Dr. Colton’s High-Stakes Fiancée

by Cindy Dees

  She needed to show this to Wes Colton. Except Lester would get suspicious if she didn’t get Jolene’s signature and bring it back to the office right away. Not only would Wes not want the guy involved with this, but Lester had the power to fire her, and she really couldn’t afford to lose this job. Maybe she could find a copy machine in the hospital and make a copy of the page.

  Who was the owner of Hidden Pines Holding Company? And how was he or she involved with skimming Walsh Oil Drilling monies? It seemed awfully fishy that the two companies were doing business together like this.

  She closed the folder and headed into the hospital. It wasn’t a big place and she had no trouble finding the Walsh clan. They all but filled the main waiting room.

  Jolene Walsh greeted her warmly, if wanly. “Rachel, dear. How kind of you to stop by.”

  “How’s Mr. Warner? He’s been so kind to me.”

  “There’s no change. Finn says that’s good news. He went down fast last night, but he seems to be holding his own now. He’s still having trouble breathing, though, and they can’t make heads nor tails of his blood work.”

  Rachel expressed her sympathy and prayers for Mr. Warner’s recovery. Then she winced and said, “Actually, Mrs. Walsh. I’m here on business. Lester Atkins sent me over with some documents for you to sign. But I need to make copies of them before you do.”

  “Oh!” Mrs. Walsh looked surprised.

  Rachel added hastily, “If you’d rather wait on signing these, I’ll be glad to tell Lester that. Really, this is no time to be thinking about contracts and the like.”

  Mrs. Walsh blinked and then examined Rachel more closely. For a moment, Rachel got the impression of acute perceptiveness behind the woman’s gaze. Like she’d heard the layers of hidden warning behind Rachel’s words. “Yes. Yes, you’re right. Now’s not the time. Who knows what I might end up signing. Tell Lester I’ll take a look at the documents in a few days, when Craig’s feeling better.”

  Rachel nodded, deeply relieved, and turned to leave. And she all but ran into Finn Colton’s chest. She didn’t need to look up to know those broad shoulders, even if they were covered in a white lab coat this morning.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I was just leaving.”

  “Hey,” he murmured. “Aren’t you even going to say hello?”

  Her gaze snapped up to his. “In front of all these people?”

  “There’s no reason for us not to act civil to one another in public,” he replied evenly.

  It wasn’t the civil bit that worried her. It was the incendiary attraction that flared up between them any time they got into close proximity that had her nervous. It was flaring up, now, in fact, if the heat in her cheeks was any indication. She took a step back from him. “Uhh, hi, Finn. I was here on business, but I’m just leaving. Unless you can tell me where to find a copy machine in this hospital.”

  “Try the nurse’s station. They handle massive amounts of paperwork.”

  “Thanks.” She turned and walked away from him even though every fiber in her body wanted to turn around and fling herself into his arms. But when she heard him murmur, “The blood work is coming back from Bozeman, and it’s not good,” she did turn around.

  Mrs. Walsh collapsed into a vinyl-covered chair and Lucy sank down beside her, holding her mother’s hand.

  Finn continued gently. “His liver is failing. We don’t know why. It seems to be accumulating toxins at a rapid rate, and they’re poisoning his body. I’m going to start him on a course of chelation using specially engineered cell salts.”

  “Cell salts?” Jolene Walsh repeated faintly.

  Finn explained. “It’s an experimental treatment. I’ll introduce specially designed salts into Mr. Warner’s body. If all goes well, the salt molecules will bind to the toxins in his liver. And because the body readily flushes salt out of itself, the idea is for his body to flush the salts and take the poisons with them. But we don’t have time to do lengthy studies and create a salt specifically for the toxins in Mr. Warner’s system. We’re going to have to make our best guess at which salt complex to use.”

