And so their relationship was one of mutual respect for each other’s privacy. Standing at a window and looking out with a serious frown on his face, Noah thought about Mark’s wedding. If he’d attended the affair instead of merely sending a gift to the bride with a note of regret because he couldn’t be there, would he have met Maddie?
Damn, he knew so little about her! Where she lived, for instance. Obviously, she didn’t make her home in Whitehorn, but why didn’t she? And why on earth would she be driving a huge truck and pulling a trailer…? Wait a minute! That trailer was how she transported Fanny. But transported Fanny from where? Where, precisely, were Maddie’s roots? Her home? Okay, so she got hurt at a rodeo, but where was the rodeo, and what caused the accident?
Recalling how upset Maddie had become when she realized that she didn’t know at which ranch Mark had boarded Fanny, Noah went to the kitchen phone again. This time he searched the phone book for ranches that boarded horses. There were three listings fairly close to town, and operating under the assumption that Mark wouldn’t put too much distance between Maddie and her horse, he wrote those names, numbers and addresses on the pad of paper next to the phone.
A crashing gust of wind actually shook the house, and Noah jumped up from his chair and hurried to the nearest window. He’d thought the storm had already peaked, but it looked even worse outside than it had only minutes ago.
Shaking his head he returned to the phone and picked it up with the intention of calling ranches until he found the one that had taken in Fanny. Instead of a dial tone, however, all Noah heard was an ominous silence. The phone was dead. His stomach sank some, but all he could really do was hope that the electricity didn’t go off, too.
After getting his cell phone from his bag, he began making those calls. Because of the storm there was a great deal of static to contend with, but Noah’s second call proved fruitful. Fanny, or Fanchon, as Mark had signed the horse in as, was being boarded at the Braddock ranch—the Braddock Reserve, as the family who’d been buying up land around Whitehorn and beyond for some time now, called its horse and cattle ranch. Noah hadn’t personally met any of the Braddocks, but he’d heard the name mentioned many times. Immense wealth was always fodder for gossip in a small town, and apparently, from all reports, the Braddocks were loaded.
Noah wrote “seven miles west of town, county road 34” on the pad, then underlined that, the Braddock name and phone number several times. When Maddie woke up, he would relay Fanny’s whereabouts. The information, he figured, would cheer her considerably.
He sat there then, doodled on another sheet of paper and thought about how he’d taken Maddie Kincaid under his wing, so to speak. As a physician he helped people every day, but this was different. What he was doing for Maddie—in spite of the fact that she’d rather be left alone—went far beyond anything he’d done for another human being for a very long time, if ever.
Actually he couldn’t remember another circumstance where he’d given so much of himself, so it was entirely possible that he never had. With that in mind, he had to question if he was doing this for Mark or for Maddie.
It was a disruptive, unnerving question, because his friendship with Mark could hardly be described as lifelong or heartfelt, and, by the same token, he couldn’t let himself think that he’d let another woman penetrate his guard and slither into his psyche. Besides, why on earth would he be feeling anything for a woman of Maddie’s disagreeable nature? Other than a precautionary strategy to protect himself from her ungrateful wrath, he should be symbolically keeping her at arm’s length and viewing her as impersonally as he did all of his patients.
A glance toward a window abruptly ended Noah’s self-analysis. If he was going to stay in this house to keep watch on Maddie, which appeared to be the case—at least for tonight—then he had better risk a drive to his own home to pick up a few things. Noah got up and checked the refrigerator and cabinets for food. Maddie might subsist just fine on canned food, but he didn’t. He was a vegetable addict, and he liked them cooked or raw, as long as they were fresh.
Okay, he thought, there was meat in the freezer and the essentials in the refrigerator. Along with his toothbrush, shaving gear and a change of clothes, he’d bring back from his house his supply of fresh vegetables and make Maddie—and himself—a truly nourishing dinner.
He put on his jacket to brave the storm, when he decided that a note was in order, just in case Maddie woke up. He wrote a quick message about being gone for about an hour, then brought it to the bedroom Maddie was occupying and propped it up against the base of the lamp on the bed stand. Thinking that she could hardly miss seeing it, he took a moment to make sure she wasn’t feverish or sweating, then he left.
