was making it up in her head that there was something to discuss. He was a big-city fella, a very good-looking big-city fella. Probably kissed women all the time.
“Here, have a cookie,” she offered.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
At least she had accomplished her patient-care goals for the trip. The visit at the Doyle ranch had gone well. Evvy had learned to use her crutches the way she was supposed to. Not that she needed to lift a hand. Both her daughter-in-laws were at her beck and call, and from what Abby could tell, they all loved the arrangement.
She often thought it would be fun to be a part of an extended family like that. All three sons still lived at and helped run the ranch and two of them had wives and children.
The idea made her wistful until an image of the town funeral directors in wedding tuxes popped into her head.
She pushed the thought of the pair away and was rewarded with the memory of kissing Reed.
City man kisses Big Sky woman. He probably wanted to try something different, sample the Western fare. She couldn’t fault him for that. She might have felt the same way about sampling what the city had to offer. The first kiss had been sweet and soft, the second demanding and made her insides feel warm and her knees soften to jelly. And when the feelings started all over as if was happening again, she jerked her mind away.
Maybe the young undertaker kissed like that.
Yeah, he kissed like that and nobody had snapped him up? Unlikely.
After more silence, she pulled the SUV into the drive way at her house and turned off the engine. Run into the house and bolt the door was her first thought, but didn’t have a bolt on the door and maybe she’d give him a chance in case he wanted to talk.
“I was wondering—”
His cell phone burped a strange sound and he reached for his pocket to silence it. Although he had ignored two earlier calls with the same ring tone, his face was apologetic this time. “Excuse me. I do need to take this call. Thanks for taking me to meet the Harveys. I’ll come down later.” He waved as he raised the phone to his ear and leaped from the SUV.
In case he wanted to talk. What in the world had she been thinking? Give a man a chance to talk or run.
Ha! Her experience said run was the popular choice among men, the only choice for one man—her father.
She couldn’t help but think he had run because of her.
She gathered the trash from their lunch and got out. It was just as well Reed hadn’t lingered. His living above her garage had been enough to start tongues wagging. Their disappearing for several hours together wouldn’t have helped.
The wagging shouldn’t bother her, but it was important to be respected in town. Respect was part of what helped her feel she was a good fit for St. Adelbert. She was, after all, one of the few nurses in town, a person to be depended on in life-and-death situations.
She let herself in her back door.
Now after what the pair at the ranch had said about Jesse going to the most untamed part of Utah, Reed would likely feel the need to move on and the tongue-wagging would quickly find something more interesting.
The giddy memory of the feeling as he lowered his lips to hers filled her and she reveled in the delicious sensations.
Yup. Reed Maxwell needed to go.
Her landline phone started ringing as she pitched the trash in the can. She snagged the portable handset on the way to the bathroom to wash her hands and face.
The minimal dust relief would have to do for a while until she had the time for more.
“Hey, how’s the boonies, creepface?”
“Hi, Carrie,” Abby said into the phone pinched between her ear and her shoulder. “The boonies are great. How are things in the big, dirty, vice-filled rat’s nest of a city?”
Her friend, who still lived in Denver, laughed. “Hey, don’t bad-mouth my city! Yes, there are more rats, more vices than you can shake a dirty stick at, but I kind of like some of them.”
It was Abby’s turn to laugh. “You would.”
“Anyway, I only have a minute. We’re expecting an ambulance to arrive soon, but I wanted to let you know…hang on.” Carrie muted her phone and there was a sudden silence.
Carrie was a good nurse and they had been good friends. In fact, Carrie was the only one who had openly taken Abby’s side when she was accused of making a drug error that nearly killed an older woman.
“I’m back, but the ambulance is almost here. I just wanted to let you know someone was here asking about you.”
“About me? Who? When?”
“Yeah, you. Just after lunch today. I only got the chance to call you now. Busy, busy, you know.”
“Who was it, Carrie?”
“He said he was a private investigator.”
Abby got a distinct sinking feeling. “What did he want?”
“I’m not sure. He wouldn’t tell me why he was asking questions any more than I’d give him answers. He didn’t know I saw, but he got a call from a 312 area code while he was here, and it seemed like it was from the person who hired him. Oops, I was going to look that up for you before I called. I didn’t do that, either. Might be something related to th
e case and not really you personally, but I thought you would like to know.”
