by Anne Manning
He passed her and headed straight for the basement stairs.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"I'm going to hide out in the rec room. There's a couch down there, right?" he whispered.
"Yes," Annabelle answered, following him down the stairs. She hadn't expected him to settle in. "How long are you thinking of staying?" All she needed was for her mother to wake up and find this guy here. Annabelle wasn't in the mood for a hysterical scene right now.
"Just until I can figure a way out of this." He dropped onto the beat-up plaid sofa, stretching his long legs. A grimace twisted his face and a grunt of discomfort ground from his throat.
"What's wrong, Lucas? Are you hurt?" Annabelle knelt in front of him and laid her hand on his knee.
Lucas squinted at her. "Just a little. I fear I injured my shoulder a bit, tore something."
"Oh. Let me get you something. Some aspirin?"
"No! No aspirin."
Annabelle jumped at his tone. He sounded like she'd offered him strychnine.
"No aspirin," he repeated more quietly. "Upsets my stomach, you see. Just a teaspoon of cinnamon in a cup of hot tea, if it wouldn't be too much trouble."
His charming smile, so like his older brother's, melted some of her unease about this whole thing.
"No trouble at all." She left him stretched quietly on the sofa and went up the stairs to the kitchen. All the while she heated the water and spooned out the cinnamon into the cup and waited, she wondered how to break the news to her mother that Erin's missing lover was in the basement.
"Annabelle?" her mother's sleepy voice drifted into the kitchen through the midnight silence.
"Mom, you should be in bed."
"I thought I heard voices. Were you talking to yourself?"
With a start, Annabelle realized her mother had heard her and Lucas.
Pinning up a smile, she turned to Susan. "With all this going on with Erin, I guess I just needed to talk to someone, and I didn't want to wake you."
"What are you making there?" Mom peeked around Annabelle's shoulder.
"Just some tea. Want some?"
"Thanks." Her mother stepped away and leaned on the counter. "Is that cinnamon?" She sniffed the air. "Ummm."
Annabelle sprinkled some cinnamon into the second cup she took down from cabinet. Then she poured the hot water into the cups. Handing one to her mother, she wondered how she'd get back down into the basement.
"When did you start drinking tea?" Mom asked, daintily raising the cup to her lips. "I thought you didn't like it," she smiled, "unless it was iced and heavily sweetened."
Annabelle sought an explanation. "I've heard it's soothing. After tonight, I need some soothing."
"Uh-huh. Me, too." Mom took her cup to the small trestle table in the breakfast nook and sat down, gazing out on the back lawn.
"Mom, why don't you go back to bed? It's still so early. You need your sleep."
"Maybe I can finish my tea first?" she replied, her lips curving. "You know, Annabelle, I can decide for myself if I need to go to bed."
It was the first time Annabelle could remember her mother declaring her independence. She smiled.
"Of course you can. I'm just worried about you."
Her mother's rueful smile faded. "Poor Annabelle. So many people to look after." Like so many times before, Annabelle watched her mother's attention wander, her eyes lose their focus. Her hands ached to grab her mother's shoulders, shake her, bring her back. But she was powerless, and could only watch, as her mother slipped away again.
Mom sat silently, hands wrapped around her cup, sipping gently.
"What do you think of what Erin said?" The question came out of nowhere.
"Don't worry about her," Annabelle said, trying to be supportive and strong. Deciding to try her fictional account out on her mother, she added, "They just had a tiff and Erin let herself get worked up about it. She probably did look crazy to the cops when they got there."
She stared into the cup steeping on the counter, as though she could find answers there. Suddenly, her neck began to tingle as she felt a pair of eyes on her. Turning, her gaze locked with her mother's.
"That's not kind, Annabelle." Her mother's softly spoken chastisement sent a blade of shame into Annabelle's heart.
"I didn't mean I thought so," Annabelle said, by way of apology. She stood by the counter while her mother drank her tea, very slowly.
"Mom," Annabelle began, "what do you think? Do you think Lucas abandoned her?"
