Just Down the Road (5 page)

“Well, Doc, I couldn’t find much in the way of real food, but I made you an egg sandwich.”

“You’re cooking?” It seemed a strange thing to do before he killed her, but Addison had slept through the few psych classes she’d taken.

“I figured you’d want to eat something before you go.” He raised an eyebrow. “You planning on leaving with a wet head?”

“Look, Mr. Turner. I’m not your problem and I’m leaving.” Addison rushed toward her purse. “If you want a ride, you’d better be in the car when I back out of the garage.”

She knew she was probably overreacting, but she’d had all she wanted of him or any controlling man, and if he was insane, she had pepper spray in her purse.
Somewhere!

“I don’t need someone worrying about my hair or if I’m eating,” she said as she kept looking and tried not to sound panicky. “I am none of your concern. I can take care of myself, and I moved here with the nearest neighbor a mile away for a reason.”

She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d yelled at her and stormed out, and she wouldn’t care. He’d stepped over the line when he’d stepped into her house.

Gripping the spray can in a death grip, she hurried for the door.

He met her there, the egg sandwich in his hand.

She raised the pepper spray and widened her stance, then looked up into laughing eyes.

“Sorry, Doc.” He held the door for her as he wrapped the sandwich in a paper towel, unaware she’d been ready for an attack.

With a huff, she stormed past him.

“I’m guessing you’re not a morning person,” he said, matching her long strides to the garage.

When she glared at him across the hood and opened her mouth, he added, “I know, none of my concern.”

She didn’t look at him as she started the car and drove toward town. He had the good sense not to say a word. He just sat, his shoulder almost touching hers in the small car, and ate the egg sandwich.

When she pulled into the parking lot, he climbed out and yelled, “Thanks for the ride,” as she rushed away.

An hour later, when she told Georgia Veasey about how he’d walked right into her house and made himself at home in the kitchen, Georgia laughed.

“Tinch grew up on that land. I’m guessing he’s been walking into the Rogers house all his life.”

“It’s my place now,” Addison said. “And from now on I’m keeping the doors locked. If I never see Tinch Turner again, it’ll be too soon.”

Georgia shrugged. “When he comes in to get the stitches removed, I’ll take care of him. He’s a good man on bad times. You might want to get to know him.”

“Thanks, but I’m not looking for a man, period.” Addison had never said anything to anyone in Harmony about being married in her teens or how her father’s determination to direct her life had driven her to Harmony, but Nurse Veasey must have sensed something was broken inside her, and she’d been kind enough not to rush in and try to fix it.

Georgia had offered her friendship without strings. She’d probably noticed that Addison lived at the hospital and slept at a rented house she had leased fully furnished. She had no social life except dinner after work with Georgia and her husband now and then.

When Addison got home that night, she found a loaf of bread and a dozen eggs on her porch. No note. He knew she’d know who they were from. It wasn’t a peace offering, it was simply replacing what he’d taken.

She looked to the south and saw a single light shining in the barn beside his house. Somehow the light made her feel even more alone than she already was, but alone was a great deal better than the hell of her marriage or living closer to her father.

M
ONDAY

S
EPTEMBER
12

T
URNER
R
ANCH

T
INCH WORKED WITH THE
M
ATHESONS’ HORSE UNTIL LONG
after dark. All day he’d felt lousy. Not only did he have a headache and a hangover, but he’d made a fool of himself yesterday. Any nitwit would know not to walk into a strange woman’s house and start cooking breakfast. She probably thought he was a product of too much inbreeding in this town. What had he figured, that she’d be happy he’d cooked her eggs? That it would be a peace offering so she wouldn’t look at him as if she’d seen his picture on a
Wanted
poster?

Hell no.

The lady had big city written all over her, and he’d just proven to her that she was living next door to a hick. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d stopped halfway to town and made him get out so she could run over him.
Probably the only reason she hadn’t was because she was on duty and would have to be the one to patch him up.

“Crazy thing is,” he said to the horse, “from the way I acted, speed bumps are about my equal in brain cells.”

The animal tried to nip at the brand on his jeans pocket, and Tinch decided even the horse didn’t want to visit with him.

He’d heard of women who hate men, but he could never remember being so close to one. He felt sorry for the first guy who accidentally touched her. She’d probably slice his fingers off with a scalpel. She was pretty, in a plain kind of way, if you liked washed-out women with no hairstyle or makeup. And she was jumpy too, like a newborn colt in a lightning storm.

Tossing the brush in the tub, Tinch led the horse into the first stall. Another few days and the animal would be gentle enough to take back to the Matheson place for their little girl to ride. He’d worked with the palomino for three months, and she was ready to join the family. The wounds where the animal had been mistreated by her first owner had healed, but the scars were still there beneath the hair.

He had no doubt that little Saralynn Matheson would show the horse only kindness and her uncle Hank would keep a close eye on them both.

Tinch checked on the other horses, each damaged in some way the vet couldn’t fix, and others about to go through a hard birthing that would need someone close to help. When he walked out the barn door, he noticed the lights were on at the Rogerses place. The angry doctor was home. If she could call it home? Except for a few clothes scattered around, the place looked exactly like it had the night the Rogerses were killed. They’d been in a bad car accident last winter. As far as he knew, the daughter didn’t take anything but a few pictures out of the house after the funeral. She wanted to sell the place as is. When that didn’t work, she had a leasing company rent it out. No one had ever driven out to look at it until the doctor moved in.

