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Authors: J. D. Faver

Tags: #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Western, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense, #Westerns

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BOOK: The Doctor's Choice
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“No
, Delta Ruth.” The tallest of the trio spoke firmly. “I know you and Silky were friends, but actually, I was her best friend.” She tucked a foil wrapped bundle under her arm and unwound her scarf. “I’m Cora Lee Ferguson. I play the organ at the church. Silky and I went way back, you know?”

“Oh, no
, I didn’t know,” Cami managed to get in, as Cora Lee pushed the bundle toward her. She juggled her unwieldy armload while both ladies continued to shed their outerwear.

“And I am Alma Jo Tooley.” The
woman was thin with a fine bone structure.

Cami thought she must have be
en quite a beauty in her youth.

Alma Jo
smiled at her in apparent delight. “I’m afraid these two are deluding themselves, dear, because I was Silky’s oldest and dearest friend. We were friends from the first day of school back in the old wooden schoolhouse that burned down.” She spoke as though Cami should remember this event.

“Oh, I
ah. . . I’m sure. It’s nice to meet you ladies. Won’t you come into the parlor?” She looked questioningly at the items in her hands.


My dear, that is my ranch chicken casserole. I’m famous for it around here.” Delta Ruth giggled as she pointed to the foil wrapped dish in Cami’s arms. “I hope you like it.”

“Well how nice of you. Thank you.”
She neglected to say that she was flying back to Houston tomorrow and couldn’t put away this mound of food in a month’s time. Hoping that T-Bone and Frank would be hungry, she turned to lead the women into Silky’s antique and bric-a-brac crammed parlor.

“I made a loaf of my home-made bread
for you. I always take the blue ribbon for my yeast breads.” Cora Lee colored slightly.

Cami expressed her appreciation as Alma Jo held out yet another foil topped dish.

“This is my peach cobbler. I whipped it up for you from the peaches I put up last summer. I must admit that I always take the top honors around here for my canned goods and preserves.”

“Top honors?”
she asked.

“The county fair and rodeo in the spring.
It’s about the biggest thing around here. You’ll see.” Alma Jo helped her transport the food into the kitchen.

Cami plac
ed the casserole and bread on top of the range to keep it from the inquisitive cat. “I won’t be staying long. I’ve got another year to complete my fellowship.”

She took the cobbler from Alma Jo and placed it alongside the other items.

Alma Jo’s eyes opened wide. “Are you sure? I could swear Silky said she wanted you to have the ranch.” She tilted her head to one side and placed a finger to her cheek, pantomiming her confusion.

“I guess I’ll find that out tomorrow,” Cami said. “That’s when the lawyer reads the will.” She started the coffeemaker.

Returning to the parlor, she found the other ladies comfortably seated, having helped themselves to Aunt Silky’s sherry. They were sipping from tiny cut-crystal cordials.

Delta Ruth refilled her drink from the sparkling
crystal decanter. “This is for medicinal purposes, you understand.”

“Yes,” Cora Lee said, nodding her head wisely. “I’m sure you agree, being a doctor and all. A wee nip will keep a body from taking a cold.”

“Ah, yes,” Cami agreed. “I’ve heard that, too. I think it was from Aunt Silky.”

Alma Jo accepted a sherry from Delta Ruth, who had taken on the role of hostess. “Won’t you have one, dear?”

“I’ll wait for the coffee,” she said.

“What do you plan to do with the ranch?” Cora Lee asked. “You know, Silky wanted it to stay in the family?”

“Well, no,” Cami said. “Aunt Silky never discussed her wishes with me. I wasn’t raised on a ranch and I wouldn’t have any idea what to do with it. I suppose the lawyer, Mr. Ryan, may know someone who could purchase all this land.”

The three elderly women exchanged knowing looks as they sipped their sherry.
Delta Ruth’s lips pursed.

