by Kate Morris
“Sure,” he says with understanding. “I’ll be in Herb’s office for the next few hours studying if you need me. He wants me to look over the patient files from town. Also, he wants to go over the treatment of the Scarlet Fever cases that seem to be spreading.”
“Happy studying,” she quips, getting a smile.
“Have you seen Samantha? She should be in on this, too,” he says, looking around.
“No, I think she might’ve gone for a ride with Huntley,” she tells him. “I thought I heard them talking about doing that after dinner.”
His brow wrinkles as if he is concerned for Sam’s well-being.
“Don’t worry, Simon. They’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”
He nods and says, “Don’t go too far.”
She smiles and kisses his cheek in compliance. Then she pulls on her sandals, a new addition to her footwear thanks to Cory. She also grabs a pale blue cardigan from the laundry room to ward off the evening air’s chill. Then she heads straight for the wooded area behind the horse barn where she promised to meet Cory. He isn’t there when she arrives, so Paige sits on a stump and waits for him. It gives her some time to think about what she wants to say.
Within a few minutes, he strides toward her through the darkening forest. “Sorry I’m late. Got detained by helping Doc.”
“With what?” she asks but doesn’t rise to greet him.
“We finished the brace appliance we made for Derek. We showed it to him. At first, he seemed a little pissed.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, well, it’s to be expected,” Cory says, plucking a leaf from a low-hanging branch. “Guy like Derek, he doesn’t want people fussing over him. But we talked him into trying it out. I think it’s gonna work great. He was able to walk without his cane. Well, somewhat. It’s gonna take some getting used to.”
“That’s so amazing, Cory,” she says with genuine inflection. She’s truly happy that Derek is going to be slightly more mobile now. He’s been so depressed and angry lately. She was so worried about him.
He walks over and sits next to her. “Yeah, it is,” he agrees and takes her hand in his.
Paige pulls away and says softly, “Don’t do that.”
He nods reluctantly and pulls something from behind his back, “I heard you were looking for this.”
“Oh, great! Thanks,” she says, taking her architectural drawing pad.
“I found it,” he tells her with a smile.
“Wait, the one I was working on is gone. What the heck?” she asks, looking through it for the missing sketch she’s been working on for the last month. It was of a small white cottage by the sea, a fantasy dream cottage. She’d always seen herself having a family someday and spending her summers on the beach in a tiny town where all the homes were small and quaint and cozy like the one she’d drawn.
“Hm,” Cory says with a frown. “Must’ve got torn off by someone. I’ll look for it later for you. Could be one of the little kids found it and took it to draw on.”
“Probably,” she says, thinking about the many little ones running around on the McClane farm. “It doesn’t really matter. It wasn’t that important.” And it isn’t. That silly little cottage on the beach fantasy is long since dead and gone, no hope for resuscitation.
Cory tucks her loose hair behind her ear.
“What’s going on with you? What are you hiding?”
She doesn’t know how he can tell that something is wrong, but apparently, Cory is more sensitive than she thought.
“I didn’t want to tell you, but I feel like crap about not telling you.”
His mouth turns down, and lines form at the corners of his deep brown eyes.
“Tell me what?”
“The other night in the shed?” she asks, getting a nod. “I had a miscarriage. I wasn’t having girl problems. I made Reagan promise not to tell anyone.”
“What?” he asks with a sharp hiss of shock. “But I thought…”
“Yeah, me, too,” she agrees with wide eyes. “Reagan said the test must’ve been a false negative or something like that. I was pregnant this whole time.”
“Jesus,” Cory swears under his breath and looks at his feet. “Damn it, Paige. This shouldn’t have happened.”
“No kidding! You think I’m happy about it?”
“No, I mean we should’ve been married. That’s not right.”
She scoffs and offers a single laugh that comes off as sardonic and without humor. “We shouldn’t have been screwing around in the first place. That was the problem.”
“You’re right,” he agrees, nodding. “I should’ve forced you to marry me…”
“What? Cory, get real. This isn’t two hundred years ago. I don’t want to get married, and you know that.”
“Doesn’t matter what you want. What we did had consequences. It was wrong. People were hurt. The family, your brother, us. And now you’ve miscarried our baby.”
“I know! I’m so stupid.”
She looks away, and he says, “No, you’re not. We just made a mistake, a lot of them, but none of it was your fault. If anything, it was mine. I’m the man of the situation. I shouldn’t have had sex with you outside of marriage. It wasn’t right, and I knew it but did it anyway because I wanted you so damn much. But this isn’t your fault, and I don’t want you blaming yourself. Women have miscarriages all the time. You’ve been under a lot of stress lately, too. That couldn’t have been good for a pregnancy. Listen, I don’t want you blaming yourself, you hear?”
He wraps an arm around her that Paige tries to shirk. However, Cory persists and pulls her close. She can feel the waterworks turning on again. She sniffs hard to prevent herself from crying and leans back. Cory gets down on one knee in front of her and pulls her forcefully into a full embrace. Then she’s done for. The tears start again. He rubs her back soothingly and strokes her hair.
“Damn, I’m sorry I couldn’t even be there for you. You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone.”
