Where Love Abides. Irene Hannon

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      As he reached forward to turn the key in the ignition, the woman shrank back as far as possible into the corner of the front seat. She didn’t look at him once during the ten-minute drive. Nor did she speak. And the instant the car came to a stop in front of the medical office, she groped for her door handle.

      “I control the locks,” he told her. “I’ll help you out.”

      As Dale circled the car, he noted Sam’s vehicle parked in front of the building. The town physician must have left as soon as he’d received the call, which didn’t surprise Dale. After two years in Oak Hill, Sam Martin had become a valued member of the community, and his responsiveness was already legendary.

      Once Dale reached her door, he released the locks and pulled it open. She was clutching her shoulder purse against her chest, her expression wary, and she ignored the hand he extended, struggling to stand on her own. He dropped his hand and kept his distance, but stayed close enough to save her from a fall if she started to nosedive again.

      “The office is there.” He nodded over his shoulder. A light over the front door illuminated a sign that said Sam Martin, M.D.

      Edging around Dale, the woman headed toward the door. Close on her heels, he leaned around her and twisted the knob, pushed the door open, then entered behind her.

      A tall, trim man with sandy hair that was brushed with glints of silver at the temples stepped through an inner door. “Hi, Dale.”

      “Sam. Thanks for coming. I haven’t confirmed it yet, but I think your patient’s name is Christine Turner.” At the woman’s startled look, Dale glanced at her. “I ran a license check. Standard procedure. And I’m Dale Lewis, just to make things even. This is Dr. Martin.”

      “We can worry about the introductions later. Right now that bump needs attention.” Sam moved forward and tilted her chin up, scrutinizing the injury.

      Interesting, Dale noted. She didn’t seem frightened of Sam.

      “Any idea how long you were unconscious?” Sam asked her.

      “No. I remember sliding across the road, and the truck spun around. I hit my head on the door window. After the truck stopped, I unbuckled my seat belt and leaned down to pick up my purse from the floor on the passenger side. That’s the last thing I remember until I saw him—” she gave a short jerk of her head in Dale’s direction “—leaning over me.”

      “I don’t think she was out long,” Dale offered. “The engine was still pinging when I arrived. A few minutes, tops.”

      “That’s good. So is the fact that your memory of the event is clear. But let’s take a look.” He stepped aside to usher her into his office, directing his next comment to Dale. “I assume you’re going to wait?”

      “Yes.”

      While Sam and Christine disappeared into the examining room, Dale settled into a chair in the waiting area and pulled out his cell phone. Using speed dial, the connection took mere seconds.

      “Hi, Mom. Sorry, but I’ve been delayed again. I came across an accident and had to bring the victim into town. Sam’s looking her over now. Everything okay with Jenna?”

      He listened for a couple of minutes, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, while his mother described the youngster’s latest antics. His daughter was a source of joy to both of them, and he was glad once again that he’d come home after Linda died. It was far safer being sheriff of Oak Hill than a street cop in L.A. And he didn’t want his daughter to grow up without either parent.

      Besides, with his mother willing to watch Jenna most days, he didn’t have to resort to day care very often. Both he and Linda had agreed that the decision to have children brought with it a responsibility to raise them. They hadn’t believed in delegating that task to an outside service, unless there was simply no other option. He was glad he’d been able to follow through on that commitment.

      “Look, I should be wrapping up here in the next half hour,” Dale responded when his mother finished the tale of Jenna’s latest adventure. “Don’t hold dinner any longer. I’ll eat later. See you soon.”

      By the time Dale checked his voice mail at work and returned a couple of calls, Sam appeared in the door to the waiting room, closing it with a soft click behind him. Dale rose and tucked the phone back into its holder.

      “Is she okay?”

      “I think so. Looks like a mild concussion. I’d feel better if she had an X-ray, but she’s not too receptive to that idea. I’ve alerted her to the things to watch for and advised her to call me if she experiences any troublesome symptoms. In any case, she needs to take it easy for the next couple of days, and I’d prefer that she not spend tonight alone. It would be better if someone was close by in case she needs help.”

      “I asked about family. Didn’t sound like she had any.”

      “That’s what she said. You were right about her identity, too. She bought the Harrison place a couple of months ago and started an organic farm. Cara’s been meaning to call her about supplying the restaurant. My wife always has her ear to the ground for natural ingredients.”

      Now the pieces fell into place. Dale recalled hearing some talk about the new organic farm a few miles from town. No one had seen much of the owner, but rumor had it that she lived—and worked—alone.

      “Maybe I’ll run her over to Marge’s. The B and B isn’t usually that busy midweek.”

      Sam flashed him a smile. “I like that idea. She’ll be well taken care of there.”

      “Yeah. Marge is a good woman.” An answering smile softened Dale’s serious demeanor for a brief moment. “Let me ask you something, Sam. Did your patient act a bit…odd…with you?”

      Puzzled, Sam regarded the sheriff. “I’m not sure what you mean. She’s a little woozy from the bump on her head, but I didn’t pick up anything abnormal in her behavior. Why?”

      Raking his fingers through his hair, Dale shrugged. “She seemed pretty scared when I tried to help her. And she didn’t want me to get anywhere near her. I wondered if alcohol could be causing that reaction, but I didn’t detect any evidence of it. Any chance she might be on something else that could produce irrational behavior?”

      “I didn’t see any indication of that. She was very coherent, and I didn’t notice any anxiety while I examined her. Under the circumstances, the behavior I observed seemed normal.”

      “Okay. Thanks. I’ll run her over to Marge’s. Sorry again about interrupting your evening. Give Cara my apologies, too.”

      Grinning, Sam stuck his hands in his pockets. “She’s used to far worse, trust me. Compared to my old hours in Philadelphia, Oak Hill is a cakewalk.”

      The inner door opened, and Christine appeared on the threshold. There was a bit more color in her cheeks, and she was holding an ice pack gingerly against her temple.

      “The sheriff has suggested you spend the night at the Oak Hill Inn, Ms. Turner, and I second that motion,” Sam told her. “I’d rather you not be alone for the next few hours in case you have any problems.”

      Expecting an argument, СКАЧАТЬ