Safe Haven

Without turning around, the woman held her hand up to silence him. She had short hair that resembled a brown football helmet. Karah Lee thought that style had gone out of fashion in the last millennium, but she’d never been one to keep up with fads.

Blaze gave Karah Lee an apologetic glance. “Believe it or not, she’s usually friendly,” he muttered.

“Hush a minute, Blaze,” Jill said, her voice deep and raspy. “I’m waiting for some news.”

He shrugged and leaned toward Karah Lee. “Jill’s our nurse and general troublemaker. And she’s doing secretary-receptionist duties since we don’t have one right now.”

A voice shot over the radio. “Nothing here, Jill. Over.”

She pressed the talk button. “You’re sure about that?” She released the button and glanced over her shoulder at Blaze and Karah Lee. “A friend of mine got a call this morning from Mary Coley, who lives out by the road a few miles from here. Said somebody swerved to miss a deer and ran into a tree last night. That shy ranger, Taylor What’s-his-name, took the call, but he’s tight as a clam and never shares details. You hear anything about a wreck?”

Karah Lee felt a sudden buzz of discomfort.

“Not a peep,” Blaze said. “I want to introduce Cheyenne to Dr. Fletcher before we get too busy to—”

The radio chugged its static over the line again. “…the crew didn’t make any runs to Springfield last night…either dead or alive. Over.”

Blaze gave a long-suffering sigh and stepped forward. “Jill, would you quit playing?” There was a cajoling edge to his voice now. “This is our new doctor. At least say good morning.”

Jill turned from the radio and straightened, grimacing ruefully. “Sorry. Hi, Dr. Fletcher. Nice to meet you. We’ve got a bet going on how many car-versus-animal accident patients we’ll have for the month of June.” She raised her voice, as if speaking to someone in another room. “So far it’s three and I’m winning.”

“Last night doesn’t count until it’s confirmed,” came a slightly familiar voice from down the hallway. “And besides, our bet was on how many patients we received.” The sound of the voice drew closer. “I haven’t seen any patients yet this morning, have you?” The speaker stepped into view, and Karah Lee recognized her new employer, Dr. Cheyenne Allison.

Dr. Allison had hair the color of midnight, cut in a wash-and-wear shag that barely reached her shoulders. She had dark brown eyes and an olive complexion that suggested a Native American heritage. At about five feet seven inches, she had to tilt her head to look up at Karah Lee.

“Oops, you caught us being unprofessional.” Dr. Allison opened the door between the waiting room and the treatment area and stepped out to shake Karah Lee’s hand with the same firm grip Karah Lee remembered from their interview in Branson earlier in the spring.

“Hi, Dr. Allison.”

“Shy.”

Karah Lee frowned.

“Call me Shy. Short for Cheyenne.”

Ah. Chey.

“First order of business,” Cheyenne said, “we’re all on a first-name basis around here, patients, doctors, staff. Some of the older patients like to be called Mr. or Mrs. and they insist on calling me Dr., it makes them feel more secure, but other than that we have a more relaxed office. Call me Chey or Cheyenne.”

“Chey. Fine.” Karah Lee pulled up an office chair and sat down. “I go by Karah Lee. So this is what you do for entertainment around here? Keep tabs on car wrecks?”

Jill and Cheyenne glanced at each other sheepishly.

Blaze chuckled. “Serves you right for betting.”

Jill shrugged. “We’re not betting for money, we’re just competing for one of Bertie’s black walnut pies.”

“Oh, no, you don’t. I’ve got dibs on a goat cheese,” Cheyenne said. “Not black walnut.”

“Ah, that’s right,” Karah Lee said. “I heard you didn’t exactly have a sophisticated palate.”

The gently angular lines of Chey’s face filled with amusement. “Who told you that?”

Jill laughed. “Anybody in town could’ve told her that. Hey, I heard the dummy who caused the accident last night had a cat in the car. Does that count as a patient?”

“No way!” Cheyenne protested. “That’s cheating.”

Karah Lee forced a smile. Time to get this over with. “Since the dummy’s cat suffered fewer injuries than even the dummy herself, I don’t think you can count him as a patient. We might be checking out the dummy later. Depends on how the day goes.”

If she hadn’t been the victim of this unintentional joke, she would have laughed at the expressions of surprise on their faces. Blaze did laugh. Loudly.

She reached up and pushed back her bangs to expose the injury. “Deer ran out in front of me and I swerved and hit a tree. Actually, it was my car that hit the tree. I had sunglasses clipped to the visor, and my head made contact during impact. End of story. My cat’s okay and everything is fine. You got any coffee? I could use another dose of caffeine.”

Static jerked through the ambulance radio and drowned out Jill’s abject apology. A disembodied voice announced the pending arrival of a small child who had slipped and smacked his head against the rocks while chasing a squirrel.

As the radio voice gave specifics, Karah Lee turned to Blaze. “You’d better give me that tour while we’ve still got time.”

Chapter Six

Taylor led the way to the clinic in his truck, checking the rearview mirror to make sure the parents of the injured child were keeping up in their own car. The damage wasn’t bad, but Dr. Allison—who preferred to be called by her first name instead of her title—would probably want to do a suture or two.

The radio buzzed at him again, and he received an updated report about the woman hunt in Branson. For some reason, authorities believed the suspect was still in town. To Taylor, that was stupid. With all the roads that led out of Branson, no murderer was going to hang around to get nabbed by the police.

Taylor switched off the radio as he parked in front of the clinic. He had more important things to take care of right now. Branson could keep its murderers.

Blaze opened the door to the fourth and last exam room. “I’ll never make fun of my patients. If I ever have any.”

Karah Lee glanced at him curiously as she stepped into the room and inhaled the familiar scent of iodine and alcohol. “You’re going to be a doctor?”

“A vet. If I can make the grades. What were you saying about your cat?” Blaze followed her inside. “Did he get hurt in the wreck?”

“He seems fine this morning, but I’d like to have a vet take a look at him.”

“You staying over at Bert’s place?”

“Bert?”

“You know, Bertie Meyer. She and Edith run the Lakeside.”

“Oh, that’s right.” A small town, where everyone knew everyone, just like Karah Lee’s hometown. “Yes, that’s where I’m staying.”

“I can run over there this morning when I get a chance and take a look at him for you. What’s his name?”

“Monster. You already take patients?” She remembered Ranger Jackson telling her about him.

“Right now I’m all Hideaway’s got. My dad was a vet, and I worked with him.”

“So where’s he?”