Necessary Action Page 7

  SueAnn gave her hand a weak squeeze. “Then I know you will fight harder to save my baby—and me—than anyone else. I believe in you.”

  Maybe she shouldn’t. Melanie gently squeezed back before releasing her hand. “You rest here for a while. Daryl, you stay with her. Make sure she drinks some more water.”

  “I will.”

  Melanie led Tom out of the infirmary and closed the door. But her frustration erupted in a noisy groan as she stormed across the room to pull out the obstetrics textbook she’d been poring over these past few weeks.

  Tom planted himself in the middle of the room while she turned to the index and searched for the information she wanted to double-check. “If she needs to see a regular doctor, why doesn’t she just go?”

  “Things are complicated around here. Henry and Abby—they make deals. They do nice things for people. But they expect loyalty in return.” She set the open book on top of the shelf and flipped through the pages. “They helped Daryl and SueAnn get a house. The yellow one at the end of the lane.”

  “I saw it. Looks like a new build. That’s a pretty expensive bribe to ensure someone’s loyalty.”

  “Daryl spent time in prison for stealing cars. He served his time and all—before he met SueAnn. She knows his background, and he’s so good to her. But it’s been hard for them to get credit anywhere because of his record.”

  “So your uncle bought him the house. And now Daryl owes him. They have to stay.”

  She paused in the middle of skimming the page and turned. Maybe it wasn’t too late for Tom to do the smart thing and get out of here. “Henry worries that if people leave, they won’t come back. Like SueAnn’s brother. Richard left the farm four months ago, and we haven’t seen him since. He’s a screwup sometimes, probably drinks more than he should, but I can’t believe he’d upset his sister like this.”

  “A man doesn’t disappear for no reason.” Tom splayed his hands at his waist, drawing her attention to the gun, the knife and the threat of danger that emanated from his very posture. “He either doesn’t want to be found—or something’s keeping him from contacting the people he cares about.”

  “You want to disappear.”

  “I’ve got a reason.”

  She supposed he did if he suffered from PTSD. But the Richard Lloyd she knew was a different sort of man. “Richard likes to have a good time and laugh and be with people. He and Daryl hunt and fish all the time. He’s a relentless flirt, even though every girl around here knows not to take him seriously. I can’t see him ever wanting to be alone like you do.”

  “You’re that worried about SueAnn and her brother?”

  Melanie turned back to her textbook to recheck the information she’d already memorized. But she wasn’t a physician and she didn’t have access to any of those medications. “I used to think this was an idyllic place. Life was simple, but productive. I was honoring my father’s legacy by staying here and helping the farm become a success.” She closed the heavy book, feeling helpless to fix anyone’s problems. “Now things are so...”

  “So what?” Before she realized he’d even crossed the room, Tom’s fingers wrapped around her elbow. He turned her to face him, leaving Melanie no place to retreat. “Is there something going on here I need to know about before I join the team? What did Henry do to ensure your loyalty?”

  Didn’t the man have any notion of personal space? His shoulders blocked her view of the infirmary, and every breath she took was tinged with the scents of musky heat and antiseptic coming off his skin.

  She tilted up her chin to meet the scrutiny in his moss-colored eyes. She probably shouldn’t tell him how much she was questioning her loyalty to her uncle right now. “He paid for my schooling and the expenses of living in Kansas City for a year and a half. He put a roof over my head and raised me after Dad’s death. I should be grateful.”

  “Should be?”

  That was a stupid slip of the tongue. “I am grateful. The Ozarks are a beautiful place to grow up. And I always wanted to do something in the field of medicine. I owe that to him.”

  “But?”

  Melanie flattened her hand in the middle of his chest and pushed him back a step so she could think and breathe properly. “Why can’t you just accept the answers I give you? Why does every answer lead to another question?”

  “Because I don’t think you’re telling me everything.”

