Baby, Drive South (30 page)

Nikki blinked at the stinging remark, waiting for him to laugh, to say it was a joke and wish her the best. Instead he lumbered out the door and down the hall, his crutches thumping.

Hurt and confused, Nikki stepped out into the hall. “I thought your leg was hurting!” she called out

“I was mistaken,” he yelled over his shoulder.

“Porter…wait.”

He stopped and looked back, his expression unreadable. Nikki dashed back inside to grab the soft denim shirt he’d given her from the back of her desk chair. She raised it to her nose and mouth to inhale his earthy scent one more time, then she walked out of her office and down the hall to where he’d stopped. “Here’s your shirt back.”

He stared at the shirt for a few seconds. She wondered if he even remembered giving it to her, and suddenly felt foolish.

Then he reached out and took it, draped it over one shoulder, and without saying a word, hobbled away.

31

“D
id they teach you that in the Army?”

Porter leaned his head toward Kendall where they stood in the back of the crowded, darkened media room, but he didn’t take his eyes off Darren Rocha, who had slid his arm along the back of Nikki’s chair. “Teach me what?”

“How to vaporize the enemy with a hostile stare.”

Porter frowned and turned to look at Kendall. “Shut up.”

“Shh!”
someone hissed from the chairs in front of them.

A high-action flick played on the large flat-screen TV. He’d had his doubts about whether the workers would buy into a group “movie night,” but it was standing-room only. Rocha, though, had landed the best seat in the house.

Next to Nikki.

Porter fumed. It was pretty obvious that Nikki had told him she couldn’t come back until her van was repaired, so the man had come to fetch her. Like a bone.

That Porter wanted.

“What happened in Atlanta?” Kendall whispered.

“Nothing.”

“Is that why you’ve been as moody as a woman since you got back?”

“You’re a good one to talk, Mr. Black Cloud.”

“Shh!”

“Do you mind?”

“We’re trying to watch the movie!”

Porter felt a familiar sting on his ear, and knew from Kendall’s grunt that he’d gotten his ear boxed, too.

“Both of you stop yammering,” Marcus said behind them in a low voice, “and follow me.”

Porter shot one more glance at Nikki and Darren Rocha, annoyed to see the man had weaseled his arm around her, then turned to follow Kendall and Marcus out of the great room into the wide hallway.

“What’s up?” he asked.

Concern lined Marcus’s face. “Have either of you two seen Riley Bates lately?”

“No.” Porter looked to Kendall, who was also shaking his head. “Why?”

Marcus nodded to the end of the hall. Nelson Diggs, the man who’d cut his hand while working on the clinic site, sat there, his face contorted with pain. He held his duct-taped hand in front of him and as Porter walked closer, he could tell it was swollen. Badly. “That’s not good. Let me get Nikki.”

Marcus grabbed his arm. “Diggs refuses to see Dr. Salinger. He says he only wants Doc Riley, but I can’t find him.”

Porter made his way over to Diggs and leaned on his crutches. “Nelson, you should let Dr. Salinger look at your hand. It could be infected.”

Nelson shook his head. “Riley can fix me up.”

“Nelson, this looks serious. You need to see a real doctor.”

“No way,” Nelson said, his voice escalating. “My wife went to a hospital with a scratch and came home in a casket. I don’t trust doctors, especially women doctors!”

Porter set his jaw in frustration. But the last thing he wanted was to summon Nikki and have the man refuse her treatment in an embarrassing scene—in front of her fiancé.

He ground his teeth. Ex-fiancé.

Porter glanced up at Marcus, who lifted his hands. “No one has seen Riley around the barracks for a couple of days.”

“I know where Riley sets up camp when he goes off to collect plants,” Porter offered. “It’s around Devil’s Rock. I’ll take an ATV up there to look for him.”

“That’s a dangerous area to navigate in the daylight,” Marcus said. “Much less this time of night, and with your bum leg.”

“I’ll take an ATV and go with him,” Kendall said. “It’ll be safer if we drive together, and I can bring Riley back with me.”

Marcus gave a curt nod. “Get going.”

Porter and Kendall headed out. He cursed the foolish notions of some of the men, the superstitions and the chauvinism. No wonder Nikki didn’t want to stay here.

