Page 37 of Waiting for Devon
Pushing aside her abhorrence of Digger Sharpe, she began to work on him, hooking him up to a heart monitor and checking his blood pressure and pulse.
“You’re that broad I saw on TV. The one engaged to a Barrington.” His rough voice set off a warning bell, but she didn’t reply.
“You’re not foolin’ anyone by slumming. You get off or somethin’ by making folks around here feel bad for not bein’ able to pay you a fancy doctor’s fee? Miss High and Mighty, huh?”
Again, Devon ignored him. As she suspected from her preliminary examination, her patient wasn’t in the throes of a heart attack. Deciding to err on the side of caution, however, she gave him an EKG. The results came back normal.
“Mister…” she started to address him, waiting for him to supply his name.
“Digger Sharpe. I suggest you don’t forget it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you. If you experience any more pain, go to the ER. My diagnosis is a good, old-fashioned case of heartburn.” She unhooked him from the heart monitor, and he leaped off the examination table.
“Watch your back. That rock you’re sportin’ is worth more than what most folks around here make in a year. This is my neighborhood, and you and your rich friend don’t belong here.”
Devon memorized his sharp-angled face, height and weight, his forked beard, and the tattoo of an eagle on one bulging forearm as he left the clinic. Shane’s warning rang in her mind and caused a shiver of fear to crawl up her spine. Until now, she’d felt safe at the clinic.
When she arrived at the ranch after the family had already eaten dinner, she went straight to her room and didn’t mention the incident. In the morning she left at sunrise. Through the busy days she pushed Digger Sharpe’s comments out of her mind.
On a dark, rainy night in the middle of August, Devon stayed late at the clinic in order to take inventory. Usually this was part of Blair’s responsibilities, but Devon didn’t feel like going to the ranch anytime soon. Besides, she was used to working sixteen to eighteen hours a day, sometimes longer if necessary.
After she finished counting boxes of gauze, she heard someone enter the clinic. A wild-eyed young man bleeding from a gunshot wound in his shoulder caused her to feel a slight alarm.
“Fix me!” he demanded.
“Come with me.” He followed her into an examination room where she checked and cleansed his wound. It had been a clean shot. As she began to stitch it closed, Devon asked, “What happened?”
“None of your business.” Contempt dripped from his voice.
When she finished dressing the wound, the young man took her by surprise when he brandished a switchblade he pulled from the pocket of his dirty, bloody jeans. “Give me all the money!” He glanced nervously around the clinic.
“It’s a free clinic. I don’t have any money.” She told the truth. Whatever cash they had on hand earlier, Blair had taken to the bank.
“Then give me all your drugs!”
“No. I won’t do that.”
Letting out a roar of pure rage, the wounded twenty-something lunged toward Devon with one purpose in mind. To shove his switchblade in her. Frightened now, she screamed as she expected him to attack her before she had time to flee. However, he did not have the opportunity to touch her as his arm was wrenched behind his back and the switchblade clattered to the floor. A fast uppercut to the jaw sent him sailing across the examination room and crashing into a tray of instruments. Devon’s rescuer lifted him onto his feet and punched him in the stomach. He dragged the breathless young man out of the clinic.
“If youevershow your face here again, I’ll kill you.” Reed tossed the attacker into the pouring rain and watched as he disappeared down the street.
Devon shook as she knelt and tried to pick up the metal instruments lying scattered on the cold floor.
Reed joined her and lifted her to her feet. Feeling her tremble and seeing the fear in her eyes, he asked, “Did he hurt you, Devon?”
“No, no, he didn’t.” She stared into his worried countenance. “Reed, what are you doing here?”
“I brought you something to eat. You didn’t have breakfast this morning, and Blair said you hardly ate a bite for lunch because you were swamped with patients. What the hell are you trying to prove? Don’t you realize it’s not safe for you to be here alone at night?” Reed paused as he noted her haggard appearance and reached out to touch her cheek. “Don’t you realize how much I’ve missed you?”
His touch and the look in his sapphire eyes undid her. Physically exhausted from the strain of all the long days she’d been working, Devon’s emotions could not withstand this new assault. Her defenses crumbled, and she whispered his name with an ache in her voice. “Reed.”
He pulled her into his warm embrace and held her as she lost her composure and sobbed. “Shh,” he murmured, rubbing her back. “You’re safe, Devon. I’ve got you.”
She lifted her head and stepped away, wiping her tears with her hands. “I’m sorry for that. It won’t happen again.”
“After what you’ve been through tonight, you’re entitled to…”
“A little sympathy?”
