Emergency Contact. Susan Peterson

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      After nodding to the two men, Ryan took the wooden porch steps two at a time. As he pulled open the screen door and stepped into the cheery farm kitchen, Betty Carson greeted him. “I’m glad they found you, Ryan. She’s in the living room. Go easy on her. Poor thing is as scared as a newborn baby rabbit.”

      Ryan gave Betty a reassuring smile. “I’ll be gentle.”

      He stepped around her and walked into the dimly lit living room. Like a lot of farm folks, Betty Carson kept the main part of the house cool by drawing heavy curtains to block the hot morning sun. The front room was dark, the furniture sitting amidst a heavy gloom.

      In spite of the poor light, Ryan spotted the woman immediately. She sat in the cushioned easy chair occupying the far corner of the room. She was covered from neck to feet with a hand-stitched quilt—one of Betty’s legendary homemade quilts, no doubt. Her legs were drawn up beneath the blanket, and her chin, small with a slight indentation in it, rested on her knees.

      She watched him from beneath a fringe of dark lashes. Lashes so dark they were startling when contrasted with the fall of white-blond hair spread out like a shawl across her slender shoulders.

      But it was the wide, iridescent green eyes beneath the straight line of bangs that caught and held his attention, sending a deep and intense awareness shooting through him. He couldn’t help but be struck by her stunning beauty.

      “Good morning,” he said softly. “My name is Donovan. Ryan Donovan. I’m a doctor.”

      At the word doctor, she stiffened a bit, her expression less friendly. “I didn’t ask for a doctor,” she said. “And I don’t need one.”

      He smiled. “Good, because I’m in the mood to just talk. Is that all right with you?”

      She stared at him in silence, her gaze penetrating, almost haunting in its directness. It seemed to sear him with a heat that was more piercing than twin lasers. But she didn’t lift her head off her knees or make any other move to indicate she was opposed to his suggestion.

      Ryan crossed the room, moving slowly, so as not to crowd or frighten her. She followed his progress with her eyes, their color radiating an unblinking brilliance in the dimness of the room. She didn’t seem tense or skittish, simply wary, as if prepared for anything.

      He pointed to the couch directly across from her. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

      She shrugged. “Do what you like. This isn’t my house.”

      Ryan leaned forward to catch her words, the sound so soft and light it was like a breeze brushing past his ear. The effect startled him and he struggled to regain his composure, feeling oddly off balance.

      What the hell was going on? He was never rattled when meeting a patient. He was the man always in control, always ready to handle the situation. The interns in the E.R. used to love it when he was the attending on-call and showed up to consult on a case. No matter how off-the-wall the E.R. walk-ins got, the interns knew that Ryan Donovan could handle them without breaking a sweat.

      He sat down and crossed one leg over the other, taking a moment to get a feel for the situation. As he slid an arm along the back of the couch, he tried to impart an air of calm he didn’t feel. But the last thing he wanted to do was spook her.

      “The Carsons asked me to come because they were concerned that you might be injured.” Ryan waited, but when she didn’t respond, he continued. “They thought you might have been in an accident.”

      She shook her head and the perfect cut of bangs ruffled a bit with the movement of her head. They parted to reveal a small cut on her forehead, but it wasn’t bleeding and didn’t appear very deep.

      “I don’t think I was in an accident.”

      She spoke each word clearly, but there was a slight hesitation, as if she was struggling to form the words before saying them. Perhaps the pause indicated some kind of head trauma, he thought. She seemed oblivious to the cut on her head.

      “May I ask your name?”

      “Tess.” The small frown was back between her brows, and she looked as though she might have searched for the name, dug it up from somewhere deep inside. “My name is Tess,” she said slowly.

      Ryan waited a beat and then asked, “No last name?”

      Beneath the quilt, her hands moved, tightening around her knees. “Just Tess.” Her shoulders braced as if anticipating his next question.

      Ryan attempted to inject some lightness into the tenseness that hovered between them. “I don’t know too many people who go by only one name.”

      She lifted her eyes, her gaze slightly mocking. “Cher. Batman. Garfield.”

      He had to laugh. “Okay, you’ve got me there. A famous celebrity and two equally well-known cartoon characters. Are you telling me you’re someone famous?”

      She shook her head and the hair shimmered in the soft light. Her chin settled back on top of her knees. “No, I’m not famous.”

      “Can you tell me how you got into the Carsons’ cornfield?”

      “I walked.”

      “Yes, but where were you before you walked into the field?”

      “Somewhere else.”

      Ryan tried another tack. “I haven’t seen you around here before. Do you live close by?”

      For the first time, she smiled, a slight trembling stretch of her lips, as if she were afraid of him but wanted to come across as compliant. Cooperative. As if she hoped that if she kept things on an even keel, everything would be all right and he’d leave her alone.

      “No. I don’t live close by. I’m visiting.”

      “Who did you come to visit? Perhaps we could contact them and tell them you’re here.”

      She shook her head. “There’s no need. Betty and Bud are out in the kitchen. They know I’m here.”

      “You’re here visiting the Carsons?” Try as he might, Ryan couldn’t keep the confusion out of his voice.

      “Yes, this is their house.” She sat forward, the tiny frown popping up between two delicately arched eyebrows again. “You didn’t know this was the Carsons’ house? Are you lost?”

      Ryan rubbed the side of his jaw. It wasn’t often that patients were able to get around him so easily. “No. I’m not lost. I thought you might be the one who was lost or confused.”

      She settled back again and smiled with relief. “No, I’m not lost, either.”

      Ryan decided that he needed to get a bit more direct. Otherwise they were going to talk in circles all morning. “You said you were visiting the Carsons. But the Carsons don’t seem to know you. Why would you visit people you don’t know?”

      Tess smiled serenely. “New friends are important. Bud and Betty are my new friends.”

      Ryan tried to СКАЧАТЬ