The screen door squealed open behind Mack and Mrs. Miller poked her head out, pulling Mack’s thoughts back to the matter at hand. “I’m sorry it’s taking so long, Sheriff, but I can’t seem to find a suitcase.”
Truly? He’d been standing out here for a good twenty minutes, and she hadn’t even started packing? Mack pulled the door open wider and followed the woman inside. “I usually keep mine in the hall closet.”
“That sounds like a place Thea would hide it.”
Odd way to put it, Mack thought. Almost as if Mrs. Miller thought Thea was concealing something. He watched the older woman hurry across the foyer, pass a door Mack knew to be the closet and head back up the stairs. He frowned. Mrs. Miller had always been a little scatterbrained but since Eileen’s passing, she’d seemed different, more forgetful than usual. He’d put it down to the sorrow of losing a child but what if it was something else? What if there was something seriously wrong with her?
The idea worried Mack. Thea had already lost her sister and might never be able to track down her niece. Was she now at risk of losing her mother, too? Family had always been so important to her, even with all the problems they caused. Losing her last link to her family would break Thea’s heart. Maybe her staying with Ms. Aurora—leaving her mother in this house alone—wasn’t such a good idea, but there was no one else to help tend to a houseful of sick kids.
Well, if he couldn’t bring Thea back to the mountain, he’d have to take the mountain to Thea. Mack walked over to the bottom of the stairway. “Mrs. Miller, why don’t you come with me to Ms. Aurora’s? Thea is going to need all the help she can get and Ms. Aurora would love the extra company, I’m sure.”
The woman turned toward him, a wrinkle worrying her forehead. “I don’t know. Thea’s always done just fine on her own.”
That was true, but then Thea hadn’t had much choice with a younger sister running wild and an indifferent mother. She hadn’t just taken care of herself—she’d taken care of them, too. Which was why Mack couldn’t leave Mrs. Miller here, no matter how much she wanted to stay. “That’s a lot of work, keeping all those kids from scratching themselves silly.”
“What about the baby?”
Mack’s heart sank. He’d hoped to get back to Ms. Aurora’s without any mention of Sarah or her supposed relationship to Eileen but he didn’t see any way around it. “She’s covered in chicken pox, too.”
Mrs. Miller’s eyes went hazy, as if she was drifting in her own thoughts or memories. “So sad when babies get sick,” she murmured. “And there’s nothing...nothing you can do. Even when you try—but it’s not my fault.” She shook her head. “Not my fault that Eileen’s baby passed.”
Mack blinked. Had he heard her right or was it just the fever? Did Mrs. Miller almost slip up and say Eileen’s child had died?
* * *
Thea leaned back against the wall, wiping off the last bits of wet oatmeal from her hands, her cuffed shirtsleeves damp around the edges. The past few hours had proved hectic as Thea examined first one child, then another, making notes—writing down each child’s temperature, the extent of the blisters, the times she’d administered oatmeal baths. A second round of baths would need to start soon, and Thea had used the last of the oatmeal.
Where was Mack?
She glanced at the clock sitting on a nearby hall table. It had been over an hour since he’d left to get supplies at Mr. Galloway’s drug store. Had he ran into problems finding some of the items on her list or had he been called out on police business? Maybe at this very moment he was struggling to disarm a person with a gun. Her stomach clenched into a sick knot at the thought.
Why had he gone into such a dangerous profession when he could have gone to college and earned his law degree the way he’d planned? Being a lawyer had been his dream, at least, the one he’d shared with her the most when they studied together at the library or worked the same shift at the movie theater. What had happened? How had his dream for the future gotten sidetracked?
A noise in the front hall pulled Thea to the top of the staircase, relief cascading through her at the sight of Mack setting two large grocery bags on the front table. He’d barely put them down before he turned and walked out the door again.
Where was he going? Thea hurried down the stairs and across the hall to the door, stopping briefly to confirm what she already knew, that everything they’d need from the druggist was in the two bags. Then what, she wondered as she moved to the door, did Mack have out in the car? He walked to the passenger-side door, opened it, then leaned down.
“Momma?” Thea stepped out on the porch, the sickening knot suddenly back in the pit of her stomach as she watched Mack help her mother from the car. “What are you doing here?”
“This nice police officer thought I might like to take a ride.” She tilted her head back and stared up at Mack with a look of total adoration. “Wasn’t that kind of him?”
“Yes, Momma, that was very kind of him, but...” Thea stared past her mother to where Mack extracted two suitcases from the backseat of his car. He shook his head slightly, cutting off any further questions she might have. He was right—that particular talk would have to wait. The children needed them at the moment.
“Why don’t we get your mother settled, then we can make a plan of attack?”
We? Thea had figured Mack would drop off the supplies then head on home. The town couldn’t do without their sheriff while he helped her tend to a bunch of sick kids, no matter how much she craved his presence. Ms. Aurora, God bless her, could have handled the children if Claire and Billy pitched in, but both of them had been confined to their beds, their temperatures spiking in the time Mack had been gone. Now with her mother, it was one more person to care for.
