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“I know you from somewhere, don’t I?”
The woman tossed back her head and laughed, and instantly he knew who she was. No man could ever forget that low, husky sound.
“Goodness. I know it’s been a couple of years, but surely I haven’t changed that much.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Maude Ann Henley, Tom Henley’s widow. You’re that shrink who used to work for the department.”
And she had changed all right. The woman he remembered had been reserved and perfectly groomed at all times, her makeup flawless. She’d dressed in tailored suits, wore her hair pulled severely back in a chignon and exuded an air of cool professionalism. Now she stood before him in ragged cutoffs, a form-fitting T-shirt, her hair a cloud of unruly curls, and apparently not wearing a speck of makeup. There was even a splattering of freckles across her nose, for Pete’s sake.
“Yes. Although, my name is actually Edwards. Dr. Maude Ann Edwards to be exact. I kept my maiden name for professional reasons. And just so you know, Detective, I prefer the term psychiatrist to shrink.”
“Just what the hell are you doing here, Dr. Edwards?”
She looked taken aback, whether by the question or his curt tone he neither knew nor cared. He just wanted an answer. Then he wanted her gone. He had avoided her when she worked at the precinct. He sure as hell didn’t want her around now.
“Why, I live here. Didn’t Lieutenant Werner tell you?”
“You live here? No, he didn’t tell me,” Matt ground out through clenched teeth. “Somehow he neglected to mention that particular piece of information. He just told me he had one tenant. I assumed it was a summer fisherman. That son of a—”
“Detective Dolan, please. I must ask that you refrain from cursing in front of the children.” Noticing that the kids hadn’t moved, she shooed them toward the door. “Go on in and wash those berries like I told you. Jane will be back from the store soon. If the berries aren’t ready, she won’t be able to make that cobbler you want for dessert. So get. All of you.”
The departure of the younger children sounded like a herd of wild mustangs clattering across the wooden porch. Amid shouts and squeals and a round of pushing and shoving to see who could be first, and the repeated squeak and bang of the front door, they disappeared into the lodge. A few of the older children, however, were reluctant to leave, They dragged their feet, looking balefully at Matt as they shuffled inside.
When the last straggler disappeared through the door, Maude Ann turned her attention back to Matt.
“Actually, to be fair, Lieutenant Werner didn’t lie to you, Detective. I am the only tenant at the lodge.”
“Why are you here?” She opened her mouth to reply, but he held up his hand and stopped her. “No, don’t bother. It’s obvious. Well, you can tell the lieutenant that I don’t need anyone to play nursemaid, and I sure as hell don’t need a shrink. So this little scheme of his was a waste of time.”
Laughter twinkled in Maude Ann’s whiskey-colored eyes. “My, my, what an ego you have, Dolan. Funny, I worked with you for two years and I never realized that. It so happens that my being here has nothing whatever to do with you. I leased the lodge from the lieutenant to house the foster home I established for abused and neglected children who have been taken away from their parents or guardians. I call it Henley Haven, in honor of my late husband.”
“A foster home? You mean, that mob of kids lives here?”
“Yes. And they’re hardly a mob. There are only seven children here at the moment. Henley Haven can accommodate ten easily. A dozen in an emergency. But whatever the number, the children keep me much too busy to have time to spend on you. Actually, it should relieve your mind to know that I no longer see patients. I prefer to use my training and experience helping these children adjust and heal, so you needn’t worry that I’ll be analyzing you.”
“You’re not going to get the chance, lady.”
“Good. I’m glad that’s settled. When the lieutenant called he merely asked if I would mind if you stayed in his quarters while you recuperated and drive you into Houston for your checkups. I go into Houston regularly anyway, and since he’s giving me a good deal on this place, I couldn’t very well refuse. Besides, his room isn’t part of my lease agreement. That’s always kept ready for him when he visits, so you’re not putting anyone out.
“I did agree that you could eat with us. Jane and I must cook for the children, anyway, so even that isn’t an imposition. I assure you, meals, housekeeping and an occasional ride into town are all the help you’ll receive from me.”
“I won’t be needing those, either,” he snapped. “Dammit, I only agreed to come out here to soak up some sunshine and peace and quiet. Instead, what do I find? A lady shrink and a bunch of rug rats.”
“Hey, pig, who you calling a rat?”
“Tyrone!” Maude Ann admonished as a small black boy charged out onto the porch.
The door banged shut as he stepped between Matt and Maude Ann. Assuming a challenging stance that was comical in a youngster, he glared at Matt and thrust out his chin.
Surprise shot through Matt. He recognized the kid instantly. Tyrone Washington was the child of a female junkie from the section of Houston known as Denver Harbor.
Only seven, the kid was already headed for trouble. Most of the time his mother was stoned out of her mind, and Tyrone ran virtually wild through the slum neighborhood. The kid had a mouth on him like a longshoreman’s and an eye for larceny. Tyrone might be only seven, but in the ways of the world he was about forty-five.
Matt looked the kid up and down and returned his glare with a cynical half smile. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Tyrone Washington. The Denver Harbor tough guy.”
