gulps. All he’d wanted was to have a nice evening with his father. Maybe start to make amends, but then Mattie Evans shows up with a plate of homemade cookies, her hair down, and smelling like sunshine in June. What was she doing here this time of night, anyway?
Prepared to find out, Gil poured two more drinks for his dad and their guest, then returned to the living room. He stopped mid-stride in the doorway.
The young woman sat on the arm of his dad’s recliner, their hands clasped and voices hushed as though sharing an intimate moment.
Gil cleared his throat and marched in with the milk. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but Dr. Evans, shouldn’t you be at the clinic taking care of my horse?”
ELEVEN
MATTIE LOOKED UP, SURPRISED BY THE QUESTION. SHE RELEASED John’s warm hands and stood. “Actually, I just bid your father good night. I wanted to tell you that Dusty is doing better. The electrolytes seemed to give him a little more energy.” Her voice remained steady. She refused to show Gil how much he’d upset her by his insinuating remark.
The man towered above her, but didn’t budge. Neither did she.
“I’m glad he’s showing progress. All the more reason for you to be there, to monitor his improvement.”
Mattie wanted to stomp on the man’s foot or punch him in the chin. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared him down instead. What was his problem, anyway? This morning, he’d been kind and helpful, bringing her biscuits. Now this?
“I’m a licensed veterinarian, but I’m not chained to my clinic twenty-four hours a day. Every once in a while, I do come up for air, shop for groceries, even visit friends if I choose.”
“Whoa, now.” John set his glass of milk on the coffee table, and she noticed how his hand shook. “I’m sure Gil’s not questioning your ethics.”
“No, but it does make me wonder about your recent losses,” Gil said. “Perhaps if you spent more time at your business instead of offering everyone snickerdoodles, you’d have a few more patients to care for.”
The jab went straight to her heart and pierced it. Gil’s words made her want to fall on her knees and weep . . . or growl and strangle someone . . . someone with a big head to match his large, athletic body.
“My presence obviously bothers you, so I’ll head out.” Mattie strained to keep her lips from trembling as she offered John a polite smile. She turned to scowl at the younger McCray. “Enjoy your cookies — and your game of chess.” She reached for the shiny black bishop that marked John’s progress and Gil’s imminent defeat and shoved it into the pompous man’s hand. With any luck, the old fellow would skunk his son in three moves.
“You know you’re always welcome in my home,” John called out when Mattie reached the front door. “This snot-nosed son of mine will be gone tomorrow, so you won’t have to tolerate his nonsense next time.”
His words sang in the foyer and brought a smile to her face. She waved good-bye, but Gil stood stiff as a soldier, like a defender of the king’s castle or something. It made her want to laugh.
The man didn’t have a clue what he was protecting, let alone whom.
GIL LEANED AGAINST THE SEAT OF THE PASSENGER PLANE AND STARED out the window at the clouds below. Jake had driven him to the airport in Wichita, and as they left Diamond Falls, they’d waited on Jimmy Thornton’s funeral procession. Among the many vehicles in the caravan, he’d noticed Dr. Evan’s white pickup. She’d apparently taken time off to attend the memorial service.
What had possessed him to harangue the doc the night before — to the point of embarrassing his father, and his father’s guest? He couldn’t say, except that it had practically knocked him off his feet to see Mattie and his dad holding hands. Earlier, she’d laughed when he’d admitted his suspicions about their relationship. Now he questioned her sincerity. Could the doc be after his father’s land? Or was she an honest-to-goodness friend? He hadn’t met many women like her, who seemed to care about the people around her — in this case, the entire community of Diamond Falls. But he’d known plenty who were hot one minute and cold the next, and it usually meant trouble.
Gil looked down at the sports magazine he’d picked up in the airport terminal and saw Green Bay’s quarterback plastered