Seducing The Proper Miss Miller

The note of genuine dismay in her voice was the only thing that penetrated his determination. He halted. “I’ll give you sixty seconds to get a signature on that.”

She hesitated, then apparently realized she didn’t have time to argue. Her jacket flapped behind her as she raced back down the hall.

Thad rubbed his forehead, then swore under his breath when his fingers brushed over the raised lump where he’d hit the tree root. He glanced through the glass windows of the double doors leading from the emergency area, noting a sign directing visitors to the elevators. When he turned back, the nurse was coming down the hall with the doctor who had initially looked him over striding behind her.

The man frowned at him. “We’re busy people around here, Mr. Shippen. I was dragged away from a seriously ill person for this.”

“So sue me.” Thad frowned right back. “If you’d signed me out of here when you saw me, I’d be out of your hair.”

The doctor ignored him, stepping forward to shine a small light into each of Thad’s eyes. “Touch your right index finger to your nose.”

“Give me a break.” But he complied.

The doctor lifted the clipboard and scribbled his name across the paper. “You should be admitted for additional observation, although you don’t seem to be concussed. I assume that hard head protected you. If you have any episodes of blurred or double vision, any feelings of vertigo or dizziness, call your doctor or come back. Change the dressings on those bums tonight and tomorrow. After that you may remove them. See a doctor if you suspect any infection.” He handed the clipboard to the nurse, who immediately dashed away again. “Any problem with that?”

Thad grinned unwillingly. “Nope. Thanks.”

The doctor grinned in return. “Now get out of here and go find your girl.”

Thad didn’t bother to answer as he banged through the double doors and headed for the elevators.

He had just punched the button for the Critical Care Unit’s floor when he heard the commotion behind him.

“That’s him! Hey, Mr. Shippen!”

“Thaddeus Shippen?”

“Mr. Shippen, give us your version of what happened in the gas explosion today.” A woman with sharp features and frosted hair stuck a microphone under his nose.

Another man raised his pencil in the air. “I’m from the Valley First Edition. Is it true that you reentered the building to rescue the church’s secretary?”

“Mr. Shippen, what were you doing at the church? Are you personally involved with Miss Chloe Miller?”

Thad sagged against the wall, wishing the elevator would hurry up. He hadn’t even thought about the press, but he guessed something like this was a national story just as that plane that had crashed right into a house over in Waynesboro a few years ago had been. He might as well get this over with or they’d only get more intrusive. The last thing he wanted was this crowd following him up to Chloe’s floor.

He smiled at the woman reporter. “This will have to be brief.”

“Certainly.” She was smooth and way too polished for him as she launched into her first question. As he answered, everyone around her was nodding and scribbling in little notepads.

“When did you first realize there was a gas leak in the church?”

He took them through a short version of what had happened. From their questions, it was obvious they had talked to the elderly woman he had escorted out before he’d gone back after Chloe.

“How does it feel to be a hero, Thad?” The newswoman lightly squeezed his arm.

Thad pulled himself away as the elevator opened. “I wouldn’t know. I just did what anybody else would have done. Sorry, folks, gotta go.”

He turned his back on the reporters and stepped into the elevator, then pushed the button for the third floor. When the door opened, he sprinted down the hall to where signs directed him to Critical Care. He wondered where the nurses’ desk was. Hospital architects must all take the same course in How to Confuse the Public. He’d never been in a hospital yet that was easy to get around.

As he turned the next corner, he came face-to-face with Reverend Miller.

Great. Mr. Holier-than-Thou.

Behind Miller was a group of people with grave-looking faces. He recognized the man who had hired him for the job at the church, as well as the woman he’d led out of the building before it blew.

“Young man!” she twittered. She leaped to her feet with amazing speed and came over to drape herself all over him. “Thank you, thank you. You saved my life!”

Thad could feel his neck getting hot. Damned if he wasn’t going to blush! “Chloe saved your life,” he corrected. “I just helped out a little bit.”

