“That only leaves about a hundred places he could’ve been.” Jason drained his coffee cup and rose. “Next time, you get the license plate number.”
“I got part of it.” Hunter had walked into the lobby without her noticing him. Devoid of mud, with his hair damp but combed, he looked solid and appealing, a steady force to cling to.
Suddenly Ashley wanted to cling to him. An aching loneliness opened inside her, and she wanted his arms around her to help alleviate that pain she usually kept at bay with work. Her heart raced at the idea of being held by this quiet man with his nerdy glasses hiding gorgeous blue eyes, with his calm assurance, with a suppressed sadness. Her face warmed. She clamped down on her sudden attraction to him and shrank back a step closer to Jason.
He was fully focused on Hunter. “You got part of the number. Can I hope a city boy like you got the make too?”
Hunter ignored the rudeness. “I did. It was an F-150.”
“You’re sure?” Jason hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his uniform trousers, pushing back his coat to show his service weapon.
Ashley glared at him for such absurd male posturing.
Hunter propped one shoulder against the doorframe, hands relaxed. “We use them on jobs. Jacked-up tires and all. Helps in off-road situations.”
“Jobs? What kind of jobs?” Jason’s jaw looked downright pugnacious.
Ashley poked him in the ribs with a gentle fist. “For goodness’ sake, Jase, he’s a tunnel engineer. He works with heavy equipment all the time. I’ll bet he’s even driven an F-150, and maybe even a Humvee.”
“Once or twice.” Hunter’s smile came and went in a flash.
Long enough to send Ashley’s tummy tumbling despite her efforts to return to being indifferent to him. Afraid her face might show something, she scooped up her and Jason’s cups and headed for the coffeepot. “You want some, Hunter?”
“Yes, thank you.” He straightened from his casual stance and joined her at the carafe. He smelled deliciously of something crisp and clean, citrus and woodsy at the same time. “My business partner needs some information from me right away, so if you want to go on home, I can get my car tomorrow.”
“Will it take long?” Ashley stirred sugar into Jason’s coffee and snapped on the plastic lid.
“Perhaps a quarter hour.”
“I’ll wait.”
“You’re sure? You must be starving.”
She shrugged. “I’m used to going without. Another fifteen minutes won’t make a difference.”
“If you’re certain.”
“You’re wasting time asking.”
“Touché.” He strode from the lobby, already pulling his phone from his pocket, leaving Ashley chilled again, though he hadn’t touched her.
To warm her hands, she picked up the two cups of coffee and returned to Jason. “This should keep you going.”
“So what is he to you?” Jason took the cup from her but didn’t drink.
“Nothing.” She couldn’t really even call them friends.
“Uh-huh. You looked at him like he’s dinner.”
The clerk set down his video game and stared.
Ashley’s face burned. “Don’t be an idiot. I don’t behave that way, and you know it.”
“You might for a city feller like that.”
Ashley considered herself a healer, committed to kindness and grace and mercy. At that moment, she wanted to punch Jason—hard. She’d kept herself pure, though she had lost several boyfriends because of it. Nothing like seeing the struggles of single mothers to remind her of the consequences of going astray, even if she was tempted. And now Heather’s troubles—a disaster—added to that. The implication that she would go astray with someone simply because he was different cut deep for reasons she didn’t understand. Maybe because of Heather, the last person Ashley expected to go over the line? If it could happen to Heather, then anyone could fall if she let her guard down. Ashley was, after all, heading into the city to advance her medical career. She was nearly thirty. She had delivered hundreds of babies with no prospects of having her own. Temptation could strike.
“I barely know him.” She said it too forcefully.
Jason’s knowing grin told her she was trying too hard.
“He’s a nice man.” She tried another tack.
“He’s got the hots for you.”
“He does not.” This time she could laugh off his remark with genuine amusement. “As you said, he’s a city boy. His family is important. He doesn’t need a country mouse like me.”
Jason covered her hand with his. “More like a wildflower waiting to be picked.”
“Picked wildflowers fade pretty quick.” Ashley removed her hand. “Isn’t your break over yet?”
“It’s just getting started, since I was working when I took your report.”
“Do you think you can track down the truck?” Ashley seized on the change of subject.
“Maybe.” Footfalls sounded on the steps. Jason glanced up and added, “Probably. We got this database where we can put in the vehicle type and match it with numbers, even partial numbers. Round here, we might end up with a few matches, but it’s a start.”
“Good. I want to know what happened to that girl.”
“So would child protective services.”
Ashley leaned toward him. “Where is the baby?”
Jason shrugged. “Out of the hospital and in a foster home by now, I expect.”
“The poor thing.” Her heart ached for the child whose mother didn’t hold her upon birth, one of the main reasons why women chose to use a midwife—so they could have more control over the birth process.
That young mother had no control over her birthing conditions. Or her life.
“Find that man.” Ashley’s tone was harsh.
“It’s a priority.” Jason tossed his cup into the trash and gripped Ashley’s shoulder. “I gotta go, but you be careful out there. I don’t like what happened today.”
