“Oh, sure, like that’s going to happen these days.”
“It could, you know.”
Karah Lee felt a change of subject coming on. “Okay, so you’re telling me Cheyenne came here to start a clinic and fell in love.”
Blaze shook his head. “Nope. She came here to heal after her sister died, then she met me, right off, in the middle of the night.”
Karah Lee sighed softly. She wasn’t going to get these files finished tonight if she didn’t shut up and get to work. “Okay, I’ll bite. How did she meet you in the middle of the night?”
“I was searching for some orphaned kittens in this vacant house across the lake from the ranch, and here comes Cheyenne marching in with a flashlight, like she owned the place. Like to’ve scared me to death, because I wasn’t supposed to be there. I scared her, too. She pulled a gun on me.”
“You’re kidding.” Cheyenne with a weapon?
“When Dane showed up a few minutes later, she shot him right in the face with pepper spray.”
Karah Lee chuckled, then bit her lip. “So that’s what you meant the other day when you mentioned her dead-on shot with pepper spray. That must have hurt.”
“Yep. But she didn’t know how to handle the stuff, and she caught herself with it, too. I ended up dunking them both in the lake until the burning stopped.” He adjusted his position at the counter, grinning at the memory. “But you know what? I think Dane lost it right there, soon as he met her, pepper spray and all.”
“Imagine that,” Karah Lee said dryly. “My own personal technique is to throw up on them. That’ll bring the guys running.”
Blaze’s laughter echoed through the empty clinic. “You threw up on Taylor?”
“Who said it was Taylor?”
“Something about the way you act with each other when he’s around, and he’s around a lot more since you came.”
“I think you’ve got a good imagination. Now, you want to stop distracting me and let me get this work done?”
Fawn heard laughter, and glared through the darkness of the cramped closet. What were they doing out there, having a party while she was back here suffocating? Her hands were so slimy with sweat, they slid from the sides of the hot-water heater, and she was just glad the thing was one of those insulated models, so at least it hadn’t fried her when she touched it.
Still, she was doing a slow roast, getting a whiff of natural gas every few seconds that made her gag. Not good on an upset stomach. This thing needed some routine maintenance about five years ago.
The flame on the unit kicked on while she huddled there, and she could feel the temperature slowly start to rise in the closet as she caught another whiff of gas.
She felt dizzy. She had to remind herself that she’d been through worse. A lot worse. Just hang on a little longer. They can’t stay out there all night.
She closed her eyes and did what she always did during the worst times, when she couldn’t face what was happening to her. In her mind she danced on the theater-guild stage back home, wearing a white satin dress, trimmed in lace and pearls and sequins, with a tiara on her head. The prince danced with her—he wore a white tuxedo instead of those stupid tights the prince wore in the musical they’d had two years ago at school.
This prince was strong, and kind, and he smiled at her as if he enjoyed dancing with her. He kept his hands where they should be, and she could tell by the way he looked at her that this was a prince who saw something more than just her eyes—he saw into her heart, and he liked what he saw.
Pure fairy tale. But it was hers, and this prince would never leave.
Now, if those overtimers out front would just leave…
“Do you believe in soul mates?” Blaze pulled out the other office chair and swept beneath it.
Karah Lee deleted a mistake on the screen and scowled at him. “You mean like love at first sight? Nope. What a load of—”
“I don’t mean love at first sight, I mean like two people belonging together since before they ever meet.”
Karah Lee sighed and sat back. Obviously, this kid was in a mood to talk. “Don’t tell me you’re in love.”
“Me? No. I’m talking about Dane and Cheyenne.”
“Ah. The couple of the century.”
“I think they belong together. Dane was the one who talked her into opening the clinic, and she was the one who convinced him he’d make a good mayor.”
“So Dane Gideon is new at mayoring?” Karah Lee asked.
“Yes, and he’s great at it. I mean, the last one, Austin Barlow, was a real jerk, always throwing his weight around, trying to hit on Cheyenne, trying to blame me for all kinds of stuff that happened last year.”
“Stuff like what?”
“Fires. Sunk boats. Pets shot.”
“Did they ever find out who did it?” Karah Lee asked. This place had an interesting recent history.
“Sure did. It was Austin Barlow’s own son. He nearly killed Cheyenne before we caught him, too. Now the son’s doing time in a juvenile detention center—he had some psychological problems, but they didn’t meet the definition of criminal insanity—and I heard Austin’s working real estate up in Springfield. I just hope he never comes back. Now, back to Dane and Chey. They’re good together.”
“I can tell you feel that way,” Karah Lee said dryly. “So just because she’s a good person, he decided to marry her?”
“Not that.” Blaze stopped sweeping for a moment, as if deep in thought. “It’s almost like they were meant to be together from the beginning. Both of them are the kind of people to help others, you know? It’s like their hearts are in the right place, and that place is the same for both of them, and God meant for them to share the load. You know, to bless each other.”
