Marked for Marriage (8 page)

Maddie turned toward him with blazing eyes. “You go right ahead and do that, and the second you're off the phone, I'll call the police department and file a complaint against you for home invasion and…and—” she lifted her chin in a defiant gesture “—and I might even include sexual harassment in that charge.”

“Which would be a damn lie,” Noah snarled. “Is that what you are, a liar?”

“Not usually, but your pushy attitude just might drive me to do a lot of things I wouldn't ordinarily do. Now, let's get to the bottom line, all right? I believe you've accomplished quite enough in this house for one day. Your uncooperative patient is out of bed and dressed. As any fool could see, if there were more than one in this kitchen with me, I'm fine and functioning under my own steam. In other words, I don't want you hanging around any longer. Are you getting the message?”

Noah was just about to growl an appropriately nasty comeback when Maddie suddenly shrieked, “Fanny! My God, where's Fanny?”

He thought she'd lost the last of her marbles, which he'd been suspecting were already dangerously low in quantity, especially when she hung over the sink to get her face closer to the icy window to see outside. “She'll die in this,” Maddie moaned. “What did Mark do with her? Fanny, Fanny, where are you?”

S
omething akin to panic assaulted Noah's senses. Who or what was “Fanny”? A pet? A child? And was Fanny outside in that raging blizzard?

He went to Maddie's side and tried to see out the same window. There was nothing outside but the density of whites that only a winter storm of this magnitude could produce. Noah glanced at Maddie, who had her good hand curled around the inside edge of the sink and seemed to be holding on for dear life. Her face was deathly pale, and what she was really doing up and dressed struck him like a ten-ton truck.

“You little fake,” he muttered, and moved closer to her, just enough to place his hands on her upper arms. “You'd walk through fire to avoid a trip to the hospital or an exam from me, wouldn't you?” His intention was to support and steer her to a chair, because she looked ready to fall down. The second he touched her she cried out, sounding so much like a wounded animal that he instantly released her and jumped back.

She bent from the waist and laid her forehead on her hand clutching the edge of the sink. Noah couldn't see if she was crying, but she made a pathetic picture all huddled over as she was, and her being so small and desperately in need of help, even if she wouldn't admit it.

He felt an unfamiliar confusion. He couldn't leave her and she wouldn't let him help her.

What should he do?

Anger began gathering in his gut, and with it came a clearing of his mind. Somehow Maddie had tricked Mark and Darcy into believing she was well enough to be left alone. Noah knew that now, because she'd just tried to pull the same stunt with him. Only she'd seen the storm and remembered Fanny, whatever or whomever Fanny was, and Maddie's personal plight had taken a back seat to
that
concern.

Noah was almost afraid to ask about Fanny, but he'd seen that long sleek trailer parked behind Mark's garage, and what if there was a pet in it? A little dog or cat that Maddie had decided would be better off in its own home than in a strange house. That concept really didn't make sense for Noah, but he couldn't let himself think that Fanny might be a person.

He was on to Maddie's dangerous game of pretense now, and it infuriated him as a physician that she would let modesty, resentment and stubborn pride stop her from accepting treatment from him. Yes, Mark should have told her that he'd be dropping by, but…

That point was suddenly clear to Noah, as well. Mark
had
told Maddie. She just didn't remember it! Those damn pain pills! How many had she taken today? A person alone could so easily get off schedule with painkillers and take more of them than had been prescribed. Plus, some people were overly sensitive to pain medication, and a perfectly acceptable dose for one patient could knock another for a loop. That would explain Maddie's slurring of words, her desire to be left alone
so she could sleep and even her physical weakness when she was on her feet.

Noah was pretty certain that he'd figured everything out—except for Fanny's identity. He drew a long breath and felt a tightening in his gut, but he had to ask.

“Maddie?” She slowly straightened her back but didn't look at him. “Maddie,” he repeated from his position behind her, “who's Fanny?”

“My horse,” she said dully.

Noah experienced such enormous relief that his knees got weak. But just for a second, because both he and Maddie couldn't be weak in this crazy situation.

“And you're thinking your horse is where?” he asked calmly, hoping his gentle demeanor would inspire calm in her.

“I…don't know. Wait…I…I think I went outside this morning, and…and…”

That explained the unlocked door, Noah thought. “And what?” he prompted.

“I couldn't…find her.”

