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“My sister’s a great doctor. Don’t worry.”
Sarah glanced around the empty parking lot. The lonely country road beyond that. Her stomach knotted.
Suddenly, she was irrationally angry at this man who, on the surface, only wanted to help her.
“You shouldn’t have brought me here,” she bit out.
Under the white glow from the spotlights illuminating the building and parking lot, a flash of something raced across his features. For the second time since she had met him earlier tonight, she noticed the vulnerability in his face. He turned to her, a look of apology in his eyes. “Let my sister take a look. Just a look. If after that you want to go home, I’ll take you. No questions asked.” He cracked his door and the dome light popped on.
Nodding, Sarah squinted against the brightness. Her stomach felt queasy.
The first rule of disappearing—her personal rule—was not to get involved with anyone. Nick Jennings looked a lot like someone who might be worth breaking a rule for.
If only he weren’t a police officer.
Sarah knew more than anyone that sometimes even the guys who were supposed to be good weren’t.
Jimmy Braeden, her stalker ex-boyfriend, was a prime example. Her ex was a cop. And if tonight was any indication, he may have finally found her.
Goose bumps raced across her arms and she shuddered. She turned and saw her hollow eyes in the reflection of the passenger window.
“Okay,” she said, part agreement, part sigh, “I’ll let your sister take a look.” Her acquiescence was mostly to get inside, out of the open. Away from the crosshairs of an abusive man who threatened he’d kill her before he’d ever let her go.
TWO (#ulink_587aaf83-f356-5855-9736-763decae2e34)
Sarah’s vision narrowed tunnellike as she climbed out of the deputy’s vehicle in the parking lot of the health-care clinic. In a flash, Nick moved next to her and grabbed her arm. Her first instinct was to pull away.
Run.
She blinked up at him.
“Are you okay? Here, sit.” His words sounded distant, jumbled in her ears. She was only partially aware of him yanking open the car door she had just slammed shut and ushering her to a seated position inside his vehicle. He crouched down in front of her and studied her eyes. “Are you dizzy?”
“I stood up too fast.” She had learned to make excuses to cover her panic attacks. It was less embarrassing this way. Her feelings were irrational, self-created, yet she couldn’t always control them.
“You’ve had a head injury.”
Sarah absentmindedly reached up and touched her head and pulled her fingers away, sticky with her own blood. Her stomach lurched and she shoved back a million memories of another time her head had been bleeding. Back then, the man with her hadn’t offered to help. No, it took several hours and a heaping dose of remorse before he came back to her, pleading for forgiveness with a promise to never lift a hand to her again.
Until the next time.
“Do you think you can make it into the clinic? If not, I can get a wheelchair from inside.”
Embarrassment edged out her feelings of anxiety, two emotions that twined around her lungs and made it difficult to breathe. “I can walk in.” One thing her ex-boyfriend had taught her was to pretend to be tough.
She had gotten good at pretending. At a lot of things.
Sarah stood and the officer hung close by her side, holding her elbow. He obviously wasn’t convinced. When they reached the door of the health-care clinic, it was locked. He buzzed the intercom and a crackling voice responded. “Who is it?”
“Christina, it’s Nick. I have a patient for you to examine.” He was talking into the intercom but his intense brown eyes were locked on hers, unnerving her.
“Urgent?” came his sister’s one word response.
“No, a few stitches.”
“Not a good idea,” Sarah muttered. She tried to pull away, but Nick gripped her arm tighter. She winced and he eased his hold, but not completely. She must have appeared as unsteady as she felt.
“I’m not going to let you go home with a head wound. I don’t want to get a call that you ended up dying in your sleep.”
Sarah wasn’t sure if his words were an exaggeration to wear down her resistance or a flat-out lie. She hardly thought her injury was that serious. “I was cut by glass, not hit by the rock.” She lifted her eyebrows and could feel the stiffness of the dried blood on her forehead.
The annoying buzzer released the lock on the door. As the deputy pulled it open, he whispered, “I’m trying to help you. Are you going to fight me every step of the way?”
She shrugged. She imagined she’d thank him one day for insisting she be treated for the cut on her head, sparing her from a lifetime of explaining how she got the scar, but today wasn’t that day.
They reached the dated waiting room. Dark stains—including a now-black piece of bubblegum—marred the bluish-gray carpet. Nick didn’t ask her to sit down on one of the blue plastic chairs, something her pounding head definitely would have appreciated. Instead he guided her through the office with a gentle hand on her waist and found his sister on the phone in the back.