Ms. Aurora, looking tired and worried, met the group at the door. She perked up when she spied Thea’s mother. “Mildred Miller, why, it’s been a coon’s age since I’ve seen you.”
“Aurora Adair.” Momma grasped the woman’s hands as if they were long-lost friends newly found. “It’s been forever. How have you been?”
“Why don’t we go into the kitchen and have a cup of coffee?” Ms. Aurora wrapped her skinny arm around Momma’s plump one. “It’ll give us time to catch up.”
“What a lovely idea! You wouldn’t happen to have any of those delicious macaroons you use to make? I never could get you to give me the recipe.”
“No macaroons, but I baked some peanut butter cookies this morning.” Their voices drifted off as they made their way down the hall and into the kitchen.
Thea spun around to face Mack. “What is she doing here?”
Mack set down the suitcases then straightened. “I went by your house on the way back from town. I figured you might need some things if you intended to stay here for the next few days. But when I got there, your mom seemed more confused than usual.”
“What did you mean, more confused than usual? How would you know that?” Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open slightly. “You been called out to the house before, haven’t you?”
Mack seemed almost reluctant to answer, as if telling her the truth would open up a new wound. “Your mother’s next-door neighbor called me out there about a month ago.”
“The Donohues?” They were a kind couple, Thea remembered. Always offered her a homemade biscuit every morning on her way to the school bus stop.
“Mr. Donohue came home from work and found your mother on the front porch, barefoot and in her nightgown. She was confused, Thea. Didn’t have a clue where she was or how she’d gotten there.”
“Oh.” Thea felt like sinking into the floor. Needing something to steady her, she reached for the table and found Mack’s warm arm instead. He pulled her against his broad chest, his strong arms anchoring her, keeping her safe. She buried her face in the curve of his neck. “I thought she was just rattled over losing Eileen and worried ab
out the baby. Grief will do that to a person.”
“It still could be the reason she’s acting the way she is.”
She felt the corners of her mouth lift slightly. Mack was being kind now, trying to ease her into the reality of her mother’s situation. But Thea had always been a good diagnostician—when she didn’t allow her emotions to get in the way. She knew what these lapses in memory were, what her mother’s outbursts of anger and frustration meant.
I’m losing her a little at a time.
A whimper tore through her before she had a chance to react. All she had ever wanted, if she made it back from the war, was to have her family, flawed as they may be, around her again. She’d prayed about it, asked God to give her another chance to make things up to Eileen, to make her peace with Momma. It was the one hope that had gotten her through the endless line of young men that she’d sutured up and sent back out into the battle.
Who did she have now?
“You’re not alone, sweetheart,” Mack whispered near her ear, his hand tracing comforting circles against her shoulder blades, lulling her, making her wish she could press farther into his embrace. He’d always known how to comfort her, almost as if he had the instruction manual. If she could only have a man like Mack, someone to build a life with, and a family. She’d spend the rest of her life showing him how precious he was to her, how much she loved him.
Love? The errant thought caught her off guard. It had to be an overreaction to this crazy day. First, the job interview, then Mack’s idea to have her nurse Sarah, not to mention tending a houseful of kids breaking out in various degrees of chicken pox and, of course, her mother’s issues.
What man could possibly want to involve himself in that?
Thea placed her hand on his chest and gently pushed away from him. Love? How could she love a man who threatened to take the only family she had left? Besides, Mack didn’t deserve to be chained to the mess her family had always been. And her problems with her mother’s deteriorating health were just beginning.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She wasn’t really, but he didn’t need to know that. Walking over to the hall table, she busied herself unpacking the grocery sacks. “Did you get ahold of Dr. Medcalf’s office and let him know about Sarah?”
“He wasn’t too thrilled about the delay but what’s he going to do? Operate on her while she’s infected? Maybe he hasn’t had chicken pox, either.”
What did Mack mean by either? It wasn’t possible, was it? How could a grown man Mack’s age have made it through his youth without contracting the virus? She sought his reflection in the mirror hanging over the table and almost gasped. His skin was flushed, as if he ran a low-grade fever, and she couldn’t be sure but a pink spot appeared to be forming high on his right cheek. Thea jerked around. “Mack, you’ve had the chicken pox, haven’t you?”
He shook his head, then rubbed the back of his neck as if he was nursing a headache. “Never caught it. Mom wanted me to catch it.” He gave her a faint smile. “Even sent me over to friends’ houses when they’d come down with it, hoping they’d pass it along. The doctor said I must have a natural-born immunity to it.”
Without asking, she pressed her hand against his forehead, startled by the heat radiating through her fingers. “I think whoever told you that was wrong. You’re on fire.”
“Probably nothing.” Mack swatted her hand away. “I’ve been running around for the last couple of hours trying to get everything settled, that’s all. Just got overheated.”
Well, she could add irritability to his symptoms. Grabbing his shirtsleeve, she tugged him into the dining room then pushed him into the nearest chair. “Be still while I check for more spots.”
His dark blond brows furrowed together. “What do you mean more?”
“Well,” she started, cupping his face with one hand and tilting it up toward the light. “You’re got a small bump here.” She brushed her fingertip along the outer curve of his right cheek.
