by Tanya Agler
“You’re right. I should have let you know. That’s common courtesy. But I reserve the right to disagree about Mike. He’s changed.” Georgie picked up her mother’s fork and pushed around the dinner on the plate. It must be cold, having sat there for so long. “Do you want me to put this in the microwave?”
Beverly gurgled, and Georgie glanced up. “My huuh...”
Georgie strained to make out the words as her mother’s voice was so weak.
“My aaaht...”
Kitty leapt to her feet, and Beau barked at the sudden movement. “I think it’s her heart.”
“Mom?” Alarm rose up in Georgie’s chest. No matter what, her mother was her mother. Except for a few cousins, her mother was all the family she had left. She’d never known her father, and she wasn’t ready to lose her mother. “Say something.”
Beverly shook her head and clutched her chest. “My heart.” Gasping for breath, she reached for the water next to her plate and drank greedy gulps. “My chest is on fire. Can’t breathe.”
Georgie whipped out her smartphone and dialed 911.
* * *
“I’M ADMITTING YOUR mother to the hospital.” Dr. Nolan signed something on a chart and handed it to the nurse. “In the hour since the EMTs brought her in, her temperature has gone up a degree.”
Georgie reached for Beverly’s hand and squeezed. All her life she’d thought her mother was too strong willed for anything truly bad to happen to her. Yet streaks of gray lined Beverly’s chestnut hair, tight in its bun. Her sallow skin added ten years to Beverly’s age of fifty-four. The stent should have been a wake-up call, but whatever this was? This was a blaring alarm shrieking in Georgie’s ears.
“It’s that dog.” The faintness of Beverly’s voice didn’t mask her anger.
Or her fear.
The doctor shook his head and pushed his glasses to the top of the bridge of his nose. “Your condition is not symptomatic of an allergic reaction. You most likely have an infection as a result of your stent implantation.”
“So you prescribe some antibiotics, and I’ll be in my bed in a couple of hours, right?”
“No. This is quite serious.” The doctor pulled at the stethoscope around his neck. “I’m admitting you. We’ll start you on an IV of antibiotics and draw some blood for tests. You’ll have priority for imaging scans. We have to see what’s going on around the stent site. If it’s an infection, then as soon as it’s safe to operate, your cardiologist will go back in and replace the stent from twelve days ago with a new one. Then we’ll monitor you to make sure you have no signs of infection. My best estimate is three to four days in the hospital.”
The doctor left, but Georgie continued to worry.
“Stop looking at me like I’m at death’s door.” Beverly released Georgie’s hand. She nodded to the nurse. “Do I have enough time to say good-night to my daughter before you move me to a room?”
“You’ll have a little longer. I’ll arrange for the blood work and give you a moment of privacy. If you need anything, press the nurse’s button or call this number.” She picked up a dry-erase marker and wrote on the whiteboard near the door. “And I’ll come running.”
Georgie pulled up a chair next to Beverly’s bed. “What’s this about good-night? I’m staying.”
“No, you’re not.” Her mother’s jaw clenched at the same time her left eyebrow arched up.
Georgie stared at the heart monitor. Beeps and numbers. The fact the high-pitched beeps were becoming more consistent couldn’t be good. She held up her hands. “I won’t argue with you in the hospital.”
“Who argues? We have conversations that get rather heated, that’s all.” Her mother sighed and rested her head against the stark white pillow. “One of us should get some sleep tonight. Since it won’t be me, it might as well be you.”
Georgie leaned over the metal railing and grazed her mother’s cheek with a kiss, the smell of Chanel overpowering the antiseptic for a mere second. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve said to me since I’ve been home.”
Beverly gave a mere hint of a smile. “I do care, Georgie.”
“Then I’ll go. Kitty was a sweetheart to stay with Beau. I’ll give her an update before she goes home.” Georgie rose, but Beverly motioned for her to sit down again.
“What was this about you and Mike Harrison earlier?” Grit and determination laced those words. More beeps came out faster from the machine overhead.