The attractive woman, her long dark hair pulled up into a messy bun, mouthed without making a sound, “Give me a minute.” Her gaze traveled the length of Sarah, a scrutiny Sarah had tried to avoid at all costs since she had moved into the small cottage in Apple Creek and set up her quiet practice through the church.
Sarah’s face heated and the urge to flee nearly overwhelmed her. Don’t have a panic attack. Don’t have a panic attack.
The physician pointed at the open door of an adjacent examination room. Nick understood the silent directive and led Sarah into the room. At his insistence, she sat on the exam table, the white, protective paper crinkling as she scooted back. Nick stood sentinel at her side, and an awkward silence joined the steady hum of an air conditioner. Sarah was grateful for the cool air blowing across her skin.
The doctor’s appearance in the doorway was never more welcomed. Her gaze went from her brother to Sarah and back to her brother.
“Sarah was cut by broken glass. Someone threw a rock through the basement window of the church.”
If Sarah hadn’t been watching the doctor’s face, she might have missed the slight flinch. “The church, huh? Is nothing sacred?”
Sarah lifted a shoulder, finding it difficult to respond.
“I don’t have insurance,” Sarah repeated her lie. “I can pay over time if that’s okay?”
“We treat a lot of patients without insurance. We’ll figure something out. First things first.” The physician grabbed a clipboard. “Do you mind filling out this form?”
Sarah took the clipboard in her shaky hands and stared at it. Her pulse rushed in her head and the letters forming the words Name, Address, Phone number scrambled in her field of vision. She placed the clipboard down on the crinkly white paper and slid off the table.
Nick gently touched her elbow.
The world shifted around Sarah, and she grabbed the smooth vinyl edge of the table to steady herself. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here.”
“You need to have that cut looked at.” Nick, in his crisp sheriff’s uniform, loomed over her, his commanding voice vibrating through her. The walls grew close. Too close.
Sarah pushed past him. “I don’t have to do anything.”
“Wait,” the physician said. Instinctively, Sarah stopped in her tracks. “You.” The physician pointed at her brother. “Wait outside.” She turned to Sarah. “And you. Please, let me look at your injuries.”
A small smile touched the attractive doctor’s face. “You don’t have to fill out any paperwork.”
Sarah let out a long sigh, and without meeting Nick’s gaze, she returned to the exam table. The deputy slipped outside and closed the door.
The physician examined her in silence. The young doctor smelled like flowers and coconut lotion. She brushed a damp gauze pad across Sarah’s wound. “I’d feel better if we put a few stitches in this cut. I’d hate for you to have a huge scar.”
“Do you really think that’s necessary, Dr. Jennings?” Sarah didn’t notice a wedding ring on her finger, and since she was the deputy’s sister, she made the leap that her last name was the same as Nick’s.
“Yes, I do. And feel free to call me Christina. If I wanted to be Dr. Jennings I would have stayed at the big research hospital where I did my residency before I opened this clinic.”
Christina got out her instruments, and Sarah found herself wrapping her fingers around the edge of the table as another wave of panic crested below the surface.
“Perhaps you should lie down. I’d hate for you to pass out while I’m working on you.” With her hand to Sarah’s shoulder, Christina guided her patient to a supine position.
Christina cleaned the wound with a cool swab. “I’m glad you caught me. I was about to close up for the night.” The doctor ran the back of her protective glove across her forehead. “It’s been a long day, and the paperwork is endless.”
As Christina leaned in close to examine Sarah’s wound, Sarah noticed creases lined the physician’s pretty brown eyes, making her a few years older than Sarah first would have guessed.
“Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time. I had tried to tell your brother I didn’t need medical attention.”
Christina made a sound with her lips pressed together, a cross between an “I see” and “let me make that decision.” Sarah didn’t ask what she meant by that because she figured it didn’t matter. If she got these stitches maybe Nick would leave her alone and she’d resume her quiet life. God willing.
Unless Jimmy had found her...
Sarah swallowed back her nausea, fearing if she let her worries take root, she’d have a full-blown anxiety attack.
Dear Lord, protect me and please, please, please keep me safe from Jimmy.
They fell into silence as Christina focused on the task of suturing Sarah’s wound. After Christina finished, she placed a small bandage across Sarah’s forehead near her hairline. Christina smiled at her work. “I think that should heal nicely. My father once suggested I go into plastic surgery, but my heart had more humble goals.” Christina’s brown eyes met Sarah’s as if to say, “So, here I am in this small-town health-care clinic.”