"I don't know. How can we ever know what another person is capable of doing?" Mom drained her tea and rose slowly from the table. "I guess, if Erin has faith in him, we have to trust her feelings. We'll just have to believe she knows him as well as she thinks she does."
Believe. Funny how many times today that word had been spoken.
"Goodnight, dear. I'll see you in the morning." Her mother stopped at the door and turned back with a smile. "Thanks for the tea."
"Goodnight, Mom."
Annabelle stood in the kitchen, listening to the soft footsteps of her mother as she went back to bed. In the silence, the gentle click as the bedroom door shut sounded loud enough to wake the dead and was plenty to snap Annabelle out of her stupor.
Taking the cup of tea, she opened the door to the basement stairs and carefully descended. A soft rattle echoed through the rec room.
Lucas was sprawled across the sofa, his long legs dangling off the edge, his left arm crooked over his eyes. His mouth was slightly open and he snored.
"I suppose you don't want the tea?" Annabelle asked in a whisper.
Lucas snored his answer.
He looked so young, so innocent, she couldn't find it in her heart to wake him or hassle him about his mysterious comments hinting at danger for Erin because of their relationship.
She puffed a huff of dismissal.
"It's the twenty-first century, for heaven's sake. People don't get arrested or beat up because of who they love," she whispered, as she set the tea on the table and pulled a spread from the back of the sofa and laid it over Lucas, tucking it in at his shoulders.
Explanations would have to wait until morning.
* * * *
Mom took the morning shift with Erin. After meeting her for lunch at the Carolina Inn, Annabelle arrived at the hospital just after one, worn out from a lack of sleep and freshly irritated by Lucas's unwillingness to explain. The last thing Annabelle wanted to see when she arrived at Erin's hospital room was his big brother with his perfect rear perched on the edge of Erin's bed, and both of them apparently enjoying a wonderful visit.
"What happened then?" Erin asked, between giggles.
"Dad took Lucas into the yard and filled a pipe and made him smoke the whole thing. Turned green as a frog, he did, and puked his guts empty right there."
"Oh, no," Erin covered her mouth with her hand. "Was he all right? Oh, how stupid. Of course he was." She giggled again. "I suppose he never touched your father's pipe again?"
"Never," Gaelen winked at her broadly, "unless I kept watch for him."
Erin's good spirits raised Annabelle's own. Yet the presence of Gaelen Riley quickened a strange tension that tightened her joints and twisted her stomach into twitchy knots. Under other circumstances, she might have thought the feeling pleasant.
"Dr. Riley," she said, breaking up story time. "You're here early."
He squinted at her. "No need for formality, Miss Tinker. The 'doctor' is purely an academic title. 'Gaelen' will do fine."
"Gaelen came by hoping to run into Lucas," Erin offered, "but unfortunately, Lucas seems to have abandoned me again. We don't have any idea where he is, do we?"
Since Lucas was gone by the time she got up this morning, Annabelle could answer honestly. "None at all."
"What a pity. I'm sure you'll relay my message when you do see him. But I am glad of seeing you again." Gaelen smiled.
"Are you?" Annabelle said, just as the door opened behind her with a scr
ape.
"Well, well. Hello, Gaelen." Dr. Duncan raised the metal cover from a hospital chart and started reading. When she spoke it was to Gaelen. "I hadn't thought to see you here again."
With a devilish grin, Gaelen replied, "Linette, my little songbird, how could I stay away from a gentle creature like yourself?"
Annabelle felt her forehead wrinkle. The wordplay was that of people who knew each other well. Extremely well. The diminutive Dr. Duncan hardly seemed like Gaelen's type, though Annabelle quickly realized she didn't know what his type was. Nor did she care.
"You'll have to leave now, Gaelen. Miss Tinker." Dr. Duncan, in her coolly efficient way, laid the chart on the foot of Erin's bed and took them by an elbow each, herding them toward the door. "Examination time, you know."
Erin's startled expression made Annabelle open her mouth to object, but she was out the door before she could voice a word.
"Pushy little pixie," Gaelen whispered under his breath.
