by EMILIE ROSE
She excused his grumpiness. He was never sick, and he didn’t have the faintest clue how to be a good patient.
“I stopped by Shady Lawn on the way home.” She heard Madison’s gasp and ignored it. “I wanted to make sure the grounds were being tended and the flowers fresh. I do that the first of every month, and I haven’t had time—”
“We pay someone to do that,” Danny groused.
“Have you ever seen the mausoleum, Madison?” she asked.
“No.” Madison’s voice was little more than a whisper. Helen enjoyed the grief in her eyes. Was it mean of her to be happy to know Madison suffered, too? But Helen worked hard to keep Andrew and little Daniel’s final resting place attractive. She planted flowers, picked weeds and decorated for the holidays. Madison had done nothing.
“It turned out beautifully. Adam can drive you by your husband and son’s gravesite on the way home. If you leave now you’ll make it before dark.”
“I prefer my memories of them to be here.” Madison placed a hand over her heart.
“It’s hard to believe Daniel would have been five, and that this summer would have been his last grand adventure before he started school this fall. We could have—”
“Damn it, Helen,” Danny snapped. “Quit living in the past. Move on. You’re never going to heal if you keep tearing open the sutures.”
Helen flinched and glanced at Adam for support, but her son’s gaze was trained on Madison whose face had about as much color as a hospital bedsheet. Then Adam turned his attention to his father, not once looking Helen’s way.
Why did they all want to forget Andrew and little Daniel?
“Dad, let me get you settled in your chair. It’s time for us to go.”
“Already?”
“Yes. You’re dead on your feet, whether you want to admit it or not. We’ll be back tomorrow night.” Adam dusted a kiss on Helen’s cheek. “Thanks for dinner, Mom.”
She hated for him to leave. But if he stayed, so did Madison. “Tomorrow I’ll cook your favorites.”
“Sounds good.” Adam hustled Madison out the door, acting as if he couldn’t wait to leave. That hurt.
One good thing had come from Danny’s illness—she got to see her oldest every day. Prior to the diagnosis she’d only seen Adam a couple times a month. He worked too hard. If he’d settle down with a good woman—not that Ann character—and give her grandchildren things would change. She winced at the thought. It was too similar to what she’d said to Andrew.
“Helen, I need Madison here. Do you understand?”
Apprehension inched up her spine like a spider. “Of course, Danny. I’m doing my best.”
“Do not run her off. I want her back. Permanently. I did not bust my tail to build my business only to sell it to some clueless, snot-nosed, fresh-out-of-vet-school kid who’ll mistreat and mismanage my patients and may run it into the ground before he can pay me for it.
“I taught Madison how to run it right. I want to retire in five years so we can do all that traveling you used to yammer about, but I can’t without her here.”
Vacations she’d wanted to share with her grandchildren.
As much as she wanted Madison gone, she would have to suffer the agony of her presence in silence until Danny was better. But she’d be dam—darned if she’d have that woman back in their lives permanently.
Once Danny was on the mend, she’d work on changing his mind about Madison Monroe.
* * *
A STRANGE, HIGH-PITCHED chirp stopped Adam midpress. He lowered the barbell to the weight bench rack and went to investigate.
Seeing Madison bent over in the foyer stopped him in his tracks. His eyes involuntarily traced the long line of her legs left bare by her running shorts. Her thigh and calf muscles were nicely developed, smooth and feminine. And attractive.
He squashed that unwanted observation, but not fast enough to kill the spark of awareness prickling through his veins.
It took a moment to figure out she was stretching her hamstrings. She shifted her feet and her neon orange shoe squeaked on the floor. That was the sound he’d heard. She must have seen him, because she froze midstretch, her gaze fixed on his foot. She slowly straightened, her golden-brown eyes making the climb up his body as she did. His pulse thumped faster.
A white tank top clung to her torso, outlining her small breasts and displaying deltoids and biceps as nicely shaped as her legs. He’d been wrong. She wasn’t too thin. Though she could stand to carry a few more pounds, she was long and lean and in great shape—the way he liked his women.
Another thought to crush. “What are you doing?”
“Getting ready for a run.”
“It’s dark.”
“I came prepared.” She touched the reflective belt around her hips. “I have LED head and arm bands, too.”
“My neighborhood doesn’t have streetlights, and the curvy roads and dense trees mean someone will be right on top of you before they can see and avoid you. It’s not safe to run after dark.”
She rolled to her toes, then sank back on her heels, flexing her calves. Her anxiety was practically tangible. “I’ll be careful.”
He searched her face, noting the tension around her eyes and mouth—tension that had started at his parents’. “Why did the idea of visiting the gravesite bother you?”
Her lashes descended briefly. A shaky breath rattled her breas—chest, then she met his gaze. “I don’t like the idea of him lying there in a cold, granite box.”
“Which him? Andrew or your son?”
Her hands fisted, then relaxed, then curled again—a habit he’d noticed more than once. “Both.”
“If you didn’t want a mausoleum, then you should have planned the funeral instead of leaving it to my father.” Another duty she’d dodged.