“I didn’t either. I wonder . . .” Hunter entered the lobby and she trailed off. She wasn’t about to express her fears in front of him. He would think her crazy.
The look Jason shot Hunter as he passed him on the way to the front door spoke volumes of what he was telling her to take care about. He didn’t think she was in danger from the man in the jacked-up truck; he thought Hunter McDermott posed more of a risk. Not hardly. Ashley disposed of her own empty cup and joined Hunter. “Ready?”
“I’m ready.” He opened the door to a blast of cold but blessedly dry air.
Ashley waved to the clerk, who had returned to his video game, and headed for her Tahoe, Hunter right behind her. She chose to drive. Sitting in the passenger seat simply made her too uncomfortable, though she was kind of glad Hunter had been driving that afternoon. She wasn’t sure she would have dared back around a curve with the speed he had managed.
“Are you and the deputy an item?” Hunter asked her out of the blue.
Ashley braked too hard at the exit of the parking lot. “Jason and me? Not hardly. We’ve known each other all our lives. He’s practically a third brother.”
“Just making sure I don’t offend anyone locally.”
“I didn’t say you wouldn’t do that where he’s concerned. I think he’d like a little more between us, but it isn’t gonna happen.” She headed up her road. Darkness closed around them save for her headlights and an occasional glimmer of a house light up a long, winding driveway. “I’m not in a place in my life where I can even think about a relationship.”
There, she’d set the boundaries.
“And what is that place, Ashley Tolliver? You seem well-established and respected here.”
“I am, but I want to be more. I want—” She thought of that acceptance letter and changed her wording. “I am going away next fall.”
“Leaving here? Why?”
“Med school. I’ve been accepted to the Medical College of Virginia, but I’m still waiting for Georgetown and George Washingt
on University.”
“Why? I mean, obviously you want to be a doctor instead of a midwife, but why would you give up your home, where you have so much family history and friends and people who need you?”
“I wouldn’t be giving them up forever, just for the years it’ll take me to get my MD, then I’ll come back.”
“And in the meantime? What will your patients do without you?”
“I’m working on finding someone to take over for me.” So far a colossal fail.
“It’s something I’ve always wanted to do—be a doctor. I was accepted at Georgetown eight years ago.”
“Why didn’t you go? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”
“I don’t.” Except her throat closed and she couldn’t speak for several minutes.
“That’s all right. I’ve just seen a little of how your patients depend on you, so wondered why—or how—you could leave.”
“It’s harder now, that’s true.” Ashley had herself under control. “My younger brother got in a terrible car accident. His car went out of control on an icy road and rolled down an embankment. He wasn’t found for several hours.”
“I can see how that might happen around here.” Hunter gestured to the empty road and towering trees.
Ashley nodded. “He was doing his residency and was on his way home for a few days he had off after Christmas.” She swung the Tahoe into her drive. The lights swept over woods and lawn and a house left dark because she hadn’t expected to be gone so long.
They should get motion-sensor lights for times like this. The house looked too big and lonely, a dark hulk rising from the land with not so much as a wisp of smoke in the air to indicate civilization nearby.
Ashley’s heart grew heavy as she pulled around to the back without turning off the engine so she could finish her story.
“He needed lots of nursing, and that fell to Momma mostly. Gramma was getting old and having a hard time keeping up with the practice, so they asked me to switch to a midwifery program fairly close to home—Winchester is only a four-hour drive away or so—instead of going off to med school for years. For a while, we thought my brother would need permanent care, you see.”
“So you gave up med school for your family.”
“And the people here on the mountain. Too many of them won’t go to a doctor and get proper care. We have always been the best alternative, usually a preferable alternative because they trust us and we know what we’re doing.”
“I saw that today.” Hunter dropped his hand onto the console a hair from hers. “Mary Kate only went to the hospital because you insisted.”
“I know.” Ashley drummed her fingers on the leather console cover. “But how much more could I do if I could translate that trust into trust of a doctor who also knows midwifery skills?”
“If you don’t lose that trust by going away for several years. What? Six?”
“I can do my residency at the hospital here.”
“A hospital you say yourself most of your patients won’t go to.”
Ashley glared at him. “Why do you think I shouldn’t go to med school? Because you think I’m just a poor, dumb mountain midwife who can’t hack the work?”
“You are anything but dumb, Ashley.” He covered her restless fingers with his hand so warm and strong, surprisingly calloused. Or maybe not surprisingly. He wasn’t the type of city man who spent his days behind a desk.
His voice flowed through the cabin of the SUV, as warm as his skin, as gentle as his touch. “I’ve just witnessed a fraction of what people here think of you in what you do now and wondered why you feel the need to change it. Even those men who helped us today know who you are and spoke of you with respect.”
“I could be respected more.”
“Perhaps.” He looked at her, his expression inscrutable in the dim lights from the dash. “I’ve just seen too many friends and acquaintances change careers because they want more power, more money, more respect—whatever. They mortgage their futures with student loans and no family, and then it doesn’t happen the way they thought.”
“I won’t need student loans. Between my patients with Medicaid and insurance, I make a very good living and my living expenses are low. I’ve done nothing but save for years.” Her head told her to remove her hand from his and say good night. She couldn’t move.
