Читать книгу Tempted by the Soldier - Patricia Potter - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

“NOTHING’S BROKEN,” CLINT insisted to the elderly doctor.

“You a doctor?” the man asked.

“No, but...”

“I’ll get my supper a whole lot quicker if you just answer my questions. Leave it to Stephanie to come in after hours,” he groused.

“You know you’re her biggest fan,” Josh Manning said. “She certainly helps your bottom line.”

Doc Bradley muttered something Clint couldn’t hear, but he didn’t think it was gratitude. An older woman in scrubs decorated with tiny smiling elephants wheeled him into a treatment room where the doctor examined Clint’s foot. “I want an X-ray,” he said when he finished. “Janie, my nurse, will take you.”

Ten minutes later, the doctor came into the dark, tiny X-ray room and studied the film. Then he wheeled Clint into a third room. It was small, made smaller by the bookcase full of books and a large file cabinet. Several diplomas decorated the wall, along with a painting of a waterfall.

Doc Bradley pulled a chair next to Clint. “No break, but it’s badly bruised and going to be even more painful tomorrow. Probably worse the next day. Are you taking any medications?”

Clint handed him the pills he always kept near him. The doctor looked at the bottle, then asked, “Do you have your medical records with you?”

“They’re in my duffel and that’s in Stephanie’s truck, but basically I was injured in a car accident. Mild traumatic brain injury, they told me. I have blackouts, usually preceded by headaches.”

“Bad ones, I take it.”

Clint nodded.

“As strong and frequent now as they were just after the injury?”

“Afraid so.”

“Any other injuries?

“Nothing of any importance.”

“Why don’t you let me decide that,” Doc Bradley said.

“Two bullet wounds. Neither hit anything major. Some broken bones after a chopper crash. My knees took a beating at the same time I had the brain injury.”

The doctor nodded and took a paper from the desk. “If you want me to be your doctor—and since I’m the only one in town you don’t have much choice—you can sign that paper giving me permission to obtain your records from your former doctor.”

Clint liked him. No nonsense. Not much bedside manner. He approved. “I do, at least, as long as I’m going to be here. Not sure how long that will be.” He scrawled his signature.

“That’s what Josh told me when he first came here, and I think he’s here for good.”

Clint shrugged. It was the second time he’d heard that, but then, he wasn’t Josh Manning.

“In any event, I’m giving you an anti-inflammatory and some pain medication. Not as strong as the pills you have now. Stay off the foot as much as possible and use ice packs on it. I have a spare pair of crutches. You can bring them back when they’re not needed. I’m available at any time. Just ask Stephanie.” There was a humor in his voice that belied real annoyance.

He wheeled Clint back into his office where Josh Manning waited. “I have free samples of both medications and I’ll be back with the crutches,” he said and disappeared into the examining room.

Manning, who had been sitting on a chair in the reception area, stood.

“It’s just a bruise,” Clint said. “No big deal.”

“Bad enough,” Manning said. “I’m damned sorry about that. You probably want to run for the hills right now. I wanted to do that when I landed in Covenant Falls, even without being stomped by a cow.”

Clint shrugged. “Don’t blame Stephanie. I offered to help. I chalk it down to a new experience. A close encounter of the bovine kind.”

Manning grinned. “I was going to ask you to have supper with my family tonight, but now you probably just want to get to the cabin. There’s plenty of food there, although my invitation is still good. I have to warn you, though, it could be chaotic.”

“Chaotic? That sounds about right today.”

“Well there’s five dogs, one very curious and bright boy who will ask a million questions, and my wife, the mayor, who will try to convince you that Covenant Falls is heaven on earth.”

“And is it?”

“Depends on your viewpoint,” Manning said. “I’m sort of leaning in that direction after a rocky start.”

Stephanie appeared then with a dog, a golden retriever, at her side. She also carried his duffel and his other shoe.

“Sherry?” Clint asked, and the dog’s entire rear wriggled with delight at the sound of her name.

Stephanie’s eyes widened. Perhaps she was surprised he had remembered her dog’s name. In truth, he recalled every word of conversation since she had met him at the bus stop. He stuck out his hand and Sherry sniffed it, then held out a paw.

Clint took the paw and shook it. He’d always liked dogs, but at private schools it was a definite no-no, and in the service, he’d never felt it fair to have one.

Stephanie tilted her head as Sherry stayed close to him. Had she expected the dog to dislike him? He’d obviously made a poor impression on her, and that puzzled him.