  Rachel was impressed by Finn’s reassuring calm with Jolene. His explanation had also been clear and easy to follow. Who’d have guessed that the fun-loving teenager she’d once known would have developed into a doctor like this? Of course, the wild recklessness wasn’t entirely gone. It had been dangerous in the extreme for him to contemplate kissing her at the Walsh barbecue.

  Finn was speaking again. “…need your signature on some releases before we start the treatment, since it’s still experimental.”

  Jolene glanced up at Rachel, and she smiled at the older woman. These were the sorts of things she needed to be signing right now. Not oil-drilling contracts for Lester Atkins. And on that note, Rachel slipped quietly from the waiting room.

  When she approached the nurse’s station, the place was in chaos, with nurses rushing every which way. Apparently, there’d been a car accident outside of town and several victims were in the midst of being admitted. Rachel decided to go to the library and make her copies there. She started toward the parking lot but stopped in surprise as she spied Wes Colton standing in front of the hospital. Alarm jangled in her belly. Did his presence have something to do with Craig Warner’s mystery illness?

  She walked up to him and waited while he finished a call on his cell phone.

  “Hi, Rachel. What can I do for you?”

  “It’s what I can do for you. I’ve found something I think you might want to take a look at.”

  “Regarding?”

  “Those financial records I gave you. I may have found another place where that one mysterious signature was used. Recently.”

  “How recently?”

  “It’s dated two days ago.”

  Wes glanced around the parking lot and then leaned close to murmur, “Meet me in my office in an hour. And don’t say anything about it to anyone.”

  She nodded, feeling very James Bond-like, and headed for her car. She used the hour to run home and check on Brownie. He was still restless, and she gave him another dose of the painkiller Finn had given her.

  Wes was waiting when she arrived at his office. She opened the folder and showed him the signature, and he pulled out his copies of the financial records and compared the two.

  “Good eye, Rachel. I’ll send these off to a handwriting expert and see what he can make of it.”

  In short order, Wes had copied the contents of the entire file. As he handed the documents back to her, he asked, “Atkins likely to hassle you over not getting these signed?”

  She looked up at Wes in alarm. “I hope not.”

  “If he gives you any trouble, you let me know. Jolene won’t stand for an employee being fired for looking out for her best interest. I’ll have a word with her if Lester tries to mess with you.”

  She smiled her gratitude at him. Who’d have guessed a Colton would look out for her like this? And with a Walsh, no less. Too bad it wasn’t Finn showing such concern.

  As she stood up to leave the sheriff’s office, the bell on the outer door rang behind her. A large, familiar shadow filled the doorway. Her heart tripped and sped up.

  “Finn!” Rachel exclaimed. “Are you following me?”

  “Gee. I was just about to accuse you of the same thing,” he retorted, grinning.

  Wes looked back and forth between them shrewdly. Rachel squirmed. At this rate, everybody in town would know there were sparks flying between the two of them. But nobody seemed to believe her avowal that even though there might be sparks, she had no intention of starting any fires.

  Wes gathered up the papers on the desk. “Let me just put these in the safe and then I’ll be ready to go.”

  Rachel picked up her briefcase and headed for the door. Small problem: the only way out of the sheriff’s office was right past Finn. And he wasn’t moving. She approached him warily. “Any change in Craig Warner’s condition?”

  Finn shrugged. “We
’ve started the cell salt therapy. It’s too early to tell if it’s going to do any good.”

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  Finn’s jaw tightened and he didn’t answer. Which was answer enough.

  “I’ll say another prayer for him.”

  “Thanks, Rachel.”

  “How are you doing? Did you get any sleep last night?”

  He shrugged. “Medical school teaches you how to go without sleep. I’m okay. I just wish—”

  “Wish what?” she asked quietly.

  “I just wish I knew what in the hell is wrong with Craig,” he burst out.

  “You’ll figure it out. I know you will.” On impulse, she laid a hand on his chest and sucked in her breath at the heat and hardness of him. She’d meant the spontaneous gesture as a sympathetic one, but in the blink of an eye, tension thrummed between them, hot and thick. She glanced fearfully toward Wes’s office and very carefully removed her hand from his chest. Whoa. Note to self: do not touch Finn even under the most innocent of circumstances. Not unless she had a burning desire to scorch herself silly.