He wasn’t gone twenty minutes when Maddie stirred and opened her eyes. The fierce sounds of the blizzard were frightening, but only because Maddie’s first thoughts were about Fanny. Where had Mark taken her? Was Fanny in a barn or some other type of shelter, or was she standing in knee-deep snow with her head down and her hind quarters toward the wind?
“No…no,” Maddie moaned, shaken to her soul by that horrifying image. She had to do something, she had to! Where was that…that person…that Noah?
She yelled his name and got no response, and so she pushed back the comforter and slid off the bed. Come hell, high water or a record blizzard, she was going to find Fanny! Not until she saw with her own eyes that Fanny was warm and dry would she stop worrying.
But to do anything outside she had to dress warmly. Her mind was much clearer than it had been, and she knew that warm clothing was a must. Discarding her skirt and blouse, she checked her abrasions and applied more antibiotic ointment to them. They were healing nicely, although she still had more aches and pains in her joints and muscles than she could count. But she couldn’t take another pain pill and do any driving, and finding the ranch where Mark had boarded Fanny wasn’t going to be accomplished without some driving.
She donned Mark’s thermal long johns again, then pulled on a pair of his ski pants. Her own things were just too fitted to be comfortable, and while she swam in Mark’s huge clothes, at least they didn’t chafe her bruises.
Bundled in a jacket, scarf, lined boots and gloves, Maddie left the bedroom wing of the house and lumbered to the kitchen. Eyeing the telephone she wondered about trying to locate Fanny that way, rather than driving around the countryside in a blizzard without an actual destination. It made sense, she decided, and picked up the phone, only to hear the same deadly silence that Noah had.
Frowning, Maddie wondered again where he was. Since he wasn’t in the house it appeared that he’d deserted her, but she was glad that he had as he was too darned bossy for her taste. She set down the phone and only then noticed the pieces of paper that someone—it could only have been nosy Noah—had doodled and written on.
The underlined words stood out, and she read aloud, “Fanchon. Braddock ranch, seven miles west on county road 34.” Maddie knew exactly where county road 34 was. It was an old road that led to the Meadows, an area of ponds and springs that had been a favorite hangout on hot summer days during her teen years. Was there a ranch out there now? Must be, she thought, looking at the words “Braddock ranch” again.
Well, she could certainly drive seven miles, and if Fanny wasn’t under cover she would lead her into the trailer and bring her back here. If nothing else, she could tether Fanny in Mark’s garage, which had little space to spare but would still be better for Fanny than being outside in the storm.
Moving cautiously in spite of so much determination to get this done, Maddie opened the kitchen door and was nearly driven back inside by the force of the wind. She lowered her head and pushed into the fray, making sure the door was locked behind her.
Wading through drifts, she huddled deeper into her oversize clothing and finally reached her truck. The trailer was still hooked onto it, which gladdened her, and she climbed up into the driver’s seat of the truck and inserted the key into the ignition. The e
ngine was cold and took its sweet time in starting. But finally it was running smoothly, and even the heater began throwing warm air.
Pushing the floor lever she put the truck in four-wheel drive, then the transmission in drive and stepped on the gas. The truck began rolling, grinding its way through the snow. The wipers kept the windshield relatively clear and the defrosters and heater were beginning to melt what snow still clung to the front window.
Maddie was on her way, leaving Mark’s backyard, towing the trailer behind the truck and finally entering the street, which, to her dismay, wasn’t plowed!
“Thank God for four-wheel drive.” She spoke passionately, feeling gratefully positive that she’d have no trouble in reaching her destination with such a powerful truck.
At his own house Noah got a small suitcase from his closet. After packing the things that he felt were necessary for an overnight stay away from home, he carried the case to the kitchen and set it down. Raiding the refrigerator, he filled a sack with fresh vegetables and fruit. Moving purposefully, he checked his telephone and found it to be dead, also.
