by Lily Rede
“I grew up here, but I was in Boston for college and just stayed there. I didn’t move back until last year. What about you? Are you – ”
“There’s my car.” Evie wasn’t in the mood to answer questions about herself, about her family, or about what had driven her to Bright’s Ferry with her tail between her legs. The longer she could avoid talking about it, the better.
Colin didn’t pause, but started up the opposite fork.
“Wait, go back! What are you doing?”
“Is there anything in there that you can’t go back for when the animals aren’t getting ready to board the ark?”
“No, but my suitcase and laptop are in the trunk. An abandoned car is easy pickings.”
He pulled his eyes away from the road for a split second to glance at her in disbelief.
“This is Bright’s Ferry, not Boston. You could leave the doors wide open with a sign saying, ‘Steal Me’ and everything would still be there when you got back. Where are you from, anyway?”
“New York,” she grudgingly admitted.
“Well, that explains it.”
He opened his mouth, no doubt to ask another question, but noted her clenched fingers and the shudders she was trying hard to suppress. He turned up the heater instead.
“We need to get you out of those wet clothes and warmed up.”
In another lifetime, Evie would have leapt at the suggestive words and followed it up with a proposal that he see to the job personally. He was tall and broad and hot in a way that was impossible to ignore. However, right now she just wanted a blanket and a serious dose of painkillers. The warm air blasting from the vents slowly permeated the chill in her bones, making her feel lightheaded and unfocused.
“Hang on, we’re almost there.” His voice was soothing and it almost sounded…worried.
That was much better than the tone of his voice thus far this afternoon. So bossy. She really didn’t need that. Husky and worried was much better, but Evie couldn’t quite wrap her head around it because she was drifting, drifting…
And then the world went black.
CHAPTER TWO
“SHIT.” COLIN KEPT ONE hand on the wheel and gently shook his now-unconscious passenger’s good shoulder. “Wake up. Hey, can you hear me? Evie?”
Cursing viciously under his breath, Colin stepped on the gas, powering the truck up the last of the muddy incline to the Asher cabin, skidding to a halt in the gravel driveway. He turned to Evie, lightly tapping her cheek. She moaned softly and opened bleary, unfocused eyes.
“Dammit, I should have taken you to a doctor.”
“I’m fine,” she mumbled, and drifted off again.
Colin unbuckled Evie’s seatbelt and tugged her across the bench seat, gathering her up into his arms. She was a soft weight against his chest as he made a mad dash to the porch of the neglected wooden cabin. Dead plants adorned the stairs and a porch swing was dirty and strewn with wet leaves. Settling Evie on the swing’s seat, Colin spent a few frustrated minutes searching the planters and the doorframe, finally finding the spare key under a colorful ceramic frog on the railing.
Thank God the lawyer had missed it. At Fran Asher’s funeral last April, Colin recalled the sharply-dressed man who had made an appearance with two assistants in tow to box up Fran’s things. The attorney had expressed surprise that the whole town had turned out for the funeral of a little old lady who lived alone.
Colin felt a pang of regret as he opened the door and took a breath of stale air. Fran had loved this cabin, and he remembered chopping wood for her as a boy in exchange for lemonade and cookies. Then he’d left for school, ambitious and arrogant and ready to leave the small town behind. By the time he’d returned, Fran was sick, and the town already half in mourning for one of their own. There had been some scandal a few years back, something about Fran’s daughter, but Colin had paid little attention, too busy dealing with his own parents’ neglected house and getting used to the slower pace of small town life.
He hefted Evie into his arms again, prompting a sound of discomfort, and carried her inside the dark cabin. In the weak afternoon light, Colin maneuvered his way over to a couch covered in a white sheet and set Evie down. She barely noticed. Colin tried a light switch, surprised when the room was flooded with a soft glow. He glanced at the mysterious woman on the couch who had taken the time to ensure that the cabin’s electricity was turned on, which meant she was probably planning to stay for a while.
Who is she?