  Finn let out a slow breath. He tried to smile, but the expression seemed more of a grimace to her. “I’ll do my best not to let the Walsh family down.”

  If he could manage normal conversation, she could, too. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

  She felt anything but, normal, though. Her stomach was by turns heavy and floating, and her entire body tingled. Why did she only feel this alive when she was around him? Should she ride the wave and enjoy it while it lasted, or maybe she’d be wiser to try to wean herself off the addiction now before it got too bad.

  She moved to pass him, but he reached out and stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I—”

  She froze, waiting to see what came next.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t get to finish our conversation at the Walsh barbecue.”

  She stared, shocked. Okay. Not what she’d been expecting. He wanted to finish that kiss they’d almost started but had never gotten around to? Her gaze ducked away from his. “I’m, uh, sorry, too.”

  “Give me a rain check?”

  “Uh, sure.” Positively stunned now, she stumbled as she heard Wes coming back out into the main room. Finn steadied her, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled. And then she all but ran for the door, her cheeks on fire.

  “She okay?” Wes asked.

  Finn looked up at his brother, doing his damnedest to hide how shaken he was. He couldn’t even be in the same room with Rachel without thinking about pulling her into his arms and kissing her senseless. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t leaving town on her account anytime soon. And then she had to go and lay her hand on his chest. He’d thought he was going to come out of his skin when she touched him like that.

  Belatedly, Finn answered, “She’s great. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind.”

  “You thinking about getting back together with her?” Wes asked as they headed out the front door and Wes locked up.

  Finn opened his mouth. Shut it. His first impulse was to reply that hell yes, he was getting back together with Rachel. But the inevitable reaction he would get from Wes made him pause.

  It was a stupid idea. Hooking up with Rachel would bring him nothing but trouble. If he knew what was good for him, he’d leave well enough alone. Hell, if he really knew what was good for him, he’d get out of Honey Creek as soon as possible. Except he couldn’t walk out on Craig Warner right now. No, he definitely had to stick around town until the crisis passed for Warner one way or the other. He didn’t know whether to curse the man or bless him.

  Rather than try to field any more uncomfortable questions from Wes that had no easy answers, Finn guided the talk into safer waters. “Any progress on the Walsh murder?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Can you talk about it?”

  “Nope.”

  Finn eyed his brother speculatively. Did Rachel have anything to do with the possible break in the case? Why else would she be in the sheriff’s office? What did she know? He asked abruptly, “Is Rachel in any danger?”

  Wes glanced over at him, startled. “Why do you ask that?”

  “Umm, well, with that dog showing up on her porch shot and all…” It was a lame response but the best he could do on short notice.

  “Nah. The dog’s just one very lucky mutt to have found someone as soft-hearted as Rachel.”

  “What about whoever killed Walsh?”

  “I don’t think we have a serial killer on our hands, if that’s what you’re implying. Whoever killed Mark Walsh wanted him dead and him alone.”

  Finn exhaled heavily. “Maybe not.”

  Wes looked over sharply. The squad car slowed and Wes guided it over to the side of the road. When it was parked, he said, “You never did tell me why you called me earlier. That’s why I swung by the hospital. But you were tied up with Warner. So talk. Now.”

  Finn frowned. “There’s a chance—a small one, but a chance—that Craig Warner is the victim of foul play.”

  “How’s that?”

  “It’s too early to be sure, but I’ve ruled out just about everything else. I think it’s possible that Craig has ingested poison.”

  “Have you got any evidence?”

  “Not yet. I wouldn’t have said anything at all if you weren’t my brother, and I know you won’t go off half-cocked.”

  “When will you be able to say for sure?”