Christina held Sarah’s hand and helped her swing around to a seated position. The physician tipped her head and met Sarah’s eyes. “You feel okay?”
Sarah nodded. As good as I’m going to feel under the circumstances. But she kept that thought to herself. She had learned to keep a lot of things to herself over the past six months. And even before that.
Christina turned her back to Sarah and put a few instruments onto a tray. “Is there anything you’d like to share with me?”
Emotion rose in Sarah’s throat, and she cut her gaze toward the door. The need for escape was strong. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Christina turned around slowly. “I’ve seen a lot working in a rural health-care clinic.” She tipped her chin toward the discarded clipboard. “You didn’t want to share any personal information. What or who are you hiding from?”
Sarah’s cheeks flared hot. “I’m...” The lie died on her lips. She had mentally trained herself to deny, deny, deny even though deceit went against her Christian upbringing. White lies were a matter of self-preservation. She prayed God would understand.
Sarah looked at the closed door. Christina was bound by doctor-patient confidentiality. Sarah closed her eyes and made a decision. She’d confide in Christina.
Sarah swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I came to Apple Creek to get away from my ex-boyfriend.”
“He’s abusive.”
“Yes. I feared if I stayed in Buffalo, he’d kill me.”
Christina reached out and squeezed Sarah’s hand. “I’m sorry.” She narrowed her gaze. “Do you think he found you? Do you think he could have been the one to throw the rock through the window? To scare you?”
“No, no. No one knows where I am.” Sarah hoped saying the words out loud would make them true.
“No one?”
“Only the pastor and his wife. And our pastor back home. My mother also knows where I am. It gives her some peace to know.”
Christina flattened her lips and nodded, as if giving it some thought.
“And my brother?”
Sarah shook her head, her eyes flaring wide. “No, I just met your brother tonight.”
“My brother’s a deputy. He can protect you.”
“My ex-boyfriend’s a cop. He’s on the force in Orchard Gardens, a suburb of Buffalo.” Sarah’s voice grew soft, dejected. “He didn’t protect me.”
Christina twisted her lips. “My brother’s a good guy.”
Sarah gingerly touched the bandage on her forehead. “A lot of people think Officer Jimmy Braeden is a good guy. Do you know how hard it is to file a police report when his brothers in blue think he’s such a great guy?” All the old hurt and pain twisted in her gut. “No thanks.”
“I think you’d be safer if someone in law enforcement here in Apple Creek knew to be on the lookout for him. Where do you live?”
A little voice in the back of Sarah’s head was growing louder and louder: Don’t tell her. Don’t let her in. He’ll find you.
“I rented the cottage on the Zook’s property.” A knot in her chest eased a fraction. It felt good to confide in someone. Was Christina right? Should she let Nick in on her secret?
“I don’t want anyone else to know what I’m running away from. I’m safer this way,” Sarah blurted before she changed her mind.
“What about tonight? Do you think he found you?”
The heat of anxiety rippled across Sarah’s skin. “Tonight was just some kids.”
“But you don’t know that.”
“There’s no way Jimmy knows where I am.”
“Are you sure?” The tone of the doctor’s voice sent cold shards shooting through Sarah’s veins.
Sarah shoved back her shoulders, trying to muster a confidence she didn’t feel. “I have stayed off the radar for six months. No car. No credit card purchases. I’ve been careful about contact with anyone from my past. There’s no way he can know I’m here.” And if Jimmy had found her, he wouldn’t have simply thrown a rock through the window and fled. He would have stayed, stormed into the basement and killed her.
Unless he wanted to terrorize her first. Make a game of it. Jimmy loved nothing more than playing games. Games that were stacked in his favor.
Sarah shook her head both to answer Christina’s question and to shake away her constant irrational thoughts. This is what Jimmy had done to her. Not just the physical abuse, he had made her question her own sanity.
She had to flee Buffalo to save herself physically, emotionally and professionally. Jimmy was able to poke so many holes in her accusations that her job as a social worker for the county had been in jeopardy.
Christina ran a hand across her chin. “If you’re running away, why only go an hour from Buffalo? You could have gone anywhere. The other side of the country.”
“It’s twofold really. The pastor of my old church had a connection here in Apple Creek. They needed a social worker. And my mother still lives in the area.”
