Mackenzie's Heroes. Linda Howard
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you’re really the Tooth Fairy?
“I’ve got my doctor decoder ring and everything,” he teased, taking pity on her, and unsure why. Possibly those big eyes, now a little teary.
“I thought you were—”
“I know. Forget it,” he said. “Sam asked me to come by on my way to the airport to pick up his prescription goggles. The flight to Bonaire leaves in an hour, so I need to get to the airport.” He stuck out a hand, deciding he had just enough time for a quick introduction. “I’m Noah Barrett. Sam and I are going scuba diving. Does that ring any bells?”
She swallowed and slipped her hand into his. He was startled to feel calluses on her palm, and her handshake was strong. What did this little female do all day, dig ditches? “Sam said something about scuba diving,” she murmured. “I knew he was leaving on vacation today.”
Noah cocked his head toward the parlor. “Did your grandmother tell you what caused her scare?”
It wasn’t until the blonde removed her hand that Noah realized he hadn’t let go. “She saw a gecko run by and apparently assumed it was some kind of plague-carrying, Texas vermin.” His fake wife shrugged, looking unhappy. “I guess it got in when I was outside with you. I think I convinced her the poor lizard wouldn’t hurt her, and was more frightened than she was.” She made a disgusted face. “Grandmother thinks Texas is a thousand miles away from civilization and expects to see man-eating rodents.”
“I gathered they didn’t come here for the sheer joy of it.”
“Why they came is beyond me,” she said. “The sooner we get them out of here, the better.”
“They can’t leave.”
His statement drew her sharp gaze. “What—what do you mean they can’t leave?”
“Your grandfather’s in pain.”
“What about a hospital? Pain is their thing!”
He watched her solemnly, wondering at her anxious hostility. “Hubert doesn’t need hospitalization. Just bed rest. I don’t think anyone could get him inside a hospital unless he was unconscious.”
She glanced quickly toward the parlor, her expression a mix of belligerence and panic. “Well, he can’t stay here.”
“Why not? He’s your grandfather.”
“Because I don’t want him here!”
Noah shook his head, baffled. “They’re family.”
“So? They never acted like family—not while…” She closed her mouth. “Why I don’t want them here is not your concern.”
She was absolutely right. Noah was vaguely curious about this new wrinkle, since as a boy he’d crossed the Vanderkellens’ path at this-or-that Boston social function. But he didn’t have time to indulge his curiosity. Bowing his head slightly, he ended the argument. “Have it your way. I’ll get Sam’s goggles and go.”
He indicated the direction of the kitchen. “Sam thought they might be on the screened porch. I assume it’s back there?”
The blonde’s furrowed brow didn’t ease. “I haven’t seen them, but yes, the porch is off the kitchen.” She waved him away, making it clear she had more urgent problems to contend with. “Check if you want.”
He took a step, then stopped. “By the way,” he whispered. “What’s your name?”
She blinked as though being dragged back from some dark place. “What?”
“Your name?”
“Oh—Sally—Sally Johnson.”
He was surprised she was single, but he supposed he shouldn’t be. He’d seen a lot of single mothers in his practice. It was only that, knowing Sam and how smart and logical he was, Noah wouldn’t have thought his sister would be quite so uncircumspect. “Well, good luck, Sally.”
She pressed her fingertips to her temples and closed her eyes, exhaling. When Noah faced the fact she either hadn’t heard him or didn’t intend to respond, he went in search of the goggles.
Five minutes of searching around, under and behind a platform glider, stacked scraps of metal, a bike, gardening tools, flower pots and a potting bench, finally brought success. Noah returned to the foyer, the goggles jutting from his hip pocket. Nobody was in the entry, but he heard voices in the parlor. When he looked in to say goodbye he was met by those blasted shimmery eyes, another silent plea hitting him full force.
“Everything okay?” he found himself asking.
She motioned him inside. “Uh—honey—could you take grandfather up to my—er—our room? He and grandmother will be staying.”
Noah felt a hitch in his chest at her use of the endearment. For a moment, he’d forgotten their charade. He gave his watch a quick, worried look. “Well—sure.”
“This is ridiculous,” Mrs. Vanderkellen said. “You never wanted to go on the walking tour of the pyramids! I should have known you’d—”
Hubert’s loud moan cut off his wife’s tirade. He clutched at his lower back. “Oh, the pain!”
“He took a pretty bad fall,” Noah interjected.
Mrs. Vanderkellen slid Noah a dubious look, as though he were part of some demonic conspiracy, but didn’t voice her suspicions. “It will take an outrageous tip to get that cabbie to move the bags in off the drive,” she muttered. “Noah, handle that.”
After taking care of the driver, Noah trudged up the stairs with his spindly burden, depositing Hubert in Sally’s sunny room on a patchwork quilt decorating a pine four-poster. “After he gets some medication, I’ll help you get him into bed.”
Mrs. Vanderkellen rummaged in her purse and didn’t immediately answer. When she turned around she held a canister of some sort. Instead of responding to his offer, she began to fog the air with what smelled like disinfectant.
Ducking under the reeking jet, he left the room and nearly crashed into Sally, lurking in the hall, wringing her hands.
“So, you’re letting them stay after all,” he said. “That’s nice.”
“Nice?” she echoed, clearly miserable. “They told me their house in Boston is being completely redecorated. They think all but a handful of hotels are filthy places teeming with the germs of a thousand strangers. And not surprisingly, not one of those adequate hotels is in this country. Oh, and they wouldn’t consider imposing on friends. Can you believe that? They don’t want to impose on friends! But, me, they can impose on.”
“They’re family—”
“Look, Dr. Garrett,” she cut in. “I’m sure you have a warm and fuzzy relationship with your grandparents, and I’m sure they’re as sweet as teddy bears. But not everybody is that lucky.”
He didn’t have time to get into a discussion about his family dynamics, though he had a feeling she’d be surprised about a few details if he did. So he merely corrected, “It’s Barrett.”
“What?”
He shook his head. “Never mind. It was interesting to meet you, Sally.” He loped down the stairs, racing the clock.
“Oh—wait! Please!”
His plan to make a swift exit was thwarted by his hostess’s entreaty. When he turned, she was lumbering down the stairs, a protective hand on her stomach. Her descent was precariously rapid and he automatically headed in her direction.
“Don’t—you’ll fall.” He jogged up several steps and took her arm. “What’s so important?”
“You—can’t go!” she said, short of breath. Pulling him into the parlor, she added, “What do I tell them?”
Noah