me to write them a script for painkillers so they could get their next high.” Her eyes flashed anger. “I know how to handle myself. I know how to handle people. I know how to dial 9-1-1. If someone thinks he can drug girls at parties, he needs to be stopped.” She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “I have every right to ask questions. And I’m careful. I know it can be a dangerous situation.”
Dylan dared to step forward and touch her chin with a hooked index finger. He waited for her to look up at him. When she did, he said emphatically, “Not. Your. Job.”
Christina jerked away. Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “No, I suppose it’s my job to patch up the women after they’re attacked.”
* * *
Christina woke up in the middle of the night with a blinding headache. Fortunately it had dulled to a quiet roar by morning. She was grateful for that. Lying awake most of the night rehashing the events surrounding Naomi had contributed to her blah feelings. But as much as she’d like to, her work ethic wouldn’t allow her to stay in bed all day. Before Georgia, she could never call in late. Even now, she didn’t like to take advantage. But today she decided she had to. Fortunately, Georgia had already been scheduled at the clinic this morning and insisted she had everything covered.
By the time Christina climbed behind the wheel of her sedan and pulled out onto the main road, the midmorning sun was like needles to her eyes. She dropped the car’s sun visor and grabbed her sunglasses. Ahhh...
As Christina drove to the clinic, almost on autopilot, she rehashed, yet again, the events of last night. After Christina and Dylan had dropped Naomi at home, Christina had called her brother, a sheriff’s deputy. She hadn’t wanted to betray Naomi, so Christina left her name out of the conversation, but she needed to let Nick know that someone had potentially drugged a young Amish woman at a party. Law enforcement often watched trends. Maybe someone would be arrested for a similar incident.
Christina purposely omitted the part about almost getting run over in the parking lot. Her overprotective brother would have lost all perspective then. However, Christina had hoped that when her brother tracked down Ben Reist, he would shed new light on what had transpired last night. And he’d probably reveal Naomi’s name, but in good conscience, Christina couldn’t let the perpetrator go unchecked. Unfortunately, Nick had called her late last night to say that Ben had not come home.
Christina wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Maybe Ben wasn’t such a good guy after all.
When Christina reached the stop sign at the same intersection they had come upon last night, she found herself turning toward the barn where Naomi had most likely been drugged. She hoped that maybe she would see something in the daylight that she had missed in the dark. The thought of letting the person who drugged Naomi get away with it galled her.
You let someone get away with it. The familiar, mocking voice threaded its way through her brain, not helping her headache. Not one bit.
This is not about me, her rational voice countered. This is about Naomi.
Determined not to let her doubts pull her off course, Naomi drove toward the barn then wondered if she had gotten turned around. She wasn’t exactly the queen of directions. A car with an attached trailer sat in the driveway. It wasn’t until Christina drove past that she saw the unmistakable Sold sign and the barn behind it.
Her pulse raced in her ears and her mouth went dry.
Ignoring all the alarm bells in her head, Christina slowed to a near crawl. The front door was propped open, as if movers were bringing in boxes. Her heart raced as she heard Dylan’s stern warning not to do any investigating on her own. Then anger seeped in to replace her anxiousness. What right did he have to tell her what to do?
What harm could it do to knock on the door and welcome new neighbors to the small town? People still did that right? She had never done it, but people did. Indecision had her shifting her foot from the brake to the accelerator.
Go to work.
Go. Go. Go.
No. No. No.
Before she had a chance to overthink it, she glanced in the side mirror, the rearview mirror and over her shoulder, then made a sharp U-turn. She slowed and turned into the driveway and parked next to the trailer and climbed out.
As she approached the house, she promised herself she wouldn’t go inside, instead staying out in the bright sunlight. What could happen out here? She knew better, but she couldn’t stop herself. Naomi’s sweet face flashed in her mind. She had to do this for Naomi.
Christina hadn’t yet figured out exactly what she’d say when a frail woman appeared in the doorway, her head wrapped in colorful fabric. The woman came up short, surprise evident on her pale face. She hadn’t been expecting anyone.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Christina smiled, suddenly feeling foolish.
The woman’s skin seemed translucent. Dark shadows marred the skin under her eyes. The vibrancy of her blue eyes wasn’t diminished by the lack of lashes or brows. The pretty scarf hid what was no doubt a bald head. A hesitant smile graced the woman’s thin lips. “May I help you?”
Christina blinked rapidly. Not planning ahead hadn’t been a good idea. It was so unlike her. She had always planned ahead. College. Med School. Clinic in Apple Creek.
Check. Check. Check.
Yet here she was, gesturing awkwardly toward her car, partially hidden by the trailer. “I was driving by the house and noticed someone was moving in. I thought I’d stop by and welcome you to Apple Creek.” She really wished she had thought to stop by the diner to pick up one of Flo’s pies or something. Well, truth be told, she hadn’t expected to see cars in the driveway or to stop when she had.
“Thank you.” The woman’s reply came out more like a question.
“My name’s Christina Jennings. I’m a physician at the healthcare clinic in town.”
The woman nodded slowly, as if she was still trying to figure out what this woman was doing in her front yard. “Any relation to Nick Jennings?”
“Yes.” Christina smiled. “He’s my brother.”
“Small town, right? I knew him from way back when. Actually my husband knew him. My name’s Linda, by the way.”
Before Christina had a chance to ask her more questions, Linda descended the steps and crossed over to the trailer. The back doors were yawning open. The woman reached in and slid a box toward the edge of the trailer and stopped. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to chat. I have a lot of work to do.”
Christina glanced toward the house, wondering if this woman was alone. “Can I help?”
The woman blinked slowly. “No, thank you.” She leaned her hip on the back of the trailer, as if the short walk had drained her. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. I’m tired and there’s so much to do. My son and his father are supposed to help me, but apparently there’s some work to be done on the mechanicals in the basement.” She lifted a thin shoulder. “Figures the first thing we realized this morning was there was no hot water.” She frowned. “We had some work done on the house for the past few months. Then we moved a lot of the big stuff in last week, but we had cleaning and the rest of the packing to finish before we could completely move in. It’s been a long road, but we’re almost there...” She drew in a deep breath, then exhaled. “And I’m tired.” She shook her head and gave a weary smile. “Wow, didn’t mean to unload on a complete stranger.”
Compassion warmed Christina’s heart. “Moving is a lot of work. I moved not long ago myself.” She remembered the cleaning and the sorting and the lifting, and she had been healthy. Christina couldn’t imagine the strain on top of a serious illness.
“Had you moved away from Apple Creek?”
“Oh, no, I just recently relocated a little farther out into the country. I like the space.”