Karah Lee held her hands out in front of her face, as if to ward Blaze away. “Okay, sorry, but that’s a little too much sweetness and sunshine for one day. Just call me a die-hard cynic, but if you think relationships are that simple, you’d better avoid marriage. It never works that way. Now, would you let me work? I’m just getting the hang of this program.”
Trickles of sweat raced down Fawn’s face. She was going to suffocate if she didn’t get out of this closet. The voices stopped in the other room, and for a couple of minutes she thought maybe they had left and she hadn’t heard them over the hiss of the gas flame at the bottom of this stupid hot-water heater.
Then the heater kicked off, and she heard the clatter of a computer keyboard.
Someone was still in there working.
Fawn wanted to scream! How much longer would they keep it up? If she had to stay in this stupid sauna much longer, they’d come in the morning and find her in a puddle, all sweated out on the floor.
This was a crazy idea, anyway. Coming to Hideaway was crazy. What made her think she was smart enough to figure out what was going on at that construction site when nobody else knew? And what made her think anybody’d listen to her even if she did figure it out?
She was a loser. Total loser. She deserved to sweat to death on the bathroom floor.
But she didn’t want to die. She needed a drink. Now. If she kept it quiet, she could probably creep to the sink and stick her mouth under the faucet.
She’d never been so thirsty in her life.
She reached through the darkness until her fingers touched the wooden door. It wasn’t latched, since she hadn’t been able to squeeze completely inside the closet. Slowly and carefully, she eased the door open until she could see the gray outline of the toilet and the sink.
She started to step from the closet and tripped over the raised threshold, bumping against the closet door. It swung back and thudded against the wall.
She held her breath, eyes wide. She was caught!
“What was that?” Karah Lee asked, suddenly aware that they’d been working for nearly an hour—or rather, talking. Blaze was working while he talked, but Karah Lee couldn’t do patient charts and hold a conversation.
“Probably th
e old water softener kicking into its cycle,” Blaze said. “That thing needs to be replaced. Rinsing with the water here is like trying to rinse with pond scum. Cheyenne says it’s the next thing on her list of items for replacement. I’ll put it in as soon as she buys one.”
“You install water softeners, too?” Karah Lee exclaimed. “Is there anything you don’t do?”
He grinned. “Admit it, I’m quite a guy.”
“Well, maybe you’re not too bad for a—” She broke off. She did have a bad habit of blurting out exactly what was on her mind at any given time, and it was something she needed to learn to control better, especially when it might embarrass someone…or give him an ego trip.
He was silent for about ten seconds. The teasing light in his eyes grew less vivid. “Not too bad for a what?” he asked softly.
She hesitated.
“You meant to say I’m not bad for a black kid?” It was nearly a whisper, and it suddenly held a depth of hurt.
She glared at him. “I was going to say for a good-looking teenager who’s too big for his britches, but you can forget the good-looking part. I don’t like it when people are ashamed of their heritage.”
He blinked at her, and the edges of hurt smoothed from his expression. Some of the light returned to his eyes. “You think I’m good-looking?”
“Oh, right, like you don’t have any mirrors over at that ranch.”
The grin broadened.
“Don’t forget the part about being too big for your britches.”
“I’m not even sure what that means.” He looked down at his baggy scrubs.
“It’s an expression my mother used when my sister and I got too cocky when we got good grades in school, or won an award.” She heard another thump. “There’s the noise again. Are you sure it’s the water softener?”
Blaze glanced at the clock over the computer. “I think so. That thing’s loud, and it’s timed to start its cycle at six. I’ll go check.”
Fawn didn’t have time to crawl back into the closet with the heater, so she stood in the bathroom shadows and listened to the footsteps grow louder. She was almost miserable enough to step out into the hallway with her hands up and beg for mercy. Maybe Blaze wouldn’t turn her in, and maybe Dr. Karah Lee would help her.
But then again, what if the doc called the ranger and the sheriff?
“Like I thought, it’s the water softener,” came Blaze’s voice less than a foot from where Fawn stood.
She kept her eyes closed and didn’t breathe, tried not to even think as she waited for him to move away. She heard him humming under his breath as he moved toward the exam room across the hall from where she hid.
“Well, I’ve got my cleaning done,” he called as he returned to the front of the clinic. “Got anything else for me?”
“Not tonight.”
“You want me to leave you the keys and let you lock up?”
“Nope, I’ll finish this tomorrow. Bertie and Edith are doing a new grand opening of their dining room tonight, opening it to the public. I want to get there ahead of the crowd. Let’s go.”
Fawn slumped against the wall with relief as she listened to keys jingling out front, the voices diminishing to silence.
When she was sure she was alone, she rushed to the sink and turned on the cold water, cupped her hands below the stream and filled them, then drank, slurping noisily, splashing her hot face. It felt so good she did it again and again, until she couldn’t swallow any more. She took paper towels and dried herself as well as she could, then tossed the towels and rushed to the front of the office.