“Concentrate on getting well and coming home. There will be plenty of time to talk about Mike later.” Though what there was to talk about, she couldn’t imagine. Sure, his shoulders filled out his uniform, and his whiskey voice penetrated deep to her heart. Not to mention the love in his eyes for his daughter and his cat shone through. Who wouldn’t be attracted to all of that?
Georgie warned herself to not get involved with Mike. It couldn’t be good for his job if she hung around him, considering he’d never told her she was cleared of all suspicion in Max’s burglary. No, she couldn’t get involved with him even if she was staying in Hollydale.
The jury was still out about that, as well. With no word from Cullinan and with a second chance with her mother, staying was becoming a distinct possibility.
“I don’t want you to get hurt again.” Tiredness crept into her mother’s voice.
“I was eighteen. I recovered. I forgave Mike and moved on.” From the set of her mother’s jaw, Georgie wasn’t so sure her mother had done the same. “Forgiveness is a good thing.”
“Promise me you won’t get involved with Mike Harrison.” She reached for Georgie’s hand. “I have no right to ask that of you, but when your father lost control of his car going into the final curve of the track, I watched and screamed, helpless to do anything. That’s why I’ve never wanted you to have anything to do with cars or engines.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I was pregnant with you, and I promised you, at that moment, you’d never feel that same helplessness, that same sense of utter loss.”
Georgie’s stomach churned, and a tear welled up in the corner of her eye. Her mother never talked about that fateful day or why she was so opposed to Georgie’s choices. Yet cars and engines were in her blood.
“I am involved with Mike.” She gulped. Her gaze flew to the monitor again, some of the numbers rising with every blip. “I promised to help restore his grandfather’s car. We have a business relationship, that’s all.”
Her voice said otherwise, and she dismissed the notion. There was too much baggage for there to be anything more. If Brett Cullinan offered her the job, she’d leave in a second. And Sheriff Donahue probably wouldn’t take kindly to Mike getting involved with a person of interest in a local crime. Even if Mike wanted more, which he’d given no signs of, she couldn’t commit anyway. It wouldn’t be fair to Rachel. Or Mike.
“Promise me you’ll keep it that way.” Her mother stared at her, a frail figure lying on the hospital bed. “Anything so you won’t get hurt the way I was.”
“No one can live their lives in a bubble.”
The nurse entered, guiding a metal pole behind her. She went over to the monitor and clicked her tongue. “Time for your IV with a saline drip and the antibiotics the doctor ordered. The pharmacy staff is on the ball tonight.” The nurse inserted a thermometer into her mother’s mouth, waited for a beep and then removed it. “Enough excitement for now. Let’s say good-night and get these antibiotics into you.”
“Georgie.” Her mother reached out her hand, most likely her version of an olive branch.
Torn, Georgie struggled. She wanted her mother to get better, but she bristled at this kind of promise. “I’d like you to trust me, trust that I know what I’m doing.”
Kevin had flung her independence at her when he left. The truth was sometimes the hardest medicine of all. Was she too independent to love someone else?
“I liv
ed with you after Mike hurt you. Then you didn’t come home after Kevin Doherty broke up with you. Why don’t you ever listen to me and follow my advice?”
The nurse cleared her throat. “Tsk, tsk. We mustn’t get anxious. Your heartbeat’s accelerating.”
An image of Mike’s brown eyes danced in front of Georgie. Then his frown came into focus when he asked her not to leave town. “I’ll keep this on a business level.”
Georgie grabbed her purse from the hook on the wall and hurried away. Her heart squeezed tight in her chest. That vow hurt as much as Mike’s letter had. Maybe even more. Running, she didn’t stop until she reached her Prius. Her breaths came at a shallow rate. In the darkness of the night, all the emotion she’d been holding back poured out.
At the first chance to move, she’d bolted away from Hollydale, escaping without a look back. Guilt crashed down with all the broken relationships. Her mother. Lucie. Mike.
