Книга Scared to Death - читать онлайн бесплатно, автор Debby Giusti. Cтраница 2
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Scared to Death
Scared to Death
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Scared to Death

He opened the back passenger door.

“Can you lift her?” the nurse asked. “I’ll stabilize her leg.”

Nolan slipped one arm around Kate’s shoulders, the other under her knees and raised her from the chair. Light, maybe too light.

She stiffened in his arms and groaned.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

The nurse climbed into the SUV and supported the braced leg as Nolan positioned Kate on the seat.

He could only imagine how she felt.

Hurt. Alone. In the arms of a stranger.

“My daughter’s at home,” he offered as reassurance, though he felt certain Lloyd had explained the situation. “There’s a guest room on the first floor.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

The nurse wrapped a second blanket around Kate’s body, then stepped out of the car, slammed the door and handed Nolan a typed form. “That leg will bother her for a few days. Ice should help. Everything’s in the discharge papers.”

“Right.”

Nolan climbed into the driver’s seat and glanced at his passenger huddled in the rear. As soon as possible, he’d send Kate Murphy back to Atlanta.

He didn’t want to be responsible for another woman with what was happening in Mercy.


Kate wrapped the hospital blanket around her shoulders and tried to settle into the backseat of the SUV. Her leg burned like fire, and her body ached as if she’d done a mega workout and pushed every muscle to the limit.

She caught Nolan glancing back at her in the rearview mirror. Dark eyes, pensive, brooding.

“Warm enough?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

She yanked the blanket higher. Her wet clothes were piled in a plastic bag on the floor along with a very soggy wallet someone had found wedged in her car’s console. The hospital gown afforded her some modesty, the blankets provided warmth and her credit cards weren’t floating downstream. At least there were some things for which to be thankful.

She flicked her gaze back to her rescuer. He appeared tall with jet-black hair, cut close, and piercing eyes that seemed to burn into her whenever he looked her way. He wore a pullover sweater and jeans, and from the looks of his dry clothes, he’d evidently changed after his dip in the creek.

Glancing down at her blanket-swathed body, she was grateful ERs didn’t provide mirrors for their patients. She’d hate to see herself. Limp brown hair, faded hospital gown, bags under her eyes, no doubt. Whatever the long-term diagnosis, she knew it wasn’t pretty.

Outside the car window, ice covered the trees and shrubs, every leaf and branch frozen in place. Another time and the landscape would have seemed magical. Like a winter wonderland. But not tonight. After all that had happened, there was nothing magical about Mercy.

The doctor had assured her she’d be comfortable staying at Nolan Price’s home. A widower with a teenage daughter. The man Tina had mentioned. Nice of him to take her in. Still, she’d give anything to be home in Atlanta.

Her eyes grew heavy. The doctor had given her something for pain. “To take the edge off,” he’d said.

She needed to ask something before she fell asleep. “What…What happened to Tina?”

Intent on driving, Nolan apparently hadn’t heard her, and she was too tired to repeat the question.

She closed her eyes, and her body floated as if she were in the creek again. This time the sun was shining down, warming her. She drifted….

His hands nudged her.

She opened her eyes.

“Easy does it,” he said, hoisting her into his arms. A sharp jab cut through her leg.

A large forbidding structure loomed ahead of them. Two-story. Brick. No light inviting them in from the cold.

Trees crowded around the house and creaked in the frigid air like old bones dancing in the night.

Kate shivered. This wasn’t the welcoming lodge she’d envisioned.

She closed her eyes. A key turned. She blinked. A young girl peered around the open door.

“Kate, this is my daughter, Heather.”

Shoulder-length blond hair, petite, big eyes that stared back at her.

“Heather, Miss Murphy’s staying in the guest room.”

Kate opened her mouth to say hello, but he rushed her past the girl too quickly.

A bed, blankets…Kate snuggled down in the warmth, vaguely aware of her host bustling about to get her settled.

Eventually, he placed a pillow under her left leg and a plastic bag filled with ice on top.

Cool, soothing.

“Call me if you need anything,” he said.

“Thanks.” She tried to smile.

A light flicked off. Darkness enveloped her. She closed her eyes….

Later, the door clicked open.

He bent over her, removed the melted ice bag and replaced it with a fresh one.

