head, Jace stood, preparing to track the deer. He would find out the truth soon enough, though with a wounded deer, one could never be certain as to how soon that might be. Mrs. Tremont was in dire need of protein. Since the old woman had no husband or sons, Jace would do what he must to provide it.
It had taken only one house call to discover that the duties of the country doctor entailed catering to each patient on a more personal level than was possible with the human wreckage he’d treated at Pittsburgh Hospital. Although his office had yet to open officially, he already knew the hell of the emergency ward—and the endless misery that flowed through its wide double doors—was a stark contrast to a small-town practice. He could make a real difference in Misty Lake, and not just to the wealthy summer visitors. Here he’d have the time to focus on each patient case without the patch-them-up-and-ship-them-out approach of the hospital. The change would be just what he needed to replenish his spirit from the toll of the daily tragedy that had sucked him dry.
Inhaling deeply, he forged past the memory of his internship in the city and the suffocating despair that came along with it. The pine-scented breeze coursed through his senses, anchoring him back to the present. The beauty of his current surroundings lifted his mood. There was nothing like a walk in the woods and reconnecting with nature to remind him that he was alive.
Perhaps if he’d found some comparable diversion from his rote existence in the city, he might have fared better there. Not that it mattered now. He’d made a decision to build a practice in the country, and he intended to succeed come hell or high water. Even so, he knew that, as a stranger, he should expect some initial hostility and skepticism from Misty Lake’s residents. Miss Sutter had merely acted upon the resentment that a lot of her neighbors were nursing privately.
Swatting at a horsefly, he took a few steps in the direction in which the deer had bolted, searching the ground for the blood trail that would lead to his prey. Bloody hoof prints led from the scene. Hunching down for a closer look, he followed the tracks to a birch log, scanning the ground as he moved. “What the…?”
Not a single droplet of blood lay anywhere in the vicinity of the tracks. Had the deer’s wound simply stopped bleeding? He scratched his head, glancing around. The blood flow might have ebbed somewhat, but to cut off entirely without leaving a trace? Preposterous. There had to be a logical explanation. There always was. As a man of science, Jace was curious to know what the devil that explanation was.
He inspected the peeling bark on the decaying log, then saw something flutter on the ground behind it. He reached for the discarded leaf of paper trapped in the weeds. Miss Sutter’s? He collected the thing, then read with interest the letter that was, indeed, addressed to Madeline Sutter.
The past is the past, my dear friend, and you must lay it to rest. Eventually, the town will follow suit.
Who was this strange woman he’d encountered in the middle of nowhere? The woman who refused to attend her friend’s wedding, but had no qualms about dislodging an arrow from a wild animal or ordering a man twice her size off her property?
Madeline Sutter intrigued him, and few women accomplished that feat. Jace looked forward to meeting her again. He glanced toward the path through the field. Locating her residence wouldn’t be difficult. And her dropped letter gave him the perfect excuse to pay her a visit. For the moment, though, he had a deer to track in the opposite direction.
He gathered his things, then headed into the woods. When he returned to town, he would ask around about his latest acquaintance. Whoever she was, he couldn’t wait to find out more.
Chapter 2
Thankfully, the house was quiet when Maddie returned home. Since it was Saturday, Rhetta would be elbow-deep in laundry, and the echo of Gil’s axe confirmed he was splitting wood out back. Grandfather took his daily nap promptly at noon, so Maddie was confident she could make it to her room undetected. She needed to change her clothes, as she hadn’t the energy to explain her bloodstained dress either to her grandfather or to the loyal household staff.
Despite her aching leg, she raced up the wide staircase to her room at the end of the hall. Closing the door quietly behind her, she exhaled in relief. Sunlight poured through the windows, drenching her in golden warmth. Inside this room she always felt safe. During her recovery, she’d spent months confined to her bed, staring at the walls of her private infirmary until she knew each tiny rosette on the floral wallpaper, each curve of the glossy wood molding by heart. This room knew her just as well, for it had seen her at her worst.
The plush carpet had cushioned the impact of the numerous falls she’d suffered while forcing her shattered leg to support her weight, despite Doctor Filmore’s orders to accept her lameness and resign herself to using a cane. The down pillows on the brass bed had absorbed her tears of pain and frustration when she’d feared he might be right. They’d muffled her screaming nightmares and cradled her head while she’d cried herself back to sleep. The thick draperies had shielded her from the world outside and the light of day she’d been too despondent to face.
In the safety of this room and the familiar furnishings, time stood still. Memories of her life before the accident, the friends and the moments she missed so much, lingered like cobwebs in every corner. Within the solitude of these walls, she could revel in the happy memories and wallow in the ugly ones without moving forward. This room held her past. Her lost dreams. Her secrets.
After undressing quickly, Maddie balled up the soiled dress and shoes and stuffed them into a pillowcase. She pushed the bundle into the back of the tall armoire, then closed it tight. She’d discard the mess at the first opportunity. Of course, Rhetta wouldn’t make the task easy. The vigilant maid didn’t miss a trick, but Maddie would concoct some way to dispose of the evidence.
She scrubbed her hands, then changed into a clean day dress and shoes. Exhausted, she plopped into the large chair by the window. The ache in her leg had intensified, but she’d grown used to the chronic pain. Leaning back in the chair, she closed her eyes. Her thoughts returned to Doctor Merrick. Jace. Her breath hitched. The vivid picture of his striking face filled her mind. Thoughts of his muscular body quickly followed.
For a moment in the forest, through eyes untainted by the story of her past, he had noticed her as a woman. She’d sensed his awareness—that certain glint that sparked in men’s eyes when they saw something they liked. Of course their squabble about the deer had quickly doused that spark, but she’d felt his brief attraction nonetheless.
It had been ages since a man had looked at her that way. And twice as long since she’d enjoyed it. The unexpected encounter reminded her how much she missed the attention—how truly starved she was for it. Even now, she found herself savoring that morsel of a moment and how delicious she had felt in the warmth of his desire.
Maddie opened her eyes, frowning. Why on earth was she still thinking of the man? He was a doctor. A threat. She supposed it might be this very fear of him that attracted her. She’d seen the doubt in his intelligent eyes when she fed him her story about the wounded deer. The way he’d analyzed the bloody arrow spoke of a man who questioned things, a man who sought answers. A man who’d do what he must to get them.
For all she knew, he was still trudging through the woods, trying to track the animal. She’d sent him on a fool’s errand when he was attempting to help Mrs. Tremont, and she couldn’t ignore her nagging guilt for his wasted effort.
For the first time after using her gift, Maddie questioned her actions. She’d never before considered the possibility that her strange skills might hurt others as much as help them. She’d never given it much thought at all. Instead she’d acted emotionally, by instinct, when she’d revived the deer, and the sparrow that had