“I did want to know, thanks.” A sudden thought struck her. What if it had something to do with her sister or Kyle? “He didn’t ask about Lena, did he?”
“He just asked about you. He wanted to know why you left Denver and if there might be anything about you that, he said, ‘seemed off.’ Weird, huh? Anyway, all I told him was he’d be lucky to have you as a nurse if he ever got caught snooping in the wrong place. He laughed, but I could tell he didn’t think it was too funny.”
Why would anyone be asking about her? The lawsuit was settled. Was he really a reporter? Did he suspect more dirt? “Thanks, Carrie. Say, you haven’t heard anything about Jesse Maxwell have you?”
“Not a peep. I checked in with his old roommates like you asked me and they’ve heard nada. I hope he turns up soon.”
A loud squawk sounded over the phone. The ambulance had arrived on Carrie’s end.
“I gotta go. Give Lena a ‘hey’ for me.” The phone went silent and Abby knew her friend was gone for good this time.
A private investigator, not looking for her, but looking into her past. She prayed there wasn’t anything new going on.
She booted her computer up and went to get a glass of water. She sat down and slugged the water down as her online service worked on coming up.
While she waited, she read her mail, mostly bills, and wondered how her mother and Kyle were faring. Just fine, probably. People all over the world got along just fine without her constant oversight, and Kyle and her mother were probably among them. Now, if she could relax and let those two peas in a pod have a good time.
When her browser finally loaded, she typed in Area code 312 and waited some more.
It did not take long before one word blasted her in the face like the punch from a combative patient. Chicago.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ABBY KNELT BESIDE THE bucket on her kitchen floor, scrubbing at the dirt that used to be there. She thought of the man in the apartment over her garage, of how his kisses made her brain scramble and the rest of her want more.
Area code 312. She scrubbed harder. Thinking of Reed was not why she was scrubbing the kitchen floor. She was scrubbing the kitchen floor because he had sicced a private investigator on her. It had to be him, and there were only two reasons why he would do that. Jesse and Kyle.
He wanted to see if she had anything in her background that would cast suspicion in her direction about Jesse’s disappearance. She used the edge of her short fingernail to pry up a piece of stubborn something she had missed the first time she went over that area of the floor. Or he wanted to confirm his suspicions that Kyle was Jesse’s son.
She sat back on her heels and tossed the sponge into the bucket. Scrubbing the floor was supposed to get rid of all thoughts of indictments against her…and of warm lips kissing her, and the hunger rising swiftly at the touch of those lips and rising even now.
She nabbed the sponge again and squeezed out the water. The water that splashed up onto the side of the yellow bucket was barely dirty after the second scrubbing. She pushed up and carried the pail to the sink.
If only she could get rid of the dirt in her past so easily, sponge out the false accusations, the lawsuit, the losing her job in disgrace, the reporters dogging her every move and helping to teach her the fear that still occasionally tried to consume her.
She rinsed the bucket and wrung out the sponge for the last time. That was the past. There was nothing she could do about it now.
Out the window behind the sink she could see the garage apartment and inside the apartment she could see Reed toweling his hair. His chest was naked and catching the late-afternoon light. Even from this distance, she could see his well-formed muscles flexing and relaxing.
Naked. For all she knew, he was naked all the way down to his toes.
She snapped her gaze down at the sink and tried hard to squelch the feelings racing through her at the thought of a totally naked Reed Maxwell, gleaming and flexing. Oh.
She got out a clean sponge and began wiping the cabinets over the counter, wiping away things like fingerprints and jelly globs, like the past, like kisses and wanting a man who could handle the world.
By the time she had finished cleaning the upper cabinet doors inside and out, she was satisfied she could forget the things she needed to forget.
When she sat at the kitchen table to sip the tea she had made an hour ago, her head filled with thoughts of what it might be like to have a man like Reed at her side.
Oh, dear, what the heck else needed cleaning?
Twilight filled the sky by the time she had finished the lower cabinets.
Reed Maxwell had to go, her brain said. Her heart agreed. If they explored what had seemed to spark between them on the mountain trail, Kyle could pay the price.
