Cash had the touch. He’d brought this dead old house back to life, and she’d bet he could do that for other houses. Was he was aware of his talent? Aware of how physically far his mind and body come in only ten weeks?
Back in April when she’d run into him at Leo’s, his skin had been a wrinkled-filled and an unattractive pasty gray. His eyes, what little she’d seen, had been bloodshot and unfocused. And while he’d still retained his muscular undertone, he’d appeared weak and unsteady, the effect magnified by his limp.
Now, at the end of June, he didn’t resemble that man at all. He was the man she’d known on the rodeo circuit. Strong. Decisive. Confident. His sense of humor was back. His color was back. If she didn’t know about his injuries, she’d have never noticed the very slight limp.
He’d rebuilt much of himself just as he had the house, and she was so proud and thrilled for him.
She let herself into a quiet house. The aroma of baking potatoes filled the downstairs.
“Cash. You here?”
“Upstairs. Come on up.”
A smile crawled across her lips when she hit the landing. Curled up together on the leather sofa, Ruby and Buster both wagged tails at her arrival, but neither deemed her arrival important enough to move.
Dressing in a pair of shorts, a PBR T-shirt and barefoot, Cash was stretched out in his recliner while Judge Judy played on the television. His blond hair, at least a month past needing a cut, fell over his brow. Her heart skipped at the sight of the man she adored smiling at her.
“Judge Judy?”
Cash shrugged with a guilty grin. “Not my fault. It’s what Ruby and Buster want to watch every afternoon.”
She glanced at the animals. Ruby was washing her hind leg while Buster’s eyes were shut.
“Hmm. Yes, I can see their fascination.”
He laughed and patted the arm of the chair. As soon as her butt hit the arm, he pulled her into his lap. There was a tug in her gut as her bottom settle into his lap.
“Have a nice day?”
“I did. I’ve really gotten attached to some of our regular patients.”
“So you’re still liking the work?”
She nodded. “Loving it.”
“Still heading off to the big D for school in the fall?”
“Yep. Why all the questions?”
“I got you a present.”
She wasn’t sure if that was a change of subject or if the questions were somehow related.
“A present?” She slid her hips side-to-side over his growing erection. “I think I can feel your present.”
He chuckled. “That present’s for later. Reach beside the chair. You should feel a box.”
When she leaned over, her rear rose in the air. Cash ran his hand over her ass cheeks before lightly biting the left one.
“Hey!” she said indignantly, but her voice held no threat.
“Sorry. I couldn’t resist. Go on. Lean over. I promise not to bite.”
She gave him a skeptical look but leaned over. He didn’t bite, but his hands roamed. Her finger touched the corner of a box, which she pulled back into his lap. Wrapped in a big red satin bow, the white box was about two feet long and a foot wide.
“What’s this for?”
He lifted a shoulder as a cute blush pinked his cheeks. “No reason. Just saw it. Thought you might like it.”
After opening the lid and pulling away the freshly folded tissue paper, she touched soft, silky material. She whipped it from the box. A long, royal-blue silk robe hung from her fingers. On the back was an orange and yellow sunset.
“Oh, Cash. It’s beautiful. The sunset looks like the one we get every evening. Thank you. I’ll think of you every time I wear it.” She kissed him and then hopped from his lap. “I want to try this on right now.”
Cash lowered his feet to the floor. “I’ve got to check dinner anyway.”
“What are we having?”
“Baked potatoes, rolls, salad and steaks. I haven’t fired up the grill yet, so I’d better get to it. Needs to heat a while before I put the steaks on.”
Paige started down the stairs but turned back. “When did you learn to cook? When you first got here, it was always me doing the cooking.”
His smile was mixed parts amusement and guilt. “I always could cook a little. Besides, tonight is steak and potatoes. Any guy who can’t throw potatoes in the oven, open a bag of salad and toss a couple of steaks on the grill should be required to turn in his manhood badge.”
“Still, I appreciate the dinner. See you in a few.”
She stripped off her clothes and jumped in the tub for a quick shower. Afterwards, she pulled on the satiny robe and tightened the silk belt about her waist, deciding to forgo any panties. The robe was cool against her heated flesh. The hem brushed the floor. When she walked, the material sinuously stroked her skin as her toes peeked out with each step. She loved it not only because Cash had given it to her but also because it fit her style and clothing tastes perfectly. Cash either knew her better than she’d realized or he’d been quite lucky in his selection.
The banging of the oven door alerted her to Cash’s location. She headed to the kitchen and when there, struck a pose against the door frame, jutting one leg out the slit in the robe’s front.
“What do you think?” she said.
Cash glanced over his shoulder and then back to the potatoes he’d just pulled from the oven before looking again back to her.
“What I think is that dinner is going to be late.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her along up the stairs to his bedroom, with her laughing the entire way.
Dinner was late that night. Those were either the best steaks Paige had ever eaten, or the two hours in Cash’s bedroom had worked up an appetite. She didn’t know the answer to that question, but one question nagging her the rest of the night was when would her appetite for Cash diminish?