"Excuse me?"
"The doctor. Linette. She's a pushy, opinionated-"
"She's the doctor, Dr. Riley. She's got the right to be authoritative if she feels she has to be." Surprised as she was to be defending the overbearing little doctor, Annabelle felt an unfamiliar impulse to lock horns with him. "You don't have a problem with that, do you?"
"What? With a pushy--"
"You already said she was pushy."
"And so she is. And loud-mouthed and irritable and..."
She could see him editing his comments.
"Go ahead. Say it." Annabelle let her temper rise, masking the other things swimming in her feelings tank.
"Say what?"
"Say the word. Don't look at me like that. You know perfectly well what word. The one men always use about a woman they can't run over." She dared him silently.
"Bitch."
"I knew it," she crowed. "You're intimidated by that tiny, pretty woman just because she won't let you charm her to get your way."
"You told me to say it. And do you deny some women are bitches?"
"Dr. Duncan--"
"Dr. Duncan's picture is beside the entry for the word in the Oxford English Dictionary."
Annabelle couldn't keep the smile from her lips.
"So, those lips can smile. I was beginning to wonder."
"Leave my lips--"
"Can't even consider it. Such lips have inspired verse, songs, mur-r-r-r-der."
The last word was spoken with an exaggerated accent, comical, yet sexy, all at the same time.
"My lips are none of your concern, Dr. Riley." She wanted to clear her throat, her voice sounded so scratchy.
"A situation I would like very much to change."
Annabelle stared at him. What did that mean? Was he really coming on to her?
As if to give her no doubt such was indeed his intention, he stepped closer. Annabelle stepped back and found herself backed to the wall. Standing in front of her, so close her breasts brushed against his broad chest, he raised one long arm and rested it over her shoulder. His eyes bore deep into hers as though he would ferret out every secret she had.
She broke his gaze and concentrated on a clock on the opposite wall.
"I'm not interested, Dr. Riley." She ducked under his arm and starting toward the elevator.
"Not interested?"
Annabelle couldn't resist turning to see the expression accompanying his words. Gaelen stood as though frozen, his brow deeply furrowed.
"Not interested?" he repeated, his tone incredulous.
She barely suppressed the giggle threatening to ruin her serious façade.
"You think all you have to do is grin and wink and tell charming stories and any woman will fall for you? Hah!" Annabelle turned to continue to the elevator.
"Miss Tinker, wait."
Gaelen's footsteps echoed behind her, making her stomp louder to drown them out. When he started to run to catch up, she felt a wave of apprehension.
"Wait, now." He got in front of her and blocked her way, stopping her. "I think we got off on the wrong foot, Miss Tinker. I'd like very much to try to make it up to you. If you're not busy, would you go to dinner with me tonight?" He grinned, blue eyes twinkling. "Let me try to prove I'm not a monster."
"Why are you asking me out?"
"Why?" He appeared confused. "Because I want to."
"I really don't know you at all."
"Well, then, let's fix that," he said.
Why did she blush? It wasn't like he was serious.
"Come, now," he chided. "It's a very simple question. Will you come with me? Just a simple dinner at The Tea Room?"
The Tea Room was Chapel Hill's priciest eatery, the one place everyone in town had to go at least once in their lives. Even though she'd been born and raised in Chapel Hill, Annabelle had only passed by The Tea Room when shopping on Franklin Street, promising herself she'd have a grand dinner there someday. Now, here was Gaelen Riley tossing the suggestion like he was offering her a quick burger.
And she really wanted to say yes. She'd have wanted to say yes even if the invitation had been for the burger.
"Well? Are you going to make my day, or leave me in loneliness and depression?"
Unbidden, a smile came to her lips as she looked into his eyes.
"Yes?" he asked with a tip of his head, tossing forward a lock of his wheat-gold hair.
Only for a moment did Annabelle think about using her mother as an excuse.
"Wait. Don't decide now, when you're irritated with me." He pulled a business card and a pen from his breast pocket. Scribbling on the back of the card, he said, glancing away from the card to her face, "Here's my cell phone number. If I don't hear from you by six, I'll assume you've decided to give me another chance. I'll pick you up at your mother's house at seven."