Time to check on Lena again. She got up and rinsed the mug—she never had a sip of the tea—then started down the hallway toward the computer/storage room.
Maybe a short fling with Reed…
As she passed the mirror in the hallway, she murmured, “Stop that,” under her breath.
Her online service came up quickly and she said a brief thanks for the strong signal. When her email popped up she scanned quickly for LenaFSOTW—Lena Fairbanks, Savior of the World.
Nothing from Lena. Not surprising. They often went out into the field, sometimes without any announcement and stayed out of contact for a couple of weeks. It had been almost that long since she had heard from Lena. Almost time to fulfill one of her responsibilities—to worry and pray harder for her sister’s safety.
A subject line caught her attention on the second scan of her incoming emails. “About Lena” it said. Abby didn’t recognize the sender, but didn’t even consider sending it to the spam folder.
When she opened the email she quickly realized it was from someone in Lena’s unit.
…they were supposed to be back three days ago. Heavy fighting broke out where her squad was headed and it could be a matter of cleaning up the place and getting back here when they’re done.
I don’t want to worry you, but Lena made me promise to email you if she didn’t come back by today. She said you deserved to hear from a friend and, well, not from those solemn uniforms that might make a visit, or worse a phone call.
She said to tell you she loves you.
The message was signed by another woman soldier.
Abby sat back in her chair. The inferences in the email said Lena had expected this assignment to be quick and dangerous. She’d either be back soon or they would have run into danger—more danger than usual.
Please, please, please be okay, Lena.
Abby sent off a quick response that included a message of gratitude and a wish of safety for the sender of the email. Then she pressed the computer’s off button and rolled the chair back. Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away. There was nothing to cry about. Lena was fine and she was coming home for a visit as scheduled in a few months.
She sniffed and pushed up from the chair. What she really needed now was a bath and some sleep.
THE NEXT MORNING ABBY was just emerging from another fruitless check on Lena when the doorbell above her head jangled loudly, unexpectedly, scaring her half to death. It had to be Kyle and her mother. She brushed at the tears still in her eyes. Maybe they wanted breakfast. Maybe her mother had figured how bad a packer Kyle was and they came for his clean under wear.
She missed Kyle a lot and she was never so relieved at the thought of seeing friendly faces.
As she approached the front door, a figure, taller than her mother, cast a shadow through the curtain. She didn’t know why Reed had come to the front door, and he wasn’t a friendly face. She yanked open the door, prepared on all fronts to send him away quickly.
On the porch stood Sheriff Potts with his hat in his hand, his squad car parked in the street. Bad news.
Choking panic flashed up. She didn’t let it captu
re her this time, but the tears she hadn’t completely banished earlier burst forth in a flood.
“Abby?”
“Come in, Sheriff.” She held the door open and stepped away so he could enter.
After she closed the door, she tried to look at him, but she only cried harder.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll be right back,” she said and pointed him into the living room before she took off for the powder room at the back of the house.
Several minutes later and somewhat composed, she entered the living room where the sheriff stood with his hat still in his hands. In his early fifties, he was graying at the temples, but had a body as strong as a mountain bear, now that he took better care of himself.
“I can come back later if this is a bad time.” The sheriff stood stock-still as he made the offer. The people of the valley loved this law enforcement officer for his straightforwardness and his integrity.
“No. Whatever it is you came to tell me probably needs to be told.”
She motioned for him to sit on the couch and she took a chair nearby, clutching the fistful of tissues she had brought with her.
“Well, okay, if you’re sure.”
“Yes. I’m sure. I’m so sorry, Sheriff. I didn’t mean to blubber at you.”
He nodded. “We just got a call from the Utah Highway Patrol—”
“Utah? This isn’t about Lena?”
An instant look of understanding crossed the big man’s face. “No. It’s not about Lena. It’s not good, but it’s not like that.”
She took a deep breath of relief and then her brain began to race. Not Lena. Utah. “Jesse.”
An image of Jesse’s body broken and desiccated by the climate filled her head and she quickly shoved it away. Her mother was right when she said Abby always thought the worst first. She closed her eyes for a moment. She’d have to find a way to change herself or one day she’d wake up unable to see the good in anything.