She slept again.

Her grandfather’s face floated through her dreams. “No coincidences,” he told her. “Only God-incidences.”

She wanted to laugh.

Had God brought her to Mercy to find the cross? Or to find Tina?

Then she remembered.

Tina’s dead. The words hammered through her brain.

Her eyes flew open. A girl’s voice cut through the night. Heather sounded as if she was standing directly outside Kate’s room.

“Is she taking Tina’s place?”

“I told you, she’s only staying a short time.”

“But when I tell you something you never believe me,” the girl threw back at her father.

“You know the rules, Heather. No one comes into the house when I’m not home.”

“Jimmy stayed outside.”

“Then why’d he run away?”

Maybe all families were the same. Kate and her dad had had their share of problems before he’d walked out of her life.

The irony was she was still waiting for him to return.

“I love you, honey.” At least Nolan was trying.

“You didn’t love Mom.”

“Heather, please—”

Too private for Kate’s ears. She cleared her throat, hoping they would hear her and take their discussion elsewhere.

“I told you not to leave.” The girl’s voice was edged with pain. “I knew something bad would happen.”

“Your mother’s death wasn’t my fault, Heather.”

“No? Then whose fault was it?”

THREE

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Kate opened her eyes to the gray winter light peering through the curtain, turned her head on the pillow and squinted at the travel alarm perched on the bedside table. Her temples throbbed in sync with the ticking clock.

Eight-fifteen. Later than she’d slept in the last six months.

So why’d she still feel groggy? Probably the drugs Dr. Samuels had given her yesterday at the clinic.

She closed her eyes and started to drift back to sleep. Visions flashed through her mind—the deer, the bridge, the raging water rushing in around her.

Her eyes jerked open. The water receded, replaced by the memory of Nolan’s powerful arms and warm embrace. If he hadn’t saved her—

Don’t go there. Nolan had saved her.

Thank God.

She shook her head ever so slightly. Far as she was concerned, God had nothing to do with it.

But Tina? Tears stung Kate’s eyes. She blinked them away.

Heather’s angry voice echoed in Kate’s mind.

Had she imagined the father-daughter spat? Maybe a dream?

A widower trying to raise a teenage daughter had to be tough. Yet, he’d taken Kate into his home.

As much as she appreciated his hospitality, she needed to get up, assess her situation and head back to Atlanta. Back to—

She sighed. Back to an empty condo and two weeks of worry. Until the board of review made their decision.

No telling the outcome.

Headstrong. That was what Jason had called her. Talking to the reporter had been a foolish mistake. She’d put her position and the lab in jeopardy.

Don’t cry over spilled milk. Her grandfather’s words flowed through her consciousness. Grandda with his Old World practicality. He’d be the first to tell her to focus on the problem at hand.

Cautiously, she eased her arm from under the down comforter and rubbed her forehead. If only the jackhammer pounding through her brain would stop.

Mouth as dry as cotton batting, she ran her parched tongue over chapped lips as her eyes swept the room in the half light.

Oak dresser. Ladder-back chair. A roughly hewn wooden cross nailed to the wall next to an oval mirror.

Closet and two other doors. One hung open, exposing a porcelain sink and shower stall, as inviting as a desert oasis.

She threw back the covers, rolled to her side and gasped. A jolt of white lightning sliced through her left leg.

“Argh!” Falling back on the bed, Kate fought the wave of nausea that rolled over her along with the frigid morning air.

An empty stomach and pain medication didn’t mix. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast yesterday—one low-fat granola bar washed down with coffee.

Sucking in a few shallow puffs of air, she waited until the pain subsided, then slowly rose to a sitting position and examined the immobilizer secured around her left leg with Velcro straps. A torn ACL.

Kate didn’t have time for another problem.

Determined to push through the pain, she eased herself to the edge of the bed and carefully lowered her feet to the cold hardwood floor. Putting weight on her good leg, she stood upright.

The room faded into darkness. Kate grabbed the nightstand and waited for her sudden drop in blood pressure to pass. Poised precariously like a flamingo on one foot, she winced as her hurt leg fought against her effort and blinked the room back into focus.

She wouldn’t run any marathons today. Five hops to the bathroom might be more than she could manage.

