The Cop. Jan Hudson
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he has to do is push that little button right there.” Curtis pointed out the intercom on the phone base beside Cole.
After the old fellows said their goodbyes and left, Kelly took off her sweater and draped it over the back of a chair in the kitchen nook. She stowed the perishables in the small fridge and the other groceries in a cabinet under the microwave, listing the items to Cole as she worked.
“You should have plenty for a simple breakfast and for snacks.” She picked up another large shopping bag. “And I bought you some new sweats and things—without holes.” She grinned.
He glanced down at his shirt where the “HPD PIGS” across the chest was faded almost to oblivion. “You don’t like my football outfit?”
“It’s charming, but I think it’s nearing retirement.” She stashed the new clothes in the chest by the bathroom door. “Your pajamas are in the top drawer here.”
“I don’t wear pajamas.”
Her heart tripped. She didn’t dare look at him. “You have several pair.”
“My mom bought them.”
“Oh.” She closed the drawer and turned. Playing perky again, she said, “Let’s see. The bedroom is through there. The bathroom is here. I put your shaving kit on the counter. The fridge and the microwave and the coffeepot are over there. The remote for the TV is on the table beside you with the phone. I guess that about covers it.” Why was she babbling? She took a deep breath. “Want something to drink?”
“Yeah. A beer would be nice.”
“Sorry. No beer with the medication you’re on. You may have Coke, cream soda, milk, orange juice, apple juice, tomato juice or water. Or coffee. And Mary Beth left a big plate of brownies.”
“A cup of coffee would taste good. And the whole plate of brownies. Join me?”
“Only if I can have two brownies,” she said as she poured water into the coffeemaker. “I’m a sucker for chocolate.”
“I’ll arm wrestle you for them.”
She laughed. “Don’t look so smug. I’m stronger than I look. I could probably take you two out of three.”
His playfulness vanished. “In the condition I’m in, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Fighting the urge to sigh, Kelly said, “Don’t use that as an excuse, buster. I could probably take you on your best day.”
There was a flicker at the corner of his mouth. “Okay. I’ll let you have a brownie.”
“Two.”
“Okay, two. I’m easy.”
She doubted that. Her instincts told her that nothing about Cole Outlaw was easy. While the coffee dripped, Kelly curled up on the couch. “How did the therapy go?”
Cole shrugged. He shrugged a lot. He didn’t seem to be much of a talker.
“Your dad said that either he or one of the domino guys will drive you to your appointments.”
“He told me. You’re not from around here are you, Red?”
She shook her head. “I’m originally from Dallas. And my name is Kelly.”
“How’d you get from Dallas to Naconiche?”
“I drove.”
Cole let out a short bark of laughter. “Let me rephrase that…Kelly. What happened between the time you were a kid in Dallas and your arriving in Naconiche as a doctor?”
“You want the long version or the short?”
“Let’s start with the short, and we’ll flesh it out later.”
“Well, I grew up in Dallas.”
“Big family?”
“I had a younger sister, but she died when I was in junior high. Leukemia.”
“Parents?”
“One of each,” she said. “My mom is president of a bank, and my dad is a biology professor at SMU.”
His eyebrows went up. “Interesting. Did you go to SMU?”
“Nope. I went to the University of Texas. Your brother Frank’s fiancée and I were sorority sisters there. How about you?”
“I never joined a sorority.”
Kelly smiled. “I meant where did you go to school?”
“Sam Houston in Huntsville. It has the best criminal justice department in the state. Why did you decide to become a doctor?”
“I’m not sure. Probably because I was always good at science, and I wanted to help people. Maybe losing my little sister had something to do with it.” She got up and poured coffee and brought the brownies over to where they were sitting. “Why did you become a cop?”
“It’s in the genes. All the Outlaws are cops of one sort or another.”
“I haven’t read anything in the research that suggests career choice is genetic.” She polished off her first brownie and reached for another. “These are good. Mary Beth is a great cook.”
“Yep. J.J.’s a lucky man. How did you get from sorority girl to doctor to here?”
“I went to medical school in Houston and did my internship and residency there and stayed on to work for a while. I learned that one of the doctors in Naconiche was retiring, and I applied to work with him and take his place. And here I am.”
“You never married?”
“Nope. I never had time. You?”
“Once. It didn’t take. I learned I’m not the marrying kind.”
For some reason Kelly’s heart sank, which was silly. She barely knew the man. And as soon as he was rehabilitated, he’d go back to Houston. Nothing about him indicated that he was a candidate for a relationship. Still, she had a mighty urge to swan dive into those marvelous, mysterious eyes.
She stood. “I’ve got to run. You need to rest, and I have to check on a couple of patients at the hospital. Need anything before I go?”
“Not a thing. Say, I want to pay you for the stuff you bought, but I don’t have any money or a checkbook. You take a credit card?”
She laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I charged the clothes to you at Olsen’s, and the groceries are on me.”
“Thanks, Red.”
“Kelly.”
“Kelly. Come back and visit sometime.”
“I will.”
“Is that a promise?”
“It’s a promise.”
As soon as she left Kelly realized that she’d left her sweater behind. Oh, blast it! Now both her jacket and her sweater were there. Freudian slip? An excuse to return? Maybe. Cole was an intriguing man, and she couldn’t deny that she was affected by him. She would drop by tomorrow night after aerobics class and pick up her forgotten items.
COLE DECIDED he wanted another cup of coffee, but he quickly learned that he couldn’t carry a full mug and navigate with it and the walker back to the recliner. He cursed and drank the coffee standing up. When he finished he noticed the brown sweater hanging on the back of the straight chair.
He picked the soft garment up and sniffed it. A faint scent of spices and field flowers. The material smelled of her—just like the jacket she’d left behind. He hung the sweater over his walker and moved back to his recliner to sit down. Wadding the sweater in both hands, he buried his face in it and breathed deeply. He was bone tired, but not too tired to imagine what it would feel like to have the woman under the fabric. He felt