by Lilah Rivers
Giles continued in a lower tone of voice, “I notice your star is on the rise here in Angeldale.”
Doyle nodded and said nothing, a nervous curl in his stomach. In truth, he knew the man’s name, he knew what part this interloper was playing in the life of Scott’s woman, Jodi Hoffman, and her local hosts, the Burnetts. But there was no need to reveal that, or other things he knew; in fact, there was no need to reveal anything at all.
A few feet further down the street, Giles went on, “Of course, as quickly as things change, they can change again.”
Doyle stopped walking, turned to speak, but thought better of it and kept walking.
“Or they can be made… permanent,” Giles said enticingly.
Doyle looked on, gritting his teeth. “What’s on your mind, Mr. Devlin?”
Giles sighed and rubbed his chin. “It’s our friend, your boss.”
“The mayor?” Reading Giles’ expression, Doyle guessed, “Sheriff Covey.”
“He’sa man past his time. And you, you’re a man on the come.”
“These things happen in their own time, Mr. Devlin. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“That’s not smart thinking, Deputy. After all, if certain information comes to light—”
Doyle froze in his tracks, turning to glare at Giles, looking him up and down.
Giles smiled. “Well, that would severely compromise some of Angeldale’s biggest power players, wouldn’t it?”
As Doyle turned to walk on, Giles glanced around and dropped his voice even lower. “No reason to be worried, Deputy Hollett. The people of Angeldale already have all the information they need to know who is their rightful leader.”
“And if some man were to claim to have more information, possibly disruptive information, that man might meet an unfortunate end.”
“If he weren’t smart enough to have secured some physical proof,” Giles clarified, “proof which could not be found anywhere until it was too late.”
Doyle looked Giles up and down, and he knew the man had him bettered. They kept walking, step by step approaching their mutual destiny.
“There’s more to consider than your own position,” Giles went on, leading Doyle further down that dark little street. “What about Angeldale? Your friends, the Burnetts? I’ve known men like this sheriff of yours. I’ve even had interactions with him personally. He’s… intense; he can’t express himself.”
“That’s true,” Doyle admitted, “always has been that way.”
“Of course, things like that are deep-rooted, probably go all the way back to his childhood. But a man like that can’t hold onto his temper forever. Thirty years or so, bit less, all that pressure building up. It’s going to erupt, my friend, volcanos like him always do… eventually.”
Doyle nodded, easy to imagine the sight of Scott Covey finally losing his self-control in ways most heinous and gruesome.
Giles went on, “And for this man in particular, that time is now. His career shattered, reputation ruined, and of course—the woman.”
“The woman?”
“Jodi Hoffman, from Rhode Island. She turned him around. Believe me, I’ve seen it before! She has a way of beguiling men, perhaps you noticed it for yourself.”
“No, I hardly took notice of her at all.”
“Well, not all men are as dedicated to their work as you are, nor are all men as strong in their sense of will, their sense of self-control. But few men could really be blamed, after all. A woman like that, a love like that, had and then lost—it can compromise a man, twist him in ways nobody could expect. Make him… unfit for office.”
“Funny,” Doyle said, “Scott himself used to say much the same thing.”
“Then he’d probably agree that certain things are virtually inevitable.” After a brief, tense silence, Giles went on, “And if one waits too long, the worst may take him by surprise.”
Doyle felt that he knew what Giles was suggesting—an arrangement most foul, though neither man would dare put words to it.
“But the wise man, a true leader, will see the inevitable coming, he’d be ready—he’d be there before the worst happened. His instincts would tell him what to do when the crucial moment came.”
There could be no room for doubt about Giles’ vaguely expressed content. He may as well have said it outright. And Doyle knew that, in many ways, Giles had a reasonable point. What seemed inevitable was one thing, but events had to be guided, controlled, else chaos explode in the streets of Angeldale.
And that was something Doyle Hollett would not and could not allow, not at any cost.
Chapter 51
“Believe me, Scott,” Jodi said, body cramping forward from the pain of her shame, “I feel just terribly about all this.”
They sat alone in the Burnetts’ living room, Amy and the rest all giving them a wide berth for privacy. Jodi had been terribly nervous about it, not even sure that Scott would accept the invitation. She wouldn’t have been able to blame him, were that the case. And her impulse had been to go see him in his office, but she’d blanched at the idea of being interrupted—perhaps even by Giles himself, whom she knew to still be in town.