Trading the support of the nightstand for the dresser, she inched across the room. With every movement, her leg screamed in protest. Finally, she reached the bathroom, slumped against the sink and held her breath until the stabbing pain eased.

Kate glanced at the face looking back at her from the mirror.

Sunken eyes. Pale skin. Twisted matt of hair.

She flipped on the wall switch and sighed when the light failed to work. Electricity must have gone out in the night.

Reaching for the faucet, she turned on the water, lowered her head and gulped the cool liquid pooled in her outstretched hand.

A travel kit of wrapped toiletries sat on the basin. She jabbed a fingernail into the cellophane, grabbed a pocket comb and raked it through her hair, then brushed her teeth, scrubbed her face and toweled dry. What she wouldn’t give for a shower.

Her eyes once again connected with the stranger in the mirror. Not her best day by a long shot.

A white terry-cloth robe hung on a wall hook. Kate snuggled into the thick cotton, left the bathroom and hobbled to the guest-room door.

What would she find on the other side?

Sucking in a fortifying breath, she reached for the knob and pulled. Stairs climbed upward directly outside her room. She grabbed the banister for support and examined the hallway around her.

Photos hung on the wall. Nolan arm in arm with his daughter. A second picture of Heather when she was a little girl. A third of Tina and Nolan sitting side by side at a kitchen table.

Older, more mature, but Tina still flaunted the flirtatious smile and laughing eyes.

A life cut short. Why? Kate’s mind swirled. So senseless.

She let go of the stair railing, reached for the wall and misjudged the distance.

Her right knee buckled. She tumbled forward.

From out of nowhere, arms grabbed her. Pulled her upright.

Kate twisted and stared into Nolan’s dark eyes.

He raised an eyebrow. “You should have called for help.”

“I didn’t expect another crash. Seems you’ve saved me a second time.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “You prone to trouble?”

“Not usually.” She found her footing, straightened her shoulders and tried to gracefully extract herself from his hold. “I’m fine.”

“Really? Looks to me like you’re ready to keel over.”

Exactly how she felt. Her blood pressure must be ninety over fifty, the way her head was swimming.

His hands continued to steady her. “Lean against me for support.”

Embarrassed to appear so needy, Kate put weight on her injured leg, then gasped as a hot slice of pain shot through her knee.

Swallow your pride, Kate.

If Nolan wanted to help, why not let him? The world could use a few more heroes.

His arm slid around her waist. “Easy does it.”

Slowly, he guided her through the doorway and into the welcoming interior of the great room. A blazing fire crackled a greeting from a massive stone fireplace on the far wall.

Nolan lowered her into a leather chair, warm from someone’s previous body heat. A half-full cup of coffee sat on the side table. Nolan’s chair.

“Listen, I don’t want to take your—”

“Would you please sit down?” His tone was firm. Then he smiled. “You always so obstinate?”

“My grandfather called me stubborn.”

“I’d have to agree with him.”

Kate wiggled back into the deep cushions as Nolan raised her left leg to the ottoman and covered it with a chenille throw he grabbed off the couch. He tucked the covering around her bare foot before he stood and surveyed his patient.

A sense of gratitude spread over Kate. “I can’t thank you enough. You saved my life last night. Then you took me in. Now you’re waiting on me hand and foot.” She glanced down at her injured leg. “Literally. I’m not used to such treatment.”

“Chalk it up to Southern hospitality. Which reminds me, how do you take your coffee?”

“A little sweetener.”

“Sugar okay?”

“Of course.” She wove her fingers into the folds of the throw. “I really do appreciate your generosity.”

“Not a problem. Besides, you knew Tina.” He shook his head and swallowed. “Still can’t believe it. Tina was a good employee and a friend to Heather.” He sighed. “My daughter and I are both having a hard time.”

“Death’s tough on everyone.”

Nolan’s eyes softened. “Were you and Tina old friends?”

“Since grammar school. The Espinosas lived next door.”

“Guess you heard, Tina’s mom passed away last December. No other living relatives. Her brother died three years ago.”

“I knew about Eddie.” Kate lowered her gaze, hoping her eyes didn’t reflect the pain written on her heart.

“Funny, Tina never mentioned having a friend in Atlanta.”

Kate pulled in a steadying breath. “We’d been out of touch for a few years.”

“Bad timing, huh?”