Cami shifted uncomfortably on the stiffly upholstered chair. “I get the impression you’re not telling me
something.” She looked expectantly from one to another.

“Well, she’ll find
out soon enough,” Alma Jo said.

“That big Kincaid ranching outfit was trying to buy Moonshadows from Silky. She
’d get so mad when that fellow kept coming over. She said she’d just like to have shot him where he stood.”

“She didn’t want to sell?” Cami
shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

“No she did not!” Cora Lee said emphatically.

“Didn’t they offer her enough for it?”

Delta Ruth rolled her eyes to the ceiling as though considering. “I believe their offer was very generous.” She turned to Cami with a shrug. “But Silky wouldn’t sell at any price. She loved every fence post, cow and tumbleweed on her place.”

Alma Jo wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and took another sip of her sherry. “Silky was raised in this house. Your great-grandfather built it for his bride. He brought her west from Saint Louis. She was a city gal too.”

“I—I see
.” Cami reconsidered pouring a glass of sherry for herself.

“Silky told me the Kincaid Corporation was
playing dirty tricks on her,” Delta Ruth said.

“What do you
mean dirty tricks?” A tingle of apprehension stirred at the nape of Cami’s neck. She sometimes felt this tingle when she walked to her car after a late shift at the hospital. She called it her premonition tingle. Heeding her fears she always asked the guard to walk her to her vehicle.

“Oh, I believe there was some mischief with the stock
tanks and then there was the time some fence posts were pulled out.” Alma Jo stared intently at the decanter but turned her gaze to Cami as she smiled brightly. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Breckenridge will explain it all. He won’t let the land-grabbers intimidate you.” She tossed down the sherry.

“He is a truly nice boy,” Cora Lee agreed. “His
ranch adjoins Silky’s property. He took over when his father became too ill to manage it all.”

The ladies chatter blended together in a cacophony of voices, reverberating off the high ceiling and echoing back down on Cami; drowning her with babble.

Delta Ruth set her glass on the table with a clink. “Breck’s father was afraid he might have big ideas when he graduated from law school but, sure enough, he came right back here and set up his little office in town. Mostly, he just takes care of his ranch and everyone’s legal needs here in Langston.”

“Nice boy,” Alma Jo echoed.
“And single,” she added brightly. “He’s never been married. You’re single, aren’t you?”


Yes.” She felt momentarily confused. “Why do you ask?”

“Because, my dear. You’re not getting any younger and you don’t want to wait while all the good ones get snapped up. Not like Silky.” Cora Lee raised her eyebrows and made c
lucking noises with her tongue.

“By the way,” Delta Ruth asked, “How old are you?”

“I’ll be twenty-eight in April.” Cami rose from the hard chair. “Is my age a factor?”

“Well, dear,” Delta Ruth said. “I do believe Breck is in his
early thirties. You know, you could do worse. He’s very handsome and well-to-do.”

“And such a nice boy,” Cora Lee said again.

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

By the time the three ladies departed, they were a little tipsy. Over Cami’s protests, Cora Lee insisted that she was perfectly capable of driving them the few miles back to town.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang to signal the next visitor. Before the afternoon was over, the dining room table was laden with gifts of food and the
polished oak floor in the entryway was tracked with mud and slush.

Cami mopped the entrance with a damp mop and dried it with an old towel from Aunt Silky’s rag bag.
She felt detached, as though in a dream state. Doing normal tasks helped her to reconnect when her emotions were on overload. The disconnect feature was her protection when things got too hectic in the emergency room, or when she lost a patient. Some sort of auto-pilot took over and walked her through the tough spots.

She
poured the dregs from the coffee pot down the drain, reflecting on the strange conversation with Delta Ruth, Alma Jo and Cora Lee earlier. She was curious about the Kincaid operation and Silky’s aversion to it.

“Three weird sisters,” she said, recalling the three witches from
Shakespeare’s Macbeth.

Shadow perked up his ears, cocking his head to one
side.