  And she wasn’t about to. No matter how tempting his strength and penchant for rescuing a damsel in distress might be, she didn’t really know Tom—my friends call me Duff—Maynard. If she didn’t trust the people she knew well around here, why should she trust an outsider?

  But Tom had protected her from Silas’s temper and helped SueAnn, and she had silently agreed to make the effort to be his friend, so she settled for sharing a different truth. Turning her back to him, she picked up the textbook and hugged it to her chest. “I wish I could get out of this place and go back to school again. I’m trained for basic medical procedures and illnesses—not a hypertensive pregnant woman who may need an emergency C-section. I’m reading everything I can to help SueAnn. But it’s not the same as having the real experience and a sterile operating room.”

  The creak of leather in his belt or holster was the only sound to give him away as he moved in beside her. He ran his fingertip across the spines of the top row of books. “Have you read all these?”

  “Why have books if you’re not going to read them?”

  He pulled out her tattered copy of Jane Eyre, checking the last page number and frowning before handing it over to her. “You liked going to school?”

  “I take it you didn’t?”

  “I got through it well enough to play football and graduate. But the classwork wasn’t really my thing.”

  She plucked the novel from his hand before sliding both books back into their places on the shelf. “I came home to work off the debt I owed my aunt and uncle since they paid for my classes. But I’d go back to school in a heartbeat if I could—back to KC to finish my nursing or even premed degree.”

  “I grew up in KC.”

  Melanie’s pulse picked up at that casual pronouncement. “You know Kansas City?”

  “Chiefs football. Jazz. Barbecue.” He glanced around her humble home with its handwoven throw rugs and rustic decor. “I guess I figured you lived out here all your life. The city traffic didn’t scare you? You weren’t overwhelmed by all the crowds and noise?”

  Melanie shook her head. The city had been an exciting place for her. She’d made friends, and had learned so much about so many things beyond her books and professors and practicums. This could be dangerous territory for her, finding one more thing she had in common with Tom. “What was your favorite part of KC?”

  “I guess I never really thought about it before,” he said.

  “I loved exploring it,” she gushed. “The Plaza lights on Thanksgiving night. Union Station and its science center. The museums. Maybe there’s something in my genes. I’ve got an ancestor who was a wagon-train master on the Santa Fe Trail. I grew up learning all the waterways and trees and paths around these hills. The city just has different terrain—and a different sort of wildlife.”

  He arched an eyebrow at that comment, making her wonder if she sounded foolish to him. But she wasn’t going to apologize for possessing a sense of adventure. She wasn’t ashamed of hoping for something better than the life she had here. “I’m going back to Kansas City to finish my degree one day. When the time is right, nobody will be able to stop me.”

  “When the time is right?” Those sharp green eyes seemed to be reading more into this conversation than she wanted him to. “If you’ve got a dream that big, why don’t you go for it? You can get a job, scholarships, loans if money’s the issue.”

  “I have other reasons for staying here.”

>   He nodded toward the infirmary door. “Like your friend?”

  “Somebody has to take care of SueAnn.”

  “You put your dreams on hold for a friend?”

  And a father.

  He captured the tendril of hair that must have sprung free again and tucked the independent lock behind her ear. Why did this man keep finding reasons to touch her? And why wasn’t she protesting his boldness?

  “You are one surprise after another, Doc.”

  Melanie groaned at the teasing misnomer. “I told you I wasn’t—”

  Her front door swung open without so much as a knock and Silas Danvers strolled in. Although she was expected to keep her door unlocked during the day in case there was a medical emergency, she was thinking seriously about installing a dead bolt on her door. “Don’t tell me you’re hurt now, too.”

  The bruise swelling around his cheek and left eye said he was, but that wasn’t why he was here. She interpreted Silas’s clean shirt and too-busy-for-niceties glare as a no. “I heard Daryl was back. He didn’t check in. Is he here?”

  Tom beat her to the infirmary door, planting himself in Silas’s path. “His wife wasn’t feeling well. Give them a few minutes.”