Mack reached up to rub the spot but she swatted his hand away. “You’re making a mountain out of an anthill,” he complained.
“Maybe.” The word came out on a shaky breath, the gentle scratch of his day-old beard against her palm sending pinpricks of awareness up her arm. Thea chided herself. She needed to focus. The man was obviously sick. “Well, I’m not taking any chances. Chicken pox can be serious business in adults. Understood?”
He gave her a reluctant nod.
That settled, Thea scanned his face, taking in every nuance: the tiny laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, the faded scar on his forehead he’d gotten when he’d taken a tumble on the fireplace when he’d been a toddler. Her gaze shifted downward, only to find him watching her.
“You have flecks of silver in your eyes.”
Her heart did a funny pitter-pat in her chest. “I do?”
“Yeah.” His irises turned a warmer shade of blue. “Almost like tiny bursts of starlight.”
Thea felt her cheeks go warm as she ducked her head to check his exposed neck. “I don’t remember you being so poetic, Sheriff Worthington.”
“It’s been known to happen on occasion, especially around a pretty nurse.”
Oh, my. The man must have a higher fever than she’d thought to spout such sweet words to her. But even that knowledge didn’t stop her heart from beating out a wild rhythm under her rib cage. Thea dropped her hand and moved to his side, still close enough to get a good look at any spots that might have formed. “Let me check your scalp. Sometimes the lesions like to hide in the hairline.”
“If you have to.”
She took a deep breath, then sank her hands into his neatly trimmed strands of blond hair, her fingers gently moving. How many times had she dreamed of doing exactly this when they’d been in high school, dreamed of feeling the weight and texture of every strand against her palms as she tugged him close for a kiss? Her mouth went dry. Girlish dreams. Mack had only ever looked on her as a friend, and now, a nurse. A nurse with a houseful of sick patients.
Mack closed his eyes and slumped down farther in the chair. “Mmm, that feels good.”
A soft smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “Helping your headache any?”
“How did you know?”
“I’m a nurse, remember? It’s what I do.” She felt along the hairline at one ear, then the other, pausing when her fingertips skimmed over a small jagged line that puckered just under his hair. “What’s this?”
“What?”
Thea tilted his head slightly to one side and pushed the hair away to get a better look. She uncovered a pale, almost whitish zigzag line about an inch in length. “It looks like a surgical scar.”
The muscles beneath her fingertips tightened. “It is.”
“What happened?”
Mack glanced up at her, the warmth in his blue eyes suddenly chilled. “Your mother didn’t tell you?”
Thea felt the air drain from her lungs. There was a note of anger in his voice, as if it was a foregone conclusion she would know what had happened to him. How could she explain that, until a week ago, she’d spoken less than ten words to her mother over the past eight years? “You know Momma. She’s never been one to keep up with the news around town.”
“So you don’t know about the car accident I was in the night you left town?”
A hard lump formed in the pit of Thea’s stomach. “How bad was it?”
He hesitated, and for a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer. “I was rounding a corner on Cunningham Road and skidded. Ended up wrapped around a tree in the Deavers’s front yard. I’m just thankful I didn’t hit anyone else.”
“What a blessing that it wasn’t any worse than it was.” Thea breathed a sigh of relief. “You could have been killed.”
“Sometimes, it felt like I was. At least, a par
t of me, anyway.”
Fear tightened like a fist around her heart. Whatever had happened, clearly it was much worse than Mack had told her so far. Was the accident the reason why he’d never gone to college? Had his injures kept him for going overseas to fight?
Questions whirled around in her head like a children’s top. And why had it seemed so important to him that her mother inform her about the accident? She hadn’t lived in Marietta for eight years and had not kept in touch with anyone from her past.
Now was not the time for questions, not when Mack looked ready to drop any minute. Even in the short time she’d spent examining him, more spots had bloomed across his face and on his neck. She’d have to wait to get her answers.
Thea moved back, giving him room to stand. “Come on. We need to get you in bed.”
Feverish eyes stared back at her. “But I can’t have the chicken pox. My job...”
“Will still be there once you’ve recovered.” Bending her knees, she lifted his arm and placed it across her shoulders, pressing herself against him to give her leverage to pull him to his feet. He tightened his hold, bringing her even closer, an odd feeling of belonging settling over her as if right here, next to him, was where she was supposed to be. Thea gave herself a mental shake. Just overwrought emotions after a long day.
“I can stand, you know.”
Thea leaned her head back to glance up at him, her mouth suddenly dry again. How could the man be so adorably handsome with tiny bumps popping up all over his face? “I know, but humor me. Nurses like to feel like they’re doing something to make people feel better.”
“Well, then,” Mack answered with a teasing note in his voice, his cheek against the top of her head, cocooning her in his warmth. “That’s mighty fine with me.”
Thea couldn’t help the smile that formed on her lips. She’d take this minor reprieve in hostilities, might even savor it. But she wasn’t fooling herself. Questions remained between them, about the accident, concerning Sarah. And the answers, Thea feared, could breach any truce they might have reached and lead to all-out war.
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