“What’s the drill around here, boy? Did Aunt Silky take you for a walk or just let you out?” As if in response to her question, he walked to the back door and whined softly. “Okay, but please come back.
My clothes aren’t warm enough for me to go out looking for you.” She opened the door a crack, shivering as the icy wind swirled around the kitchen. The silky black muzzle poked into the opening and pushed it wide enough for a swift exit.

Cami helped herself to a portion of the chicken casserole and a slice of
homemade bread. She ate standing at the counter because she couldn’t bear to sit at Aunt Silky’s polished cherry dining room table all by herself. The food was tasty in spite of her melancholy. She took a few bites of the cobbler with a tablespoon, then covered the food and placed it in the refrigerator. She surveyed the banquet laden table and did her best to store the food appropriately.

In a few minutes she heard a soft whine and opened the door for the damp dog. He trotted to a closet and looked back at her expectantly.

“What do you want, Shadow? What’s in there?” She opened the door and he pulled a stained towel out from under the shelves, laying it by her feet.

“Okay, I get the hint.” Dropping to her knees she dried the dog with the towel. “Aunt Silky sure did spoil you and that hairball, didn’t she?” Giving the dog’s neck a final scratch, she tossed the towel back into the closet and washed her hands, reflecting that these pets had been Silky’s family. The view out the window had changed from a few fluttering flakes to gray blowing sleet.

“Hey, Aunt Silky. Is this what you always called ‘God’s Country’?”

She smiled recalling Silky’s devotion to this rough terrain. When she was a child, Silky had ridden with her to watch a summer sunset from a hilltop. Enjoying the colorful horizon from horseback, Silky had said that it looked like an artist’s oil palette smeared across the sky.

Her
smile froze as she heard her own young voice saying,
“Aunt Silky, this is the most beautiful place in the world. I could stay here forever.”
A clutch of pain clawed at her throat. Had she led Aunt Silky to believe that she wanted to live on this ranch? She swallowed hard.

Oh, that
’s silly
. She and Silky had many long talks about Cami’s lifelong goal of becoming a doctor. She reached out a finger and traced a squiggly line on the frosted window pane. But, had they ever discussed where she would set up practice? She shook her head, unconsciously issuing a wordless denial.

Cami lit a fire in the fireplace and stretched herself onto a long sofa. Flipping a crocheted afghan over her legs, she stared at the flickering tongues of flame licking at the kindling. The cat leapt softly onto the couch, treating
her to a thorough kneading before settling into a purring bundle at the curve of her body. Shadow curled up in front of the sofa. Soon they were bathed in warmth from the fireplace.

She imagined Aunt Silky
in this very scene, her pets gathered around to offer comfort. She wondered if her aunt was ever lonely, ever regretted her choice of remaining single and childless.

She visualized Silky riding around her property, astride a strong horse. Frowning, she sucked in a deep breath. She found it hard to believe
that Silky had been thrown from her beloved paint stallion, Red. In their many conversations, Silky had never said Red was hard to handle.

“He’s a great big pussy-cat,” Silky
claimed. “He treats me like I’m made of glass.” She was a petite but excellent horsewoman, bragging that she could ride better than any of her hands. Cami had no reason to doubt her.

Closing her eyes,
she thought of Clay, her long-time boyfriend who had recently asked her to become his bride.

Marrying him
was the sensible thing to do. He was a fledgling stock broker, having earned his MBA in Financial Management. He had a knack for the market and assured her they had a great future together. She knew this was true. Clay was sweet and steady. He made her feel secure.

She
hadn’t even had a chance to tell Aunt Silky before her accident.

As
she drifted off to sleep, she wondered what had happened the day Silky had been thrown to her death. Maybe she’d had a dizzy spell. Silky never had any complaints of this sort. Perhaps the local doctor had examined her. She could check with him before she left for the airport.

BOOK: The Doctor's Choice
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