“That’s right, pig, an’ there ain’t nothin’ you kin do ’bout it, so kiss my a—”
“Tyrone!” Maude Ann admonished again. “You’re to watch your language, young man. Furthermore, you are not to call Detective Dolan by that derogatory name. Do you understand?”
The boy looked back at her over his shoulder. “Daroga what? Whazzat mean?”
“Derogatory. It means insulting and degrading. You’re new, but you’ve been here long enough to know that we don’t treat people that way.”
A perplexed frown wrinkled Tyrone’s forehead. “Not even stinkin’ cops?”
“No. Especially not cops. Remember I told you my husband was a policeman and a wonderful man. Now apologize.”
Tyrone’s face turned mulish. “I ain’t gonna ’pologize to no—”
“Tyrone, either apologize or you stay here with Jane tomorrow while the rest of us go to the movies. The choice is yours.”
“Ah, Miz Maudie—”
“You heard me, Tyrone.”
“Look, can we drop this?” Matt snapped. “I don’t care if the little punk apologizes or not.”
“Mr. Dolan! I said no name calling. The rules I’ve given the children apply to everyone who stays here.”
“Then we don’t have a problem, because I’m not staying.”
“That is entirely up to you, Detective,” she replied with a pleasant smile. “I have no feelings on the matter one way or another, I assure you.”
“Fine, then you won’t mind if I call the lieutenant and tell him to send someone to pick me up, will you,” he snapped back.
“Not at all. There’s a telephone in your room.”
Matt gave her a curt nod. Leaning on his cane, he gritted his teeth and turned to leave.
“Humph. Good riddance,” Tyrone muttered, but this time Maude Ann was too distracted to correct him.
She bit her lower lip and watched Matt Dolan limp away. She recalled how he used to look, striding around the station house, often without his suit jacket and his shirtsleeves rolled up. A big man with broad shoulders, a lean muscular build and a self-confident demeanor, he had emitted an aura of masculine invincibility and strength.
His back was still ramrod straight and his head high, but he had lost weight during his stay in the hospital, and his progress was so slow and so obviously painful it wrung her heart. It was all she could do not to rush forward and help him.
The only thing that stopped her was the certain knowledge that he would rebuff the offer, probably none too politely. That, and the promise she had made to herself.
When John Werner had contacted her and asked if Matt Dolan could stay at the lodge for a few months, she had vowed she would give the man his space and not let herself become involved in his recovery in any way. She had enough on her hands with the children. Nor did she need or want to be drawn back into the world of law enforcement and the dark psychological and physical trauma that came with it.
She had left all that behind two years ago when her husband Tom had been killed during a bank holdup. Her life now was devoted to the children.
Self-deception had never been one of Maude Ann’s shortcomings, and she had to admit there was another reason for steering clear of Matt. She didn’t ever want to take a chance of falling for another law-enforcement officer.
Not that the risk of that happening was great. During the three years that she had worked for the HPD, Matt had been polite but distant. Maude Ann couldn’t recall ever having had a personal conversation with the man, nor had he ever consulted her about any of his cases unless a superior had ordered him to.
He wasn’t anything like Tom, not at all her type, and given their history, there was little danger of an attraction developing between them.
Still, Maude Ann wasn’t stupid. Matt Dolan was a handsome devil, in a tough-as-nails kind of way. With his black-as-coal hair and vivid blue eyes, those chiseled features and his general “go to hell” attitude, he stirred something deep in the female psyche that even the most intelligent of women would have a difficult time resisting.
Yes, it was definitely best, all around, if she gave Detective Dolan a wide berth.
Chapter Three
Matt sat on the edge of the bed with the receiver to his ear, impatiently counting the rings on the other end of the line.
“Lieutenant Werner.”
“You sorry, sneaky, scheming, back-stabbing bastard. You set me up.”
“Ah, good afternoon to you, too, Matt. I take it you’ve met Maudie and her charges.”
Matt ground his teeth and tightened his grip on the receiver. John didn’t even try to hide the amusement in his voice. Matt could almost see him leaning back in his chair, grinning like a jackass eating briars. “At least you have the good sense not to pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,” he snarled.
“Not much point in that, is there. So how is Maudie?”
“Maudie is fine. I’m mad as hell. I swear, Werner, if I was there right now, I’d knock your teeth out.”
“C’mon, Dolan, in your condition you couldn’t whip a flea, and you know it. Of course, you’re welcome to try, but if I were you I’d wait until I recovered.”
“Funny. Real funny. Did you really think I’d go along with this? I refused to see a shrink at the hospital, so you figured you’d maroon me in the boonies with one. Maude Ann Edwards, for Pete’s sake! I steered clear of the woman when she worked for the department. Why the devil would I want to spend time with her now? Radio Hank right away and tell him to turn around and come get me. I’m outta here.”
“No way, Dolan. We have a deal and you’re sticking to it. Look, don’t go jumping to conclusions. Maudie doesn’t take patients anymore. But she is a doctor. I figured if you needed medical attention, she would be handy to have around. That’s all. She’s too busy with her kids to bother with the likes of you, boyo, so just relax, will ya?”
“Forget it. I’m not staying here with that woman and all those kids. You got that? Send Hank back for me. Now.”
