before we’re done,” he said.
She sighed and relaxed her arm.
Don cleaned up the tabletop to prepare for bandaging her cut.
“If the paperwork takes much longer, can we plan on doing it through the mail? Including the sale of my mom’s house?”
He frowned. “Why would you want to do that? You’re here now. If a few more weeks is too long, I can try to put a rush on things.”
“I don’t want you to have to hurry on my account. But after, well, after today, I’m more inclined to finish packing up the house and just go. Can’t I sign some kind of power of attorney over to you?”
His brows raised again, making her think of snow-white caterpillars.
“You can, certainly. But most people prefer to give power of attorney to someone they know and trust rather than to their lawyer.”
“My mama trusted you. That’s good enough for me.”
He puffed out his chest, his face turning a light shade of red. And suddenly Bex wondered whether he’d felt more toward her mother than simple friendship. And whether those feelings were returned. If so, her mother had never said anything. But then again, her mother might have worried that Bex would feel funny about her finally dating someone after all these years. And, truth be told, she would have felt...odd about it.
A car crash had taken Bex’s father from them when Bex was in middle school. The loss had been devastating for her and her mother. Imagining her mom with anyone other than her daddy made her feel sad. But happy, too. Her mother deserved some male companionship in her life. And if she’d found it with the honorable Mr. Augustus Leonard, then that was a very good thing.
Mr. Leonard cleared his throat. “Thank you for your faith in me, Miss Kane. I have a form at the office you can fill out for the power of attorney. When you’re finished here, I can walk you over. Martha’s a notary. She can witness our signatures and notarize the document.”
“Can you raise your arm a few inches?” Don asked.
Bex lifted her arm so he could wrap some gauze over the stitches.
“Sounds like a plan,” she said to her lawyer. “The sooner I can get out of Destiny the better. There’s nothing left for me here except bad memories.”
Movement near the ambulance doors had her looking up, and right into Max’s eyes. Again. And just like in the grocery store, his jaw tightened and his eyes darkened.
“Max. Um, hi. How long have you been standing there?” she asked.
“Long enough.” The bitterness in his voice surprised her. Had he heard what she’d said to Mr. Leonard? Why would it matter? He certainly didn’t have any feelings for her anymore, as evidenced by how he’d treated her at the deli.
Or did he?
He motioned toward the bandage. “What’s wrong with your arm?”
She blinked and looked down, having forgotten all about her injured arm. “It’s just a little cut.”
“More like a gash,” Don said. “Eight stitches.”
“How did that happen?” Max elbowed his way past the lawyer and hopped into the ambulance. He grabbed Bex’s left hand to inspect the EMT’s work as if he would demand a redo if it didn’t meet his standards.
Bex frowned and tugged her arm out of his grasp. “I assume it happened when you...when I hid between the shelves. It’s not a big deal. I’m fine. Really.”
He studied her a moment, then promptly ignored her, speaking instead to the EMT.
“Why didn’t you take her to the hospital?”
“She said she didn’t—”
“I refused to go to the hospital,” she said.
“Well?” he asked the EMT, as if she hadn’t spoken.
Don’s brows rose to his hairline. “I, ah, Miss Kane didn’t want to go to the hospital. She asked me if I could take care of her arm here.”
“What about the risk of infection? Those grocery store shelves aren’t exactly sterile.”
The bewildered look on Don’s face hardened. “I know how to clean a wound, sir. And I asked Miss Kane about getting a tetanus shot, but she insisted that she didn’t need one.”
Max turned to face her. “You either get the shot or you’re going to the hospital.”
Bex rolled her eyes and grabbed her purse from the bench beside her.
“I’m not an idiot, Max. I’m up-to-date on my shots. And I don’t need you, or anyone else, bossing me around.” She shook the EMT’s hand. “Thank you, Don. I appreciate your help.”
She went to hop down from the ambulance, but Max gently pushed her back and hopped down first. Then he lifted her out before she realized what he was about to do.
The feel of his warm hands around her sent a delightful shock of awareness up her spine, making her stiffen in surprise.
His jaw tightened and he dropped his hands, taking a quick step back. Before she could correct his obvious misinterpretation of her reaction, Mr. Leonard stepped forward.
“I’ll escort you back to my office.”
“She needs to answer some questions about the shooting,” Max said, a thread of steel in his deep voice.
Eager to avoid any kind of confrontation, Bex stepped between the two men and shook Mr. Leonard’s hand. “Thank you, for everything. If you don’t mind, I’ll go to your office some other time to sign that power of attorney.”
“Very well. My door’s always open for you, Miss Kane.” He tipped his head politely. “Detective Remington.” Then he headed across the parking lot toward his office, one of a handful of businesses and restaurants on Magnolia Street.
Max waved Bex back from the ambulance so Don could close the doors and prepare to return to the hospital.
Bex crossed her arms, not quite sure which Max Remington was standing before her now—the one full of anger at the deli, or the one who’d nearly broken her heart with kindness as he’d soothed her after carrying her out of the store.
“I never really thanked you before. You saved my life today.”
“Just doing my job.” His voice was curt, clipped.
She sighed. Deli Max was back.
“Chief Thornton wants me to show you some pictures of the gunmen to see whether you recognize them. And I’m sure he’ll want me to interview you about what happened,” he continued. “I figure it will be easier at the station. We can take my truck. I’ll bring you back to your car when we’re done.”
He reached for her good arm, but she jerked back, her stomach churning with dread. At the mention of the police station, her body flushed with heat, in spite of the chill in the air. She shook her head and took a step away from him.
“I’m not going to the police station.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
She glanced past him at Thornton, who was talking to a uniformed officer about thirty yards away. “I...don’t have fond memories of that place, as you can imagine. And I never intend to go there again. So, unless you’re arresting me, the answer is no.”
She hurried toward her car, which, thankfully, was no longer blocked by a fire engine, as it had been earlier.
“Bex. Wait.”
The irritation in his voice as he followed her had her practically running and pulling out her keys. She stopped beside a blue Honda and reached for the door handle just as Max caught up to her. He braced a hip against the door and crossed his arms as if