storefronts and flowering plants hung from light posts. This went on for one block but the next started showing the neglected look of the earlier ones.
What the...?
Just ahead of him a group of males who wore their pants low on their hips and matching bandannas on their biceps stood aggressively facing a woman in front of a three-story brownstone. The woman was Ashley Marsh. Kiefer recognized her from a couple of TV interviews he’d seen since his return.
The best he could tell, she was a crusader of the highest order. As a child of someone who took on causes—sometimes to her own detriment—he was weary of what Ashley’s plans might be. In her interviews he’d found her articulate and intelligent, if not a little antagonistic for his taste.
Kiefer wasn’t particularly impressed. He believed in helping people—after all, that was why he’d become a doctor—but he also expected people to help themselves. Not everyone could be saved. Sometimes people were just not worth it.
What he knew of Ashley Marsh reminded Kiefer too much of his mother. That “help everyone, all people are good” view of life made Kiefer a little leery of Ashley Marsh. Advocates often saw the picture through rose-colored glasses. Ms. Marsh struck him as being that type of person. If he were ever interested in a woman again it wouldn’t be in someone who didn’t show more restraint where people were concerned.
As he drew closer he could see that Ashley was talking to the group, gesturing with her hands.
One of the young men made an aggressive move forward. To her credit, she didn’t back away.
Kiefer’s hands tightened on the wheel. All the ugly memories of a day so long ago, when his mother had been attacked, came flooding back. The man off the street, his mother begging him not to kill her, his mother falling to the floor, the man going through her purse and Kiefer watching it all helplessly through the slats of the pantry door. He’d sworn then he would never again stand idly by while someone was being threatened.
His tires squealed as he quickly pulled into a parking lot next to the building. The group turned toward him. At least their attention was drawn away from Alderman Marsh. Kiefer hopped out and circled the truck, putting himself between her and the gang.
“Hey, man, who’re you?” growled the man Kiefer had pegged as the leader of the group. His dark hair was long and pulled back in a band. He wore a hoop in his ear.
“Dr. Kiefer Bradford. I’m the new clinic doctor.”
“We don’t need no more outsiders here.”
Ashley sidestepped Kiefer. He put his arm out to stop her without taking his eyes off the men in front of him. He felt more than saw her move around him and he dropped his arm in frustration.
“I can handle this,” she announced in a firm tone, confronting the guy in front of Kiefer. “Look, Marko, the clinic is to help the people around here, not to spy on you. What if your mother or sister needed medical care? Don’t you want them to have a place to get it? This will be a no-questions-asked place.”
It would be? That was the first Kiefer had heard of that.
“We don’t need...” Marko lifted his chin toward Kiefer “...no outsiders coming into our neighborhood.”
“This is my home as much as it is yours,” Ashley stated. “I’ve known your family all your life. I used to change your diapers.”
A couple of Marko’s buddies snickered. He glanced at them. Their faces sobered. “All your do-gooding isn’t going to work,” Marko said to Ashley.
“I’m trying to make the community better. The clinic is the first step in doing that.”
“Yeah, right, it’s your way of trying to change everything.” He spit on the ground then scowled. “I run this ’hood, and if I don’t want you or your clinic, you’ll be gone.”
Kiefer took a step forward. “Don’t threaten the lady.”
Marko glowered at him. “Back off, mister, or you’ll regret it.”
A couple of Marko’s thugs moved toward him.
Ashley pulled at Kiefer’s arm, preventing him from going toward Marko. “He isn’t worth it.”
The horn of a police car had Marko’s gang scrambling, each running in a different direction and disappearing into the dwindling light.
“Is there a problem here?” the patrolman asked out the car window.
Ashley left Kiefer’s side and went to the car. “No, we’re fine, Carl.”
Carl looked at Kiefer and raised his chin. “Who’s this guy?”
“This is Dr. Bradford, the new director of the clinic.”
Kiefer nodded.
“Good to have you, Doc,” Carl said. “Never a dull moment in Southriver.”
“I’m finding that out.”
“Carl, don’t run him off before he even gets started,” Ashley said with a half laugh.
“Sorry, Alderman, that wasn’t my intention. Y’all have a good evening.” Carl’s partner drove the car on down the street.
After all the excitement Kiefer took a really good look at the woman beside him. Beneath the streetlight she wasn’t at all like the person on TV, more like a college coed and less like a hard-nosed politician. Of average height, with midnight-black hair she wore pulled back in a ponytail. Her jeans had holes in them; not as a fashion statement but from actual use would be his guess.
His attention went to her tight T-shirt, which did nothing to hide the generous breasts but, in fact, drew attention to them with “not here you don’t” written across them. What captured his attention was the necklace lying between her breasts. It was the same one that the woman he’d kissed on St. Patrick’s Day had been wearing.
He looked into her dark eyes. Yes, those were the ones. He’d thought of that kiss and these very eyes many times since then.
“You!”
Ashley gave him a quizzical look. “Yes. Me.”
She didn’t recognize him. But why should she? He’d worn a mask.
* * *
Ashley put her hands on her hips and glared at the man before her. “What were you thinking?”
He blinked a couple of times as if he’d forgotten where he was. “What do you mean?”
Dr. Bradford looked truly perplexed. As if he couldn’t imagine creating a situation that both she and he couldn’t get out of. Marko wasn’t someone to mess with. “Jumping in between Marko and me. I had things under control.”
“Yeah, I could see that. Six against one is always a fair number. I was only trying to help.”
What was it about his voice? Had she heard it before? That rich tone sounded so familiar. “You weren’t. If anything, you were