“No can do, buddy. Tell Maudie hi for me and call me at the end of the summer. We’ll talk then about you coming back for that physical.”
“Wait a minute! Don’t you—”
A click sounded and the dial tone droned. Matt jerked the receiver away from his ear and glared at it, then slammed the instrument down so hard it jumped off the base and he had to hang it up again.
With a frustrated growl he flung himself back on the bed and turned the air blue with curses. He didn’t give a rat’s nose if Dr. Maude Ann Edwards heard him. In fact, he hoped she did. Maybe she’d give him the boot.
“The children will be down in a minute,” Maude Ann announced as she returned to the kitchen. “I left Yolanda supervising their hand-washing.”
“Humph, somebody has to,” Jane said. That scamp Dennis acts like soap and water are poison. So does Tyrone.”
Maude Ann’s throaty laugh rolled out. “I know. Dennis just tried to convince me his hands weren’t dirty because he’d kept them in his pockets all day.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “What those two don’t think of the devil hasn’t invented yet.” Standing in front of the big, six-burner commercial stove, she stirred a pot of gravy. “If that policeman fella is going to join us for dinner he’d better shake a leg, ’cause it’s almost ready.”
Maude Ann removed an enormous pan of biscuits from the oven. Steam rose from them filling the kitchen with a delicious aroma. She glanced at the door that connected Matt’s room to the kitchen. “He hasn’t so much as stuck his head out of there, has he?”
“Nope. I got back three hours ago and I haven’t seen hide nor hair of the man. Haven’t heard a sound outta him, either. You sure he’s in there? Maybe he decided to walk up to the highway and hitch a ride back to Houston.”
“Not likely. In his condition he wouldn’t make it a hundred yards.” Maude Ann chewed on her lower lip. “I suppose I should knock on his door and let him know it’s dinnertime.”
“Humph,” Jane poured the gravy into a gravy boat and set it on the table with a decisive thud. “I’d let him stew in his own juice, if it was me. Never could abide a foul-tempered man.”
“Detective Dolan isn’t foul-tempered, exactly. He’s just…well, intense is the word, I guess.” Maude Ann pulled two crocks of butter from the refrigerator and placed one at each end of the table. Unable to resist, she picked off a chunk of hot biscuit and popped it into her mouth, and immediately closed her eyes in ecstasy. “Mmm, heaven. Jane, you really are going to have to teach me how to make biscuits like these.”
“I’m willing. The problem is you never have a spare minute.”
Maude Ann sighed. “True.” She glanced at the closed bedroom door again and resigned herself. “Well, I guess I’ll have to call him. I can’t let him skip dinner. In his condition he needs all the nourishment he can get.”
“Suit yourself. While you roust him out, I’m going to go see what’s keeping those young’uns. It’s too quiet up there by far.”
Jane marched out of the kitchen with a militant step and headed for the stairs.
Wiping her hands on the towel slung over her shoulder, Maude Ann went to the door and tapped on it lightly. “Detective? Dinner is ready.”
She waited a few seconds, but there was only silence on the other side of the door. “Detective Dolan?” she called again.
She hesitated, then turned the knob, eased the door open and stuck her head inside. “Detective Dolan, are you in here?”
The sun had almost set and the light coming through the windows was rosy and dim. At first Maude Ann thought the room was empty, but as she crept inside she saw him through the gloaming, lying back motionless across the bed, his arms flung over his head.
Her heart leapt with fear and guilt. Dear Lord, was he dead? If so, it was her fault. How could she have let him stay in here by himself for so long without bothering to check on him? The man had just gotten out of the hospital a few hours ago.
Holding her breath, she moved closer to the bed. When she finally stood over him and spotted the steady rise and fall of his chest, she closed her eyes. Thank God. He had only fallen asleep.
She opened her eyes and stepped even closer, intending to nudge him, but she hesitated. Tipping her head to one side, she took shameless advantage of his unguarded state to study him.
As her gaze ran over his face, her own softened and her tender heart contracted. He looked so exhausted, so pale. So defenseless. How sad it was, she thought, for this proud, strong man to be reduced to a state of near helplessness.
He had incredibly long eyelashes for a man, she noticed for the first time. They lay like feathery black fans against his skin. Beneath their sweep, bruiselike shadows formed dark circles under his eyes.
Her eyes trailed down his body and her concern deepened. Though a big man, Matt had always kept himself trim, but now he looked much too thin.
Never in a million years would she have thought to see Matt Dolan brought down to such a state. How very close he’d come to losing his life, Maude Ann thought. As her darling Tom had two years ago.
Through Matt’s light blue shirt she could see the faint outline of a bandage on his right side and the bulge of another one beneath the denim covering his right thigh.
They were sure to need changing regularly, yet she knew that any offer to help him would meet with a curt refusal.
Suddenly Maude Ann realized that Matt must have fallen into a deep sleep, no doubt involuntarily, soon after making his telephone call. His sneakered feet were still flat on the floor and around his body the cream-colored chenille bedspread was undisturbed.
Compassion softened her face. Poor man. The trip from Houston must have exhausted him. Apparently he hadn’t moved so much as a muscle in more than three hours.