That and the fact that he’d taken advantage of her in Atlanta. He’d known she was vulnerable, on the rebound. And he hadn’t cared. He’d just wanted her for himself. He goosed the gas, angry at the circumstances, angry at himself.

Even with the bright headlights, the going was slow and hazardous. There was no trail, per se, just a winding route through trees and over rocks. They had to stop several times to get their bearings. About thirty minutes later, Porter spotted Riley’s white tent through the trees and pointed. “There.”

When they cut their engines, they could hear the man moaning.

“Riley?” Porter shouted.

“Help,” came the feeble reply.

Kendall reached the tent first. It took Porter a while to pick his way through the brush on his crutches. By the time he got to the entrance of the tent, Kendall had found an electric lantern. Riley Bates was lying on a sleeping bag, sweating and clutching his chest. Kendall was leaning close to Riley’s ear.

“What’s wrong?” Porter asked.

Kendall sat back on his heels. “Chest pains. We have to get him to town—fast.”

Dependent on his crutches, Porter was little help situating Riley onto the rear of Kendall’s ATV, but he led the way back in record time. When they pulled up to the boardinghouse, he hurried inside to get Marcus to help Kendall, then made his way to the rear great room where the movie was still playing.

“Nikki!” he called, and everyone turned. He caught her gaze. “We have an emergency. Everyone else, please stay seated. Just let the doctor through.”

Nikki was already on her feet. To Porter’s consternation, Rocha came with her, but she sent him to her office to get her medical bag.

“What’s wrong?” she asked Porter.

“Two patients,” he said, leading her to the front room where Nelson Diggs sat moaning.

When Nikki asked to examine his hand, he shook his head. “I wanna see Doc Riley.”

Nikki sighed and looked up. “Where’s Riley?”

The door opened and Marcus and Kendall came in, half carrying Riley Bates.

“There,” Porter said. “He’s having chest pains.”

While Nikki sprang into action, directing his brothers to lay Riley on the floor, Porter explained to Nelson that the man was incapacitated and he would have to allow Dr. Salinger to examine his hand. But the man just tightened his mouth and fell silent.

Rocha returned with Nikki’s medical bag and, in Porter’s opinion, hovered.

“You can go back to finish watching the movie,” Porter offered.

“I’m good,” Darren said. “Nikki might need me.”

Porter bit down on the inside of his cheek.

“Everyone quiet, please,” Nikki said, glaring between the both of them. She knelt over Riley and palpated his chest, then asked him questions. Porter couldn’t hear everything, but he got the gist that she was more worried about what he’d taken for his chest pains than the chest pains themselves.

“Mountain laurel,” she announced, looking up. “He poisoned himself trying to treat his symptoms—his stomach needs to be pumped. He needs to be moved to the clinic as soon as possible, preferably on a stretcher.”

Marcus and Kendall left to get the equipment. Porter noticed that Darren considered going to help his brothers, yet seemed reluctant to leave Nikki alone…with him.

Nikki left Riley’s side long enough to return to Nelson. “Mr. Diggs,” she said quietly. “I’m sure you have your reasons for not trusting me. But believe me when I say I only want to help you. I’d hate to see a strong, capable man like you lose the use of your hand from something that could be prevented.”

He looked wary. “Doc didn’t do anything wrong when he fixed me up.”

“I’m sure he didn’t,” she agreed. “But situations change—your injuries may simply have gotten worse on their own.”

Diggs chewed on his lip, then unfolded his hand and extended it to her. Porter winced at the red flesh swollen around the binding of the grungy duct tape.

“Yes, it looks as if it’s infected,” she said softly. Then she gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ll change your dressings and give you some antibiotics.” But when she stood and looked at Porter, her expression was grave. “Let’s get him down to the clinic, too.”

The next hour was a blur of activity. The men were transported to the new clinic where Nikki gave Riley medicine to quiet his chest pains, then scrambled to pump his stomach. Then she turned her attention to Nelson Diggs and convinced him the infection required antibiotics administered through an IV. Once the medicine was flowing, she gingerly removed the industrial tape that had bound his reopened wounds, then set about cleaning and properly dressing the lacerations. Marcus stood nearby, conferring on the welfare of his men. When his body language eased, it was confirmation the men were going to be okay.