  “Was I talking to you? I need to know if he got everything on the list I sent with him.”

  “What list is that?” When Tom rolled his shoulders as if he was willing to go another round with Silas, Melanie tapped his forearm and urged him to step aside.

  With eight new stitches in his arm, he didn’t need to be going another round with anybody. She didn’t want a fight in her home, and she certainly didn’t want these two in a ruckus that would upset SueAnn further. “It’s okay. He can go in.”

  Now why had she turned to Tom for help in averting an argument? Was she so certain Silas wouldn’t listen to her that anyone else would make a better ally? Or was she really buying into Tom’s efforts to become her friend? With a glance down to where her hand touched his skin, Tom nodded and stepped away.

  Silas must have interpreted his response to her request as a sign of weakness. Smirking, he brushed past Tom and opened the door. “Meet me on the porch of the main house. I’ll show you where you can bunk and park your rig.” He eyed the leather straps of Tom’s holster. “And find a less conspicuous way to wear that gun. You’ll scare the tourists.”

  “You get a lot of visitors on the property after dark?” Tom’s question was riddled with sarcasm. Silas closed the door with only a sneer for an answer. “I’m glad I punched him in the face, too. Guess that’s my exit cue.”

  Melanie followed as he scooped up his duffel bag and swung it onto his uninjured shoulder. “Thanks for helping with SueAnn. And for sharing about your mother.”

  “Thanks for puttin’ me back together, Doc.” He put up a hand in apology at using the nickname. “I know. Can’t seem to help myself. You can call me Duff if it’ll make you feel better.”

  “We’ll see.” Melanie opened the door for him. “What does Duff mean, anyway?”

  “Oh, now that I’m leaving, she’s interested. Meet me again sometime, and I’ll tell you.” He stepped outside. “You know, maybe you’ve got it all backward with that nickname rule. I don’t think it has anything to do with putting distance between us. It could mean I want to be a little closer.”

  “You want to be closer to Baldy?”

  He laughed and Melanie felt a genuine smile forming on her lips.

  “I like you, Melanie Fiske. You make me laugh. I haven’t done enough of that lately. I’ll see you around.”

  “You’ll see me tomorrow when you stop by for me to check those stitches.”

  He touched his forehead in a salute. His gaze shot past her head and his grin faded as Silas opened the infirmary door behind her. There seemed to be a definite purpose when Tom reached out to catch the end of her braid and give it a little tug. “I’ll stop by in the morning, Doc, and give you that first defense lesson.”

  “See you then.” Melanie followed Tom out into the stifling heat, standing on the porch and watching him stride down the gravel road toward the parking lot. She squatted to pull the dead heads off her geraniums, hoping Silas would get the hint to leave.

  He didn’t.

  Silas joined her on the porch before she’d pruned her way to the third plant. “You’re getting mighty cozy with the new guy.”

  She shrugged off the accusation in his tone. “We were having a conversation.”

  He clamped his hand like a vise around her upper arm and pulled her to her feet, spilling the wilted flowers from her fingers. “Make sure that’s all you have. If Roy gets Deanna knocked up before she gives my proposal the attention it deserves, I’m coming for you. Your uncle promised I’d inherit. That means marrying one of you.”

  She jerked her arm from his grasp. “Plead your case with Deanna.”

  She knelt to pick up the mess of flowers on her front walk.

  But Silas couldn’t stand hearing sass from a woman. “You don’t want to cross me, Mel. Henry said you needed to be getting married and making babies. I’m your best choice here.”

  There was a whole wide world out there, bigger than the virtual prison of these 500 acres. If this bully was the best she could do... If she had to lie with him and bear his child... Melanie pushed to her feet. “You don’t love me. I don’t even think you like me. How could you ever possibly be happy with me?”

  “Because your last name is Fiske.”

  “That’s insulting. I’m a person. I have feelings. If you stop to think, so do you.”

  He turned away to spit into the grass. “Deanna thinks I’m too old for her.”