Through June, her appetite for Cash’s touch never diminished. She was ravenous for him when she got home every evening. Fortunately, he seemed as starved as she, racing her to his bedroom, or hers, or to the shower, or the couch. Anywhere they could sate their hunger for each other.
In July, the small town of Whispering Springs began filling with tourists early in the week for the annual Fourth of July Arts and Crafts Festival. With the Fourth of July falling on a Friday, most visitors planned to stay through the weekend.
But like many Texas summers, July brought high temperatures and thick humidity. For Whispering Springs Medical Clinic, this meant an increase in emergency-room visits and new patients. By the Wednesday preceding the big county-sponsored fireworks display, the clinic had added fifteen new patients. This made the workdays fast-paced but long. When the clinic finally shut its doors for the day, Paige was ready to head home for a hot bath, a hot meal and an even hotter man.
On the Thursday before her three-day weekend, Paige’s commute to work took ten minutes longer than usual due to the volume of traffic. She saw Marc Singer directing traffic near the clinic and got a smile and wave in return to her horn toot. Once she got parked, she raced into the office ready to apologize for her tardiness, but with this being Dr. Caroline Graham’s first day back to work, the staff hadn’t begun to work. They were all in the break room flipping through Caroline’s album of pictures of her twins. However, once patients began filling the exam rooms, the day took off in its usual busy pace.
As the last patient was being seen, Paige remembered that in her haste that morning, she’d forgotten to crack open the windows on her car. With the day’s heat, the interior would be unbearable.
“Lydia?”
“Hmm?” Lydia Henson continued entering her patient note in the computer.
“I need to run out and crack the windows on my car to let out some of the heat.”
“Sure. No proble
m.”
Paige slipped out the back door and headed for her car. There was no reason to physically get in the car since all she had to do was lean in, shove in her key to give power to the windows and then punch the buttons on the driver’s door. She was leaning in when she felt something press into her back.
“Don’t scream,” a quaking male voice said. “Stand up slowly. Don’t make a scene and nobody will get hurt.”
Paige slowly backed out of her car, fully aware of the gun shoved against her spine. “What do you want?” Her heart was racing. The sudden adrenaline surge in her bloodstream had the muscles all over her body jerking.
“Just do what I say and I won’t hurt you.”
Paige dug through her memory for some of her psychology training, but her brain was locked in fight-or-flight mode. And since she couldn’t fight and flight wasn’t an option, her mind couldn’t give her any suggested action other than to do what the man said.
“What do you want?” she repeated in as calm a tone as possible. She risked a glance at the man. Dilated eyes. Dirty clothes. Acne-marked face. And she knew. Drugs. He wasn’t going to rape her. He wanted drugs.
“I want you to let me in that back door you just came out of. That’s it. Simple. Do that and nobody dies.”
Paige shook her head. “I can’t.”
The man’s face flamed red with rage. He slapped her with his left hand. Her head jerked backwards from the force of the blow. The right side of her head came alive in pain.
“Look, bitch. I told you what to do. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. I just need a little something to get me through the weekend. That’s all. Now open the door.”
He wasn’t giving her any option. The lot they were standing in was private and gated. No one could see them. No one would be coming to her rescue.
She prayed all the patients were gone. Most of the staff had taken off about thirty minutes ago, so only the two physicians and the receptionist should be in there. She must have thought too long because the next time he hit her, he used the butt of the gun. Pain shot through her head. When she touched her face, her fingers came back bloody. Her eyes watered from the pain.
“Are you stupid?” he shouted. “Open the fucking door.”
He shoved her toward the locked rear door and its keypad. She punched in a code and pulled the handle. The door didn’t open.
“Sorry. I’m nervous. I put in the wrong code. Let me do it again.”
“Dumb bitch. Hurry up.”
She punched in her five-digit code and the lock clicked. She pulled the door open. The man shoved her inside before she could take the first step on her own. She stumbled, hitting her shoulder on the wall.
“Now where’s the drugs?”
“I don’t have a key,” Paige said. “They’re locked up.”
“Fuck!” he shouted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Get me the fucking key and get it right now.”
“What’s going on back here?”
Paige’s heart sank when she heard Lydia Henson’s voice.
“Nothing,” Paige called back. “I just stumbled.”
“Are you all right?” Lydia asked as she turned the corner. When she saw the man, the gun and probably the blood dripping down Paige’s cheek, she froze.
“Are you a doctor?” the man said, waving his gun toward Lydia.
“I am. Are you hurt? Do you need a doctor?”
“Fuck, no, I don’t need a doctor. I need me some oxy or Demerol. I know you’ve got some here.”
“We don’t keep strong narcotics in the office.”
“Bullshit.” His eyes were franticly sweeping around the hall. “Who else is here? Get them back here too.” He waved the gun around and Paige feared he might accidentally shoot her or Lydia.
“Just us,” Lydia said. “Everybody else is gone.”
Lydia’s voice was as soft and smooth as silk. Paige was impressed as hell that Lydia could sound so unaffected.
“Just Paige and me,” she said again, a little louder. “Nobody else here.”
