Читать книгу Doctor, Darling - Jo Leigh - Страница 11

Conner laughed. It was a joke. A big old practical joke, maybe for one of those silly television shows. He waited for the judge to smile, for the gallery to join in with applause. But his was the only voice. He turned to the crowd, and his laughter died. They were all staring at him, anticipation and excitement making them lean forward, making their eyes wide and a little frightening.

He turned back to the bench. “I’m sorry. I thought you said—”

“I’ll repeat it for you. Instead of jail and a fine, you may escort Gillian Bates to a dinner dance.”

He stared at the woman as he grappled with what he was hearing. He was being sentenced to a date? Impossible. Completely ridiculous. Quite possibly illegal. But it couldn’t be serious. “No,” he said, taking a step toward the judge. “Really, what are my options?”

The judge looked at him soberly. “There are some conditions to the community service,” she said as if this performance was as real as rain. “You’ll need to ask her out at least once before the dance. And you must let her think it’s all your own idea. If she discovers it’s part of your sentence, it’s an automatic jail term. If you don’t succeed in escorting her to the dance, it’s an automatic jail term. And finally, you must leave her kindly and you must wait at least twenty-four hours after the dance has ended.”

“You can’t do that,” he said. “You can’t force me to date someone.”

“Oh, but I can, sir. I can, and I am.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” the judge interrupted sternly. “Make your decision, Dr. Malloy. Jail or a dinner dance with a very nice girl.”

He knew he was awake. This didn’t feel like any dream he’d ever had. “Your Honor, I’m an attending physician at Texas Children’s Hospital in Houston, and I—”

“And you’re on vacation.”

Damn. How could she know that? “Yes, but I have other obligations and—”

“And you’ll have to find another way to meet those obligations. You’ve brought this on yourself.”

“But all I did was—”

“All you did was act crudely and in a vulgar manner in front of very vulnerable ears, Dr. Malloy.”

He glanced behind him once more and was met with eager grins. The woman from the bakery. The woman from the first doorway. Even the sheriff. They were all smiling, urging him silently to do it. To say yes. What he couldn’t understand was why? Why him. Why a date? What the hell was going on?

“Dr. Malloy?”

He turned back. The simplest thing to do was agree, then let Dan fix it. Let Dan expose this insane town with its insane judge. “All right, Your Honor,” he said softly. “I’ll do the community service.”

Now came the applause. The whole room burst with it. Even the judge smiled. Everyone seemed as pleased as punch. But he planned on taking each of them to court. To a real court. Not here in Wacko Land.

The judge banged her gavel a few times, and the room grew silent once more. She’d lost her smile. “Do you understand the full extent of your community service?”

“I think so.”

“Please repeat it for the record.”

He swallowed, suddenly aware that he really needed a glass of water. “I have to take this Gillian Bates to a dinner dance,” he said. “But I have to ask her out at least once before that. I can’t let her know this is all some twisted plot and I can’t leave until at least twenty-four hours after the dance.”

The judge nodded. “Except for the creative description in the middle, that’s fine. Remember, she’s not to know anything about this.” Then she turned her attention to the gallery. “Not one slipup, people. This one has to go off without a hitch. We owe that to Gillian.”

She stood up, and the whole room followed suit. Conner felt a hand at his elbow. It was Sheriff Dick Tracy, ready to take him downstairs. He led him down the aisle where several people patted him on the back and one person pinched his behind. He whipped around to see who it was, but no one looked the least bit guilty. Then they got to the exit, and headed down the stairs.

When they reached his cell, he saw that his clothes had been neatly folded on the cot. That his shaving kit had been retrieved from the bathroom. He grabbed them, anxious to get the hell out of there.

The sheriff moved into the doorway, forcing him to stop. “Listen here, Doc. I know you think this is crazy, but you’ll see. You just do like the judge says and everything will turn out fine.”

Conner nodded impatiently.

“And, Doc? Don’t even think about leaving town. We know where you live. Where you work. It’ll be hard on you, you understand?”

Conner nodded again.

“I’ll see you around, Doc.” The sheriff moved out of his way.

Conner stopped again just before he got to the exit. “Sheriff?”

“Yes?”

“How am I supposed to meet her? Gillian Bates, I mean?”

“She teaches kindergarten at the school on Fourth. And she lives on Hickory Street. Thursday night she runs a book club over at the library, so you might try there.”

Conner didn’t thank him. He just walked out into the sunshine and into what looked like an ordinary day in an ordinary town. But he knew better.

He could barely begin to imagine Gillian Bates. What kind of woman needed a court order to find a date? He shuddered, then headed down the street to his car.

“WHAT DOES THE COW SAY?” Gillian asked.

“Mooooo!” replied nine five-year-olds.

“And what does the lamb say?”

“Baaaaa!”

“And what do we say when someone gives us a present?”

“Thank you!”

“Very nice, boys and girls.” She smiled, then sneaked a glance at the big clock over the chalkboard. Thirty minutes to go. Thank goodness.