Her mother had a long road ahead of her, and Georgie’s promise might make her recovery all the easier. But asking Georgie for that kind of promise, a promise no one should ask from anyone? That wasn’t right.
What was best for Mike? In all of the night’s events, she’d lost track of the most important aspects, namely him and Rachel. Tonight his radiant smile as he blew out the candles had warmed her heart like nothing else had in quite some time.
Yet she’d leave town in an instant if the call came, and she wouldn’t ask him to jeopardize his job for her.
For his sake, and Rachel’s, she’d keep the promise she just made to her mother.
That was for the best.
* * *
MIKE NAVIGATED HIS squad car into a parking spot at Max’s Auto Repair. Nothing like a dose of Georgie to brighten an otherwise drab, not to mention hectic, Friday. Another burglary, another crestfallen storekeeper, another dead end.
“I didn’t know you could whistle. Can you teach me?” Rachel blew air through her lips, wind coming out but not much else.
“Remind me later. You have your backpack, right?” He waited for her nod before he reached for the handle. “Good. You can start your homework so you won’t have to worry about it this weekend while Miss Georgie and I discuss details about the Thunderbird.”
Together they exited the cruiser, and he enveloped Rachel’s hand in his. Pretty soon she’d be too old for that. Probably already was.
“Officer Harrison, is that you?” A dour-faced man scurried toward him from the direction of the nearby bank. “I closed up for the day and thought I recognized your squad car.”
Mike kept from groaning and thanked his lucky stars the burglars had targeted only smaller businesses, like Timber River Outfitters and the Book Nook, rather than a bank. In that case, Sheriff Donahue would have had no choice but to call the FBI, likely sinking Donahue’s chances of being reelected. Not that luck played into the equation, what with seven businesses plus Max’s all getting hit.
“Mr. Garrity.” If this went anything like he supposed it would, Mike would need an extra dose of Georgie’s optimism. Hmm, interesting how she’d been back such a short time, yet she’d already become a mainstay in his mind. “What can I do for you?”
“Any leads on those burglaries? I don’t mind telling you a couple of people were rather nervous at the Rotary Club meeting this morning.” Mr. Garrity’s lips stretched out in a thin line while he stood there, legs apart. “Heard your name floated as a candidate for sheriff. If you solved this crime spree, you’d be a shoo-in.”
Mike bit back the sigh and pulled Rachel in front of him. Probably a bad father move, as it must have appeared he was using his daughter almost like a shield.
“The Hollydale Police Department is committed to bringing the thieves to justice. Once apprehended, they will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Sheriff Donahue is doing his job.” That was as close to no comment as he could muster. With any luck, that would be enough for Mr. Garrity.
“Sounds like you’re beating around the bush to me. Most people want advancement. You’d be a good sheriff. Donahue’s done nothing.” His narrowed gaze flew to the front of the repair shop. “Rumor around town is Georgie Bennett stole those comic books. Easy way to get enough money to buy Max out.”
Rachel gasped, and Mike patted her shoulders. “Hey, kiddo, why don’t you run inside and say hello to Miss Georgie while I finish this conversation with Mr. Garrity?”
Mike followed Rachel’s movement until she reached the door. When she glanced at him over her shoulder, he waved and sent his friendliest father smile, the one he’d seen his dad wear often. After she was inside, Mike took a deep breath, checking the retort he longed to deliver.
“Georgie is one of the finest people I know. She’s returned to Hollydale to take care of her mother.” He paused before divulging the information about Max, since he wanted his medical condition kept under wraps until his prognosis was clear. “Since Georgie’s been here, she’s been helping Mr. Reedy take care of Beau and is assessing my grandfather’s Thunderbird. I’d stake my reputation on Georgie’s honesty.”
Why Donahue wouldn’t listen to him and remove Georgie from the suspect list, he didn’t know.
Mr. Garrity folded his arms and shook his head. “Hope it doesn’t come down to that. You catch those thieves so the business owners of Hollydale feel secure at night again. I’d say that should take top priority at the moment over your grandfather’s car.”