Tinch had always thought some farmer would buy the property.
He would have bought it if he’d been able to scrape up the money. The land was good and water ran through it all year round. There were even a few fishing holes on the spread that he used to love going to as a kid. The house was small, but it would make a good starter place.

If all Addison Spencer wanted was somewhere to crash between shifts, why hadn’t she rented an apartment in town? Why come all the way out here?

He answered his own question. “She is someone who wants to be alone.”

All the anger toward her left him in one exhale as it occurred to him that maybe the blond lady had something in common with the palomino. Her scars didn’t show either, but he’d bet they were there. She reminded him of an animal who’d been mistreated. She hadn’t come out here to work. She’d come to Harmony to hide. That might explain why the mail truck never stopped at her box by the road. If the woman was hiding, she’d have a box in town so no one would bother her. That could be the reason why his showing up at her door had riled her so much.

He didn’t see her for three days, but she was on his mind. When he went in to have the stitches checked, Georgia took care of him and didn’t say a word about the doctor.

Tinch went into town a few days later for supplies and found himself parking in the hospital parking lot.

He wasn’t interested in her as a woman, or a doctor for that matter.

So why was he parked watching people come and go in the rain? If she noticed him, she’d think he was stalking her. It wasn’t that at all. If he had to come up with a reason, Tinch would have to say it was because he thought she was hurt. For as long as he could remember, he’d never been able to stand to see an animal frightened or in pain. Maybe that was why it was so hard to watch Lori Anne as the cancer took her piece by piece. The last few years before she died, no matter what he did, no matter what the doctors did, she was always in pain.

Climbing out of his pickup, he walked into the hospital.
Someone told him an old friend of his father’s had suffered another heart attack. The least Tinch could do while he was here was pay his respects.

Fifteen minutes later, he cut through the waiting area of the emergency room on his way out. He’d about decided something was wrong with the air in hospitals because he couldn’t seem to draw a deep breath. Lost in thought, he was almost out the door when Dr. Addison Spencer crossed his path.

He stepped sideways. “Excuse me,” he said, and would have continued on, but she stopped in front of him and raised her chin slightly.

“Tinch, isn’t it?” she said, as if she barely remembered him.

He smiled. “Yeah, your closest neighbor.”

“How’s your head?”

“Healing.” He realized what she must think. “I’m not checking in. I just dropped by to see a friend, Jeremiah Truman.” He figured he’d better give details or she might not believe him. “He’s not doing so well. I fear he’s counting out what’s left by the clock and not the calendar.”

“Your diagnosis may be right.” She relaxed a bit. “I check in on him several times a day. So does half the town, it seems.”

Georgia Veasey moved up next to Addison, and Tinch noticed that both women had on their raincoats.

“How are you doing, Tinch?” Georgia asked in a sweet voice, as if she hadn’t been threatening him a few days ago with death if he didn’t stop fighting.

Tinch recounted his testimony but added, “I was just leaving.”

With Georgia boundaries were between countries, not people. “Where you going on this drab rainy night?”

Tinch was used to her, so he didn’t take offense. “I thought I’d get something to eat and head home. I’m not planning on drinking, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Georgia grinned. She’d finally gotten an answer she liked. “Why don’t you come along with the doc and me?
We’re meeting my Greg at Buffalo’s. If you promise to behave yourself, you can join us for wings and a beer.”

Tinch followed them out trying to think of an excuse, but Georgia could spot a lie.

He walked them to the doc’s car. “I might come in and order takeout, Georgia, but I don’t think I can stay. I’ll say hello to Greg while I wait for my order.”

Georgia looked disappointed. Addison appeared relieved.

He got to the muddy parking lot of the Buffalo Bar and Grill first and waited for them. The doc didn’t have much luck finding a parking place that wasn’t muddy and, from the size of her little car, she could submerge in a few of the holes. She finally parked in the street and walked around to the entrance. Both women looked soaked by the time they got inside.

Tinch held the door, then followed them in, stopping to visit with a third cousin for a minute before finding Greg and Georgia’s table. The only seat left was next to Dr. Spencer. She pulled a few inches away when he sat down.

Greg and Georgia didn’t seem to notice they were the only ones keeping the conversation going. When the waitress set the beer down, Greg said he’d already ordered for everyone. With only one thing on the menu board every night, it wasn’t hard to guess what everyone wanted.

Tinch had a feeling Greg hadn’t ordered his to go. He shrugged. It didn’t really matter. Living alone meant there was never any hurry to get home, and people like Greg and Georgia knew better than to expect much in the way of conversation.

He and Georgia’s husband had been good friends in high school more than a dozen years ago, but Greg went off to the University of Texas and Tinch stayed home to get married and farm. When Greg came back and started teaching, he was dating and Tinch had a sick wife, so there was little time for friendship. Then Lori Anne died a few months before Greg and Georgia married. Tinch didn’t even attend their wedding. Over the years, on the few occasions they saw each other, they only talked about old times in high school. Good times, Tinch thought, in memory at least.

Straightening, he realized he hadn’t been paying attention. Not that it mattered. Everyone in town probably knew he wasn’t any good at small talk on a good day, and this wasn’t even a good year.

Greg and Georgia got up to dance, both promising to be right back.

After five minutes, Tinch felt he had to say something to the doctor. He couldn’t just sit beside her ignoring her. “You dance, Doc?”

She took a breath, as if relieved she didn’t have to start the conversation. “No. I don’t know how to do this kind of dancing. When I was in high school, my mother made me take dancing at the club one summer. After three lessons the instructor let me move over to tennis.”