Carrying his things then, he left the comfort, warmth and familiarity of the very pleasant ranch-style house he’d purchased only last summer, and braved the freezing cold and blowing snow to reach his SUV. He got in fast and after laying his suitcase and sack on the passenger seat, he wiped melting snow from his face and started the engine.
Driving back to Mark’s house, he was relieved to see so little traffic. People were staying in, which was only wise during such a fierce blizzard. He’d be inside for the rest of the day and tonight, and maybe by morning the storm would have abated. It might even be over by then. Hell, it could be over by the time he parked in Mark’s driveway.
He drove slowly and with due precaution. Beneath the drifts, and the blowing snow that was all but eliminating visibility, the roads were slippery and treacherous. For about the tenth time that winter he thanked heaven that he’d bought a rig with four-wheel drive. Two-wheel drive just didn’t cut it in snow and mud, and sometimes mud was a problem on back roads during and after a hard rainfall.
He realized that today’s storm—or last month’s mud—wasn’t the primary crisis on his mind. Maddie Kincaid was a royal pain, but she was in a heck of a situation and he couldn’t turn his back on her. To be perfectly honest he would like to, he thought grimly, noticing that the streetlights were beginning to come on. They were barely visible and really provided only one thing: a demarcation of streets for the few people who were out and about.
For idiots like me, Noah thought in total self-castigation. He hadn’t had to promise Mark anything. At the very least he should have swamped Mark with questions. What’s your sister’s attitude toward strangers? How did she get hurt? Are you certain about the extent of her injuries? Will she listen to and heed my advice?
But no, he’d asked nothing, Mark had given him a house key and that had been that. You damn fool, you deserve Maddie Kincaid!
But then, for some unknown reason, Noah started thinking about laughing himself weak when Maddie threatened him with that paperweight. God, that had been funny. Had he ever seen anything funnier in all of his life? For that matter, had he ever met a spunkier woman? Okay, so she was exactly the handful that Mark had said she was, but wasn’t the incredibly good laugh she’d provided him practically priceless?
But there was something else drawing him to Maddie, and while he didn’t like thinking the words sex appeal, what else caused a man’s blood to stir in that one special way? Besides, sexual attraction was nothing more than hormonal chemistry and he shouldn’t get all tensed up over a physiological phenomenon he could do nothing about. Self-control was in the intellect, not in a man’s groin! All he had to do was disallow any emotional involvement with Maddie, which, considering the state of her health, shouldn’t be all that difficult.
Finally reaching Mark’s home, Noah steered his SUV through the snow that was all but concealing the driveway and parked. He hoped the nerve-racking journey to his house and back had been his final foray of the day, as he was more than ready to go inside and stay inside. Taking his suitcase and bag of fruit and vegetables in one hand, he pushed open the driver’s door and then got the house key from his jacket pocket.
He slogged through the snow to the house and unlocked the door. Daylight was growing weaker; the storm was causing a premature nightfall, and Noah felt a strong and rather discomfiting sense of isolation. Probably everyone within the perimeter of the blizzard’s ferocious appetite felt it, he thought as he flipped the wall switch to turn on the kitchen’s ceiling lights.
The kitchen that he himself had tidied earlier looked cozy and welcoming. Warm air blew from the furnace vents. Noah set his sack on a counter and his suitcase on the floor, then shed his cold-weather gear. The laundry room was just off the kitchen, and Noah hung his things on some handy hooks near the dryer.
Returning to the kitchen he picked up his suitcase and strode toward the bedroom area. Since the house contained only two bedrooms, he would have to sleep in Mark and Darcy’s bed. He couldn’t imagine them minding, not when he told them about Maddie’s trickery and that she’d been ten times worse off than she’d made them believe. She had a story in her, none of which he’d heard yet, but he would.
Determined to take hold of the upper hand the second he saw the deceitful Miss Kincaid, Noah passed the open door of her room. He glanced in and stopped dead in his tracks. Maddie wasn’t on the bed sleeping, as she’d been when he left, and so far he’d neither seen nor heard anything that would lead him to believe she or anyone else was in the house. So, where was she?
