by Gina Wilkins
She whipped around in her seat. “Isabelle, are you all right?”
Still strapped securely in her safety seat, the little girl was uninjured, though she was obviously frightened. Going limp with relief, Adrienne swallowed hard before saying, “It’s okay, sweetheart. The car’s a little crumpled, but you and I are fine. You don’t hurt anywhere, do you?”
Drawing in a tremulous breath, Isabelle shook her head. “I’m not hurt.”
“Good.” Because the child still appeared to be in need of comfort, Adrienne reached for the door handle. “Hold on just a minute. I’ll come around to you.”
The rain had dwindled to barely more than a mist. Adrienne didn’t bother with an umbrella, figuring that after what they had just been through, a little moisture certainly wouldn’t hurt either of them. No other vehicles were immediately visible when she stepped out of the driver’s door, though she could hear a car engine approaching on the intersecting street. She hoped whoever it was would call for assistance while she comforted Isabelle. She had carelessly left her own cell phone sitting on Gideon’s kitchen table.
Opening the rear passenger door, she reached inside to unbuckle Isabelle, who had stopped sniffling, but still looked shaken. The child wrapped her arms around Adrienne’s neck and buried her face in her throat. “I was scared.”
Adrienne rocked her soothingly, an instinctive movement that somehow seemed appropriate. “So was I, sweetheart.”
Fear was rapidly changing to anger for her. That moron in the red car could have killed them! And he hadn’t even stayed around to see if anyone was hurt.
The vehicle she’d heard approaching stopped at the traffic light, then turned to slide in behind her car. She wouldn’t have to ask anyone to call the police, after all. The police had already arrived, she thought, relieved to see the marked patrol car. She was even more surprised to recognize the officer who exited the vehicle and moved toward her. He was the same man she’d almost bumped into that morning when she and Gideon left the diner.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” he asked her in the rough-edged drawl she remembered from earlier.
“Yes, we’re okay. Just shaken.”
He studied the crumpled rear of the nondescript compact. “What happened? Did you hydroplane?”
Her temper flared again. “Some jerk in a red sports car ran a red light right in front of me! If I hadn’t practically stood on the brakes, I would have slammed right into him.”
The officer’s cool gray eyes narrowed. “A red sports car?”
She nodded, uncertain whether he believed her or not. “He was driving like a maniac—speeding and swerving. He didn’t even slow down to see if we were okay.”
“You didn’t get a look at the license plate, did you?”
“No. Everything happened too quickly.”
“Doesn’t matter. I know who it was. Not much I can do about it without another witness, but you can bet I’ll let him know I heard about this.”
She doubted that would accomplish much, but she supposed she had little recourse. She couldn’t even tell him the make of the vehicle, and he couldn’t go around questioning everyone in town who drove a red sports car, even though he seemed to think he already knew who’d been driving like such a maniac. A repeat offender, apparently.
“You’re both getting wet in this mist. Why don’t we sit in the patrol car while I fill out the accident report and call for a wrecker?”
“You really think a wrecker is necessary?”
“Ma’am, you won’t be driving that car anywhere. The back fender is crumpled all around the rear tire.”
She sighed. Terrific. She hoped her insurance company and the rental car service would be able to work all this out without much trouble. Running a hand over Isabelle’s damp hair, she moved toward the cruiser. “I appreciate your assistance, Officer…?”
“Smith, ma’am. Dylan Smith.” He touched the brim of his hat in a rather charmingly old-fashioned gesture.
“I’m Adrienne Corley.”
“Yes, I know. You’re Gideon McCloud’s agent from New York. Heard all about you from Carla at the diner this morning.” He opened the back passenger door of the patrol car. “Your pretty little friend can sit in the back seat while you and I fill out the accident report in the front.”
“Would you like to sit in the police car, Isabelle?”
The child looked intrigued. “Okay.” She climbed obligingly into the car, leaning over the front seat to study the dashboard and radio.
