Rancher's Refuge. Линда Гуднайт
and stopped. A woman in blue scrubs with a curly black ponytail strode toward Austin’s side of the truck.
Curiosity curled in Annalisa’s belly. Was this the wife?
Austin lowered his window. With a jerk of his chin toward Annalisa he said, “Found this lady at the falls. I’m taking her to see Dr. Ron.”
The woman narrowed moss green eyes at Annalisa. “What happened?”
“I fell.” The lie was easier this time.
“The mountain trails are good for that. Anything I can do?” The last question was for Austin.
“You can cook something.”
“So can you.” The woman laughed, dimples flashing in a longish face. “I was asking if there is anything I can do for her.” She stuck her head through the window, stretching past Austin. “By the way, I’m Cassie. My big brother has no social skills.”
An odd trickle of interest shifted over Annalisa as she introduced herself to Cassie. The sister, not the wife.
“Are you a nurse?”
Teeth flashed as Cassie laughed. “A hairdresser, but I know a bum arm when I see one. You need an X-ray. By the way, you have great hair. I’d love to get my hands on it.”
Annalisa’s fingers flew to the dark blond mass of thick, shoulder-length waves. Inwardly she smirked at the vain reaction. Even an injury didn’t stop a woman from enjoying a compliment. “Thank you.”
Cassie tapped Austin on the shoulder with a fist. “Get going. She’s in a lot of pain.” By now the three dogs were hopping around the sister. “Bring us a pizza. I’m in no mood to cook.”
Austin groaned. “You brought pizza last night.”
“So I like pizza.”
“And hate to cook.”
Cassie picked up the poodle and waved his paw. “Burgers, then. With fries and pies. Apple.”
Austin didn’t argue. He put the gear in Reverse and headed away from the ranch.
“How far?”
“To the doc’s?” He glanced toward her and back to the bumpy gravel road. “About ten minutes.”
With an acknowledging nod, Annalisa braced her arm against her chest, leaned back against the headrest and prayed that James had gone on without her.
* * *
Austin whipped the truck into the parking spot marked “Physicians Only” and killed the motor in front of Johnson’s Medical Clinic. Dr. Ron Johnson’s maroon Jeep was in the lot and he was the only physician for twenty-five miles. Austin figured the two extra physician parking spots outside the office were wishful thinking on the part of the overzealous town council.
The town was like that these days, optimistic in the face of a lousy economy. Mayor Fairchild, whom everyone called Rusty, had asked the churches to pray, a request that had a handful of folks up in arms over the separation of church and state issue. Austin figured praying didn’t hurt anything. It just didn’t help.
He hustled around the truck to open the door for Annalisa, something she was already struggling to do on her own. He helped her out and led the way up on the sidewalk and into the small, modern clinic. Inside, the usual scent of antiseptic cooled the air.
At the receptionist’s window, Austin jerked a thumb toward Annalisa. “Got an injured woman here. Dr. Ron available?”
“I’ll tell him, Austin. You all sit down and fill out this mess of papers.” She stuck a clipboard across the divider. “I’ll only be a jiff.”
“Thanks, Wilma.”
Austin handed the clipboard to Annalisa along with a pen, but his restlessness wouldn’t let him sit in one of the brown vinyl chairs. Coming into town was not a favorite activity, and usually when he did, he kept to the basics—the Farm and Ranch Store, groceries, gas. An injured woman raised suspicions, and he did not want anyone asking questions.
True to her word, the bun-haired Wilma returned in a jiff to motion them toward an exam room. Dr. Ron waited inside, drying his hands on paper towels. Close to forty, the doc looked half that because of his boyish freckles and the cowlick torturing his sandy hair. He tossed the towels in a levered can and gestured to the exam table.
“Who’s sick?” One quick look at Annalisa and then the chart Wilma poked at him and he said, “Never mind. What happened?”
Annalisa cast a troubled glance at Austin. “I fell.”
Austin saw the worry hanging on her like a baggy shirt. She knew he didn’t believe her story and probably wanted him gone. Which he should be. Feeling a little chagrined to have followed a stranger into an exam room in the first place, he said, “I’ll wait outside, but I want to talk to the doc when you’re done.”
Dr. Ron met his gaze and nodded. “Sure thing. Now young lady, you hop right up here and let’s have a look at that arm.”
Austin heard the latter as he exited the room. There was a lot Annalisa wasn’t saying. Even though it was none of his business, Austin figured the doc should know his suspicions.
He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall beside the door. Wilma whipped past, leading the way for a woman and a flush-faced, coughing child. Austin figured if a man stood here all day he’d catch every disease known to medicine.
A few minutes later, the wooden door swung open and Dr. Ron sent Annalisa down the hall with an assistant for an X-ray. Austin joined the doctor inside the exam room and shut the door.
“I think she’s lying,” he blurted.
Water sprayed as Dr. Ron washed his hands yet again in the strong-scented soap. “How did you get involved?”
Austin’s gut tightened. Was the doc accusing him of something? “I found her.”
A freckled eyebrow lifted. “You don’t know her? She’s not a friend or relative?”
Anxiety pushed from Austin’s gut to his throat. When he’d brought her here, he hadn’t been thinking clearly. He’d never considered that someone might point a finger at him. He rolled the brim of his hat between nervous fingers. “Never saw her before today. She was at Whisper Falls. Or rather under it.”
“Praying?” The doc’s lips twitched, but the humor didn’t reach his serious blue eyes.
“Probably. She was running from something or someone. She claims she was hiking, but I don’t believe her. Take a look at her shoes and clothes.”
“Could she have fallen while traipsing over the falls to pray?”
Austin barked a sarcastic laugh. “Did you notice the red marks on her throat?”
The doc raised both eyebrows in insult. The cowlick quivered. “If I hadn’t I should find another occupation.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
Dr. Ron spread his palms. “Nothing I can do. She’s a grown woman, not a child. If she says she fell, I have to take her word for it. She might be telling the truth, although like you, I don’t think the bruises came from a tumble on the rocks. The broken arm, however, very well may have.”
“Maybe.” Austin patted his hat impatiently against his leg. Dr. Ron was a good sort. He’d treated Austin when a horse stumbled with him, and he’d stitched him up a couple of times. He was trustworthy. “She’s scared of something, Doc. Jumpy as a grasshopper. I think someone hurts her.”
Dr. Ron pressed his freckled lips together in silent consideration before saying, “I’ll push a little harder for details, Austin, but if she wants to keep the whole truth to herself, I can’t force it out of her.”
At that moment, Wilma and Annalisa