The Doctor Delivers. Judy Christenberry

what had awakened her. The late afternoon sun was pouring into the room from the opened draperies. Was that what had bothered her? Or had there been a noise?

      Immediately, fear filled her. Was the doctor there? Had that man returned? Or maybe the phone had rung. Maybe Emily had called and she’d missed it.

      She sat up in the bed, still tired, but a little more awake.

      “Dr. Hathaway?” she called, and waited anxiously for him to open the bedroom door. Relief poured through her when he did. She checked her watch. It was just after four o’clock. She was going to owe him a whopping bill for round-the-clock care.

      “How are you feeling?” he asked, smiling at her.

      Such a handsome man. It would be easy to have him around, she decided, to look at if nothing else. “Fine. Has anyone called?”

      “Nope. Oh, I take that back. Your mother called, but she didn’t want to talk to me.” He grinned like a little boy who’d done a magic trick. “She hung up.”

      She couldn’t help smiling back. Making her mother disappear would be a magic trick indeed. Cynthia normally traveled with Liza, but she’d been negotiating an appearance on a talk show in Chicago and had left her here in Saratoga Springs.

      “Anyone else?”

      “Nope. I didn’t awaken you for lunch. Are you hungry?” he asked, watching her.

      She laughed, her voice a little shaky, still with a huskiness that wasn’t normal. “I think all you try to do is fill me up with food.”

      “Well, so far I haven’t done such a good job. You missed lunch. Why don’t you slip on your slacks and we’ll go to the restaurant downstairs.”

      “No! I mean, I need to be here in case I get any calls,” she whispered, avoiding his eyes.

      He left the door and walked over to her bed, sitting down on the edge as he’d done in the hospital.

      “Before we make any decisions about dinner, I think you’d better answer a question for me.”

      She supposed she owed him that at least, since he’d done so much for her. With a hesitant nod, she watched him.

      “Who is Mrs. Tremble?”

      Four

      He could feel the tension rise even without touching her. He wanted to assure her to forget his question, that it was important for her to relax. But he also wanted to be sure he wasn’t helping her break any laws. So he waited.

      “You promised you wouldn’t tell,” she reminded him.

      “I won’t help you break the law, Liza.”

      She shook her head. “I’m not—I wouldn’t do that.”

      “Then answer my question.”

      She hesitated again. Finally, she said, “I think it’s Emily.”

      “Your cousin? The one you believe was kidnapped? Why didn’t you tell the police?” He frowned at her.

      “I…it’s complicated.”

      “How?”

      “I’m not sure it’s her, and if it is, I don’t know what her situation is now.”

      “How could her situation be worsened by the police knowing?” he asked. “Surely you don’t suspect the police would harm her?”

      “No,” she whispered, “but they might make her go back home.”

      Her answer gave him pause and raised a lot more questions. “So you think someone in the family caused the problem?”

      She shrugged her shoulders and looked away from him.

      “Liza, you’re not making sense.”

      She faced him this time, but her eyes had pools of tears in them. “That’s the problem. No one will believe her if—if what I think happened is true. No one.”

      “No one but you.”

      “Doctor—”

      “I think it’s time you called me Nick, Liza. We’ve passed way beyond the doctor-patient relationship.” More than he wanted, he assured himself. He should just leave, but he couldn’t. She was too alone, too defenseless.

      “I know I’ve become a real burden, Nick, and I appreciate all you’ve done for me.”

      “Yeah, well, let’s get back to the subject. Why are you the only one who believes this Emily?”

      “Because her story doesn’t make sense.”

      Nick gave a heavy sigh and rubbed his face before looking at her again. “Look, Liza, I’m trying to help you, but you’re not giving me much to work with.”

      “You’re right,” she said with a smile that didn’t hold a lot of warmth. Sitting up a little straighter in the bed, she said, “I’m sorry I’ve taken up so much of your time. I’ll call your office and leave an address to mail your bill.”

      Feeling like the kitten he’d been cuddling had suddenly grown claws, he stared at her. “You want me to leave?”

      “I can’t explain the situation to you, so I understand why you wouldn’t want to be involved.”

      Frustrated, he stood, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Fine. I’m sure you— Damn it, Liza, what are you going to do? I can’t leave you here alone. What if that man comes back? Do you want me to call Detective Ramsey and have him assign a guard?”

      “No! I’ll—I’ll manage on my own.”

      “Sure! All ninety pounds of you,” he growled.

      “I weigh more than that,” she objected.

      “Are you going back to New York?”

      Slowly she shook her head, as if making her decisions as they arose with no prior planning. “No, I don’t think so.”

      He studied her, trying to think what to do. Slowly, he said, “I think you should disappear.”

      “What?”

      “If you had a place to go where no one would find you, except Emily, assuming Mrs. Tremble is Emily, that would be best, wouldn’t it? Just for a few days.”

      “But I don’t know of anywhere,” she said, her voice almost a whisper again.

      He sat back down on the edge of the bed. “But I do. Someplace where you’ll be safe and have someone to keep an eye on you until you feel better.”

      “Where?” she asked, frowning.

      “My house.”

      Her green eyes huge, she pushed against the back of the bed, putting as much space between them as possible. “I won’t live with you. You’ve been kind, but I don’t— Sex isn’t part of the bargain, Dr. Hathaway.”

      Liza stared at the handsome man sitting beside her, suddenly feeling much more vulnerable. She’d slid off her slacks for her nap. Now she wished she hadn’t done so.

      His reaction to her words was interesting. Under a light tan, his cheeks were red.

      “That’s not what I meant!” he assured her.

      She lifted her chin and waited.

      “I have a housekeeper, Mrs. Allen, and a large house that I’m redoing. There’s lots of room, and Bonnie— Mrs. Allen—is always complaining because I don’t entertain. You could move into the guest quarters, and she’d have someone to fuss over.”

      “No, thank you.” She kept her response quiet, not wanting to even hint at the response her body was making. It had been a long time since she’d felt any interest in the opposite sex.