“I suppose I’ll need my identification and insurance policy number. Would you mind keeping an eye on Isabelle while I get my purse?”
“Not at all, ma’am.”
As Adrienne made her way across the slick pavement toward the crumpled car, she wondered if Dylan Smith deliberately tried to act the stereotype of a drawling Southern cop. She still didn’t know the root of his antagonism toward Gideon, or vice versa, since Gideon hadn’t mentioned the encounter again after leaving the diner, but Officer Smith had been pleasant enough to her. Apparently he didn’t hold her association with Gideon against her.
She had just reached the front of the rental car when her foot came down on an oily pool of rain water. The slick sole of her loafer offered absolutely no traction. Her leg flew out from under her, and she felt herself falling.
All she could do was brace herself for the impact with the hard, wet pavement.
Gideon’s sneakers slapped hard against the floor tiles of the Honesty Medical Clinic. Staff and patients alike moved swiftly out of his path as he charged down the hallway to the emergency examining room. No one dared interfere with his progress.
Sitting on a padded bench in the hallway outside the closed door of the examining room, Isabelle was happily listening to her own heartbeat through a stethoscope as a brightly uniformed young brunette hovered nearby. The child smiled broadly when she spotted her brother. “Hi, Gideon.”
He knelt in front of her, his hand on her knee as he looked for injuries. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “We had a wreck, but nobody got hurt, and then Miss Corley fell down and Officer Smith brought us here, but Miss Corley’s going to be okay and Miss Nancy’s letting me listen through a stefascope.”
“It’s a stethoscope, Isabelle,” the young woman corrected clearly.
“Stethoscope,” the child parroted carefully.
Nancy beamed at Gideon. “She’s so bright. I can’t believe she’s only—”
“Where’s Adrienne?” he broke in, having reassured himself that Isabelle was unharmed.
Nancy’s smile faded a bit in response to his curt interruption. “She’s in there with the doctor. But you can’t—”
Gideon pushed open the examining room door and moved through it, leaving Nancy sputtering behind him as the door swung closed in her face.
Wearing a hospital gown with a thin robe belted over it, Adrienne sat at one end of a paper-covered examining table, her bare feet dangling over the end. Her right foot was strapped into a black brace, her bare toes notably swollen. Two women stood at one side of the room studying a chart; Gideon recognized one as the doctor and assumed the other was a nurse.
It was the uniformed police officer hovering very close to Adrienne’s side, smiling at her and being smiled at in return, who sent Gideon’s blood pressure soaring.
He knew he was glowering when Adrienne looked his way, but she didn’t seem particularly intimidated by his forbidding expression. Her smile turned rueful. “I’m afraid I’ve done something stupid.”
Gideon moved to Adrienne’s side, effectively stepping between her and Dylan Smith. “Are you all right?”
She gestured toward her injured foot. “The good news is that my ankle isn’t broken, only badly sprained. And Isabelle is fine.”
“Yes, I saw her out in the hallway. What happened?”
“Someone ran a red light and almost caused a collision, then took off without stopping. I went into a spin and hit a streetlamp pole.”
“That’s when you hurt your foot?”
Glancing down at her hands, she cleared her throat. “No. I, er, slipped and fell on the wet pavement, landing with my foot twisted beneath me.” She raised her eyes to smile gratefully at Dylan, who had stepped back but still stood nearby. “Officer Smith handled everything beautifully. He called for a wrecker, then brought me straight here without alarming Isabelle. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t come along when he did.”
Something about the way she smiled at the officer made Gideon’s hands itch to curl into fists. He glared at the other man. “Shouldn’t you be out arresting someone for causing an accident and then leaving the scene?”
“I wish I could,” Dylan replied evenly. “Unfortunately, Ms. Corley was the only witness, and she didn’t get a good look at the other vehicle.”
“All I saw was a speeding red sports car,” Adrienne confirmed. “Everything happened too fast for me to get a license plate number or even the make of the car.”
“A red sports car?” Gideon turned to Dylan again. “You’re telling me you don’t know who that was?”