So she was relieved when Scott stepped in and sat down, and those hot, hated words just started to pour out of Jodi’s mouth.
“I know it must have hurt you,” Jodi went on, “toying with you the way I was. What you must have thought of me!” Scott said nothing, sitting on that couch, stoic and observant as always. “But you must know that whatever misunderstandings there may have been between us, I never was flip or disinterested in knowing you.”
Jodi felt as if she was only digging herself into a hole. She knew it was making as bad an impression on Scott as she was on herself, she may as well pack her bags for Rhode Island as expect to ever see him again.
“Listen to me,” she couldn’t help saying, “going on like a lunatic. But I’m quite sane, I assure you, and hard as it may be to believe, I really only had the greater good at heart; Amy’s child is coming, and she’s getting weaker. I wasn’t in love with Giles, and I’m not in love with him now. I wasn’t going back because it pleased me, or because it ever would.”
Scott nodded, blinking slowly and letting Jodi go on, “As to what I said about my parents, missing them, well, that was true, I did miss them, but perhaps not quite so much as I was letting on. I guess I wasn’t being completely honest with you there, and I am sorry about that. You deserved better, and I oughtn’t have been dishonest with anybody. But I did feel that it was for the best—for you included. I mean, look what’s happened to since I’ve come to town. It was easy to imagine you’d be relieved to see me go.”
Scott sat there in silence, more silence than Jodi could stand.
“Did you lose your hearing at some recent point, Scott?”
He shrugged. “Actually, I’ve never heard a person say more.”
Jodi wasn’t sure how to take that, but she knew she was past the point of being cagey or clever. There was nothing left; just the truth and nothing other.
“Well, now… everything’s different now, in a lot of respects. My father will take care of Amy, Giles—well, Giles won’t be a problem anymore; not for me, anyway. I’m not sure what will come of Alice, but I know that my future has changed dramatically, and that I’ll never make the same mistakes again.” After a knowing, awkward silence, she added, “We all fall short of the mark sometimes, eh?”
Scott nodded and sighed. “We all do, yes. But what matters is the present, the future; not the past. Didn’t God say something like, ‘I’m creating something new’?”
Jodi nodded, her eyes locked on his. “Do you not perceive it?”
They shared a tender moment before Scott said, “My father taught me never to share my feelings, my emotions; that to lose control of them was the greatest weakness, a costly lapse in true manhood. If I ever struck you as cold or disinterested, it was only—it was the lesser part of myself, the part I continue to wrestle with. But perhaps my emo
tion for you was so great—was and remains and will always be thus—perhaps I knew that to release even a dribble of it would be enough to break the whole damn. And that flood may very well have washed us both away forever.”
“Then let it come, Scott, let that beautiful outpouring break down the walls around you. Your father was wrong, Scott, you know that! Despite all this going on around you now, how people say I’ve corrupted you somehow. I beg you to resist that notion. What we have… it’s God-given, Scott, it’s destined and blessed and meant to be. And that can never be a bad thing, that can’t be corrupted!”
Scott offered a little smile. “Jodi, did you think I was at all moved by their small-town talk? Those fools may prattle all they like.”
“But… isn’t it true? I mean, when I came here, you were their hero. And then we did start spending more time together—”
“You never hampered me in any way, shape, or form,” Scott was quick to say. “If anything, you inspired me; you gave me a new perspective, a way to see life and duty and even God in new and exciting ways. The happenstance of your arrival was no hindrance at all, and anybody who feels that way may have their beliefs and welcome!”
“But what about your career? If things keep going the way they are—”
“There are things at play here, Jodi, I don’t doubt that. But I cannot imagine such a good and noble person as yourself would have a hand in any such thing. And you’re here to reassure me of it.”
“I am, Scott—tenfold, if I must! Whatever mistakes I made, misjudgments, I never meant to cause you any harm.”
“No,” Scott agreed, “so you needn’t worry about it any more than I am.”
“But if there’s some corruption going on to force you out—”
“Then perhaps that will succeed, perhaps not. It won’t change me or my commitments.”
“No,” Jodi said, knowing the sad joy in her own voice, “of course not.”
Scott smiled. “I’ll find some way to get by, Jodi. Though I understand if you’d rather not hitch your wagon to such a falling star as mine.”