“I had Reagan,” she says as she regains her composure and he pulls back again to look at her.
“That’s not the same. You were pregnant because of what I did. That means I should’ve been there with you. It was my responsibility. You’re my responsibility.”
She vigorously shakes her head, “This doesn’t change anything, Cory.”
Paige scoots agilely around him and stands. She walks toward the edge of the woods where she can see the barns of the McClane farm. He comes up behind her and rests his hands on her shoulders, which makes her feel small and fragile in Cory’s large grasp.
“Is everything ok now? You aren’t having any complications or anything like that?”
“No, Reagan has been staying on top of the situation. I’m fine now.”
“Were you in a lot of pain?”
“Not too much. It was mostly just scary,” she admits as he massages her shoulders gently.
“I wish I could’ve been there for you, sweetheart.”
She dislikes his use of endearments. It’s better when he calls her a beanpole or Red. Things like sweetheart are just too intimate.
“I’m fine,” she says, stealing herself and stepping out of his grasp. “Like I said. This doesn’t change things. I still don’t want to get married, and I am definitely never having kids.”
“Have you told Simon?” he asks, ignoring her comments.
“No!” she whispers, frantic that someone could hear them. “And don’t tell him, either. I don’t ever want him to find out. Or anyone else. Reagan’s the only one who knows, and I swore her to secrecy. I can only imagine what the family thinks of me already. I don’t need this to add to it.”
“They love you,” he counters softly. “And I won’t tell Simon. It would only further solidify his hatred of me right now. Plus, I don’t want him to have to dwell on what we’ve done. He’s been through a lot lately.”
She’d like to know more about what he means, but she can hear the kids near the barn
s coming their way.
“We’d better leave and split up,” she says, getting a deep scowl in return.
Cory pulls her gently to him, kisses the top of her head, then her closed mouth, and releases her.
“You go back first,” he says, to which she nods. “And come and get me if you have any more problems, alright? If you have complications or anything, you come and get me no matter what.”
“Fine,” she agrees, knowing full-well that it’s a lie.
Cory strokes her cheek, runs his thumb over her eyebrow, then kisses her there before releasing her again.
“Be careful,” he says as she turns to go. “And get some rest.”
She nods and walks quickly toward the barns, getting away just in time because Ari and Huntley are running toward her, probably in the middle of some game or another. It would be so nice to be young and carefree right now. Instead, her life has become a whirlwind of traumatic events, bleakness, and the heavy burden of lies. All she wants is some peace and quiet and a little cottage by the sea to rest her head at night and listen to the waves lapping at the shoreline.
Chapter Thirty
Sam
They returned to town again yesterday, nearly a week having gone by since their last battle. They’ve been treating patients non-stop. The men went on another ambush but were met with a lot more resistance this time, and many of their enemy escaped. They weren’t too happy about that. The highwaymen are becoming more cautious and not revealing themselves.
Another attack occurred, this time on a small community they weren’t even aware of closer to Nashville. They’d heard about the family’s clinic by word of mouth, so the survivors came to them for help. Most of their patients from the last battle had already been cleared for release by her uncle and Grandpa, which made the addition of even more patients a little easier. Now the medical house across the street is full again, and the people in town had to open the smaller, double story home next to it, as well, to accommodate so many.
The men went last night again to hunt the highwaymen but did not find any running their usual routes on the usual roads. The family had a meeting about it, and most came to the conclusion that the highwaymen may be heading in another direction to avoid the confrontations with them. It is becoming a sore subject, although Sam is secretly glad they didn’t skirmish with this enemy again. They frighten her more than any others they’ve come up against so far. Plus, the men are confiscating their weapons and vehicles when they defeat and kill them. They will want those back and the revenge that goes with it. Sam doesn’t want to see anyone in her family get killed fighting these men. She fears she is about to lose people she cares deeply about.
She and her uncle are working today with some of the ill children from the Campbell Kids group. There are nine of them and two children from town who are also sick with Scarlet Fever.
“She’s doing a lot better today,” her uncle says, jotting down a notation on the little girl’s chart.
Melora, who has been helping, says, “Yes, she is. I took her temperature last night after you guys left, and it was finally down.”
“Good,” he states. “Samantha, let’s see if we can’t get her on some solid foods for dinner today.”
“Got it,” she says, her face mask causing her to sweat underneath it. They are taking a lot of extensive precautions with these children and their sickness so that they don’t spread it further around the town.
“I want the last two on broth,” he states decidedly. “They aren’t keeping much down, but if we can at least get some broth into them, it’s better than nothing. This one and the three in the dining room can have solids. Some bread, a little meat, some soft, cooked vegetables. Whatever you can manage but no dairy or fruit.”
“Yes, sir,” she answers Uncle Scott. “I’ll get right on it.”
“Wash when you leave. Don’t forget,” he reminds her.
“Dr. Scott,” Melora is saying as Sam leaves. “When do you think they’ll be able to return to our house?”