“You and I both know it was probably Kirk Sawyer,” Dylan answered with obviously forced patience. “But he doesn’t drive the only red car in town. Without a license plate number or some identification, my hands are tied.”
Gideon made a sound of disgust. “Figures.”
Dylan’s eyes narrowed in corresponding anger. Adrienne spoke quickly. “Officer Smith has done all he can to help me, Gideon. I’m very grateful to him.”
Dylan faced Adrienne, deliberately turning a shoulder to Gideon. “I’m glad I was able to help, ma’am. You be sure and call me if there’s anything else I can do for you while you’re in town.”
Gideon was disgusted by the way Adrienne seemed to be taken in by the other man’s exaggerated Southern charm. “Thank you, Officer,” she said sweetly.
He nodded and donned the hat he’d been holding. “Take care of that ankle, ma’am.” Turning toward the doorway, he raked Gideon with a cool look. “McCloud,” he muttered in lieu of a more civil leave-taking.
Gideon focused on Adrienne again, effectively dismissing the departing officer. “When can you leave?”
The doctor stepped forward then, having discreetly stayed out of the way during Gideon’s terse conversation with Dylan. “She can go as soon as she’s dressed and I’ve talked to her a bit more about the care of her ankle. I’m lending her a pair of crutches she can use for a few days just to make walking more comfortable.”
Gideon glanced at Adrienne. “I’ll go wait with Isabelle while you get dressed.”
“Be sure and let her know I’m fine, even though I’ll be using crutches when I join you. I don’t want her to be worried.”
“I’ll tell her.” Nodding toward the doctor and nurse, he turned and left the room, impatient to get out of this place and back to his own house.
Isabelle was still sitting on the bench with the young clinic employee, this time playing with a tongue depressor. “I saw her tonsils,” she announced proudly to Gideon.
“Congratulations. You seem to be well on your way to becoming a doctor.” He sat on the bench beside his sister and directed a faint smile at her companion. “Thanks for keeping her entertained. I’ll take over now so you can get back to work.”
The brunette nodded. “Okay. ’Bye, Isabelle. You’ve been a very good girl.”
Isabelle flashed her numerous dimples in one of her particularly endearing smiles. “’Bye, Nancy.”
And then she turned to Gideon. “Where’s Miss Corley?”
“She’s getting ready to go home with us.”
“Is her leg okay? She fell and hurt it and Officer Smith carried her to his police car.”
The image of Adrienne being carried in Dylan’s arms almost made Gideon scowl again. He kept his expression bland only because he didn’t want to upset Isabelle. “Adrienne hurt her ankle, and she’ll be wearing a brace until it heals. She’ll walk with crutches for a few days to keep her weight off the injury until it feels better.”
Isabelle looked concerned. “Does it hurt?”
“I’m sure it’s uncomfortable, but she was smiling when I was in there with her.” Mostly at Dylan Smith, he couldn’t help remembering with another ripple of irritation.
Isabelle seemed to be reassured. “I can take care of her when we get to your house,” she offered. “I can bring things to her so she won’t have to walk on her hurt foot.”
“Adrienne will appreciate your help.”
He was startled when Isabelle suddenly climbed onto his lap and rested her head on his chest. “I’m kind of tired,” she murmured with a little sigh.
Awkwardly patting her back, he wasn’t surprised that she was worn-out. She’d had a long, eventful day.
He was beginning to feel rather drained himself.
Chapter Four
Her swollen and bruised foot propped on a pillow on a footstool in front of her chair, Adrienne sat in Gideon’s den that evening with a cup of hot tea in her hands and a white stuffed owl in her lap. Gideon and Isabelle had been taking care of her, in their unique ways, which explained the tea and the toy.
She still felt like a fool.
Poor Gideon, she thought, listening to the clatter of dishes in the kitchen as he cleared away the remains of the broiled steak and baked potato dinner he had prepared for them. All he seemed to want was to be left alone to write in peace, and now he found himself responsible for his baby sister and his injured agent.