  So the big brute was capable of an emotion beyond greed and anger. “If your sales pitch to her wasn’t any better than the one you just gave me, it’s no wonder she won’t give you the time of day. Neither will I.”

  “It’s not like men are knockin’ down your door to get to you. Henry is going to make you marry someone to keep you here, and it might as well be me.”

  “Never. Going. To happen.” She was on a roll today—pushing limits, asking questions, getting herself into trouble. Why not poke the bear one more time? She tipped her gaze to Silas’s black eye. “Have you heard anything more about Richard? Any idea where he is? SueAnn doesn’t need to be stressing about her brother’s disappearance right now.”

  Silas might have a temper, but he was no fool. He wouldn’t be riled into admitting anything. “I’m more interested in what you were doing out at your daddy’s boat.”

  “I was swimming.”

  “You’re lying.”

  But Melanie wouldn’t be taunted into revealing anything, either. “Richard was sober when he left. He was cleaning up his act for SueAnn’s sake. He wanted to be a good role model for his niece or nephew.” She took a step toward Silas and dared him to tell her the truth. “Do you know where Henry sent him to work? Do you know if Sheriff Cobb arrested him? Was there an accident?”

  “Why are you asking me?”

  “You keep telling everyone you’re in charge of things around here.”

  “I don’t keep track of hard cases like Richard once they leave the farm.”

  She backed him right off the edge of her porch. “I think you’re lying. I think you do know something.”

  He raised his hand and Melanie flinched. “You watch your tone with me, girl.”

  The door opened behind her and Daryl came out. Silas lowered his hand as her friend moved up beside her. “SueAnn’s taking a nap. We can talk now.”

  Silas pointed a thick finger at her. “This conversation isn’t over.”

  Which part? Refusing to tell her what he knew about Richard? Or threatening to marry her?

  Feeling sick to her stomach from the stress of yet another confrontation, Melanie watched the two m
en head toward the main house. She walked around the side of her cottage and tossed the dead flowers in the compost bin. She winced as she lowered the lid and pushed up her sleeve to see the clear imprint of Silas’s hand on her arm.

  She hadn’t grown up in a world filled with threats like this. Or maybe she had, and she’d been too naive, too consumed with loneliness and unfulfilled wishes to notice it around her. But she was aware now. She was aware of the violence and secrets, the missing friends and the lies.

  She was aware of being watched. Right now.

  Inhaling the smell of the fetid compost as she steeled her resolve, Melanie turned to see Tom Maynard, standing at the open door of his black pickup, watching her. Even from this distance, she could read the grim look on his face.

  The man who’d no doubt witnessed that entire interchange with Silas wasn’t the distracting Tom with the crooked grin and familiar hands. He wasn’t even the friendly Tom with ties to Kansas City. That was scary-soldier Tom. The man who wore a gun and a knife and made her think she’d finally met someone besides herself willing to stand up to Henry and Silas.

  He scraped his palm over his spiky hair and gave her a curt nod before locking up his truck and strolling across the gravel road to meet up with Silas and Daryl.

  Why was Tom so fascinated with her?

  And why did it unsettle her so much that he was?

  Chapter Six

  “Thanks.” Melanie took the icy glass of lemonade from Deanna and scooted over on the porch railing at Henry and Abby’s house to make room for the younger woman while they enjoyed the view of the men loading a truck in the parking lot. Now that the fishing dock and shops were closed for the day, they could relax. “I can use a cold drink.”

  “Not a problem.” Deanna swung one long leg over the railing and then the other. Melanie buried her smile behind a long swallow of the cooling liquid. Deanna was risking splinters in her backside wearing denim cutoffs that short. But the daring change of clothing paid off. Roy Cassmeyer tripped with the crate he was carrying and stumbled into the loading dock on the back of the truck because his eyes had been glued on Deanna’s legs instead of his destination. “What is the temperature out here this evening? A hundred?”