“So she's not in Mark's garage or staked out in the yard someplace?”

“No…she's not. There's something…” Maddie let go of the sink and raised her hand to her temple. “I can't seem to think very well, but…I…I have a foggy glimpse of memory about Mark saying something about boarding Fanny.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about. I'm sure if Mark said he was going to board Fanny so you wouldn't have to care for her while he and Darcy were away, then that's what he did.”

Maddie finally turned around, wincing visibly as she did it, apparently forgetting, Noah observed, that she'd gotten dressed to convince him that she was perfectly all right.

“Boarded where?” she asked with a note of panic in her voice.

“Probably a nearby ranch. There are several not too far from town that board horses. Maddie, you have got to lie down again. You look terrible.”

“What every girl wants to hear from a man. But I…I do feel sort of…” Once again she started folding up, and once again Noah rushed forward and caught her before she reached the floor.

“You little fool,” he muttered, picking her up and carrying her from the kitchen. Ignoring the sofa this time, he brought her to a bedroom and laid her on the bed. Rushing around, he got smelling salts from his medical bag and a wet washcloth from the nearest bathroom. Returning, he laid the cloth on her forehead and was just about to wave the vial of ammonium carbonate under her nose when he got a better idea.

Very cautiously he raised the hem of her blouse, saw the bruising on her right side, then did the same with her skirt and scrutinized the continuing bruising all down her hip and thigh. She had darned good reason to wince every time she moved, he thought with loads of sympathy, and then decided that he'd better check for infection while he had the chance. He saw nothing in that regard and he quickly straightened her clothing and then held the vial under her nose.

She came to with a gasp and a cough, and then slapped at his hand. Once she got her breath she demanded to know why she was on her bed and then stated emphatically, “You are not getting me out of my clothes for an examination!”

“That's fine with me.” Noah sat on the edge of the bed right next to her and spoke plainly. “Here's my diagnosis. You ingested at least one too many pain pills today. Do you remember how many you took since waking up this morning?”

She frowned and looked perplexed. “Uh, no.”

“That's what I thought. Okay, you will not have access
to your medication from this moment on. I brought with me what I feel is a better antibiotic for your injuries, and I will administer that along with your pain pills.”

“You most certainly will not! You're not moving in here, you know.”

“You're dead wrong about that, and don't waste your energy arguing. When did you last eat?” He saw the stricken look on her face. “Don't strain your brain. I can see clearly that you're not remembering much of anything. That's all right, that mushy sensation in your head will pretty much wear off by tonight. In the meantime I'm going to fix you something to eat. From the look of the kitchen trash can that greeted me when I first walked in today, I'd hazard a guess that soup is a favorite of yours, so that's what I'll fix for now. You stay here. I'll bring in your comforter, and when the soup's hot I'll bring that in, as well. Rest and try not to worry.” Noah rose and started for the door.

Maddie made no reply, but even with that “mushy sensation” fogging her brain, she knew she would not
stop
worrying until she knew where Mark had taken Fanny.

Darn it, why couldn't she remember anything in its entirety? Surely Mark had told her
where
he was boarding Fanny!

 

Several hours later Noah paced between kitchen and living room. He had opened curtains, drapes and blinds to bare the windows so he could see the storm, which hadn't let up an iota since reaching its peak of ferocity around noon. It worried Noah, and he had phoned the hospital to let personnel know where he could be reached, in case an emergency situation arose and he was needed.

Maddie had eaten a bowl of soup, drunk some herbal tea and then, almost immediately, had fallen into a deep sleep. She worried Noah as much as the storm, possibly more. She would recover, of course. Her injuries, though undoubtedly
painful, were not life threatening. Rather, they didn't
appear
to be, he thought wryly, wishing he had access to whatever notes and X-rays the attending physician had generated at the time of her accident.

At any rate, it was Noah's professional opinion that Maddie should not be left alone, and his third worry was that the hospital would call and he'd
have
to leave her alone. When that concern became dominant, he phoned the hospital again and talked to the head nurse, explained the situation and asked if she knew of an off-duty nurse—either registered or practical—who would come to the house and tend Maddie Kincaid for a few days.

She'd been polite and respectful, but Whitehorn was a small town and there never had been a surplus of nurses just biding their time and hoping for work. “I'm sorry, Dr. Martin, but everyone I know works a very tight schedule. Also, we have the storm to deal with. I've already called in my off-duty nursing staff.”