  Finn shrugged. “I’ve sent blood and tissue samples to the crime lab upstate to look for various toxins. It may be a few days before all the results come back.”

  “Let me know what you find. And I’m saying that in my official capacity.”

  Great. Another reason he was trapped here in town with Rachel. Part of him was secretly thrilled, and part of him hovered between dismay and disgust. Finn nodded unhappily as Wes muttered to himself. “Different M.O. than the Walsh murder…but, the second Walsh father figure…who’d want to see the head of the family dead?”

  Finn had a bad feeling in his gut. First Walsh and now Warner. What was going on in Honey Creek?

  Chapter 8

  Rachel stared at herself critically in the mirror, remembering another night long ago standing in front of this mirror preparing carefully for prom. The butterflies in her stomach were the same, the nervous anticipation, the worry that she had put on too much makeup and then that she hadn’t put on enough—all of it the same. Even the man on her mind was the same.

  Finn. Just thinking his name made her sigh. Although she couldn’t say exactly what the sigh meant. Maybe it was nostalgic, maybe wistful. Surely it didn’t have anything to do with being love struck, though. She knew better. Right?

  Twelve years ago, she’d piled her hair on top of her head in a mass of curls and worn a coronet of daisies. Tonight, she pulled it back into a loose French twist that was more sophisticated. More appropriate to her age. After all, she was thirty years old now—a mature woman. She snorted. More like a desperate one settling unwillingly into spinsterhood.

  Her prom dress had been a frothy yellow affair with ruffles and bows. This gown, although yellow as well, was anything but little-girly. Edna had done a magnificent job on it. The pale yellow silk draped around her in a smooth sheath, melding with her skin and hair tones until it was barely there. Whisper light, it moved like water against her skin. The long skirt was slit practically to her hip, so its narrow, hourglass cut didn’t impede her movement at all. She slipped on the gold and crystal strappy high heels that completed the ensemble. She wore no jewelry at all. The dress didn’t need it.

  The doorbell rang. That would be Carly, but Rachel couldn’t help the moment of flashback as she remembered how excited she’d been the night of prom. She’d had a surprise for Finn. She’d decided she was ready to make love to him, and that night was the night. He’d been sweet and patient and never pushed her, but she knew he’
d be thrilled to take their relationship to the next level.

  Finn had even hinted that he might be asking her to wait for him while he went off to college, and he’d even not so subtly found out what her ring size was. Had he planned on asking her to marry him? Her heart had told her that was exactly what he had in mind. And the thought made her so happy she could barely contain the joy bursting out of her. She would graduate and join him in college, and then the two of them would start a new life far away from this tiny corner of nowhere. Ha. How terribly wrong she’d been.

  She picked up the crystal-encrusted clutch that had come with the shoes and headed for the front door. She flung it open and Carly stepped inside.

  “Oh my God!” Carly exclaimed. “You did it! You finally picked out an outfit all by yourself that I approve of!”

  Rachel laughed. “You like it?”

  “Like it? I love it! You look practically naked! Finn is not going to be able to take his eyes off you.”

  “That’s not the point,” she protested. But then her conscience kicked in. Okay, so that is secretly exactly the point.

  “Regardless. Every man in the room’s going to be drooling over you, girlfriend. Hoo wee! Honey Creek isn’t going to know what hit it!”

  “Carly, I’m not trying to look like a slut. Be honest. Do I look cheap?”

  Carly answered with uncharacteristic seriousness. “Rachel, you look like a million bucks. Honest. I’ve never seen you look more beautiful or classy.”

  She hugged her cousin. “You look pretty terrific yourself.”

  Carly twirled in the black cocktail dress and the skirt flared out. “Like it?”

  “Yeah. Expecially the part where you twirl and flash your panties at everyone.”

  Carly grinned. “Not wearing any.”

  They headed out the front door and Rachel looked up. “You’re going commando?”

  “I’m thonging it. Makes me feel daring and naughty. How ’bout you? Is there any room under that dress for lingerie?”