At Odds With The Midwife. Patricia Forsythe
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in mind for the future. That’s exactly what I’ve been talking about—planning for Reston’s future. This could be a prosperous little town if people would get behind a few of these projects.”
“Which you’ll think up and organize,” Carly said.
“Of course. Somebody has to be in charge.”
“You did do a good job of convincing the mayor to find a buyer to renovate and reopen the Mustang Supermarket,” Carly said.
“Having three grocery stores in town benefits everyone. Competition is a good thing.”
“Having three retailers to buy my produce is also a good thing.”
Smiling, Gemma settled back and only half listened to her friends. This was one of the reasons she had been so happy to move home to Reston. Besides providing a useful service to women in this rural area, she was getting to reconnect with her two best friends. Even though neither of them had anything to do with the medical field, they would be her staunchest supporters as she opened the birthing center.
Unlike Nathan Smith, Gemma thought with a sigh. His feelings about it were crystal clear and his attitude made her feel both wary and disappointed in him. She didn’t know why she’d expected more from him. After all, she didn’t really know Nathan anymore.
“Wow,” Carly said, leaning over the steering wheel to gaze ahead as she slowed to a crawl inside Reston city limits. “An actual traffic jam.”
A line of cars and trucks waited, turn signals blinking, to pull in to the high school parking lot. Junior Fedder, the deputy sheriff—short, dangerously obese and sweating profusely in the late-afternoon sun—stood at the entrance, directing traffic.
“I think that’s the most movement I’ve seen out of Junior since that day last fall when Tyler and Bradley Saxon put a dead skunk on top of the furnace in the high school basement. Junior chased those two all the way down Main Street, but they finally lost him when he collapsed in front of Wilson’s Hardware. Fortunately, he fell into a wheelbarrow so Frank Wilson was able to get him back to the sheriff’s office.”
As she listened to Carly’s matter-of-fact recital of this story, Gemma began laughing so hard tears rolled down her face. “In the...whee-wheelbarrow?” she choked.
“Yup. Frank’s wife, Tina, ran alongside, fanning Junior with a newspaper and spraying him with a plant mister.” Carly grinned and waved at Junior as the truck crept past him and into a parking place. “It was a new, heavy-duty wheelbarrow that Frank had assembled and put on display. He sold out the next day when everybody saw how much poundage one of those puppies could carry.”
“You lie.”
“No, it’s true,” Lisa assured her. “Carly bought one.”
Still laughing, Gemma all but tumbled from the truck. “Oh, how I’ve missed this town,” she said, looking up at that moment to see a solemn Nathan Smith, briefcase in hand, heading toward the auditorium. He glanced her way, nodded briefly and kept walking.
The chattering crowd fell silent and stood back to let him pass. Gemma saw him pause and glance around, then mount the steps purposefully. As far as she could tell, every eye was on him, but no one had greeted him.
“Come on,” Lisa said. “Or we’ll never find a seat.”
As it turned out, someone had saved seats for them near the front so they had a good view of the proceedings. Gemma looked around, recalling happy memories of her time at Reston High School. In spite of her unusual parents and her own obsession with finding and patching up wounded animals, she had never felt like an outsider and had enjoyed her years here. She was happy to see that, except for a fresh coat of paint and recently reupholstered seats, the big auditorium was still the same.
Two rows of chairs were on the stage and each was filled with someone important to the reopening of the hospital. County supervisors and city planners were in the back row. In the front row, white-haired, sleepy-looking Brantley Clegg, who ran the bank and would be handling the finances, sat on the far end beside Harley Morton, the mayor of Reston. Nathan, somber in a black suit and tie, was next. He sat arrow straight in the hard folding chair, his hands on his knees, his gaze on the audience, although Gemma didn’t think he was actually seeing anyone.
Beside him were Tom and Frances Sanderson, wealthy landowners and cattle ranchers who had given a huge sum of money to the project. When Frances saw Gemma, she elbowed her husband and the two of them gave her happy waves. Gemma waved back. Nathan saw this interaction and shot a swift glance from the couple to Gemma.
Gemma’s smile faded. Nathan would find out soon enough how it was that she and the Sandersons were so well acquainted.
“Wow,” Carly said under her breath. “I wouldn’t have known Nathan. He’s so much taller, and in great shape. He looks like—”
“A sexy undertaker,” Lisa finished for her. “I noticed that the other day when Gemma and I were at his house. Very solemn.”
“I don’t ever remember him being a barrel of laughs,” Carly said. “And now he looks like he’s made up his mind to run his head into a brick wall.”
Gemma studied his face. Carly was right. He didn’t appear to be looking forward to this at all. He must have felt her gaze on him because his eyes met hers. Her heart gave a little kick of anticipation but she didn’t want to analyze the reason for it.
She pulled her attention from him as Mayor Morton approached the podium and went through the usual ritual of tapping the microphone attached to the antique sound system to make sure it was working, then leaning in so close to speak that it released a loud squawk. The audience groaned and several people clapped their hands over their ears.
“Oh, uh, sorry, folks.” The mayor looked contrite as he jerked back. The microphone went dead and he was perplexed for a minute until a boy who couldn’t have been more than fourteen jumped onto the stage and fiddled with something under the podium, then picked up the microphone and handed it to the mayor.
“Oh, thanks, Owen.” The mayor nodded and finally seemed to be in his element. He looked up and fixed his good-neighbor-and-good-politician smile into place as he surveyed the audience. “We’re here as a community to reveal the plans for reopening Reston County Hospital. We’ve got a slide show to explain our plans and we’ll take questions afterward.”
“I’ve got a question right now,” a voice called out.
Everyone turned to look at the speaker.
“Cole Burleigh,” Gemma said, her lips tightening in a line of annoyance.
“Oh, for crying out loud, who kicked over a rock and let him slither out?” Carly asked as Lisa clicked her tongue in disgust.
Cole looked around the big room to make sure he had everyone’s attention. He didn’t look much different than he had in high school, except that he had filled out, and if he wasn’t careful would soon begin running to fat. His blond hair was still thick, his brown eyes just as calculating. They narrowed as he pointed to Nathan and asked, “I want to know if Dr. Smith’s briefcase is packed full of all that money his dear old daddy stole.”
A murmur ran through the crowd as people turned to watch Nathan’s reaction. His color deepened and he started to rise to his feet. The mayor waved him down as he turned back to Cole.
“This is neither the time nor the place for that, and—”
“Why not? It’s why everyone is here, after all.”
A WAVE OF assent rippled through the audience and Gemma’s heart sank. Cole was right. People were interested in the new hospital, but they were at this meeting to try and find out if Nathan knew the whereabouts of his father and, more importantly, the missing money. She watched as people she’d