Normally, her days went by too fast, but today had inched along at a snail’s pace. Teddy had waited too long to visit the rest room, Vicky had eaten two crayons and Max had let the class hamster out of its cage, which led to unbridled hysteria and a chase that lasted all through nap time.

“Okay, kids. Cleanup time!”

The children got up off the big mat in the middle of the classroom and headed in nine directions. A few of them—Zeke, Molly and Eli—actually picked up toys and put them on the shelves at the back of the room. But Jody and Luke decided to fight over a stuffed panda bear, so Gillian had to break that up. After quite a few tears and sniffles, she got them to shake hands and say they were sorry. Then, just as Gillian bent to pick up the prized panda, Sandy Goodwin tripped and spilled the entire tray of watercolor paints down Gillian’s back. She screeched and stood up so fast that she knocked the tray out of Sandy’s hand. It went flying, spraying the remains of the paint all over the front of her dress.

Sandy burst into tears. Gillian wanted to do the same, but instead, she gamely smiled, grabbed a roll of paper towels and started drying herself off. “It’s okay, honey,” she said. “Accidents happen.”

“But I didn’t mean to!” Sandy said between hiccups.

“I know. It’s okay. Now you just go get your lunch box. Your brother will be here in twenty minutes to walk you home.”

Sandy wiped her nose with the back of her arm, then slouched toward the coatroom.

“Ewww. What’s that on your hair?”

Gillian turned to see Eli looking at her, horrified at her disheveled appearance. Eli had a thing about messes. He didn’t like them. Except for his room, of course. That was ground zero. “You stay here,” she said. As she continued to wipe the paint off her clothing, she tapped on the window that separated her classroom from the one next door. Janice Epps, the second-grade teacher, was writing on the blackboard. Gillian tapped again. Finally, Janice heard her and came to the small window as Gillian pushed it open.

“What happened?” she asked, looking Gillian over.

“Kindergarten.”

Janice nodded.

“Can you help?”

Janice nodded again. “Give me ten minutes to finish up here. Then I’ll make sure your kids are taken care of.”

“You’re a peach.”

“You’re a mess.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Janice smiled, then went back to her class.

Gillian turned slowly and looked at her charges. The kids were busy, not necessarily doing what they were supposed to, but that wasn’t unusual. The attention span of a five-year-old is about the length of a Dr. Seuss story—a short one. It was a time of exploration and wonder, of testing and reaching. And tripping and falling. She took her responsibility seriously. She wasn’t just a babysitter. She was helping to mold lives, to build strong foundations in those little bodies. Only sometimes, such as when wet paint dripped down the small of her back, she wondered if she hadn’t taken the easy way out. What if she had stayed in California? What if…? Oh, what if she’d been daring, bold, instead of the scared little rabbit she’d become?

At least she was with Eli all day, but that was only for a few more months. Next term, he’d be with another teacher. The first of a hundred steps away that he’d take on his journey toward adulthood.

She heard a sharp cry and saw Teddy pulling Jody’s hair. Her reverie ended as she went to soothe their feelings.

THE LIBRARY WAS LARGE for a town as small as Miller’s Landing. It smelled like libraries all over the country, slightly musty, but clean, too, with a hint of lemon. Conner had spent so much of his life in libraries that even in this burg from hell, he felt welcome here.

He walked past the circulation desk toward the adult section on the right. New hardback books with shiny covers were displayed on two racks, then he came to the stacks. He let his hand brush the books as he wandered. After that he found a lounge area with comfortable chairs, good lighting, long tables in the middle, and in the back, desks for students. A group had gathered around one of the long tables. He stayed where he was, almost hidden, as he tried to figure out which of the women was Gillian Bates.

He recognized several people from the street or courtroom, so they were eliminated right off. His gaze fell on a woman with red hair. It was long and a little straggly. She was older than him by at least ten years, and her glasses were so thick her eyes seemed too large for her face. But, he supposed, she seemed pleasant enough.

Next to her was another woman he’d never seen before. Blond, pale, on the large side, she had her knitting on the table, and he watched her fingers move in a rhythmic whirl as she transformed the turquoise wool into something he couldn’t make out. She laughed, raising her head, and he liked the sound of it.

The rest of the strangers were men, so it was either the redhead or the blonde. He wasn’t particular. Neither of them was half as bad as he’d expected. But he didn’t make his move yet.

The book of the day appeared to be Smilla’s Sense of Snow by Hoeg. Hmm. He’d read that a few years ago when it had been on the bestseller lists. He’d liked it a lot although he didn’t remember all the details. But it was something. A common ground he could begin with. He said a silent thanks to the Book-Of-The-Month Club, then got ready to face the music.

He approached the long table in a circuitous route, passing Fiction G–J on his right and a magazine display rack on his left. Just as he was about to leave his cover, he heard the blonde say, “Did any of you get a good look?”

“I did.” The woman he recognized from that very first doorway leaned in, putting both elbows on the table. “He’s a looker, that’s for sure. Dark hair, wide shoulders. A good mouth, too. Strong teeth. And a doctor to boot.”

“But what about the rest of him?” the blonde asked.

“If you’re talking about his hind end, Shirley, that was mighty fine, too.”

