shoulder briefly, and something akin to regret flickered inMickey’s faded blue eyes. “There’s no agenda here, Cousin. I wouldn’t have asked you to come back if I had another choice. And I wouldn’t make you stay in this house if there was someplace better. But there isn’t, unless you want to stay at Churchill’s mansion.”
“No,” Dale said flatly, staring up at the house. “No, this is fine.” He dipped a hand into his pocket, and Tansy saw his fingers work. It was a habit he never seemed aware of. She’d come close to searching his pockets once, to find out what sort of talisman he carried, but she’d stopped herself. That was her mother’s game, not hers.
Mickey glanced at his watch and jerked his head toward the sagging porch. “Go on in and get showered and changed. My wife, Libby, left you some basics—towels, clothes, a few odds and ends. Our doctor, Dr. Hazel, will meet you at the motel to go over the patients when you’re ready.”
As Mickey backed the jeep down the narrow trail, Tansy’s confusion and anger tumbled together in a righteous buzz. Still feeling Dale’s touch on her flesh, and hating the frigid control he used like a shield, she rounded on him. “What the hell is—”
“Later,” he interrupted with a short, chopping motion of his hand and a hard look in his eye that sent her back a step. “I’ll explain later.” He paused, and his eyes softened into something more familiar. Something she almost understood. Something that tugged at her and made her wish things were different. “Let’s go inside and get warmed up. I want tohave a look at that bump on your head, too. You may need a stitch.”
“It’s fine. And if I needed a stitch, I’d do it myself,” she replied, feeling the adrenaline and the fear, the cold and the confusion, all catching up to her at once. “Your sutures are lousy. And don’t think you’re getting out of an explanation, Metcalf.”
His eyes softened further, though something dangerous still lurked at the back. “Atta girl. Come on.”
He led her up the porch. A hollowed-out shingle near the scratched brass mailbox yielded a key that slipped easily into the simple lock. The faded plaque beside the door contained a single word.
Metcalf.
As she passed through the door into a bare hallway, she murmured, “Welcome home, Dale.”
She got a pithy curse in reply. For some reason, it made her smile. But when she turned, she found him watching her with cold, angry eyes.
“This isn’t a joke, Tansy. You don’t belong here. There are things going on that you have no part of, and I don’t want you hurt.”
Though his words and expression were hard, she couldn’t help the quick lift of her heart. He cared what happened to her. The hot, wanting pulse returned. “Oh? I assumed you didn’t want me along because of what happened between us.”
Emotion, or maybe desire, flared hot in his eyes, then iced as quickly as it had sparked. “Don’t fool yourself. There is no ‘us’ anymore.” He turned awayand toed a pile of towels and clothes near the staircase. “The shower’s the second door on the right. The water takes a few minutes to warm up.”
Then he walked away, leaving only an echo of footsteps on dry floorboards to mark his presence. Tansy dropped her salty, aching face into her hands.
That was what she’d wanted. No regrets, no hard feelings. Nothing between them. He hadn’t been able to give her what she needed, and they’d parted ways. Simple, right?
But there was nothing simple about the ache in her heart. There was nothing simple about the landing gear ripping off, or about an outbreak that was too deadly, too virulent to be shellfish poisoning.
And worst of all, there was nothing simple about the man she’d once thought herself in love with. The playboy doctor who’d looked like a leading actor among extras in the Tehru clinics, and instead had turned out to be…what? A lobsterman’s son? The prodigal
“No,” Dale said flatly, staring up at the house. “No, this is fine.” He dipped a hand into his pocket, and Tansy saw his fingers work. It was a habit he never seemed aware of. She’d come close to searching his pockets once, to find out what sort of talisman he carried, but she’d stopped herself. That was her mother’s game, not hers.
Mickey glanced at his watch and jerked his head toward the sagging porch. “Go on in and get showered and changed. My wife, Libby, left you some basics—towels, clothes, a few odds and ends. Our doctor, Dr. Hazel, will meet you at the motel to go over the patients when you’re ready.”
As Mickey backed the jeep down the narrow trail, Tansy’s confusion and anger tumbled together in a righteous buzz. Still feeling Dale’s touch on her flesh, and hating the frigid control he used like a shield, she rounded on him. “What the hell is—”
“Later,” he interrupted with a short, chopping motion of his hand and a hard look in his eye that sent her back a step. “I’ll explain later.” He paused, and his eyes softened into something more familiar. Something she almost understood. Something that tugged at her and made her wish things were different. “Let’s go inside and get warmed up. I want tohave a look at that bump on your head, too. You may need a stitch.”
“It’s fine. And if I needed a stitch, I’d do it myself,” she replied, feeling the adrenaline and the fear, the cold and the confusion, all catching up to her at once. “Your sutures are lousy. And don’t think you’re getting out of an explanation, Metcalf.”
His eyes softened further, though something dangerous still lurked at the back. “Atta girl. Come on.”
He led her up the porch. A hollowed-out shingle near the scratched brass mailbox yielded a key that slipped easily into the simple lock. The faded plaque beside the door contained a single word.
Metcalf.
As she passed through the door into a bare hallway, she murmured, “Welcome home, Dale.”
She got a pithy curse in reply. For some reason, it made her smile. But when she turned, she found him watching her with cold, angry eyes.
“This isn’t a joke, Tansy. You don’t belong here. There are things going on that you have no part of, and I don’t want you hurt.”
Though his words and expression were hard, she couldn’t help the quick lift of her heart. He cared what happened to her. The hot, wanting pulse returned. “Oh? I assumed you didn’t want me along because of what happened between us.”
Emotion, or maybe desire, flared hot in his eyes, then iced as quickly as it had sparked. “Don’t fool yourself. There is no ‘us’ anymore.” He turned awayand toed a pile of towels and clothes near the staircase. “The shower’s the second door on the right. The water takes a few minutes to warm up.”
Then he walked away, leaving only an echo of footsteps on dry floorboards to mark his presence. Tansy dropped her salty, aching face into her hands.
That was what she’d wanted. No regrets, no hard feelings. Nothing between them. He hadn’t been able to give her what she needed, and they’d parted ways. Simple, right?
But there was nothing simple about the ache in her heart. There was nothing simple about the landing gear ripping off, or about an outbreak that was too deadly, too virulent to be shellfish poisoning.
And worst of all, there was nothing simple about the man she’d once thought herself in love with. The playboy doctor who’d looked like a leading actor among extras in the Tehru clinics, and instead had turned out to be…what? A lobsterman’s son? The prodigal
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