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told this stupid bitch here,” he said, his waving gun almost hitting Paige in the face again. “Just give me the drugs and nobody gets hurt.”
“Looks like my nurse has already gotten hurt,” Lydia said.
“Naw. That’s nothing. A little blood. But,” he shoved the gun against Lydia’s forehead, “if you don’t get those keys out and give me those drugs, the next blood you’re gonna see is your own.”
Lydia nodded and pulled a set of keys from the pocket of her white coat. “Follow me.”
She turned and began walking down the hall.
“Go on. You too,” the man said as he shoved Paige in front of him.
Having a gun pointed at her back was surreal. Her mind knew it was happening, but a tiny sliver kept repeating, “Let me wake up.”
But it was no dream. The reality that she could die, would never see Cash again, never again feel his hot, naked flesh pressed against her made her nauseous with fear. She wanted to live. She wasn’t done living. Hell, she’d barely started living.
She followed Lydia into the examination rooms area and to a locked door. Once the door was open, Lydia stepped back with a wave of her hand, indicating the man should enter.
“No way, bitch. I’m not stupid.”
Paige questioned that last statement in her mind.
“If I go in there, you’ll try to shut the door.” He put his hand on Lydia’s back and pushed her inside. “Besides, you know where everything is. Get it. Put it in a sack or something.”
Paige made a move to her left, hoping the drug addict would be so enamored by all the shelves of drugs, he might forget about her. Unfortunately, no. He roughly grabbed her arm and jerked her over to him. He put his arm around her neck, pressing her back to his front.
“Here’s the deal, Doc.” The man firmly pressed the cold end of the gun’s barrel into Paige’s temple. “You stop fucking around and get those drugs together and I won’t have to kill your little nurse here. You keep delaying and she dies, then you die. Got it?”
For the first time, Paige saw the color leech from Lydia’s face. “I understand. Don’t do anything rash.” She turned away and pulled a white plastic Walmart bag from the trash. “No reason for anyone to get hurt.” She snapped the bag open and began raking bottles into the sack.
“Just the good stuff. I don’t want no blood-pressure medicine or anything like that.”
Lydia nodded and continued down the shelf. Once the bag was full, she turned and held it out to the druggie. “Here you go. Now let Paige go and get the hell out of my clinic.”
Paige’s heart was racing. His arm tightened against her throat. The man smelled like he hadn’t showered in weeks. The stench of his body odor had been almost tolerable in an open parking lot, but inside this confined area the sour foulness was making her gag. Between his rancid smell and his forearm pressing on her trachea, she could barely draw a breath.
“Not so fast, Doc. Open that bag and show me what’s in it.”
Lydia shook the bag at him. “Take it and get out.”
He tightened his arm on Paige’s throat. Drawing a breath was like trying to suck a marble through a pinched straw. The lack of adequate oxygen had her seeing black spots. If he kept up that degree of restriction on her breathing, it was only a matter of time before she passed out.
Lydia opened the bag to display the contents. The man nodded.
“Good. Now follow me to the back door and I’ll be gone.”
He backed out of the room, dragging Paige with him, the gun still making its presence known against her temple.
“That’s far enough,” a male voice said. “Whispering Springs Sheriff’s Department. Drop the gun and let the lady go.”
Paige had never been so glad to hear Marc Singer’s voi
ce. The drug thief spun, dragging her along, putting her between him and the deputy’s gun. Paige decided Marc had come in through the lobby door since he was between the man and the front exit.
“I don’t think so,” the druggie said. “This little lady and me are gonna walk out that back door. That way, nobody gets hurt. But if you don’t do what I say, I might have to hurt this woman again.”
Paige didn’t think the gun could be pressed any more firmly into the side of her head than it was, but damned if the guy didn’t indent her scalp a little more.
The sound of a shotgun being racked echoed through the empty hallway.
“When I was growing up, I used to be able to shoot the tail off a squirrel from quite a distance,” Cash said. “At this distance, I figure shooting your brain out of your head will be a breeze.”
Cash! Paige’s heart leapt at the sound of his voice.
“Shit, Montgomery. I told you to stay outside,” Marc said.
“And I’ll be damned if I let you save my woman.”
His woman? Paige’s lack of adequate oxygen was playing mind games. That’s what had to be going on.
“Well, don’t splatter his brains yet,” Marc said. “He might want to change his mind about going out the back door, seeing as how you’re between him and that door.”
Paige felt the man being jostled from behind.
“Come on, asshole. I already want to kill you for touching my woman. Just twitch. A little. You’re about five seconds from being history.”
Suddenly, Paige could draw a deep breath. The man’s hands were in the air, the gun dangling off his index finger. Singer snatched the gun away. Using the butt of the shotgun, Cash bashed the guy upside his head.
“Hey. That guy hit me,” the druggie said.
“Montgomery!” Singer said.
“Sorry. It slipped.”
The corner of the deputy’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, well, don’t let it happen again.” To the addict he said, “On the floor. Face down. Do it before I let Montgomery slip again.”
Texas Twist (Texas Montgomery Mavericks) Page 17