“Having a tangible reminder of Andrew seemed important to Danny. At the time it didn’t matter to me where they were buried. They were gone. And that was all that mattered.” The sorrow in her eyes was unmistakable.
“What’s going on between you and my mother?”
The angst turned to wariness. “Nothing.”
“She’s uncomfortable around you.”
“She’s worried about your father.”
“It’s more than that.”
“She blames me for the accident.”
“You were driving.”
She bowed her head. “Yes. I was.”
There. She’d admitted it. Where was the satisfaction her confession should have given him?
“If you insist on running tonight, use the treadmill in my home gym.”
She glanced at the front door as if wanting to escape, then back at him. Caramel eyes flicked over him again with that same prickly, skin-tightening result. “I don’t want to interrupt your workout.”
“Madison, you can’t run your practice or my father’s if you get injured. The gym’s big enough for both of us.”
White teeth pinched her pink bottom lip. “If you’re sure.”
“This way.” He pivoted and led the way to the room adjacent to his bedroom. The original house plan had called for this to be a nursery, but he had a more practical use for it.
She entered, her gaze roving over his equipment, the flat-screen TV on the wall tuned to CNN and the towel draped across the incline bench. He saw the exact second she noticed his bedroom through the open door. “I should probably wait and run in the morning.”
“Will you be able to sleep if you don’t work off some of your tension?”
She shifted her weight between her feet and shook out her hands like a runner on an adrenaline high before a race—answer enough. “I don’t want to bother you.”
“I’m almost done.” Sharing the space with her wasn’t his best idea. Pressure built
low in his gut. Arousal. For Madison. His brother’s wife. No.
With obvious reluctance, she crossed to the treadmill, mounted and turned on the machine. He returned to the weight bench, wrapped his fingers around the bar and lifted.
She set her speed, her feet slapping at a quick pace that his damned heart seemed determined to match. He’d never wasted time watching a woman work out, but he couldn’t pry his gaze from her reflection, the flex of her arm and leg muscles, or the soft bounce of her breasts as she ran.
The unexpected shift of the heavy weight nearly dislocated his elbow. He checked his form in the mirror and found it dangerously wrong. His inability to concentrate was going to get him hurt, and his thoughts... They were wide off the mark.
He forced himself to do another five so he wouldn’t look like he was running, then racked the weight and rose. “See you in the morning.”
Exiting to his bedroom, he shut the door, but the muffled hum of the treadmill and the slap of her feet penetrated the wood. He twisted the lock and headed for the shower, where the water would drown out the sound. But he couldn’t escape his thoughts.
Andrew had accused Madison of being a self-centered glory hound, but the time she’d spent patiently replaying case after case with his father tonight, answering endless questions and not once boasting or bragging about her skills didn’t sound like a woman demanding adulation.
He’d believed her to be heartless, but her tension tonight and her pallor when his mother mentioned Shady Lawn couldn’t be faked. Perhaps she wasn’t as unaffected by Andrew’s death as he’d thought.
Had he misread her? Had Andrew been wrong about her?
No. If she’d cared about his family, she wouldn’t have abandoned them when they needed her the most.
But something didn’t add up. And he wasn’t going to be satisfied until he figured out what was off.
* * *
“THAT WAS OUR last one?” Madison asked Kay.
Nodding, Kay took the folder and slid it into the box of files she’d gathered for Madison to take home to Danny. “Adam called to say he’s running about thirty minutes late.”
Good. That gave her extra time to prepare for his arrival. Seeing him in his workout gear last night had been yet another wake-up call to her dormant hormones. Maybe she needed to buy a vibrator and take care of business when she got home. But the idea of waltzing into one of those stores to purchase a sex toy set her face on fire. She couldn’t imagine actually doing it. Maybe mail order.... No. Her rural route carrier might see the company’s return address on the box, and word would get around.
“Should I stay until he gets here?” Kay interrupted.
“No. Go home to your husband. It’s been a long day.” The building’s ghosts weren’t haunting her as badly this week. Yes, unexpected memories of Andrew still ambushed her at odd moments, and the fact that he was the one who should have been covering for his father was never far from Madison’s mind. But the ache was manageable for the most part, and the enjoyment of being run off her feet with patients kept her from wallowing in the past.
She walked to the kennel to check on the momma cat and the two kittens that had been left in the clinic’s safe-surrender cage over the weekend.
The drop box had been Madison’s idea when she’d still been in vet school—she’d been pleasantly surprised to discover Danny had kept it. The cages gave people who found strays, or who no longer wanted their pet or couldn’t afford to keep them a safe, anonymous place to relinquish them. Pets surrendered in a vet’s office had a better chance of surviving and/or being adopted than those dumped on the roadside or left at the animal shelter.
Madison opened the cage, lifted the pewter-colored cat and stroked her soft coat. The kittens mewed for their momma. “Susie’s going to try to find you a home tomorrow. I can’t take you with me, but I won’t let them turn you over to the pound, either. You’re a pretty girl and such a loving mommy.”