Colin knew he wouldn’t get any real answers today, and for the moment there were things to do. The cabin was chilled and unfriendly despite the homey paneled interior. Spacious and comfortable – there was a bedroom on this floor, another upstairs, a small kitchen with a cozy dining area, a wide living room, and a couple of bathrooms. All of the furniture was coated in sheets, with a thick layer of dust.
Colin reached for the cell phone in his back pocket. Not there.
“Shit.” It was probably still sitting on the night stand in his bedroom.
He tried the land line, this time not surprised to hear the familiar tone. Phone service, too. He dialed.
“Jocelyn? It’s Colin. Yes, cats and dogs. It’s a mess. Look, I need you to come out to the old Asher cabin right away.”
He explained the situation, fielded a few questions, and hung up the phone.
Evie hadn’t moved. She looked frail and small, passed out on the couch, and Colin was bemused by the hard knot of worry that was making itself known in his stomach. He busied himself checking the cupboards and found a neglected canister of tea. The kitchen tap ran brown from disuse for a minute, and then cleared. Colin let it run for a few minutes more before filling the kettle he found under the sink. He set the water to heat and turned his attention to the fireplace. A quick check around back revealed that the covered woodpile was fairly dry, and within minutes, Colin had a merry blaze burning. Then he sat down on the couch, his hip nudging Evie’s side, and took her hand. Still too cold.
“Evie? Evie, wake up.”
He watched as, with effort, she pulled herself to awareness, her gray eyes cloudy with pain. She tried to sit up, and he impulsively put a hand on her stomach to ease her back down, unaware that he was stroking her like a frightened kitten through the sweatshirt.
“Shhh…stay still. I called the doctor. She’ll be here in a minute.”
“I don’t need a doctor.”
“We can argue about that later. Right now, I want you to just lie here and get warm while I make some tea, okay?”
The room was warming up, so Colin pulled off his jacket and tucked it around her.
“Stay.”
EVIE’S HACKLES ROSE AT the stern command, but she felt like shit, so she’d give him a pass on this one. Besides, the guy had rescued her from drowning and built her a lovely fire that was filling the room and her bones with beautiful, drenching warmth.
His hands felt good.
Thinking about that wasn’t productive either, so she focused on getting warm, watching Colin putter around her grandmother’s kitchen like he owned the place. She hadn’t been here since she was a little girl, and while the bones of the cabin were the same, her grandmother’s warm presence was missing, all of her knick knacks and beloved books packed away somewhere.
Probably in the attic, thought Evie, determined to investigate when she felt better. She’d sold most of what she owned, put a few boxes in storage, and the rest of her worldly possessions were in the car, currently stuck in half a foot of mud down the hill. Her knapsack held her holster and gun and a few essentials, and that was it. All of her former life encompassed in a few portable items. Evie swallowed a lump in her throat.
Enough of that, Asher. You’re here. You’ll put down roots in this town, where Gram lived. Where everyone knew her and loved her, despite what Mom did. Despite what you’ve done.
A knock had Colin turning off the kettle and opening the door to a small woman in a pink slicker. Her brown hair was damp and c
urling and shot through with silver, and her face, though a little crinkled, had the sharpest eyes Evie had ever seen. She carried a doctor’s kit and a huge bag of takeout, which she unceremoniously shoved at Colin. The mouthwatering aroma of peanut noodles and Tom Yum soup had Evie’s stomach growling – it had been hours since lunch.
The woman shrugged off her slicker, handed it to Colin with a pointed glance, and marched over to the couch. Evie carefully pulled herself to a sitting position as the woman perched on the cushion by her hip, taking up her wrist to feel her pulse.
“Well, Evie Asher, I was wondering when you were going to show up.”
Evie’s jaw dropped.
“How do you know who I am?”
The woman snorted and let go of her wrist to place a cool, firm hand on her forehead.
“Who else would Fran leave the cabin to? Besides, I never forget a baby I brought into this world. Not that one – ” she said, jerking her head at Colin, “– and certainly not you. And you’re the spitting image of your mother.”