Conner blushed. He knew they were talking about him, and it made him damned uncomfortable. It could have been worse, he supposed. The woman could have said he was as ugly as sin with the hind end of a donkey. Even so, he felt embarrassed. He usually didn’t mind being the center of attention, but this…this was so peculiar he didn’t know what to make of it. Well, at least he knew who Gillian Bates was.

His gaze went back to the redhead. She was fishing for something in her purse, which was remarkably large. After a moment, she pulled out a magazine. Cat Fancy. That was okay. He liked cats. No allergies.

Her hand went back into the bag and this time she brought out a little blue bottle. He’d seen one like it before. It was a marker, the kind used at bingo games. Still, no problem. Bingo was fine by him. It was probably real popular in this neck of the woods.

On the third foray, she brought out something small—a book of matches. Fascinated, he watched as she flipped it open, brought it to her mouth and started cleaning her teeth.

He winced. It wasn’t a pleasant sight although no one else at the table seemed to mind. And it really wasn’t a big deal. So she had a quirk. It wasn’t as if he had to marry her or anything. Just a couple of dates, which he’d end early, and then that was that. He’d go on his merry way and then sue the pants off Judge Larson. That made him feel better.

After running a hand through his hair, he stepped out into the reading area, heading straight for Gillian Bates. He knew they’d spotted him when all conversation came to a jarring halt. Seven pairs of eyes latched onto him, including Gillian’s. Her right brow went up as she looked him over from head to toe and then back again. She didn’t seem displeased, but then she wasn’t pumping her arm and shouting “Yes!” either.

He reached the table. The scent of aftershave and bourbon hit him squarely. One of the men, the one wearing the blue suspenders, snorted.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” Conner said. “But I saw you were all reading Smilla’s Sense of Snow and I wondered if I might join you?”

“Don’t see why not,” Suspenders said. “Group’s open to the public. Pull up a chair.”

He did, making sure to smile and act harmless, choosing the chair next to Gillian’s. He gave her a friendly nod. “Thank you.”

She shrugged noncommittally. “Suit yourself.” Then she went back to using the matchbook as a toothpick.

“I’m Conner Malloy,” he said, facing her, although he looked at the others briefly. “I’m new here. Just visiting for a week or so.”

“Yeah?” Gillian asked. He supposed she could sound less interested, but he couldn’t see how.

“Yes,” he said. “I’ve come on a research trip. Your Mr. Johnson has some medical antiques that have captured my interest.”

“Why? You like to operate with old tools?”

He broadened his grin. “No. But I am interested in medical history. I’m writing a book about it.”

“Where are you from, Dr. Malloy?” the blonde asked, her fingers still flying.

As if she didn’t know. “Houston.”

“Y’all are just in time for the big parade next Sunday.”

“Parade?”

“Haven’t you heard?” she asked, her gaze on her knitting. “Gillian Bates saved a little boy’s life just last week. He was chokin’ and she just squeezed him and he spit the toy truck right on out. The boy was blue, they say. Two hairs from gone over.”

“That’s very impressive,” he said, nodding again at Gillian. “That Heimlich maneuver can be tricky. I’m glad to know it worked out so well.”

“Yep,” the blonde said. “She’s a real live heroine, and we’re givin’ her a dinner dance and a parade to mark it.”

“Sounds exciting,” he said. “Like something I shouldn’t miss.”

Gillian looked at him funny as he leaned in toward her.

“Of course I don’t know anyone here,” he said, trying not to scare her. “But maybe you don’t have an escort yet?”

Her eyes practically popped out of her head. “Me?”

He nodded. “I noticed you like bingo,” he said, racking his brain for something logical to say. “And cats.”

“That I do,” she said, and he thought she might be smiling, but he couldn’t be sure.

“I admire cats,” he said. “And I used to play bingo when I was at summer camp.”

“I see,” she said. “So that’s why you want to take me to the dinner dance?”

His own smile faltered a little. “Well, sure. Why not?”

“Uh, Doc,” the blonde said, her smile wide enough to show her dental work, “you—”

“Hush up, Shirley. I’m trying to think.”

“But—”

“Shhh,” Suspenders hissed. He was grinning, too.

Gillian looked around the table, then back at him. “Why not, Doc? I don’t have any prior commitments.”

He sighed his relief. One down, and now he didn’t even have to take her out on a date first. With any luck, he wouldn’t even have to see her until the dance.

Gillian looked up, past his head, to something behind him. He turned to face a beautiful young woman. She had long blond hair, big blue eyes that gleamed with humor, and a lovely pink mouth turned up into a bright smile.

“Hello,” he said as his gaze moved down in a quick once-over. The rest of her was as attractive as her face.

“Hello,” she said in a voice that made him think of spun sugar.

“This here’s Doc Malloy,” the blonde said. “He’s coming to the dinner dance.”

“So I heard,” the woman said. “That’s lovely.”

“He’s my date,” Gillian announced.

“I heard that, too. That’s wonderful. I know you’ll both have a terrific time.” Then she held her hand out to him, and he saw her fingernails were painted pink. “I’m Gillian Bates,” she said.