Annabelle stared at the card for a moment before reaching for it. Her fingers closed around the very edge. She couldn't believe he made her afraid to let their fingertips touch. Then she made the mistake of glancing up. Gaelen held her eyes and the card tight for just a second. Releasing it with a promising smile, he turned and strolled toward the stairwell.
She watched him go, watched the eyes of all the women in the hall follow him.
"Ms. Tinker?" Dr. Duncan came up behind her in the silent shoes all the staff wore around the hospital. "You may return to your sister's room now. We're finished."
"Thank you," Annabelle answered, fingering the card in her hand. The name was plain in bold black letters on the creamy stock.
The doctor's eyes were fixed on the card, on Gaelen Riley's telephone number. Annabelle slipped the card into her slacks pocket. Dr. Duncan smiled shyly, caught peeking.
"Please be careful what you say to Erin. I think we've made some progress today," she said and turned without waiting for a response, heading down the corridor toward her next patient.
Annabelle glanced at the tiny woman's purposeful progress as she pushed open the door to Erin's room.
"So, what did the Wicked Witch say about me this time?" Erin asked, her lips pursed in a pout.
"That you're certifiably nuts, and we should donate your brain to science since you're not using it."
"Be serious, Annabelle."
"I am serious. She'll be back in fifteen minutes to perform the procedure. You should get your affairs in order. Can I have your Barbie dolls?"
Erin's pout rearranged itself into a sweet smile and a laugh.
"You always could do that to me." She sat up. "So, what did the totally dreamy Dr. Riley want to see you about?"
"What are you talking about? When I came in, he was sitting on the edge of your bed telling you Lucas stories."
"He was only waiting for you to show up. He came up here to talk to you." Erin's eyes sparkled. "I think he likes you."
"He asked me to dinner."
"Really? Well, see?"
"Please, Erin. Think about it. His invitation has nothing at all to do with me. He just wants to find Lucas and he thin
ks I can help him. He'll probably quiz me over the appetizer." She frowned. "Does it seem funny to you that he's apparently not able to find his own brother? Has Lucas said anything to you about problems they're having?"
Erin shook her head. "No. All I've heard from Lucas about his brother is very complimentary. I think Lucas has a bad case of hero-worship for Gaelen."
"Then why would he be afraid of Gaelen finding him? There's more here than brotherly love."
"I don't have any idea. But maybe you can find out on your date." Erin smiled slyly. "So, when is your date?"
"I didn't say I said yes."
Erin flashed a look of disgust. "You're telling me a man who looks like Gaelen Riley asks you to dinner and you're hesitating even a second? Where is he taking you? Provided you get smart and accept, of course."
"The Tea Room."
"You're kidding. You are going?"
Perhaps a little investigation of her own was called for. There was more to this whole situation than met the eye and it was time to put her skills to the test.
"Sure I am."
Chapter Seven
Gaelen stood at the front door of the Tinker residence at seven sharp as promised, looking like an ad out of GQ, a fresh bouquet of daisies in his hand. Peeking from behind the living room curtain, Annabelle went all gooey. How had he known daisies were her favorite?
She let the lacy curtain drop and took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. And she chastised herself for getting all excited about this date. It was the same chastisement she'd flung at herself as she took great pains getting ready, even borrowing the sleeveless black cocktail dress with the scooping neckline from her mother's closet. She hoped it would be dressy enough.
Opening the door slowly enough to not look anxious, but quickly enough to be polite, Annabelle pasted a smile over her nervous jitters.
"Dr. Riley, right on time."
"I try to never keep a lady waiting." His eyes traveled down her body, then back up. His examination, though not leering, left her tingling in its wake. "You are lovely."
She stared for a moment, struck dumb by the simple compliment. "Thank you," she whispered, then rousing some of her backbone, she added with a grin, "You're lovely, too."
He chuckled, the rich, deep sound sending a ripple down her spine.