She jerked her head up. “What?”

“Arriving in town the day she died. Must be tearing you apart.”

How did she feel? Regret? Sorrow? Three years and Kate couldn’t get past the rejection.

“So what brought you to Mercy?” Nolan asked.

“Tina had something that belonged to me. Did she ever mention a gold cross?”

“Not that I recall. Then again, she kept personal matters to herself. Lived in the apartment over the garage.” His eyes flicked over Kate’s injured leg. “Stairs are steep. Don’t suggest you go poking around up there.”

“Of course not.” Had Tina told Nolan about what she’d seen in the woods? She’d said she didn’t trust anyone. Did that include her boss?

“I’ll talk to Heather. Maybe she’s seen the cross. If we find it, we’ll be sure to give it back to you.” Nolan pointed toward the kitchen door. “I’ll get that coffee now.”

Kate watched him leave. On the surface, he seemed like a nice enough guy, and he’d saved her life, for which she’d be eternally grateful. But she needed to be careful. People weren’t always who they seemed.

She shook her head. Lighten up, would you?

Better to focus on the positive.

Kate gazed around the room. Framed photos of Heather sat on the mantel. Tough raising a child alone.

Even harder for a girl who needed a mother’s love. Kate should know. God had robbed her of that luxury, too.

Maybe that was why Tina’s mom had played such an important roll in Kate’s life.

Until the fire had changed their relationship forever.

Kate shook her head, blocking the memory from returning full force. Not today. She had too much to deal with as it was. No need to dredge up the past.

She glanced at the windows to her right. Thick burgundy drapes, held back with tassels, let in a glimpse of the frozen world outside.

In front of her a leather-bound Bible lay open on the coffee table as if Nolan had stopped midverse to tend to her needs.

A door creaked. Kate turned at the sound. Nolan entered the room, along with the mouthwatering smell of sausage and eggs. He set the tray on the coffee table. “I kept breakfast warm for you. Hungry?”

“A bit. Thank you.”

She accepted the plate he offered. A wedge of melon, two sausage patties, scrambled eggs, biscuits. Not her usual fare and far more appealing than a dry breakfast bar. “You must be a miracle maker. Isn’t the power out?”

“I’ve got a gas stove. Comes in handy in this type of weather. And a small generator that works the water pump. I keep a stove-top coffeemaker for these occasions, as well.” He placed a glass of orange juice and mug of coffee on the side table.

The rich aroma made her stomach churn, reminding her she hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours.

He shuffled his feet and glanced at the door he’d just walked through. “Holler if you need anything. I’ll be in the kitchen cleaning up.”

Kate reached for the silverware as he left the room and shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

“Mmm.” The man could cook.

When she finished, she placed the empty plate on the table, closed her eyes and dozed until a knock caused her eyes to fly open. She straightened in the chair and listened.

Heavy steps crossed the hardwood foyer. A door opened.

“Doc.” Nolan’s voice. “Didn’t think you’d be able to make it over this morning. How’re the roads?”

“Could be better. Thank goodness for four-wheel drive.”

“Let me hang up your coat.”

Fabric rustled. She envisioned the doctor shrugging out of his wrap.

“How’s my patient?”

“Resting. She ate breakfast earlier.”

Kate glanced at the side table. The dirty dishes had been replaced with a second glass of juice.

“Still deathly pale,” Nolan continued, his voice drawing closer.

She raked her hand through her hair, a bit self-conscious at being the topic of their discussion.

The door to the foyer opened. Lloyd Samuels burst into the room, bringing a rush of cool air with him.

“Morning, Kate. Looks like Nolan’s taking good care of you.”

She glanced from the doctor to her host and smiled. “He’s been very kind.”

“The nurse forgot to give you these last night.” He placed the wooden crutches he carried on the floor beside her chair. “Should help your mobility. Glad to see you’ve got that leg elevated.”

Reaching for the chenille throw, he asked, “Mind if I take a peek?”

“Not at all.” Kate flipped the cover off her left leg and looked up.

Nolan’s eyes locked on hers. She flushed and looked away.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” Nolan stepped toward the kitchen door. “Coffee, Lloyd?”

“Sounds good. Add a little cream, if you’ve got it.”