She still felt hot and icky, but she wanted to try out the computer. She pulled the storage device from her pocket as she stepped into the reception area, glancing warily toward the entry door at the far left corner of the waiting room. Unfortunately, if someone opened that door, they would see her through the reception window.
She sank into the chair in front of the computer monitor. The seat was still warm from where the doctor had been sitting.
It took a minute for the machine to go through its chatter phase, and when the final screen came up, it asked for a password.
Fawn stared at the screen and groaned. She pressed the exit button, but the screen wouldn’t budge.
She bent down and studied the front of the computer itself, and found the USB port. She plugged the device into it, hoping it might jump-start some other program the way a CD would.
Nothing.
Okay. This could still work. She just needed to figure out the right password.
After a search around the desk for a cheat sheet—such as a slip of paper with some letters and numbers on it, she started pulling out drawers and rummaging through papers on the stackable files.
Nothing.
Okay, she could still do this. She started punching in likely words and numbers. HideawayClinic1…clinichide away…doctorclinic.
After she hit enter the third time, the screen blinked off and the computer powered down with a mechanical whine.
She gasped. “No!” It wasn’t supposed to be this way!
She tried to turn the computer back on, but nothing worked. She couldn’t get the stupid thing to come back on!
She pulled the flash drive from the computer base and searched through the rest of the clinic for another computer, a laptop or something she might be able to use.
There was nothing. She stuck the device back into her pocket and slumped into a chair in the waiting room. What now?
She would have to find another computer, but how? She was sleeping in a barn! She wasn’t crazy enough to walk up to some stranger on the street and ask if she could borrow a laptop for a few minutes. She had no one to trust.
People in danger…
But what was she supposed to do about it? “Bruce, why did you get me into this? How could you leave me like this?”
Her voice seemed to echo through the clinic, and then the telephone rang, startling her. She cried out, then sank into the shadows of the room beside the coffee table.
The answering machine went through its greeting, but no one left a message.
Silence filled the place except for the thlick-thlick-thlick of the clock on the wall, and the hum of the soda vending machine out in the foyer. The thought of soda made Fawn thirsty again. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her roll of bills, sorted through them and cursed aloud. No ones or fives. She didn’t have change for a vending machine. She’d have to rob one.
That would have to wait, though, since the vending machines were out in the foyer, where anyone walking past the entrance could see in. Later, when the general store and gift shop, bakery and library closed, she would try to get some food from the machine. She might have to shake it, and the noise would attract attention if she wasn’t careful.
For now, she would lie low, wait and rest. If only she felt better. She wished she had the guts to go up to Dr. Karah Lee and ask for help, but how much would it cost? Her life?
Fawn pulled out the tiny flashlight she’d brought with her, and after glancing toward the entry door again, she pressed the on button and shone the tiny beam over the coffee table stacked with magazines and books.
Last Friday, while she sat out here with Fred and Myrt and Flo and the other old geezers, she’d studied the titles of those books. Not the magazines or grown-up novels or self-help books, but the little hardbacks for children.
She’d wanted so badly to sprawl out on the floor and bury herself in those stories and forget about everything that was going on around her, forget the pain she was in…and the danger.
She placed the light between her teeth and picked up the first book. This was stupid, she knew. The book was written for eight-year-olds probably fifty years ago. Lady and the Tramp. The letters blurred as her eyes filled with hot tears that burned down her face.
She felt so feverish.
The next book was 101 Dalmatians. She closed her eyes and could still see the black-and-white splotches behind her burning
lids as more tears squeezed from between them.
She stuck the books under her arm and turned toward the hallway, feeling comfort in the very presence of the familiar books Great-Grandma used to read to her so many years ago. She’d loved those books. She could almost hear those puppies barking.
Now she could close her eyes and see Great-Grandma’s face. As she crept into the back room and climbed onto the neatly made exam bed, Fawn pulled the books against her chest. She turned out the flashlight and closed her eyes and tried hard to think about puppies and sunshine and flowers and laughter.
Could life ever be like that again?
Chapter Twenty
Karah Lee’s first solo distress call came at five-thirty Tuesday morning, thirty minutes before Taylor was scheduled to take over. She pulled on her old paramedic uniform, with the cargo shorts she’d worn Sunday, and checked her map to make sure of the location.
This one shouldn’t be much trouble. It was two houses down from the rental that had been demolished last Friday. Her rental.
She was walking out the front door with her rescue backpack over her shoulder, when headlights slid through the early-morning grayness and pulled to a stop in front of her on the circle driveway. Taylor.
He reached across the seat and shoved the door open from inside. “Get in.”
She didn’t argue until she was buckled up. “I probably shouldn’t remind you that I took this job so you wouldn’t have to be on call 24/7.”
“You’re off in twenty-five minutes, and I want to be ready to take over in case it’s a long one.”
“Right, and you probably overheard the address over the radio.”
He gave her a quick grin. “That too.”
Taylor Jackson had a devastating grin. Humor lit his eyes and caressed every part of his face, transforming him from the usually serious, intense ranger-on-the-job to someone who knew not to take life too seriously.
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