Evie’s heart sank. Life in Bright’s Ferry was going to be difficult if everyone immediately compared her to her mother. Her dismay must have shown on her face, because the woman chuckled.
“Don’t look so worried. What’s past is past, and you were just a little girl when all that nonsense took place. You’re back where you belong.”
She tugged Colin’s jacket away from Evie’s torso.
“I’m Dr. Griggs, but call me Jocelyn. Now, let’s see what you’ve done to yourself.”
Evie didn’t think to protest as Jocelyn helped her out of the sweatshirt. The doctor frowned at the bandages, noting spots of blood on her side seeping through the white tank top.
“Colin,” she said, “See if you can find some sheets and blankets in the boxes in the attic and make up the bed in the guest room. It’s closer.”
Colin nodded and left the room without a word, though Evie could practically feel his eyes on her, eagerly soaking up every word about her past. Obnoxious.
Jocelyn winked.
“Make the man at least buy you dinner before he gets to see your lacy bits.”
Evie had no response to that, but let Jocelyn pull her tank top off, peel off her jeans, and then carefully tug back the bandages on her shoulder and side to inspect the damage. She stared for a long moment, but only said, mildly, “Gunshots are nasty things. Shoulder looks okay, but you’ve popped a few stitches in your side. I hope you’re not overly modest. Colin!”
He came downstairs holding a pile of linens and blankets.
“Well, at least the lawyer left all the boxes clearly marked – ”
Colin stopped short at the sight of Evie’s near nudity and newly healed wounds. Though her underthings were simple and modest, Evie had a sudden desire to cover up as his gaze pierced her from across the room. Instead, she held still as Jocelyn handed her a clean piece of gauze from her bag, instructing her to press it to her side. She gritted her teeth against the sharp stab of pain, but did as she was told while Jocelyn re-dressed her shoulder.
“Is she okay?” Colin set the blankets on the kitchen counter.
“I’m going to need your help. She needs a few stitches. Set up that lamp over here. I need more light.”
She glared at Evie, who had the grace to look guilty.
“You have not been taking care of yourself.”
Like a chastened teenager, Evie’s stubbornness melted in the face of disapproving authority. Normally she would have felt compelled to stand up for herself, but she got the feeling that Jocelyn had this effect on everyone.
“Sorry,” she muttered.
Jocelyn moved to the sink to scrub her hands, while Colin repositioned a lamp as ordered.
“Are you always this much trouble, Evie Asher?” he asked softly, his lips quirking in a smile, though his eyes were grim.
Her chin came up.
“Thanks for your help. You can go.”
“And have Jocelyn tear off a piece of my hide? I don’t think so. Besides, the good mayor doesn’t abandon a citizen in need. I’d never hear the end of it.”
Evie was shocked.
“You’re the mayor? You’re too young to be a mayor.”
Colin laughed.
“That’s what I said when they offered it to me. Dad was mayor for years. After he died, nobody else wanted the job. Then I came home and, well, the Town Council can be pretty persistent…”
“Yes, they pestered him for months. Colin’s the prodigal son. Did he tell you?” Jocelyn grinned and pulled on a pair of latex gloves, “He can’t walk down the street without some ambitious young woman throwing herself at him.”
“Although most of them don’t get themselves shot to get my attention.” His voice was low and teasing, for Evie’s ears only, and she glared at him, ignoring the way his eyes danced.
The last thing you need is to get involved with the mayor. No more high-profile men, Evie Asher, do you hear me? For once, she and the inner cop were in complete agreement.
Her train of thought was interrupted by Jocelyn pulling the bloody gauze away to swab at the wound with something that stung like the devil, and Evie sucked in a pained breath.
“Fucking hell.” The words just slipped out.
Jocelyn was matter-of-fact. “I’ve got some topical anesthetic, but this is still going to hurt like a son of a bitch. I’ll work as fast as I can. Colin, sit here.”
Colin joined Evie on the couch, letting Jocelyn push and prod them until Colin was supporting her, with Evie grasping his arms while he held her steady, partially tilted on her side.
“Need something to bite down on?”