The doctor bent to examine Kate’s leg. Unfastening the brace, his fingers probed a tender spot. She drew in a sharp breath.

“Sorry. Swelling’s about the same. Use the crutches and keep your weight off that leg for a few more days.”

“I need to get back to Atlanta.”

“Not until the swelling goes down.” He reconnected the immobilizer, then fished a plastic bottle from his pocket and placed it on the table. “Pain medication. I called in a prescription to the pharmacy. These’ll tide you over until the roads clear. Sheriff said the electricity should be on later this evening. By tomorrow morning, things should be back to normal.”

A two-hour drive from Atlanta with a wrecked auto and injured leg, Kate doubted her life would be normal anytime soon. She’d give herself seventy-two hours max to recuperate here in Mercy. Then, she’d return to Atlanta one way or another.

Nolan returned with mugs of coffee and offered one to the doctor, who sipped the hot brew and smacked his lips. “Just what I needed.”

He downed another swig before looking thoughtfully at Nolan. “Where’s Heather?”

“Upstairs. She refuses to leave her room.”

The doctor nodded. “Kids have a hard time accepting death, especially when it’s sudden. I could prescribe something.”

“No.”

The sharpness of Nolan’s response surprised Kate, although she had to agree. Drugs wouldn’t help Heather deal with her grief.

“I know how much Tina meant to Heather.” Doc Samuels cleared his throat. “Like I told you at the clinic, Kate, folks in Mercy loved Tina. She was a committed Christian with a good heart.”

Last night, Kate’s mind had been fuzzy with pain medication. Had she told the doctor about Tina’s phone call? Surely, Lloyd Samuels wasn’t one of the people Tina had said she couldn’t trust.

The doctor looked at Nolan. “Wade said he talked to you about holding Tina’s service as soon as possible. That is, if the weather cooperates.”

Kate readjusted the throw and reached for the coffee Nolan had placed next to her chair.

“You mean Tina’s funeral?” she asked, the mug halfway to her lips. “Why the rush?”

“Another storm’s expected early next week,” the doc replied. “Plus, Mercy’s a small town. News travels. No need to wait for the obit notice in the paper. Most folks work during the week. More of them would be able to pay their respects tomorrow.”

Nolan raised his brow. “Tomorrow?”

“That’s right. Wade wants to take advantage of the lull between the storms.”

Kate slanted another glance out the window. “Isn’t the ground frozen?”

“Not a problem.” The doctor drank again.

She imagined the frigid air blowing over the grave-site. “But—”

He placed the mug on the table and smiled. “Cremation, Miss Murphy. That’s what Tina requested.”

Cremation? No way.

Blame it on a Hispanic upbringing, but cremation had never been an option for the Espinosa family. Eddie’s death had only driven home the point.

Never by fire. Never.

Kate needed to set the doctor straight. “Look, cremation’s not what Tina would have wanted.”

“According to Wade, it’s precisely what she did want,” the doctor insisted.

“You’re saying she prearranged her funeral?”

“Not exactly. But she and Wade talked once Tina realized her condition was life threatening.”

“Pardon?”

The doctor’s nostrils flared. “So Wade would know her preferences in case something unforeseen happened, Miss Murphy.”

His tone was sharp. Maybe he didn’t like his authority questioned.

“Tina was only twenty-nine.” And never one to plan for the future, Kate remembered, keeping the thought to herself.

Lloyd shrugged. “But highly allergic.”

“To what?”

“Latex, Kate. A growing problem. The incidence has increased significantly in the last twenty years or so.”

Kate knew the statistics. “Since medical personnel began wearing gloves on a regular basis. But that’s within the health-care community.”

The doctor turned to Nolan. “Didn’t you say Tina worked as a nurse’s aide out in California?”

“That’s where we met her.”

“Told me she’d had contact dermatitis for years,” Lloyd continued.

“Eczema,” Kate interjected. Tina had always been self-conscious of her rough red skin. An irritating condition but not the result of latex.

“The situation had progressed recently.” The doctor ignored Kate’s diagnosis. “Tina had been concerned. And rightfully so.”

“And that’s what killed her?”

“Seems her car had a blowout on one of the back farm roads. She tried to change the tire. Something triggered a reaction. Maybe the rubber in the tire—” He glanced at Nolan. “Latex is made from rubber.”