“And I have no family to keep me here. My brothers are both in city practices, and Momma and Daddy are constantly going somewhere around the world.”
“So I take it your brother recovered?”
“He did. Fully, and continued with his education. But I was halfway through my master’s in nurse-midwifery and Gramma was getting sick by then, so I finished up and was available to take over Gramma’s part of the work by the time she was too ill to do so. And then she died and Momma wanted to go overseas . . .”
“And both your brothers are doctors.”
“Yes.” She responded as though he had asked a question. “We’ve had a few doctors in the family, but none of the women have ever gone to med school. According to her diary, one of my ancestors way back a hundred and fifty years ago wanted her daughter to become a doctor even before women were going to med school, but the War Between the States stopped that idea. And I’m going to be the first, God willing.”
He laughed. “That’s always how it ends, isn’t it—God willing. And if he’s not?”
“I’ve been accepted, haven’t I? Looks like he is.” Unless she could find no one to take on the practice.
Restless, she drew her hand free, chilling her fingers in an instant despite the warmth from the heater, and shut off the engine. “I need to feed the cats.”
“And I’m keeping you from dinner.” He opened his door. The overhead light showed his smile and his fatigue. “Perhaps we can go hunting for my mystery woman tomorrow.”
“I should have the time.” She slid out her side, reluctant to enter that dark and empty house save for the cats, who would abandon her the instant she filled their bowls. “I can’t offer you more than soup and sandwiches, but would you like to join me?”
“I would. Thank you.” No hesitation, no false protests, just a simple acceptance.
She liked that—too much.
She rounded the back of the Tahoe to remove her equipment cases. Hunter took them from her without a word. She let him be the gentleman, locked the Tahoe, and led the way into the house.
The cats met them at the door, yowling and purring in turns, winding around their ankles, and even rising on their back legs to beg like small dogs.
“I’m so sorry.” Ashley laughed as she flipped on lights and waded through felines to get to her exam room. “They’re hungry.”
“Where’s their food? I can feed them while you get into dry clothes.”
Her clothes were dry but must look terrible.
“In the cellar. You’ll see it at the bottom of the steps.” She peeled off her muddy hoodie and tossed it onto a hook. “Thanks. I’ll be quick.”
She raced upstairs. She could wash up some and change. But once she got a look at herself in a mirror, she decided a quick shower was in order. She was all over mud, including her hair. But drying it enough to braid would take too long. She ran the blow-dryer long enough to take the drips from her hair, then left it down and scrambled to slap on a little makeup and clean clothes. For a moment, she was tempted to put on something like a pair of dress slacks and a nice sweater. That, however, seemed too obvious, so she settled for jeans and a sweater, a light-pink cashmere she would never wear for work. With her feet shoved into ballet flats with sparkly beads on the toes instead of the usual canvas ones she could wash, she declared herself as ready as she could be and descended to the ground floor to find the first male guest she had entertained, however casually, in nearly a year. Other than Jason, of course, but he didn’t count.
Hunter stood at the sink rinsing out a sponge, and the room smelled of the coffee dripping into the carafe.
Ashley’s heart sk
ipped a beat or two, and she smiled a little too broadly to draw up the tightness in her chest. “Your momma sure raised you right.”
“My mother had a maid to clean up after her. But life in the field can get a little rank if one doesn’t learn to clean up after . . . oneself . . .” He turned as he spoke, and his voice trailed off. His eyes widened behind the small rectangular lenses of his glasses. “Your hair’s down.”
“I know.” Ashley tugged on a damp end. “It had mud in it, but I didn’t want to take the time to dry it. But I’ll clip it back so it doesn’t get in the food.”
“Um, no problem. I was just surprised is all.” He returned his attention to the now-spotless sink. “Can I help you prepare something?”
“Let me see what’s in the freezer. I know I have stuff for sandwiches, so that’s no problem. But I think something hot like soup would be right fine right now.” She crossed the room to stick her warm cheeks in the freezer. “I think I still have some chicken soup in here. I can cook up some noodles.” She drew out a plastic container of chicken soup and carried it to the microwave. “We also have salad. Potato. Pasta. Fruit.”
“Sounds like a feast. Let me help.”
As though he had done so a dozen times—prepared a meal with someone else—Hunter worked with Ashley to prepare their nearly midnight feast of cold salad and sandwiches, hot soup and coffee. Ashley was so used to other males who sat at the table watching her work in the kitchen that she forgot Hunter was moving around and bumped into him twice. Once, she sent a bottle of mustard flying from his hand to thud on the floor and spray yellow goo across the tiles. The other she dropped a cellophane sleeve of crackers—open—and sent the disks sailing about like flying saucers.
“I am so sorry.” Her eyes burned. “It’s a good thing I’m not this clumsy when catching babies.” She dropped to her knees to gather up crackers.
“I expect you’re more on your own and in charge then.” Hunter joined her on the floor, then rose again and glanced around. “Where’s a broom? That’s probably faster.”
The Mountain Midwife Page 17
