resting against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest. Even his forearms were well muscled.
She pulled her gaze away, focusing on the package again. “I’ll open it later. I need to print a couple of things for Seth. Set up his next few appointments, okay? Then run the sonogram on Edith’s knee. We’ll start her on the treadmill when you’re finished.”
She didn’t wait for Dana’s response, just hurried into Sam’s oversize office. As a part-time employee, she didn’t have her own space, but Sam had given her free use of his.
She set the package on his desk, doing her best to ignore it as she booted up the computer and found the exercises she wanted to print. No one sent her packages. Getting one on the fifth anniversary of Daniel’s death seemed...ominous.
She shut the thought down, jotting a few notes in Seth’s file as the printer ran. Crisp winter sun poured in through the window behind her. But it couldn’t warm the chill that filled her heart.
Five years, but she could still hear the wails of terrified children, still feel the blazing African sun, still smell the blood.
She gagged, stepping away from the desk and the package, and wishing she could step away from the memories.
Just then, the package moved, something inside of it scratching against the box. Tessa jumped back, knocked into a rock-hard chest and swung around, a scream dying on her lips as she looked into Seth’s vivid-blue eyes.
“Careful.”
Seth held his newest physical therapist’s arm and looked into her misty-green eyes. Her skin had gone three shades of pale, and she looked as if she was about to jump out of her skin. Based on the way she was eyeing the package Dana had handed her, he’d say it had something to do with whatever was in it.
“You’re supposed to be setting up appointments with Dana,” she snapped, her eyes flashing with irritation and something else. Something that looked an awful lot like fear.
Leave it alone, his brain warned, but he’d never been all that good at taking orders.
“I already did. Now I need the printouts so I can get on with my day.” He touched the box, his curiosity piqued. “What’s this?”
“A wrapped box,” she responded dryly, grabbing a few pages from a printer and thrusting them toward him. “Here are the exercises. I’ll see you next week.”
Her dismissal couldn’t have been more obvious, but Seth wasn’t quite ready to go. Tessa and her mystery box were way more interesting than desk duty, and that’s what he’d be heading for when he left her office.
He tucked the printouts into his coat pocket and lifted the box. It was light and just a little off balance, as if whatever was in it fit in one corner, leaving the rest of the space empty.
“Put that down,” she said without looking away from her computer.
“You seem a little jumpy about it.”
“It’s nothing you need to worry about.” She reached for the package, her fingers brushing the paper. Something skittered along the bottom of the box. Seth felt the movement through cardboard and paper. Tessa must have, too. She jerked her hand back.
He set the box down. “There’s something alive in here.”
Tessa made no move to lift it. “It seems that way.”
“You don’t know what it is?”
“No.” She tucked a loose strand of deep red hair behind her ear and sighed. “Look, Seth, I don’t want to be rude, but I have another patient waiting and—”
“Dana is in with her.” He lifted the box again, examining the envelope taped to its top. “There’s no return address. It’s not even postmarked. Someone hand delivered it.”
“You’re probably right.” Tessa didn’t seem impressed by his deductive reasoning, and she didn’t look happy that he hadn’t left. She didn’t reach for the box, though, and he thought that she’d be relieved if he took the initiative and looked inside.
“I spent a fair amount of time in the desert, and I’ve dealt with a lot of critters. Why don’t you let me see what’s in here? If it’s something you don’t want, I’ll dispose of it.”
“What if it’s a snake?” she asked, hovering close to Seth’s side. He could feel the heat of her arm through his coat sleeve, could smell a hint of vanilla in the air.
“The box isn’t big enough. Besides, snakes don’t skitter. They slide.”
“How...comforting.” She offered a brief smile, a dimple flashing in her left cheek.
“I don’t mind snakes,” he said, pulling the envelope from the box and handing it to Tessa. “It’s scorpions I despise.”
“I’ll take a scorpion over a cobra any day of the week.” She ripped the envelope open and pulled out a white note card.
“What’s it say?”
“Today’s date.” She turned it over so that he could see the numbers scrawled in thick, black marker.
“Maybe there’s a note in the box.” He pulled out his utility knife and eased the tip under the wrapping paper. “Better tell me now if you don’t want me to do this.”
She remained silent, and he slid the knife blade under the box lid.
“What if it jumps out at you?” Tessa moved closer, her shoulder pressed against his arm.
His muscles tensed in response. Dormant memories sprang to life of a hundred moments spent with the only woman he’d ever loved.
He forced them away and flipped the box lid up. Better to look in the box than to look at the past.
“What is—”
Tessa’s voice trailed off as two long, brown legs reached over the side of the box, the hairy exoskeleton as recognizable as it was surprising. Seth had seen his share of tarantulas. This one was bigger than most, its legs retreating as it scurried into a corner of its prison. A white envelope lay beneath it.
Seth reached to retrieve it, but Tessa grabbed his arm. “Just leave it.”
“Don’t you want to know who it’s from?”
“It was sent to me by mistake.”
“Your name was on the box.”
“I’m sure there are plenty of people in the world with my name.” She smiled, but her face had gone paper-white again, her eyes emerald against the pallor.
“You’re scared.”
“I don’t like spiders any more than I like snakes.”
“I don’t think that’s the reason.” He shut the box lid, leaned his hip against the desk. “I think you should call the police, and let them know that this was sent to you.”
“It’s