Evie was ready to reply with a stinging report, until she saw his face – he was serious, and sympathetic. She shook her head.
“Okay, then. Hold on tight.”
Jocelyn leaned forward, needle in hand.
STITCHES ARE NOT SEXY, Colin thought to himself as Evie bit her lip and held on, her nails digging into his biceps. Jocelyn’s hands were sure as she closed the wound with efficient movements. Even seeing the obscenely torn flesh firsthand, Colin couldn’t wrap his head around it. People in his world didn’t get shot. But Evie had been shot. It was hard to believe anyone would physically harm this beautiful woman, and he reminded himself that she had been NYPD. She was hardly a delicate flower. But when he ignored the jagged wounds that marred her creamy skin, the rest of her didn’t exactly scream tough-ass cop. He had to force his eyes to remain on her face, and not drop to her naturally full breasts, not too big or too small, cupped lovingly in simple white lace, or the matching panties, demure and yet disturbingly hot, shaping an ass that he really, really wanted a closer look at.
Pretty pervy,Daniels, he thought, Quit ogling the gunshot victim.
He wondered what color her nipples were, and his stupid cock twitched behind his zipper, clearly eager to find out whether it made him a total perv or not.
Evie let a whimper past her tightly clenched teeth and Colin suddenly felt like pond scum.
“Almost there,” he murmured.
Ten minutes later they were done, and Jocelyn smoothed a new sterile bandage over the stitches. Evie was shaking, damp with sweat, and clearly exhausted, and accepted the painkillers Jocelyn handed her, gulping them down with half a mug of tepid tea. Colin was equally shaken, but hurried to make up the bed in the spare room and get the electric heater going, and then returned in time to hear the last of Jocelyn’s lecture.
“…and when I say take it easy, I mean it, or you’re going to wind up with a lot worse than a mild fever and a few popped stitches. Colin, can you help Evie get to bed?”
Colin didn’t give Evie a chance to argue, but scooped her up into his arms, careful of her wounds, trying to ignore her long legs and softer than soft skin against his hands. She held herself stiffly until he set her gently on the bed and pulled sheets and a handmade blazing star quilt up over her, gently tucking her in. Her eyes clouded with confusion as he impulsively strok
ed a lock of hair back from her face, savoring the silken strand against his fingers, which he was sure his prickly new neighbor would never let him get away with if she weren’t drugged and off her game.
“Get some sleep.”
Her eyes were already drifting shut as he reached for the lamp switch and then softly shut the door behind him.
Jocelyn was packing up her equipment, shaking her head.
“Frannie would be spinning in her grave if she knew that little girl had gotten herself shot up like that. I assume you’re staying?”
“I – uh – ”
“Take the couch. Those painkillers will knock her out for a good long stretch. Make sure she eats when she gets up, but don’t let her overdo it for the next couple of days.”
“Jocelyn, I’ve got a million things to do tomorrow. I can’t – ”
The diminutive doctor paused in the middle of pulling on her slicker to poke him in the chest. Hard.
“You will stay and help this young woman, Colin Daniels. This community is going to welcome her with open arms or so help me God, you’re all going to answer to me.”
Colin was shocked by her vehemence. Jocelyn could be stern, but she almost never lost her cool.
“What happened to her?”
“The gunshots? I have no idea, and she doesn’t seem to be the type to share. What I do know is that after what happened with her mother, she deserves all the goodwill we can muster.”
She rolled her eyes impatiently at Colin’s blank look.
“You were away from Bright’s Ferry too long. Do you remember Fran’s daughter, Laura?”
“Not really.”
“You were barely a teenager when it all happened. Years ago, after Frannie’s husband passed away, Laura married Phil McCann and moved to Boston. She never liked it here, and they only brought Evie back to visit Fran once a year or so, under duress. Phil was an alcoholic and from what Fran said, Laura was miserable from day one, but too proud to admit she’d made a mistake. So she started popping pills to cope, and it just got worse from there – paranoia, rages. I remember seeing Evie when she was about five – underfed, scared of her own shadow. What a travesty.”