He stomped away, and Mike let out a slow, deep breath. Good riddance. He was entitled to a private life. Then again, police duties required total concentration. Getting involved with Georgie was a distraction of the highest magnitude.
His heart fluttered. Getting involved with Georgie? Her spark and fire had always balanced his cooler, more detached self. He’d been a fool not to appreciate their friendship. Heck, he’d been a bigger fool to ditch her for the privilege of consoling Wendy after the star quarterback had dumped her the day before prom.
Brushing off Mr. Garrity, Mike strode toward the shop’s entrance. Defending Georgie was a no-brainer, as far as he was concerned. Even if he had screwed up in the past, he wasn’t about to let his teenage stupidity hold him back anymore.
That was the worst part about living in a small town, though. Sometimes the past did stand in the way of the present. He believed in Georgie, but it was Georgie herself, along with Donahue, that he had to convince.
First things first. He stepped inside, eager to hit the ground running. With any luck, the Thunderbird would soon be running again, as well.
CHAPTER NINE
GEORGIE TAPPED THE index card on the reception desk and then glanced at Rachel, sitting with her gaze fixed on the window. Never before had the girl been so silent around her. What was wrong? Bad day at school? Relapse of her cold? Whatever it was couldn’t be nearly as bad as the news she’d have to break to her and Mike.
When all was said and done, recommending a body shop in Asheville would be good for all concerned. And after her mother heard what she’d done, no doubt her recovery would take a giant leap forward. Choosing between a relationship with her mother and one with Mike tore her up inside. Living with her mother provided them common ground, a chance to get closer. But she and Mike? Without the Thunderbird, they had nothing binding them together. No business angle, no personal angle, nothing. Well, apart from his half-hearted belief that she could be the B&E culprit. Why else hadn’t he told her everything on the porch?
Mike entered, setting off the cowbell hanging above the door. Rachel scurried over, hugging his legs with what pretty much looked like every ounce of strength in her.
“Daddy, please tell me that’s not our bank.” Rachel broke her silence, her rather harsh tone most un-Rachel-like. “Please tell me you can make that man be nice to Miss Georgie from now on. If not, you can arrest him, right?”
Stepping away from the desk, Georgie crossed over to them.
This feeling of being the last one to the party didn’t play well on her nerves, which were already shot due to the last twenty-four hours.
Mike’s gaze met hers, and he frowned. Yep, she was late to the party.
“What’s going on?” Georgie tapped her foot against the concrete with more certainty than she felt.
“Nothing for you to be worried about.” Mike led Rachel to the seating area. “I set him straight. Don’t worry. All settled?”
“Maybe I should be the judge of that.” The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. What was Mike holding back? It couldn’t be worse than her news. The tension in her coiled like a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse.
“Rachel’s been subdued, and that’s so unlike her, unless she’s sick.”
Even though they’d met only a few times, Georgie was convinced Rachel was a happy soul. And gifted. And outgoing.
Georgie switched her gaze to Mike and drank in the sight of him. His jeans and black T-shirt contrasted nicely with his dirty-blond hair, darker than in high school. Unlike in high school, his maturity tempered his keen sense of humor like spring steel. Everything about him screamed boyfriend potential.
If she told him what was building inside her and he rejected her a second time? That had the potential of being more devastating than Kevin’s last-minute bailout from their engagement. Yeah, she did have to recommend the other body shop.
She walked back to Heidi’s desk and searched for the printout about Foreman’s Classic Body Shop.
Before she could find it, Mike cleared his throat and said, “Mr. Garrity from the bank came over and asked me some questions about the burglaries.” Mike evaded her gaze. Instead, he reached inside Rachel’s backpack, pulled out a purple folder and examined its contents as though his life depended on it.
“And?” A chill swept over her as though Mr. Garrity’s attitude could provide some insight into why some people were still canceling their repairs with her. Determined to get straight answers, Georgie placed her hand on Mike’s, pressing him on. “What else did Mr. Garrity have to say?”