“No, Scott, that’s not what I mean at all.”
“And any woman has a right to know the man she intends can make a good living. It’s the least of what she should expect, especially a woman of your refined background; a physician’s daughter, and from the East Coast no less.”
Jodi waved him off. “I’m no more refined than any flibbertigibbet.”
“Flibbertigibbet? Don’t you believe it—I certainly don’t.”
After a dubious silence, Jodi asked, “No?”
Scott looked deep into her eyes. “No. And I will find a way to support you, to support us both… and our children.”
“Our—?”
A little gasp leaked out from across the room, and Jodi and Scott looked over to see Ellen standing in the nearby hallway, squeaking with delight and turning to retract into the shadows.
Turned to look at one another, they enjoyed a little chuckle, but it quickly dribbled away into silence as the two shared a tender, wordless moment of sweet consecration.
Chapter 52
Amy looked up at kindly Martin Hoffman as he checked her over. His aging face revealed little of what he was thinking—eyes combing her body, fingers on her pulse points, listening to the beating of her heart.
“We’re so grateful you’ve come out,” Amy told him, “more than I can say.”
“Think nothing of it, Amy. When I heard what your situation was, I didn’t hesitate.”
“But what of your practice, your patients?”
Martin smiled. “You’re so courteous and caring, as always. What a bright light you were in our lives, Amy, such a good and dear friend to our Jodi.”
“Not a bad influence?”
Martin huffed and shook his head. He didn’t even answer, as if the very notion was beneath his contempt.
“And these dizzy spells,” Martin asked, “they’re becoming more frequent?” As Amy nodded, he pressed the backs of his fingers against the side of her neck. “The last one was?”
“Two days ago, and I had one three days before that.”
He nodded. “Nothing recently.”
“Not since you arrived. I guess you really are good!” She chucked, and he allowed himself a brief respite before returning to his mirthless stoicism.
“Your husband is also well? No health concerns, no dizziness?”
“None that he’s told me about.”
“No diseases passing among the livestock, anthrax or anything of the sort?”
“None, praise God! Even just to mention such a thing makes my blood run cold.”
Martin nodded, glancing at her body again. “Does your blood often do that? Run cold, I mean? Not as an expression, but… do you have chills, are you often cold?”
“No more than any married woman!” She chuckled briefly, but it didn’t last. “A bit at night, I suppose.”
“You always did have a delightful sense of humor,” Martin said warmly. “Ellen and I agreed that Providence would be a poorer place for your absence.”
Amy nodded, bittersweet memories returning her to that tender time. “I wasn’t at my happiest when I left, but I knew I wouldn’t be happier if I’d stayed. I wish I’d been happier for Jodi, truly happier, and less fearful for myself. But I see now that God really does have a way of working these things out.”
“In aid of those who help themselves.”
“Precisely.” Amy nodded. “It’s as I’ve always said.”
“And I’m glad your decision has served you in such good stead, and your sense of humor. The one supports the other, I suppose.”
Amy gave that some thought, the older man’s wisdom seeming clear and true as it always had. “I suppose so,” Amy agreed, forever impressed with her old friend’s insight.
“But as much as you may want to rely upon your wit to deflect from less pleasant things, I’m hoping we set that defense aside, for now. I’m your doctor, there’s no need to deflect with me.”
“Understood, Doctor,” Amy confirmed with exaggerated formality.
“Sleeping well?”
“I don’t know… I’m sleeping all the while.”
“Uninterrupted, then?” He pressed, and Amy nodded. “Diet?”
Amy tilted her head. “Are you calling me fat? Doctor, I’m pregnant!” Another little chuckle passed, not managing to last long.
“In all seriousness,” Martin said.
Amy gave it some thought, shrugging. “My appetite’s been healthy, we grow plenty of all we need.”
Martin nodded. “Your body needs more nutrients now, more sleep, more everything.”
“Well, like I said, I eat plenty of everything.”
“You’ll need more of some things now, Amy—more iron, more calcium, more protein. This midwife of yours, did she prescribe anything?”
“Saint John’s Wort,” Amy said. “That isn’t good?”
“It isn’t good enough, not in your case. But I’ve brought some things with me, supplements we’ll be able to inject hypodermically—”
“Inject? You mean… needles?”