Page 38 of Legacy of Danger
An uneasy sensation settled in her bones. Deeper than the chill. The feeling made her shoulder blades twitch. She glanced behind her, expecting to see something lurking there.
Nothing.
In the empty parking lot, they accompanied Mrs. Brand to a minivan in a handicapped spot. A bright parking lot light illuminated the vehicle from above. Rust bubbled the wheel wells, and dried mud and frozen slush coated the running boards.
Beneath the unending barrage of her mother's criticisms, Izzy heaved open the side door. She struggled to extend the heavy iron ramp.
"Sorry." One corner of Izzy's mouth rose. "Automated gate no longer automates."
"Technology, huh?" Mariah grabbed the other side of the large metal square and helped pull it down and fold a section out with a creak and a clank.
"Took you long enough. I'm freezing my venison off out here," Mrs. Brand grumbled as she tried to wheel herself onto the ramp. She made it a foot and rolled backward. With a grunt, Izzy pushed her mother's chair into the van.
A truck pulled up nearby, and the driver got out, his duster catching in the wind. He walked over with a slight limp.
"Hi Izzy." Kerr's face was half hidden beneath his hat. "How's it going?"
"Good, um. Nice to see you. We gotta go." Izzy turned her back on him to stow the ramp. Her attempts resulted in more clanks.
He frowned and reached down. "Can I help?"
She froze, then looked back over her shoulder. "Yeah. That would be great," she breathed, a smile lighting up her face for a moment.
"Who's out there? Is that one of those dirt-grubbing Taggarts?" Mrs. Brand hollered from the van, the dome light giving her face a skeletal, spidery appearance. "Get the hell away from my property."
"You can pick your nose, but can't pick your family," Izzy muttered.
Mariah and Kerr both covered laughs.
"Here, Iz, I've got it." Kerr hefted the solid ramp back in place like it weighed only a few pounds. He grinned at the car's occupant and tipped his Stetson. "Nice to see you, Mrs. Brand. You take care now." He slid the door closed on her profanity-laced response and brushed off his hands.
Izzy peeked up at him. Her exhausted expression transformed into one of exceptional beauty. "Thanks, Kerr. You, um, doing okay? With, the, uh...?"
He rubbed his thigh, almost as an absent motion. "Missing limb? Yep. Peachy."
A hand drifted to her mouth. "I didn't mean—"
All of a sudden, Mariah felt like a frigid third wheel as she stood there shivering. Behind her, she heard the front door of the hospital whoosh open.
Muffled epithets filtered from the depths of the van in front of her. The shadow of a raised claw fist inside the vehicle completed the surreal image as the van rocked.
Izzy scraped back her hair. "Man, my family puts the 'fun' in dysfunctional, huh?"
"Nothing in life is perfect, Iz." He stared at her, then shoved his hands in pockets. "Hey, if you ever want to grab a bite to eat, let me know."
"You... what?" she asked.
Kerr's smile fell. "Or not. No big deal."
"No. That sounds great, but I can't."
"Because of...?" He gestured generally toward his lower body.
"Geez, no. You're fine. I mean, of course you're fine. You're more than fine. Oh, heck. But we can't. Not because of your leg. Missing. Or not. Crap." Izzy palmed her forehead.
"Stressed much?" Kerr sucked on a tooth.
Out of the corner of Mariah's eye, a large man made a direct path from the front entrance of the hospital. The temperature on her skin dropped ten degrees, and the temperature in her chest rose twenty. She couldn't deal with another uncomfortable confrontation.