“Vehicular accidents?” Noah asked.

“And frostbite and some broken bones from slipping on ice. I understand the state patrol has issued a warning for everyone to stay at home. Everyone won't, of course. Folks around here aren't afraid of bad weather, and so the accidents will keep the E.R. busy throughout the blizzard. Sorry I can't help you, Doctor.”

After that conversation, Noah racked his brain for the name of someone—a friend, a neighbor, almost anyone would do—he might phone and ask to come to the house. He didn't miss the irony of the situation. Since moving to Whitehorn he'd avoided casual friendships. Hell, he'd avoided any kind of friendship, preferring to suffer the pain of Felicia's desertion all by himself. Mark Kincaid was an exception, but Noah knew that even though he liked Mark they would never be
close enough to confide their innermost thoughts and feelings to each other.

They'd gotten acquainted at the gym, where they both worked out or, on occasion, played basketball. The thing that Noah liked best about Mark was that he didn't pry. In fact, Mark seemed to sense that Noah didn't want to talk about “life before Whitehorn,” thus never asked.

And so their relationship was one of mutual respect for each other's privacy. Standing at a window and looking out with a serious frown on his face, Noah thought about Mark's wedding. If he'd attended the affair instead of merely sending a gift to the bride with a note of regret because he couldn't be there, would he have met Maddie?

Damn, he knew so little about her! Where she lived, for instance. Obviously, she didn't make her home in Whitehorn, but why didn't she? And why on earth would she be driving a huge truck and pulling a trailer…?
Wait a minute!
That trailer was how she transported Fanny. But transported Fanny from where? Where, precisely, were Maddie's roots? Her home? Okay, so she got hurt at a rodeo, but where was the rodeo, and what caused the accident?

Recalling how upset Maddie had become when she realized that she didn't know at which ranch Mark had boarded Fanny, Noah went to the kitchen phone again. This time he searched the phone book for ranches that boarded horses. There were three listings fairly close to town, and operating under the assumption that Mark wouldn't put too much distance between Maddie and her horse, he wrote those names, numbers and addresses on the pad of paper next to the phone.

A crashing gust of wind actually shook the house, and Noah jumped up from his chair and hurried to the nearest window. He'd thought the storm had already peaked, but it looked even worse outside than it had only minutes ago.

Shaking his head he returned to the phone and picked it up
with the intention of calling ranches until he found the one that had taken in Fanny. Instead of a dial tone, however, all Noah heard was an ominous silence. The phone was dead. His stomach sank some, but all he could really do was hope that the electricity didn't go off, too.

After getting his cell phone from his bag, he began making those calls. Because of the storm there was a great deal of static to contend with, but Noah's second call proved fruitful. Fanny, or Fanchon, as Mark had signed the horse in as, was being boarded at the Braddock ranch—the Braddock Reserve, as the family who'd been buying up land around Whitehorn and beyond for some time now, called its horse and cattle ranch. Noah hadn't personally met any of the Braddocks, but he'd heard the name mentioned many times. Immense wealth was always fodder for gossip in a small town, and apparently, from all reports, the Braddocks were loaded.

Noah wrote “seven miles west of town, county road 34” on the pad, then underlined that, the Braddock name and phone number several times. When Maddie woke up, he would relay Fanny's whereabouts. The information, he figured, would cheer her considerably.

He sat there then, doodled on another sheet of paper and thought about how he'd taken Maddie Kincaid under his wing, so to speak. As a physician he helped people every day, but this was different. What he was doing for Maddie—in spite of the fact that she'd rather be left alone—went far beyond anything he'd done for another human being for a very long time, if ever.

Actually he couldn't remember another circumstance where he'd given so much of himself, so it was entirely possible that he never had. With that in mind, he had to question if he was doing this for Mark or for Maddie.

It was a disruptive, unnerving question, because his friendship with Mark could hardly be described as lifelong
or heartfelt, and, by the same token, he couldn't let himself think that he'd let another woman penetrate his guard and slither into his psyche. Besides, why on earth would he be feeling anything for a woman of Maddie's disagreeable nature? Other than a precautionary strategy to protect himself from her ungrateful wrath, he should be symbolically keeping her at arm's length and viewing her as impersonally as he did all of his patients.