Page 33 of Waiting for Devon
“Stalking?” Reed returned with a wry grin. “That’s a strong word. I’m merely swimming with my brother’s intended bride, a fact I am well aware of. The question is, is Shane? Frankly, I have serious doubts about his commitment to Devon.” He whistled as he left the dining room.
Chapter Ten
When Shane leftwith Alana on a cruise for two weeks, relief flooded through Devon. Without the pressure of having to pretend she was happily engaged, she acted like her old self. As the days stretched on, Devon treated her patients and oversaw the construction of the new clinic. She also kept a watchful eye on Téa and her mother, and friendship bloomed between them, her, and Blair.
In the trailer Devon used as a makeshift office, she performed an ultrasound on Inez one afternoon. It showed a normal, healthy baby. When Devon inquired about the father, Inez informed her that he had passed away in an accident after the infant was conceived. Inez confided she had no financial means of supporting herself and the children and worried about the future of her family. Devon reassured the frightened mother she would do what was necessary to help her, including finding her a job as soon as the baby was born.
During this time, Devon and Blair grew closer. The younger woman blossomed as she accepted the responsibility of managing the office with efficiency. When they weren’t busy, they spent their time talking and laughing in easy camaraderie. And as far as Reed was concerned… Devon glanced out the window of the trailer and watched the powerful muscles rippling in his back as he worked with the other men on the construction crew. After Shane left on his vacation, Reed decided to work at the site every afternoon as soon as he tended to the horses in the morning. Sometimes he distributed food and clothing to needy families and provided plenty of bottled water for everyone.
In the evening Devon, Blair, and Reed entertained Jasper with stories about their activities, and once in a while Reed took the women out for a night on the town. While Devon and Reed were together, he maintained a polite distance.
The more time Devon spent in Reed’ company, the more difficult it became for her to control the yearnings of her heart. Reed’s intelligence, caustic wit, and rugged charm enthralled her while images of his lips and hands caressing her played across her mind. Though trapped by the charade she was playing, Devon found herself irresistibly drawn to Reed. As long as he believed she was engaged to his brother, Reed wouldn’t touch her again. It shouldn’t matter, but it did.
On the day the Barrington-Brooks Free Clinic opened, the media swarmed and buzzed like flies. Devon took her place behind the podium for the press conference and spoke about her vision and why the clinic was necessary. Most of the reporters were impressed with the clinic and focused their questions on it, but one demanded when they could expect a Barrington wedding.
Devon faced the reporter and replied with tact, “Talking about the need to help this community is far more important than my wedding plans. When Shane and I decide on a date, I assure you the press will be notified.”
The press was given a tour of the facility and began to disperse while a few remained behind to film Devon working with her patients.
After a long, exciting day, Blair left at five-thirty, grinning at Devon as she sidled out the door. “I have a date tonight, Dev. With Rodney Merrill. I wonder how long it will be before he bolts.”
Devon laughed. “Maybe you should try a little Barrington charm for a change.”
At eight o’clock Devon locked the clinic doors. She traced the fine gold letters of her name and marveled at the strange direction her life had taken. A month ago, she never imagined she would be standing on a street in Texas pretending to be engaged to a man she didn’t love and longing for one she couldn’t have. Her eyes grew wide as the thought flitted across her mind, and she stepped away from the door. As she turned, she bumped into the lean, hard form of the man who had been waiting for her.
Devon’s heart thudded in her chest as she gazed into Reed’s handsome face, and her stomach tightened with pleasure.
“I was worried when you didn’t come home with Blair,” Reed confessed in his deep, rich voice. He glanced at the new clinic. “It’s an important accomplishment for you, isn’t it, Dr. Brooks?”
Whenever he addressed her by her professional title, a secret thrill ran through her. “Yes,” Devon replied in a soft voice. “I’m glad I can be of service to this community.”
“I admire your selflessness.” He noted her weariness. “You must be ravenous. Let me take you to dinner.”
“I’m not dressed appropriately. And I’m sure I’m a mess.”
“You look perfect for the place I have in mind.”
A decked-out ChevySilverado with the Barrington Ranch logo on the side passed Digger Sharpe as he pulled in front of a dive on Third Street in his red and white classic Cadillac convertible. An air of vitality surrounded him, and he frowned. People with hope were harder to control. Raise their hope, raise them out of ignorance and they would rebel.
He stared down the street at the new Barrington-Brooks free clinic. There stood the symbol of a fool’s inability to grasp what these people needed. They didn’t need free health care. They needed his drugs, his alcohol, and his offer of a helping hand right out of any money or freedom they might have.
Digger thought of the sexy, pregnant widow, Inez Rodriguez, as he swaggered into the bar. So far, she’d resisted his advances, and now that she had made friends with rich bitch Blair Barrington, Inez had been even more disdainful of him. She needed help, though, and sooner or later, she would bend the knee to him and do whatever he wanted in order to please him. He still had a card to play. Her daughter, Téa.
He made his way to the back room where he conducted his business. His two right hands awaited him. “Report,” Digger demanded.
The men glanced at each other. “You’re not going to like this,” one ventured.
Digger lit a cigarette, and they shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m waiting.”
“First, Harry Walton still hasn’t paid a dime, even after the beating we gave him. He keeps harping on some scheme he’s cooking up to get the money.”
“He may need some more persuasion.” Digger blew out smoke through his nostrils.
“Maybe. Uh, there’s more. At least three of the businesses have refused to pay for our protection.”
Digger sat up straighter. “Which businesses?”
“The bodega, the hair and nail salon, and the laundry mat. Someone’s convinced them that they don’t owe you a penny.”
