locket. “The job, Doctor Drake… What about the job? I can assure you that I would be a good—”
“Where did you get that?” He took one step closer, craning his neck to get a better look. The fine, detailed filigree and etched scrolling shone even in the dim light, a testament to his father’s talent.
She slid back a step. “Get what?”
“The locket.” He nodded toward the object, forcing himself to remain calm.
“This locket is no concern of yours.” She flattened both hands over the locket, her dress slipping down to a brazenly improper draping.
He clenched his jaw tight, furious that his dear mother’s locket hung from this woman’s neck.
“And it certainly has nothing to do with my being here. Like I said, I’m here about the job.”
“Oh, it doesn’t?” He gave a sarcastic laugh, infuriated at her bold censorship. “Funny thing, that locket. It looks just like one I once had.”
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken. This was a gift given to me. There’s no way it could belong to you.” She coughed again, glancing over her shoulder toward the door. “Now, about the Help Wanted sign.”
He shifted his focus to the door, suspicion creeping up his spine, and setting his hair on end. What if Max lurked out there? Waiting for her? Maybe this was all just some ploy to make off with more money.
That possibility had Ben’s blood boiling red-hot.
Resisting the urge to open the door and see for himself, Ben stepped closer to Callie. “Forget about the job for now, ma’am. Where did you get that locket?”
She balled her fist around the locket, inching away. “I told you, it was a gift.”
He pinned her with an intense stare. “Who gave it to you?”
When her sunken eyes widened with the smallest hint of fear, a subtle sting of remorse pricked his conscience. He’d never spoken like this to a woman—ever. Even if she was a conniving thief sent by Max, she was a thin, sickly, delicately beautiful one, and he could’ve gone a little easier on her.
She drew her lips into a silent, grim line.
“My mother gave me that locket twelve years ago,” he said evenly, determined to remain controlled. “On her deathbed.”
Her fine features creased in a frown.
“The last time I saw it was just before my brother Max took off with some harlot over seven years ago. Do you know Max? Is he out there now?” he probed with a brisk nod toward the door.
Callie opened her hands. Slammed her gaze down to the silver locket, and for a split second he thought he saw her perfectly shaped lips quiver.
That worked the slightest bit of unwanted softening in his heart. He’d rather disregard the vulnerability he saw there, but try as he might, he couldn’t banish the pathetic image of this woman huddled on his porch. Clad in nothing more than dirty rags. Doomed to freeze to death had he not come along.
“Let me put it this way.” He took a step back and held his hand out. “That rightfully belongs to me.”
Panic shuttered her eyes. “But I—”
She blinked with deliberate concentration, once, twice, her face paling as white as the stark snow whipping through the valley. She sidestepped. Teetered like some piece of fine china hanging over the edge of a high shelf.
When her eyes began a slow roll back, Ben lunged forward, catching up her light frame just before she hit the floor.
Callie draped limp in his arms, her hand slowly slipping from the locket and flopping down toward the floor. From the way her body burned with fever, she’d be here for a while. And despite her interest in the Help Wanted sign, he was positive that she hadn’t come here for a job.
Chapter Two
Callie struggled to force open her heavy eyelids. She stared through a fuzzy haze up at the ceiling. Pain pounded her head. Her eyes burned, but still she inched her gaze around the room, trying to remember where she was.
Bits and pieces came to her… Trudging through the snowstorm, huddled and waiting on a porch. Strong, capable arms holding her…
A strangely familiar man, tall and dark-haired, came into focus next to her.
She shot up in bed. Regretted it instantly when her head spun and her stomach roiled.
“Whoa there, miss.” Ben eased her shoulders back to the feather mattress. “Not so fast.”
“I need to get up.” She weakly wriggled from his unsettling touch.
Sighing, he crossed his arms at his chest. “I would strongly advise against doing anything of the sort. You’re in no condition.”
When she looked up at him, the world spun out of control. She closed her eyes and hoped he wasn’t observant enough to notice her condition, because the absolute last thing she wanted was to look feeble and needy in front of this man.
“Seeing as how I’m not your patient, I believe that I’m more than capable of making my own decisions.” She pulled her chin up a notch, wincing at the thin, raspy sound of her voice.
“Like it or not, you’re my patient now.”
Averting her focus from his steel-blue gaze, she recalled fainting. And just before that, she’d been arguing with this man over—
“My locket! Where is it?” Dragging herself up to her elbows, she scanned the room. “And my box! Where did you put my things?”
When she spotted her box snuggled in the old flour sack atop the bureau, she tried to quell the frantic beat of her heart. But the idea that this man could’ve taken the few possessions she had left in this world seized her heart with utter, unexplainable panic.
At the cool touch of silver against her chest, she discovered the locket was where it had always been and dropped back to the pillow.
“You see.” Ben drew his mouth into a grim line. “The locket’s still there. Around your neck.”
Peering down at her chest just to make sure, she screeched. “My dress!” She jerked the quilt clear up to her chin, being clad in nothing more than her paper-thin chemise and threadbare drawers. “Did you—”
A violent cough had her bracing herself, but she still managed to glower at him. “You undressed me without my consent? How dare you!”
His steady gaze didn’t flicker an ounce. “Your dress was soaking wet, ma’am, and the weather prohibited me from summoning my sister-in-law’s help as I usually would have.”
“But still, I—”
“You’re not the first woman I’ve tended to and you won’t be the last. It was in your best interest that I get you as warm and dry as possible. And I can assure you that I honored your modesty in every possible way.”
