Page 20 of Love on the Run

“Miss Reed? I’m Pat Murphy. Why don’t you follow me? Jake, you can wait here.”

Jake looked like he was about to protest, but a look from the doctor silenced him. Murphy led Callie through the door and down a short hall to an examining room, bright white and shiny with stainless steel counters. She wobbled, feeling a sense of deja vu.

“I remember this place,” she whispered.

The doctor heard her. “I should hope so. You were here not too long ago. Why don’t you hop up on the table, Miss Reed. Let’s see how that wound is healing.”

“You can call me Callie,” she said shyly, as she climbed onto the examining table. She was wearing shorts, so the doctor merely put a pair of gloves on and began to press the muscles in her leg methodically, apparently feeling for tenderness.

“Any pain?” he asked, probing the skin. Callie shook her head. “How about here?’”

She grimaced. “Yeah, that did it.”

“You were lucky. The bullet missed your femur by an inch, and the major artery by millimeters.”

“I… I was confused. I didn’t realize how bad it was.” The injury seemed to wake up under the examination, and she felt a wash of heat through her body in reaction to the pain.

“Well, thank goodness Jake found you. Your blood pressure was ridiculously low.I gave you a blood supplement and an antibiotic, but a few more hours, and we might have been burying you.” The matter-of-fact way he said finally penetrated Callie’s brain. The heat in her body suddenly changed to cold. She put her hands up to her face. “I was stupid.”

“No, you were disoriented. There’s a difference.” The doctor started to peel away the bandage. “Have you taken any codeine? I gave some to Jake.”

“No, it isn’t so bad. I don’t like drugs,” she added.

Murphy was examining the wound now, using a magnifying glass with a bright light attached to it to peer at the little hole, now closed over with minute stitches. “No sign of infection. Again, you’re lucky.” He applied some kind of ointment, which stung. “Not too big a hole, after all, but the bullet was pretty deep. I’m glad I was able to get it out without more work.”

“You haven’t asked how I got shot.”

Murphy straightened up, looking directly at her with his kind eyes. “I’m a doctor, Callie, not a cop. I’ll let Jake take care of the legal issues.”

“He’s been really nice to me,” she blurted out, not even knowing why she said it. Even with his questions, and her own sly behavior, he’d been kind. And he had to think the worst of her.

“Wouldn’t have expected anything less from him. He’s a real gentleman. We were all happy to see him come back home, even if the circumstances were less than…” He broke off suddenly, as if he’d said too much.

“You were here when Jake moved?” Callie noticed his discomfort, and tried to smooth over it.

“Honey, I installed the phone lines in his house.” Murphy chuckled at her surprised expression. “Hey, in a small town, everyone has to know something extra.”

“I see.” Callie carefully flexed her leg, now that the new bandage was on.

“How’s it feel?”

“Okay, I guess. I don’t have a lot to compare it to.”

“Let’s keep it that way. Bullets and people don’t mix.” Murphy jotted a few notes on his chart, and then gestured for her to get up. “You’re healing just fine, Callie. Keep taking those antibiotics, even if you feel like you don’t need them. And call me if there’s any change, but I wouldn’t worry.”

“Thanks, Dr. Murphy.”

“Just doing my job.”

“That’s exactly what Jake said,” Callie noted, suddenly recalling.

“Did he now.” Murphy laughed to himself. He led her out to the waiting room. Jake stood up when he saw them, his bearing tense. “Here’s your charge back, Sheriff. Keep her safe.” The doctor graced her with a last smile, then turned to Mrs. Lancaster. “Come on back, Laura. The x-rays look good.” The women followed him, with a final glance at Callie and Jake. Callie knew without a doubt that the gossip mill would have some new fodder.

Jake had apparently reached the same conclusion, judging from the tight expression on his face. They walked outside—again, with him holding the doors for her—and Callie wondered how many people had seen them so far and assumed she was his girlfriend. And would that be so bad? Callie wished that was her biggest problem right now.

“So this Mrs. Lancaster’s a talker, is she?” Callie asked lightly. She wondered how badly she had grilled Jake while they were sitting there.

“You have no idea.” Jake tried to smile, but his obvious discomfort made Callie want to apologize again.

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