Gideon wandered into the den a few moments later. “You need anything?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you. I was just thinking that I should try calling the airline, see if I can get a flight out early tomorrow. I’ll have to arrange transportation to the airport, of course, since I’m not sure I could make an hour-long drive with my right foot in a brace, but I—”
“That’s ridiculous. You’re in no shape to travel tomorrow. The doctor ordered you to take it easy for a few days and that’s what you’ll do. Stay here and recuperate, and you can go back to New York later in the week. Friday, probably.”
Though she appreciated his generous, if bluntly offered, invitation, especially knowing how badly he wanted his privacy back, she shook her head. “Thank you, but I won’t impose on you any longer. I’m not injured that badly, and I can get assistance boarding the plane.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. “I’m not going to argue with you about this. You’re going to be sore tomorrow, both from the impact in the car and from the fall. There’s no reason for you to leave in that condition—and don’t say again that you don’t want to impose on me. I would tell you if I found your presence bothersome.”
“I should never have shown up on your doorstep without giving you prior notice.”
Her guiltfest only seemed to annoy him further. “You didn’t have a hell of a lot of choice, considering I wouldn’t take your calls or read my mail.”
Now he was making excuses for her. She sighed and shook her head. “I’m really sorry about all of this.”
“If anyone should be apologizing, I should, for making your job so difficult. I haven’t even made time to discuss the business that brought you here. But it would be a waste of time for us to sit here apologizing to each other.”
She smiled ruefully. “I suppose you’re right. And I know how you feel about wasting time.”
The smile he gave her in return was a bit lopsided, but still charming in its own way. For an instant she was taken back to the moment when she had stepped out of the examining room and found Gideon waiting for her with Isabelle curled in his lap. He had looked more than a bit uncomfortable, but his hand had been gentle as he’d patted Isabelle’s back. She had been startled to find herself wondering how it might feel to have his hands on her.
“You seem to be getting to know me pretty well,” he said.
It took her a beat to realize that he was responding to h
er last statement and not to her errant thoughts. She cleared her throat. “In some ways, perhaps.”
He sat on the couch, draping his arm over the back. “How’s your tea?”
“It’s very good.” She took a sip of the cooling, interestingly flavored beverage.
“It’s my mother’s favorite herbal blend. She keeps me stocked because she thinks I drink too much caffeine.”
“Do you?”
“Probably.”
“Where’s Isabelle?”
He glanced toward the doorway. “In my office. She wanted to draw pictures.”
“She really is an amazing child. I know she’s only four, but she acts so much older. Her mannerisms, her vocabulary…everything about her.”
“She’s spent almost all her life around adults. Her parents spent nearly every waking moment with her before they died. After that she lived with her maternal great-aunt in California for a few months until her aunt became ill and turned her over to my brother. I believe this preschool program is the first time she’s ever really been around other kids.”
“She’s had a lot of tragedy in her short life, hasn’t she?” Adrienne murmured quietly.
His face expressionless, Gideon nodded. “She’ll have a good home with Nathan and Caitlin. The three of them are crazy about each other. But then, Isabelle has known Nathan all her life, so she’d already bonded with him before she moved here.”
A bit confused, Adrienne frowned. “She hasn’t known you all her life?”
He looked toward the doorway again, so that all she could see of his face was the hard line of his jaw. “My father and I didn’t get along very well even before he dumped my mother and moved to California with his pregnant girlfriend, who he married just before Isabelle’s birth. I hadn’t seen him since he moved. He died in a tourist helicopter crash in Mexico last year.”
The very lack of emotion in his voice made her throat tighten. Though he wouldn’t let it surface, she suspected he still harbored a great deal of emotion about his father—anger, an equal amount of pain and probably a few regrets. Because of her complicated and frequently acrimonious relationship with her own father, she could identify with his mixed emotions. The difference was that she still had some hope of settling things between her father and herself. Gideon’s last chance was gone.