The cat nuzzled Madison’s chin and purred. She’d been malnourished and without a collar, but otherwise healthy. Thanks to the staff she’d been cleaned, deflead and thoroughly checked over. She’d make someone a good pet and in four weeks or so they could wean the kittens and find homes for them.
“Help! Help me,” a thready female voice called from the front of the building. “Dr. Drake!”
Madison raced to the foyer. A diminutive woman who looked to be in her eighties stood by the counter. Her blue eyes were red-rimmed and filled with desperation. She held a tiny apricot-colored ball of curly fur in her arms.
“May I help you?”
“I need Dr. Drake.”
“He’s not here. I’m Dr. Monroe. I’m filling in for him. Who do you have there?”
“Peaches. She won’t wake up. Please help her. She’s all I have.” Sobs shook the frail woman.
Madison moved closer, wrapping an arm around the woman’s shoulder to get a better look at Peaches. Then the smell hit her and she knew it was too late to help the dog. Organ failure created a scent like no other. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t help the teacup toy poodle’s owner during this difficult time.
“Let’s get Peaches back to an exam room.”
* * *
ADAM HATED BEING late for anything—even something as onerous as picking up Madison. But the hospital had needed him, and averting a potential nursing strike was critical. The thirty-minute delay had stretched into almost an hour. And if Madison held true to the other women he’d known, she’d throw a tantrum over being kept waiting.
He parked beside a small older-model sedan, then strode toward the clinic entrance. He didn’t recognize the car as one belonging to the staff. The waiting room was empty. Light streamed from his father’s office. He headed down the hall. The sound of low voices slowed his steps. Who could Madison be entertaining after hours?
“Peaches was my daughter’s dog,” an unfamiliar quivery female voice said. “Marie was my only child. She had Down syndrome. My husband left us when she was diagnosed. He couldn’t handle a special-needs child. When Marie died five years ago, Peaches became mine. Having Marie’s dog kept her close somehow. I just wasn’t ready to let her g-go.”
“It’s never easy to say goodbye. Do you have someone who can stay with you tonight, Mrs. Woods?”
Adam’s pulse misfired when he identified Madison’s huskier-than-normal voice.
“No. Taking care of Marie took up most of my free time, and I never bothered to try to make friends after she passed. People just don’t understand the void left by losing a child.”
“No. They don’t.”
Adam stopped short of the door and observed the scene via the mirror his father had hung so that he could see anyone coming down the hall. Madison sat on his father’s leather sofa with one arm around a white-haired lady. The other hand covered both of the woman’s. If Madison looked up she’d see his reflection, but she remained focused on her visitor.
There were dark spots all over Madison’s light blue scrub suit that hadn’t been there this morning. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, and it dawned on him that the spots were fallen tears.
“Do you like cats, Mrs. Woods?” she asked.
“I haven’t had one since I was a child. But I liked them then. Why?”
“I’m going to take care of Peaches the way I promised. But I have a huge favor to ask.”
“Anything. As good as you were to my Peaches—” Another sob cut off the words. Madison held her until she regained control.
“We have a momma cat with two kittens someone abandoned in our kennel. She’ll be safe and warm here overnight, but if you want company, I’m sure she’d rather go home with you. Just for a few days.”
“A momma with kittens? And someone put her out?”
“It happens all too often. She’s a sweetie and a real snugg
ler. She purrs as loud as a lawn mower when you scratch under her chin. The kittens are adorable. Their eyes just opened. I can give you the litter box, food and everything you’ll need. It might keep your house from feeling empty tonight.”
The old woman blotted her face with a lace-edged handkerchief. “Company might be nice.”
“Would you like to meet her before you decide?”
“I—I— Yes, I believe would.”
Madison rose, then helped the older woman to her feet. “We haven’t named her yet. Maybe you can help me think of something that suits her. She’s a really good momma.”
Adam backed into Andrew’s office to give them privacy. His thoughts twisted like a roller-coaster ride. From the gist of the conversation he guessed the woman had lost her pet, and she and Madison were sharing tears.
Madison had to have put down numerous animals in six years of practice. Compassion wasn’t something he would have expected from her. To find her crying over the death of someone else’s dog contradicted what Andrew had said about her.
Which was true? Andrew’s version or what Adam had just witnessed? Maybe Madison had mellowed over the years? But if she had, why had he and his mother needed to coerce her into helping his father? Maybe she was a damned good actress.
Without turning on the overhead lights Adam scanned his brother’s office. The setting sun outside the high windows illuminated the room with a murky glow. Nothing had changed since Andrew had worked here. Everything on the desk looked the same as it had when Andrew was alive.
He saw the picture of his brother and sister-in-law beaming at the camera. The picture brought back memories of a happier time when he and Andrew had competed over everything. Grades. Sports. Their father’s attention. Scoring with girls. Andrew had rubbed it in too many times to count that he’d found a woman worth keeping before Adam had. Adam had been happy for his brother, but a little jealous, too.
Not that he’d coveted Madison. He hadn’t. But she and his brother had forged a connection that Adam had yet to experience. He’d seen his brother try to be a better man for Madison, no longer always putting himself first.