The bathroom door was ajar and Noah, feeling wary and highly suspicious of the silence that now seemed to cause pressure in his ears, rapped on it and called, “Maddie?”
The continuing silence didn’t surprise Noah, but it did cause him the start of a tension headache. Leaving his suitcase on the hall carpet, he began going from room to room and calling her name. He couldn’t imagine a grown woman playing a foolish game of hide-and-seek with him, but she had to be somewhere in the house.
He looked everywhere, even moving clothes aside in closets and checking under beds. Muttering curses, getting angrier by the second, he wound up back in Maddie’s bedroom. Only then did he spot the blouse and skirt she’d been wearing earlier on the foot of the bed, lying in a heap.
His gaze next went to the note he’d left on the bedstand, still propped up exactly as he’d arranged it. Hadn’t she seen it? Read it? Where in God’s name had she gone? Why had she gone anywhere on a day like this?
Suddenly deeply shaken, Noah rushed back to the kitchen. There, by the telephone, was the pad he’d used to keep track of his calls to find Maddie’s horse. She saw this, and she’s out looking for her damned horse! My God, my God, she could die in this storm.
Noah was positive she was not running around in this record-breaking blizzard because of having ingested too much pain medication. He’d seen to that quite effectively, and had even gone so far before he’d left the house to secrete his medical bag on a high shelf in one of the laundry room cabinets. Not that he could let himself actually believe that Mark’s sister would go through his medical bag looking for drugs, but it was always better to be safe than sorry.
Following that credo and hoping ardently that the bag hadn’t been touched, he got it down from its perch and looked through it carefully. Nothing had been disturbed; everything was in its place. He breathed a sigh of relief and regretted his slight but still unmistakable suspicion that Maddie Kincaid would do such a thing.
Grim desperation was his next emotion. Placing the medical bag on the kitchen table, he once again put on his outside gear. Where he would start looking for her, he didn’t know, but he couldn’t just stay in this nice warm house and ignore the fact that she might be wandering around outside—maybe just in her brother’s yard, if she was truly disoriented—and could freeze to death in a very short time. For one thing, how was she dress
ed? What had she put on in place of the skirt and blouse?
Worried, furious and sick at heart, Noah went outside. It was darker than when he’d gone in, and soon it would be very dark. The falling snow was so dense that visibility was practically nil. A streetlight was merely a distant and all-but-useless ball of diffused light.
Wading through the deepening snow to his vehicle, Noah took out his flashlight and turned it on. After taking a few steps from his SUV, he shouted, “Maddie!” and heard the howling wind and heavy snowfall muffle his voice to a disturbing degree.
He kept going, shining the beam of his flashlight around Mark’s yard only because he didn’t know where else to look. His mind raced with possibilities. For one, maybe a friend had dropped in and Maddie had gone with her or him. But that hope was so lame. People weren’t out visiting friends today; people were staying home today!
Abruptly Noah decided to call the police for assistance, and he slapped his jacket pockets in search of his cell phone. He didn’t have it! Where had he left it? When had he last used it?
He had reached the area behind Mark’s garage and was so overloaded with fear and dread that he could not, for the life of him, remember what he’d done with his cell phone. Panic beset him, for the house phones were dead and now he was totally without communication of any kind.
“Maddie! Maddie!” he yelled as loudly as he could. The wind took his words and carried them away. In the very next heartbeat Noah stared, wiped snow from his face and eyes and stared again. He shone the flashlight around, zipping it one way then another, and told himself that he wasn’t seeing clearly.
But he was. Maddie’s white truck and trailer were gone!
Chapter Five
The wind was brutal, lifting and hurling ground snow as well as what was still falling, creating a surreal world that was at the same time precariously authentic. This was no irrational dream, and Noah fully understood the dangers of Maddie driving her heavy truck and trailer in this harsh, unmerciful storm with only one hand. His other concern—more like intense worry—was her state of mind. Was she even seeing clearly, let alone thinking that way?
Marked for Marriage Page 7