Sam knows the answer is going to be a timeframe at least a week from now. She’d already discussed it with him before Melora arrived. She’s been great, though. Helpful, kind, so tender and caring with the children. And they love her, too. Sam also believes that she may have a crush on her uncle. Sometimes Sam sees her looking at him as if she is interested. Her uncle does not seem to return the sentiment, however. Sam knows that his girlfriend was killed in the beginning. Perhaps it is not something he is able to get over just yet. Perhaps he never will.
She walks to the community building where they are preparing late day meals for the volunteers and the sick who are staying in town. The sheriff’s wife is cooking with the help of many town volunteers. Sam orders the appropriate amount of plates for the sick children, and the volunteers begin loading them onto trays. They don’t allow her to carry anything, though, and insist on doing it for her. She does, however, ensure that the volunteers know which children should receive which meals. Then she charts their food intake and leaves the files for her uncle, who is still working in another room with Melora. He’s been staying in this housekeeping constant watch over the children. Sam is pretty sure Melora has never left once, either. She cares so much for all of the orphans that she and Hardy have taken under their wings. They both have huge hearts.
Sam leaves the medical house and heads to the clinic where the family who came to town with her is supposed to be meeting for their own dinner. Simon and Reagan are there along with John and a few of Robert’s men, who are still living at the farm in Derek’s house.
“Need any help?” she asks Reagan when she arrives. Her idol is cleaning her hands behind the building. Sam joins in to do the same.
“No, we’re all done. I’m going to the town hall with John now, but everyone’s been seen, and the patients have been cleared out. All you and Simon need to do is lock up.”
“But I thought we were having dinner together,” Sam complains.
“Sorry, kiddo,” she says. “John and I will eat later. We’ve got some stuff to go over. Dave’s in town with some of his men, and we’re making plans.”
“I didn’t know they were coming to town tonight,” she says. “Who all came?”
“Your new boyfriend,” Reagan teases.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sam whispers uncomfortably. “I don’t know why everyone’s always saying that.”
“Seems that more than one person has seen you kissing him. If you don’t want people to come to their own conclusions, then maybe you ought to stop kissing him.” Reagan smiles and bumps her shoulder against Sam’s. Then she continues on to say, “Unless you like kissing him, of course.”
Sam doesn’t know what to say to this. She’s never sure of herself around Reagan, who always speaks so bluntly.
“Do you?” she prompts.
Sam offers an impish shrug in answer. It’s the best she can give because she doesn’t know how to feel about Henry. Other than the McClane family, Sam has never fully trusted any other men. But now she feels like that about Henry. He watches out for her when they’re on his farm. He is protective and kind and considerate of her. She hardly wants for anything when she’s living there, and he goes out of his way to ensure her comfort. And now he says that he’s in love with her. Sam really doesn’t know what to think of it all.
“Do you love him, Sam?” Reagan asks, uncharacteristic of her.
She swallows hard and frowns. “I don’t know. No, I don’t think so. Maybe. This is all so confusing.”
“Sounds like you’d better figure it out soon. You don’t want to string poor Henry along if you aren’t interested in him, if your heart still lies elsewhere.”
Sam’s eyes nervously dart to Reagan’s. She hopes that her feelings and intentions are not so easy to read because she’s been working so hard at being just the opposite.
In the next moment, Simon jogs over to them. His lab coat is still on, but he’s carrying his sniper rifle. It comes off as strange loo
king.
“We’ve got a problem,” he says preemptively.
Reagan turns to see him, “What’s going on?”
He is slightly panting. “I just came back from the tower at the main gate. A guard there needed help with an infected cut on his arm.”
“And he couldn’t come to the clinic?” Sam asks.
He shakes his head with frustration and says, “That’s not the problem. Look, we’re leaving. Someone in town, someone working the patrol on the fence, spotted a drone. He shot at it but missed. John and some of Dave’s men and I are going out. We have to find out who’s behind the drone. If we spot it, it could lead us to them.”
“Oh, dear,” Sam frets with genuine fear.
Reagan goes for a much angrier response, “Wait a damn minute. That’s only a few of you. What if you run into a big group of them like last week?”
“We’re not going to attack if we do,” he explains as he turns to go. She and Reagan follow after him. “This is strictly recon. We’ll come back for reinforcements.”
He shrugs out of his doctor’s smock and hands it to Reagan, who scowls. Sam understands how she feels. This could be disastrous. By the time they reach the men, John is already on a four-wheeler, and Simon hops onto the back of another. One of Dave’s men rides behind him. Henry is going with them and will follow in his truck with two more men. He walks over to her before joining his men. Sam can feel Simon’s eyes on them.
“Be careful while I’m gone,” Henry warns and touches her arm.
“Yep. Sure will,” she says, trying to appear casual and blasé about the situation. Behind Henry, Simon revs the engine on his four-wheeler. Henry tosses a look of contempt his way and turns to leave.
“You guys be careful, too!” she calls after him, to which he tips an invisible hat.
She glances toward Simon, noting the sneer on his handsome face. This can’t go on. She has to put an end to it. Reagan is right. Henry doesn’t deserve her aloofness, and Simon doesn’t really deserve anything at all from her. He has no interest in her romantically and is only showing her attention and kissing her lately to force her to lose any budding interest in Henry. He’s trying to manipulate her since she stood up to him. She’s not as stupid as he obviously thinks she is.