Porter observed everything through a glass window. As he watched Nikki work, every movement smooth and efficient, his chest welled with pride and some other emotion he couldn’t identify. In the face of an emergency, he had been so grateful, so relieved, to be able to turn to Nikki. How would they fare after she left? They would eventually persuade another doctor to come to their fledgling town, but would that person have the grit of this young woman?

“She’s something, isn’t she?”

Porter turned to see Darren Rocha standing there, also watching Nikki. Porter schooled his face. “She’s a great asset to our community.”

The man made a thoughtful noise. “But is this community an asset to her?”

Porter tried to count to ten, but only made it to three. “I don’t think you’re the best person to decide what’s right for Nikki.”

Darren raised an eyebrow. “And I suppose you are? You’ve known her for, what—a couple of weeks?”

“It doesn’t take long to figure out a person,” Porter said pointedly, scanning the man’s preppie outfit and expensive shoes.

Rocha scanned Porter in return, taking in his sweat-stained shirt and dusty jeans, the soiled cast. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Porter knew these feelings of dislike for the man were unreasonable—Darren Rocha had done nothing to him personally. And the fact that he wore stuffy clothes didn’t make him a bad person. He acknowledged the tight ball of anger in his chest for what it was—jealousy. He was jealous that this man had known Nikki first, and knew her well enough to be able to lure her away from Sweetness.

No…that wasn’t fair, Porter admitted. He himself was responsible for Nikki leaving.

“Excuse me.” Porter turned and left the new building. He climbed on a four-wheeler and sat there a moment, listening to the crickets and looking up at the stars in the sky. Here in the mountains, they were closer to the heavens. He closed his eyes and inhaled a warm, honeysuckle-scented breeze. How many times when he was in the dry, bleak conditions of the desert had he longed for his childhood home, and thought the world would be a more peaceful place if everyone could live in Sweetness, Georgia.

But apparently, everyone didn’t want to live here.

He fired up the engine and drove down to the boardinghouse where the movie was just ending. As the lights came up, Porter made his way to the front of the room and asked for everyone’s attention.

“I want to let everyone know, especially the men in this room,” he said, searching out the faces of workers who’d been the most vocal about refusing to see a female doctor, “that Dr. Salinger has come to the aid of two of our residents this evening, including Riley Bates, who was on the verge of having a heart attack, and Nelson Diggs, who might otherwise have lost the use of his hand—or worse. And if Nelson had let the doctor tend to him in the first place, he wouldn’t be in this position.” He let that information sink in. “Dr. Salinger has certainly treated us with more care and respect than we’ve shown her. I’m sorry to announce that she’s leaving.”

“Leaving?” one of the women said, sounding distressed. “We can’t live here if we don’t have a doctor.”

The women chorused agreement, many of them on their feet. He let them vent. If the men realized the women wouldn’t stay without a doctor, they might treat the next physician—male or female—with more deference.

Suddenly he spotted Nikki walking into the back of the room. She looked small and tired and seemed to be searching for…him. When he caught her gaze, his heart vibrated in his chest, and the realization hit him like a thunderbolt—he loved her. That explained the mysterious pain behind his breast bone every time he was around her. As understanding sank in and his emotions unfurled, his vital signs took flight.

Then plummeted when Rocha walked in behind her and placed a possessive hand on her waist.

Slowly, everyone in the room realized Nikki had appeared. They turned and the room fell silent for a few seconds. Then one of the men stood and began to clap slowly. In waves, everyone joined in until the room erupted into applause and a standing ovation, all for their town doctor. Porter’s chest swelled with pride.

Nikki seemed at a loss. Her face turned every shade of red as she lifted her hands to deflect the expression of appreciation. But at last she smiled and nodded her thanks, accepting handshakes as people filed out of the room.

“I hope you’ll stay,” he heard more than one person say.

“Please stay.”

“I hope you’ll reconsider.”

Only Darren Rocha seemed displeased by the out-pouring of affection. When Porter hobbled back to where they stood, the man looked at him with open resentment. Porter ignored him and turned to Nikki. “You’re the woman of the hour.”

Her color was still high, her eyes sparkling. “That was very nice—thank you.”