The lady didn’t miss a beat “Well, thank you, anyway, dear boy. If it hadn’t been for you, I’m sure Chloe never would have made it out of there.”

The other man, Hastings, he thought his name was, extended a hand. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Shippen. Nelda here tells me Chloe was gathering up church documents when you found her.” He indicated the bag the old gal was holding up. It was the bag Chloe had been stuffing full of discs and papers when he’d dragged her out of her office.

Thad almost smiled at the memory, but he was too worried about Chloe. “Yes, she was. Can someone tell me how she’s doing?”

Reverend Miller stepped forward. “We haven’t heard much yet. They’re doing some tests and they will let us know as soon as they know anything.” He cleared his throat and glanced away, then extended his hand to Thad. When their eyes met again, Thad could see the sheen of tears in the older man’s eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Shippen, for saving my daughter’s life. I heard that you risked your own life to go back in after her and that you carried her to safety. Chloe’s mother passed away years ago. She’s all I have. If she hadn’t gotten out...”

“What are the tests for?” Thad couldn’t take the man’s obvious grief. It reminded him too much of another time in another hospital.

“Head injuries, among other things,” Mr. Hastings said gently. “Would you like—”

“Mr. Shippen has been through quite an ordeal of his own,” Chloe’s father said. “He needs to go home and rest.”

“I’ll run him home,” Benton Hastings said.

“Just take me back to my truck,” Thad requested. “I can drive from there.”

Reverend Miller gave him a sober look. “Your truck was parked in front of the church. It was destroyed.” He put an arm around Thad’s shoulders and turned him toward the door. “Don’t worry. Our insurance will replace it for you. Thank you again for saving Chloe. Someone will call you tomorrow and update you on her condition.”

Thad started to protest, but everyone was nodding. Mr. Hastings took him by the elbow, and before Thad knew it, he’d been escorted to the man’s car for the short ride home to the old trailer in which he lived.

Two

He didn’t sleep well. Bumps and bruises in places he hadn’t even realized he had nerve endings made themselves felt throughout the night, courtesy of the blast that had thrown him to the ground. His head ached, despite the ice pack he draped over the largest lump. The spots on his back where superheated bits of debris had burned through his clothing stung and, sore as he was, he could barely reach most of them to put on the ointment from the hospital. His favorite T-shirt, washed and worn to the ultimate in comfort, had to be tossed out.

And on top of it all, he still hadn’t heard how Chloe was doing. He should have made sure she was behind him when he’d first found her in the gas-filled building. Who would have thought anybody would be dumb enough to go back into that building after a bunch of files?

Well, he had work to do. He resisted the urge to snatch up the phone and call the hospital. He’d hear soon enough how she was doing. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, no big deal. He was only interested because she was a fellow human being. She might have tripped his switch a bit more than any woman he’d met in a long time, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t live without her.

Going to the card table that served as his desk in the tiny living room, he flipped through his calendar. Now that his work on the church was a moot point, he could take on a new project.

Would the church elders still want to pay him for the work he’d done? It would probably be tacky to ask for payment, he decided regretfully. The best thing to do was to get on with another job. He called the woman who was next on his list and explained that he could start her fireplace mantel restoration sooner than expected, but she wouldn’t hear of him coming over.

“Take a day or two and rest, Thad. I’m sure you must be a bit shaken up after coming face-to-face with death. How about we start on Wednesday? And if you aren’t feeling up to it that soon, you just let me know, and we’ll postpone a bit. I feel almost guilty taking advantage of the church’s misfortune, after all.”

All right. Fine. He washed up his breakfast dishes and set them in the drainer, then made a beeline for the small cinder block garage he used for a workshop. If nobody wanted him to work, he’d spend the day on his own projects.

When the telephone on the wall rang just before lunchtime, he leaped for it. Maybe it was Chloe calling.