“I brought your duffel,” she said. “Josh had planned to meet you and show you the cabin, and so I thought...he could drive you there.”

So, she was dumping him. “I appreciate the ride. It certainly ranks among the most interesting I’ve ever had.”

She gave him one of those rare smiles, but it disappeared almost immediately. “Interesting, huh? I’ll call you the next time I have to roll a cow.”

“Do that,” he challenged.

She turned him to Josh. “I leave him in your hands.”

The doctor returned, holding a pair of crutches and two pill bottles and a business card. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Stephanie said. “Send me the bill. Hardy said he would pay it.”

She started for the door, Sherry at her side, then glanced over her shoulder, smiling. “Thanks for being a good sport. I really am sorry.” Before he could answer, she was out the door.

Josh frowned, then picked up both the duffel and shoe. “Can you manage with the crutches?”

“Sure.”

“What about that dinner?”

Suddenly, Clint was exhausted. His body ached. His mind was fuzzy. He hadn’t slept much in the past two days, and he knew lack of sleep often brought on the headaches. “Can I take a rain check?”

“Sure. I’ll drive you to the cabin. My wife insisted on stocking it with food, including some chili that just needs heating. There’s also a roasted chicken, cold cuts and some sliced veggies. Eve was appalled at my eating habits when I first moved there.”

“Sounds good. Better than good. Please thank her for me.”

“I added a six pack of beer. Are you okay to drink it or...?”

“If I’m not taking medicine for headaches, I’m fine. And I don’t take it unless I feel one coming on. One or two beers is okay.”

Josh nodded. “My Jeep is just outside.”

The ride to the cabin was short. Clint watched carefully as the Jeep continued down what appeared to be the main street.

“That’s Maude’s on the corner,” Josh said. “Best steaks in town. Hell, best steaks in this half of Colorado, and Maude will adopt you if you give her a chance. The city hall is on the left. The police department is there, as well. This street runs into a park that backs the lake. There’s also a combination recreation center and library in the park. The cabin is on the far side of the lake. There’s some good fishing there.” He paused, then added. “You can walk to all of it when your foot is better. In the meantime, I’m a call away.”

Clint wasn’t sure how to respond. He hated being dependent, but right now any place was better than the military hospital where he’d felt a fraud.

Most patients had been wounded in battle; he was there because of a stupid whim. “I want to pay rent for however long I stay,” he said.

Josh was silent as he turned down a road that bordered the lake, then pulled into a driveway shaded by pines. He parked, and Clint struggled to his feet with the crutches and hobbled toward his temporary residence. He had envisioned something small and rough, but this cabin was far more than that. Larger. More...picturesque. A wide screened porch stretched across the front.

A throbbing began in his head. All he wanted was to get inside and lie down. He followed Josh inside the screened-in porch and his new landlord unlocked the door.

He made his way inside. Whoa. Unlike the simple cabin he’d envisioned, he walked into a spacious room anchored by a huge rock fireplace. A large leather sofa and two matching chairs were placed around it, and a small dining room table with four chairs was located next to a set of windows.

“There’s two bedrooms and a bathroom down the hall,” Josh said. “The kitchen is on the left.” He led the way down the hall to a bedroom and placed the duffel on a double bed that was already made.

He looked at Clint with concern. “Are you okay?”

“I will be,” Clint said, the throbbing increasing.

“Do you have a cell phone?”

“Yes.”

“Mind giving me the number?”

Clint did and Josh handed him a card. “Here’s mine. Call me if you need anything.”

The headache was on its way to pounding. He needed a pill. And fast.

“Any rules?” he asked.

“Nope. I have a suggestion, though. Your doctor in Texas said you have blackouts. Since you’re alone here, why don’t you give me a call every morning, any time. I know when I moved here, I didn’t want anything to do with anyone. Only wanted to crawl under a rock. So you just tell me to back off anytime you feel crowded. Okay?”

Clint nodded. “Why don’t you just rent this place?”

“It’s not mine,” he said. “Maybe on paper it is, but it was willed to me by a friend who died in Afghanistan. This is what he would have wanted, a refuge for vets. It was that for me. And that’s probably the last time I’ll talk about it.”

“I want to pay something.”

“I won’t take money, but you can build a dock down on the lake. I planned to do it but ran out of time.”

The headache was getting worse. “I can do that.”

Josh gave him a searching look. “Can I do anything before I leave?”

“No, thanks.”

