Eye of the Storm - By Hannah Alexander Page 0,18
he needed to be sure she was okay because he already felt a kinship to her. Probably everyone else did too. She reminded him of Megan. A person couldn’t miss the kindness in her voice.
He studied the outside of the clinic as he reached for the exterior door. Someone had attached security cameras to the outer corners of the building, and when he stepped through the interior entrance he noticed two more. Someone had money to spare, but who thought it necessary to install security in Jolly Mill? Maybe he would need to check out some of the risks before he made any decisions about future plans in this location.
Two women stood talking softly in the middle of the waiting room when he entered. The older woman with interesting green eyes and a blond ponytail stepped forward with a smile. “You must be Mr. Vance, of the Vance Rescue Mission.” She had the drawl of someone from much farther south.
“Yes, ma’am. You can call me Gerard.”
“Your reputation precedes you.” She held out her hand. “I’m Carmen Delaney, a longtime friend of Megan’s, and of Kirstie’s…and of pretty much everyone else in Jolly Mill.”
He took the proffered hand. “I know Megan’s a good friend to have. I believe Kirstie is too.”
Carmen nodded, casting a quick glance toward the other, younger woman with the dark mess of hair and dark eyes who stood staring at him. “Megan’s always spoken highly of you. To hear her tell it, you’re Mother Teresa in a very nice—” she paused and gave him a once-over “—excellent male form.”
He smiled and focused on not blushing, then studied the younger woman with the curious gaze. The troubled gaze. If this was who he suspected her to be, Megan was keeping her secrets and so was Kirstie. And the young woman probably felt she had good reason to distrust any male right now since, according to Kirstie, she’d been betrayed by the two most important men in her life.
“I came to make sure Kirstie’s okay,” he said. “I was with Megan when she received the call this morning.”
Two pairs of eyes widened, and he realized Megan had good reason to avoid him. He did not have the grace and poise of his sister, or even his brother, for that matter. The call had come at six—not a time one typically entertained polite company.
“I arrived here from Texas early this morning,” he explained, silently commanding the heat to avoid his face. “When Megan worked for me at the mission, she had a reputation for arising before dawn to study for an hour before coming to work. I hadn’t realized she’d changed her habits.” He gestured to the brown-red splotches on the floor. “Is Kirstie okay?”
“For someone who ran barefoot through the woods last night and took a swim with the trout this morning, I’d say she’s holding up pretty well,” Carmen told him, then gestured to the dark-haired younger woman. “We call the mannequin Lynley.”
The woman beside her blinked then gave Carmen a frown. “I’m Kirstie’s daughter,” Lynley told him, not bothering to offer him her hand or even a smile.
“And Megan’s best friend since babyhood, according to Megan,” Gerard said.
“You’ll have to excuse her,” Carmen told him. “It’s a little early in the day for her to make small talk with an Adonis.”
Lynley shot Carmen a hot look. “Sorry. It’s been a long night. Carmen was just getting ready to make some coffee.” She gave the blonde another look. “Weren’t you?”
Carmen held the look for a long, rebellious moment, but she finally excused herself with another quick and extremely friendly smile at Gerard.
He grinned. There were times when he wouldn’t mind gaining a few years. He’d found that many women past forty had worked through some snags of deceit and vanity of earlier adulthood, and had learned to express themselves with more honesty.
He’d found it invigorating that Megan didn’t have a problem with vanity, which was a good thing because her professional ability and intelligence were always going to be challenged by the impact of her beauty, no matter how old she got.
She didn’t typically practice deceit either. The major deceit she was practicing right now was on herself. That disturbed him.
Lynley sank into the closest chair with a quiet sigh and a slight aroma of fish. A little less statuesque than Megan, she had an economy of movement that fit a good nurse like a second skin and an air of serious worry that never helped a thing.
“My