The Doctor's Perfect Match

“About my things. How can I be sure the bank won’t take the van before I can get my clothes and all my other stuff out of there?”

Sighing, Leland brought the car to a halt and pulled out his cell phone to make a phone call. She listened to his end of the conversation with some satisfaction and no little envy.

“Nothing like cl-out,” she quipped, giving the last word two syllables.

“The van will be there when we go to pick up your things tomorrow,” Leland assured her dryly.

“Thank you,” she returned crisply, turning her gaze to the side. “And you’re sure this is a private home? I mean, how many houses have names?”

He chuckled. “It’s a private home, occupied by four older people in their seventies. One of the triplets is married. They have a live-in staff of three as well, but they have quarters out back in the carriage house.”

“Triplets?” Eva echoed, laughing.

“Didn’t I say? The three sisters are triplets.”

“They aren’t identical, are they?”

He grinned. “Don’t worry. You’ll have no problem telling them apart.”

The car moved on up the hill and came to a stop in front of a red brick walkway. Leland killed the engine and got out, hurrying around the front of the car. The headlamps had not shut off yet, and Eva was struck again by the strength of the doctor’s physical attraction. Instinctively, she understood that he expected to get the door for her, and suddenly she dared not allow it. Yanking on the door handle, she literally bailed out—and nearly planted her face in his collar.

“Hang on,” he yelped as she slipped and slid in the deep gravel of the drive.

She found herself seized by the upper arms and steadied against the solid wall of his chest. The headlamps shut off abruptly, leaving them frozen, nose-to-nose, in the silent dark.

After a moment, his grip loosened, then he calmly asked, “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” she muttered. “Stupid shoes.” Nodding, he stepped away. “I have some smart ones in the van,” she quipped lightly.

He just turned toward the house, one hand fastened to her upper arm as if she couldn’t be trusted to find her own way. After escorting her up a trio of steps, he ushered her across the gray-painted floor of the porch to the bright yellow door. A fanlight of bubbly glass over the door offered a cheery glow. Leland knocked, and the door opened only moments later. A balding, roundish, middle-aged fellow wearing black slacks and a white shirt buttoned to the chin smiled in welcome.

“Doctor Brooks.”

“Chester. This is Ms. Russell. I believe the aunties are expecting us.”

“Yes, sir. I just left the tea tray with them in the front parlor. May I take your coat?”

“Thank you.”

“Tea tray?” Eva mused, as Leland divested himself of the overcoat and handed it over.

“Our hostesses enjoy a good cup of tea,” he informed her.

She lifted her eyebrows at that, glancing around the expansive foyer with its golden marble, red mahogany, sweeping staircase and...

“Oh, my. Will you look at that.” The ceiling had been painted in sunny shades of blue and yellow and white, a vision of billowing clouds and wafting feathers. “As if ducks have just collided out of sight.”

“Ducks colliding?” Leland asked, looking up. “That’s what you see?”

“Well, ducks are white,” she pointed out lamely. “Some ducks.” She had a comical picture of two clumsy ducks crashing together just out of sight and feathers fluttering down.

The doctor shook his head.

Chester cleared his throat. “May I take your, um, wraps, miss?”

“Miss. Oooh. I like it. Miss and young lady all in one day.” She folded her shawls tight. “No, thank you. I think I’ll hang on to these. In case I have to make a quick getaway.”

Chester’s eyebrows leaped all the way up to his nonexistent hairline. Sighing, the doctor clamped a hand around her elbow and tugged her toward a wide doorway.

“We’ll show ourselves in, Chester. Give my love to Hilda.”

The balding head nodded. Leland towed her into a large room filled with antiques and flowers. Eva glanced around. “Wow. It’s like a museum in here.”

“I’m afraid that includes the occupants, as well,” said an amused, cultured voice.

Eva turned her smile on the speaker, a silver-haired woman peering around the wing of a high-backed, gold-striped chair. The doctor rushed to make the introductions.

“Ladies and gentleman, allow me to present Eva Belle Russell. Eva, Miss Hypatia Kay Chatam.”

“Silk and pearls,” Eva said, nodding at the dignified lady with the silver chignon and sensible pumps.

“Miss Magnolia Faye Chatam,” Leland went on.

“Cardigans and penny loafers,” Eva announced, grinning at the wiry woman, her steel gray braid hanging over her shoulder.

“And this is their sister, Odelia May, or more properly, Mrs. Kent Monroe.”

Eva laughed aloud, taking in the flamboyant woman’s purple turban, fluffy white curls winging out beneath it, the carved parrots swinging from her earlobes and the colorful caftan that clashed so violently with the gold brocade of the love seat where she sat.

“Kindred spirit!” Eva exclaimed, whipping off her shawls and pointing at Odelia, who clapped and stood, holding out both arms to show off the caftan, which had been painted to look like a parrot’s chest and wings. “Turn around! Turn around!” Eva urged. Odelia did so, and sure enough, there was the parrot’s tail painted onto the silk. “I love it.”

Odelia and her husband laughed approvingly. He lumbered to his feet, showing off his pale yellow shirt, turquoise vest and dark purple suit. Beside her Brooks Leland pinched his temples between the thumb and pinky of one hand before saying, “And this, of course, is Mr. Kent Monroe.”

“Do me. Describe me,” urged Kent. “You’re very perspicacious. What do you see?”

Eva swept him with her gaze. Dared she say it? Of course she did. “An Easter egg in a suit.”

He and his wife gasped at each other then collapsed with laughter. “Very good! I almost wore a robin’s egg blue shirt with this, but as the darling wife pointed out, robins are not parrots.”

“And Easter eggs are?” Eva asked, puzzled.

“No, but they’re more colorful,” the missus said.

“So they are,” Eva agreed, winking. “Clever.”

“My word, there are two of them now,” observed Penny Loafers dryly from the armchair at the end of the low, oblong table before the love seat.

“Would you like a cup of tea, Miss Russell?” asked Silk-and-Pearls.