“Call me or Doc Bradley if you need anything. Don’t forget about the food in the fridge.” After Josh left, Clint used the crutches to get to the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water and swallowed a pill. He hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, but he didn’t think he could eat anything now. Using only one crutch so he could carry the glass of water, he made his way to the bedroom and sat down on the bed. He fought the headache by reviewing the day. The ups and downs. The downs were definitely the bus ride and being kicked by a cow. The up was Stephanie, although she obviously didn’t consider him an “up.”

Was that part of the attraction? He was rarely rebuffed by women, and he definitely had been this afternoon. She had bristled almost immediately at the bus stop. Her gentleness with the cow and easy friendliness with the rancher contrasted with her brusque manner with him. Puzzling, especially since he’d liked her instantly. Maybe it was her slow, reluctant smile. Or the fire he suspected lay under the icy exterior.

Just as well she didn’t return the interest. He sure as hell wasn’t ready for a heavy-duty involvement. He had damn few assets. A vanished career, a brain that didn’t work right, a near-empty bank account and now a bruised foot...

He closed his eyes. He was dead-tired physically. He’d had damned little sleep since he’d left the hospital yesterday. But then again, he’d gone days without sleep as a chopper pilot...

The sun danced and shimmered on the pavement ahead. His foot lightened on the pedal as the road took a turn and mounted an incline. An old battered truck appeared from nowhere, turning into... He slammed on the brakes...

He woke suddenly. The end of the nightmare was always the same. It was the last thing he remembered before waking up days later in the hospital. One moment that changed his life. That haunted him.

For several seconds, Clint couldn’t remember where he was. He was in a strange room in a strange house in a strange town. The glowing numbers on the clock next to the bed told him it was three thirty in the morning. He had slept longer than usual.

He reached around in the dark and turned on the bedside lamp. He still wore yesterday’s clothes. The shirt still smelled of cow. The pounding headache was a memory, but a dullness remained.

Had yesterday really happened? The weird afternoon. The pretty veterinarian who intrigued him. Was it real? Or another of the crazy dreams that plagued him since the accident. The pain in his right foot told him it was, indeed, real.

It still throbbed, but he was damned thirsty and the water glass next to the clock was empty. He was also ravenous. He placed his good foot on the floor, then the injured one. He could put some weight on it now, but he had learned recently that caution was a good thing.

Clint grabbed the crutch and hobbled out of the bedroom and down the hall, turning on lights as he went. He entered the kitchen and looked in the fridge.

It was full as promised: a whole roasted chicken on a plate, a casserole dish probably filled with the chili, packages of cheese and ham, a quart of milk and veggies. A loaf of bread sat on the counter.

He opted for a ham and cheese sandwich, which was easier to handle than a whole chicken. With one hand, he made a fat sandwich and took it to a chair in the living room, then returned for a glass of milk.

He surveyed the cabin. He hadn’t noticed everything yesterday afternoon. He’d been too worried that the headache would spiral into a blackout. But he felt better now, and he looked around with interest. The walls were newly painted—a soft sand shade—and the wood floor was partly covered with a colorful Indian rug. Light from the moon filtered through the windows.

Clint hobbled to a window and peered out. There was enough light to see a backyard with a large stone barbecue pit, and behind that the lot steepened into woods.

Loneliness hit him like a sledgehammer. He’d lost his friends, his community, even his identity. He was used to being in a crowd, the life of any party. At the base, he’d shared a house with three other pilots, and in Afghanistan, he’d shared a large tent. He was used to noise, people coming and going, laughter, clowning, sharing harrowing stories, which made them less painful.

After learning he probably wouldn’t fly again, certainly not in the near future, he had assessed possibilities. He was good at mechanics. He had accrued credits at the University of Maryland in computer engineering, although he was about twenty hours short of a degree. People generally liked him. He had learned to compensate for the loneliness and rejection he’d felt as a boy by being gregarious. He wasn’t sure whether it was learned or natural, but he was usually comfortable with others, and they with him.

Dr. Stephanie Phillips was an exception. He pictured her in his mind: her deep blue eyes and copper hair tied back, the high cheekbones and full mouth. And grace. Despite her height, or maybe because of it, she moved with the grace of an athlete. She was a natural beauty who seemed totally unaware of it. Or even contemptuous of it.

He thought about looking her up on his laptop to see what he might find, then realized it wasn’t with him. He rarely forgot it, but he’d been distracted and left it tucked next to his seat in the van.

A good excuse to call her tomorrow.