up at him, then was sorry. He was too close for her state of mind. The tiny refrigerator was at her back, and he filled the narrow confines between the desk and the wall. She couldn’t walk away without brushing against him, and she wouldn’t do that. She had to say something.
“I worked in Pittsburgh for a time after I finished school, but I never got rid of my longing for the mountains. Button Gap felt like home to me, and I heard the county needed someone to run the clinic. So I came. End of story.”
“It’s a nice story.” His voice had lowered to a baritone rumble that did funny things to her. His fingers brushed hers. “You’re a dedicated person, Maggie.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Warmth seemed to emanate from his touch, flowing through her. She wanted to lean into him and feel that warmth encircle her.
She couldn’t.
What she’d told him wasn’t the whole story, and a large part of her particular story wasn’t nice at all.
That was just one more reason why she shouldn’t be letting herself feel anything at all when Grant was around. Unfortunately, that seemed easier said than done, especially when he looked at her with what might be admiration in his eyes.
“Grant, I—”
The door sounded, flooding her with relief. He moved, and she slipped around him. Aunt Elly came toward them. The heavy wool jacket she wore had probably belonged to her late husband, and she carried a basket over her arm, with a napkin tucked over something that smelled of cinnamon.
“Those aren’t cinnamon buns, are they?” Maggie leaned against the counter, smiling in welcome.
Movement beyond the plate-glass window caught her eye, and the smile faded. A county sheriff’s car pulled into the parking space in front of the clinic.
She felt instantly guilty, and it didn’t do any good to tell herself that the presence of the sheriff’s car meant nothing. It might well mean trouble if Grant was here when the occupant of that car came inside.
She rounded the counter quickly, taking Aunt Elly’s arm.
“You’re just in time to see the doctor.” She glanced meaningfully at the car, then back at Aunt Elly’s face. “Keep him busy,” she mouthed.
Aunt Elly followed her gaze, startled, then nodded. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “That’s good. I want to talk to the doc about my knee.”
“You go on back.” She yanked open the file drawer to pull out Aunt Elly’s chart and hand it to Grant. “Dr. Hardesty’s coming right now.”
Only Grant’s slightly lifted eyebrows indicated he thought she was rushing them. He took Aunt Elly’s arm, and together they disappeared into the exam room.
Just in time. As the exam room door closed, the front door opened. Deputy Sheriff Gus Foster ambled toward the desk.
At least the sheriff’s department had sent someone she knew. Thank You, Lord.
“Hey, there, Maggie, how’s life treating you?” Gus lifted the dark felt hat from his white hair. With his snowy hair and beard and his comfortably round stomach, Gus visited the Button Gap schoolchildren as Santa every year.
“Fine, Gus. And yourself?” The formalities had to be gotten through before Gus would get to the reason for his visit, but her stomach tightened with the fear that Grant would come back out for some reason.
“Can’t complain.” He leaned against the desk. “Hear you’ve got a new doc.”
She nodded. “From Baltimore. Just until Christmas.” Had they’d chatted enough? It felt like her nerves were rubbed raw. “What brings you in to see us?”
“Well, now.” A shade of reluctance, maybe even embarrassment, touched Gus’s ruddy face. “It’s this way. We had a call from Mrs. Hadley.”
Maggie’s stomach lurched. Mrs. Hadley, head of the county’s social services department, wouldn’t have called the sheriff’s office for fun. Her thoughts flickered to the Bascom kids, safely tucked away with retired teacher Emily Davison for the afternoon, except for Joey, who was in school.
“What does she want now?” She tried to keep both face and voice expressionless.
“Now, Maggie, I know the two of you don’t get along. Reckon I know why, too. But I can’t ignore her when she calls.” He gave a wry grin. “Leastways, not unless I want her trampling over my head again.”
“If you know how she is—”
“I’ve got a job to do,” he said with heavy finality. “Mrs. Hadley’s had her eye on Nella Bascom and her kids. She stopped by to see them a couple of times and didn’t find anybody home. She wants to know what’s going on.”
Her heart sank. She’d been hoping against hope that the woman had enough to do without running all the way up to Button Gap. She’d prayed that no official notice would be taken of Nella’s absence before she was back home with her kids.
“Why did you come to me?” She tried to sound unconcerned.
Gus didn’t look convinced. “Everybody knows you’ve been helping Nella get by since that no-count husband of hers sent himself to perdition by crashing the logging truck. I figured you might know something.”
She could tell him Nella had gone away for a few days, leaving the kids with her, but that would only lead to more questions. “I don’t.” Another lie.
I’m sorry, Lord. I don’t want to lie, but what choice do I have? Mrs. Hadley would snatch those kids away in a minute. Nobody knows that better than I do.
“What business is it of Mrs. Hadley’s what the Bascoms do, anyway?”
“Now, Maggie. The way I see it, if something comes to my notice, official-like, I’d have to do something about it. If not, well, I don’t.”
Her tension eased. “Thanks, Gus.”
“I’m not saying I know anything. But you want to be careful.”
The exam room door opened, and a wave of panic raced through her. “I’ll be careful.” She rounded the desk, wanting to hurry Gus out.
He straightened, immovable. “You know as well as I do that those paper-pushers at the county seat would just as soon close down the free clinic if somebody gave them a reason.”
“Close down?” Grant stalked into the outer office, frowning. “What’s going on? Can I help you, Officer?”
Maggie looked at Aunt Elly, who gave a helpless gesture seeming to indicate that she’d done everything she could to hold him back.
“Nothing’s going on,” she said. “Dr. Hardesty, this is Deputy Sheriff Foster. Gus is an old Button Gap boy, just stopping in to say hi.”
Gus extended his hand. “Welcome to Button Gap, Doc. Hope you enjoy your stay here.”
“I’ll enjoy it more if I don’t hear talk about closing down the clinic,”
