Her Kind of Hero. Diana Palmer
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go to prison for years!” Callie exclaimed, horrified.
“Not really,” the driver said, pulling quickly into a parking spot at a local supermarket. “Everybody out.”
Callie’s head was spinning. They got out of the SUV and into a beige sedan sitting next to it, with keys in the ignition. She was crowded into the back with Micah and young Peter, while the two pilots, one a Hispanic and the other almost as blond as Micah, crowded Bojo on either side in the front. The driver took off at a sedate pace and pulled out into Miami traffic.
That was when she noticed that all the men were wearing gloves. She wasn’t. “Oh, that’s lovely,” she muttered. “That’s just lovely! Everybody’s wearing gloves but me. My fingerprints will be the only ones they find, and I’ll go to prison for years. I guess you’ll all come and visit me Sundays, right?” she added accusingly.
Micah chuckled with pure delight. “The guy who owns the SUV is a friend of Eb’s, and even though he doesn’t show it, he has a sense of humor. He’ll double up laughing when he runs your prints and realizes who had his four-wheel drive. I’ll explain it to you later. Take us straight to Dr. Candler’s office, Don,” he told the blond guy at the wheel. “You know where it is.”
“You bet, boss,” came the reply.
“I’m not going to prison?” Callie asked again, just to be sure.
Micah pursed his lips. “Well, that depends on whether or not the guy at customs recognizes us. I was kidding!” he added immediately when she looked ready to cry.
She moved her shoulder and grimaced. “I’ll laugh enthusiastically when I get checked out,” she promised.
“He’ll take good care of you,” Micah assured her. “He and I were at medical school together.”
“Is he, I mean, does he do what you do?”
“Not Jerry,” he told her. “He specializes in trauma medicine. He’s chief of staff at a small hospital here.”
“I see,” she said, nodding. “He’s a normal person.”
Micah gave her a speaking glance while the others chuckled.
The hospital where Micah’s friend worked was only a few minutes from the airport. Micah took Callie inside while the others waited in the car. Micah had a private word with the receptionist, who nodded and left her desk for a minute. She came back with a tall, dark-headed man about Micah’s age. He motioned to Micah.
Callie was led back into an examination room. Micah sank into a chair by the desk.
“Are you going to sit there the whole time?” Callie asked Micah, aghast, when the doctor asked her to remove the shirt she was wearing so he could examine her.
“You haven’t got anything that I haven’t seen, and I need to explain to Jerry what I did to treat your wound.” He proceeded to do that while Callie, uncomfortable and shy, turned her shoulder to him and removed the shirt.
After checking her vital signs, Dr. Candler took the bandage off and examined the small red cut with a scowling face. “How did this happen?” he asked curtly.
“One of Lopez’s goons had a knife and liked to play games with helpless women,” Micah said coldly.
“I hope he won’t be doing it again,” the physician murmured as he cleaned and redressed the superficial wound.
“That’s classified,” Micah said simply.
Callie glanced at him, surprised. His black eyes met hers, but he didn’t say anything else.
“I’m going to give you a tetanus shot as a precaution,” Dr. Candler said with a professional smile. “But I can almost guarantee that the cut won’t leave a scar when it heals. I imagine it stings.”
“A little,” Callie agreed.
“I need to give her a full examination,” Dr. Candler told him after giving Callie the shot. “Why don’t you go outside and smoke one of those contraband Cuban cigars I’m not supposed to know you have?”
“They aren’t contraband,” Micah told him. “It isn’t illegal if you get given one that someone has purchased in Cuba. Cobb was down there last month and he brought me back several.”
“Leave it to you to find a legal way to do something illegal,” Candler chuckled.
“Speaking of which, I’d better give a mutual acquaintance a quick call and thank him for the loan of his equipment.” He glanced at Callie and smiled softly. “Then maybe Callie can relax while you finish here.”
She didn’t reply. He went out and closed the door behind him. She let out an audible sigh of relief.
“Now,” Dr. Candler said as he continued to examine her. “Tell me what happened.”
She did, still shaken and frightened by what she’d experienced in the last two days. He listened while he worked, his face giving nothing away.
“What happened to the man who did it?” he persisted.
She gave him an innocent smile. “I really don’t know,” she lied.
He sighed. “You and Micah.” He shook his head. “Have you known him long?”
“Since I was fifteen,” she told him. “His father and my mother were briefly married.”
“You’re Callie!” the doctor said at once.
4
The look on Callie’s face was priceless. “How did you know?” she asked.
He smiled. “Micah talks about you a lot.”
That was a shocker. “I didn’t think he wanted anybody to know I even existed,” she pointed out.
He pursed his lips. “Well, let’s just say that he has ambiguous feelings about you.”
Ambiguous. Right. Plainly stated, he couldn’t stand her. But if that was true, why had he come himself to rescue her, instead of just sending his men?
She drew in a breath as he tended to her. “Am I going to be okay?”
“You’re going to be good as new in a few days.” He smiled at her. “Trust me.”
“Micah seems to.”
“He should. I taught him everything he knows about surgery,” he chuckled. “I was a year a head of him when we were in graduate school, and I took classes for one of the professors occasionally.”
She smiled. “You’re very good.”
“So was he,” he replied grimly.
She hesitated, but curiosity prodded her on. “If it wouldn’t be breaking any solemn oath, could you tell me why he didn’t finish his residency?”
He did, without going into details. “He realized medicine wasn’t his true calling.”
She nodded in understanding.
“But you didn’t hear that from me,” he added firmly.
“Oh, I never tell people things I know,” she replied easily, smiling. “I work for a lawyer.”
He chuckled. “Do tell?”
“He’s something of a fire-eater, but he’s nice to me. He practices criminal law back in Jacobsville, Texas.”
He put the medical equipment to one side and told her she could get dressed.
“I’m going to put you on some antibiotics to fight off infection.” He studied her with narrowed eyes. “What you’ve been through is traumatic,” he added as he handed her the prescription bottle. “I’d advise counseling.”
“Right