A Gift of Family. Mia Ross
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was just in the right place at the right time,” he said as they moved out of the path of two fire trucks.
“So was I, but I never could’ve gotten him out of there. He and his family will be incredibly grateful to you. Actually, the whole town will be. He means a lot to all of us.”
Perfect, Seth grumbled silently. He’d come here to lend a hand at the diner, not be the center of a lot of unwanted, undeserved attention.
Sighing, he looked down at the pretty waitress who’d been so kind to him. “Could you do me a favor?”
“Sure,” she agreed with a bright smile.
“Could you keep this quiet?”
“In Harland?” She laughed. “Are you serious? Everyone already knows.”
“I really don’t want that.”
Clearly puzzled, she tilted her head like a curious cocker spaniel. “Why not?”
“I like being under the radar.”
“What radar?”
He didn’t know how to explain it to her, so he shook his head and started to walk away. When he heard her gasp, he whipped back around. “What’s wrong?”
“Your shirt. Your shoulder.”
Reaching over, he could feel that the shoulder seam on his left sleeve had gotten torn during the rescue. That meant...
“I have to go.” He backed away from her as if that would make her forget what she’d seen.
“Wait!” Pulling off one of her silver hoop earrings, she lifted the flap of his shirt and used the wire to fasten it to the remaining fabric. “That will cover it till we get to the hospital.”
“No.” The harshness in his tone made him wince. “I’m sorry, but I’m fine, really. Nothing to worry about.”
“Seth, your hands are all cut, and you’re bleeding in a dozen places. You at least need to clean up and get some bandages.”
As more emergency vehicles raced toward the square, people started flooding in to see what was going on. Cornered and helpless, Seth’s razor-sharp instincts were screaming for him to drop back and disappear. The problem was, there was no cover in this wide-open town square for him to slither into.
His skin crawled with cold sweat, adrenaline twisting his gut so hard he thought he’d be sick. Another quick survey of the area showed him he was completely out of options.
Swallowing the nausea, he turned to Lisa in desperation. “Will you help me?”
Chapter Three
Panic stiffened his expression, and his entire body looked ready to do battle. Lisa had never been in a war, but Seth reminded her of a trapped animal who was prepared to fight to the death rather than surrender.
But there was no enemy to engage, and he had nowhere to run, which left him no options at all. She sensed that he was on the verge of completely losing control, so priority one was to get him calmed down before that happened. She couldn’t do that here.
The wild swings in his behavior—from heroic to
panicked—were like nothing she’d ever seen, and she wasn’t sure what to do. Then she recalled Ruthy taking his hand and talking quietly, forcing him to listen. If she tried the same, would he go along or turn and run?
Lisa reached for his blood-streaked hand, half expecting him to pull away.
He didn’t.
Instead, he clasped her hand firmly, as if he was holding on to a rope that could save him from falling into nothing. After the horrific view she’d gotten of his shoulder, his shadowy history only made her more curious about him. Maybe someday he’d trust her enough to tell her the truth about himself. For now, he needed her help. Despite her misgivings about him, Seth had taken an enormous risk to rescue a man he’d never met. She wasn’t about to let him down.
“Come on,” she said as calmly as she could manage. “Let’s get out of here.”
They started walking, and she slipped her cell phone from the pocket of her apron.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Hush.” She punched a button and put a determined smile on her face. “Hey, Ruthy. Just wanted to let you know everything’s fine. Pastor Charles is a little banged up, and the EMTs are taking him to Kenwood Hospital just to be safe. Seth’s walking me back to my place to check on Cleo. We should be back in about half an hour.” After a pause, she laughed. “Yeah, you know how she is when the weather gets bad like this. I’ll make up the time later. ’Bye.”
She put the phone away, and he smiled down at her. “For a waitress, you’re pretty good under pressure.”
“It’s not a lie,” she informed him coolly. “I found my cat when she was about four weeks old, out in a bad thunderstorm. Ever since then she’s been terrified of storms. I’ll be glad if she comes out of hiding at all today.”
Turning down a side street, she led him up a set of stairs and unlocked the door of an apartment wrapped on three sides by a wide porch. After being hammered by the wind for so long, the calm inside was a welcome change.
She loved her tidy studio, with its L-shaped kitchen tucked in one corner and a small bathroom in the other. The garlands swagging from the ceiling were real, filling the open space with the outdoorsy scent of pine. Twined into them were long strings of ivy and tiny white lights that popped on when she hit the switch by the door. A nice contrast to the clouds outside, the effect was warm and inviting.
“Cleo?” Lisa called out, moving around in search mode. “The thunder’s gone, baby. You can come out now.”
It took her about two minutes to discover the cat was nowhere to be found. Hands on her hips, she declared, “I’ll guess she’ll turn up when she’s ready.”
Glancing around, Seth frowned. “Can she really get out of here?”
“There’s a hole in the bathroom ceiling that goes up into the eaves. I’ve never checked, but I think she hides in there when she’s scared.”
Moving to the doorway, Seth peered into the bathroom. “Did it ever occur to you that if she can get out, other critters can get in?”
Lisa went into the kitchen and turned on the water to wash the dust off her hands. “Oh, it’s not that big.”
“I don’t know. Mice don’t need much of an opening.”
“Cleo would take care of any that snuck in,” Lisa assured him.
“How is she with bats?”
She’d just opened the cupboard where she kept the first-aid kit, and she stared over her shoulder at him. “Bats?”
“Not your favorite, huh?”
She shuddered as she pulled out the little box. “We have them out at the farm all the time. They’re like rats with wings.”
“If you’ve got some cardboard and tinfoil, I can make a plug for you to put in the hole after your cat comes back.”
“I’m perfectly capable of doing that myself.”
“Sorry,” he apologized, holding up his hands in deference to her temper. “Didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Yeah, no one ever does.” Sighing, she said, “Have a seat. We need to get you cleaned up before anyone else sees you.”
She motioned for him to sit at the kitchen table. Once she had a bowl of warm water, she joined him.
“This might hurt,” she warned as she stirred some rubbing alcohol into the water.
“It’s