“Yeah, Buster just rang me,” Jake said, as he dropped his head back and looked up to the roof of his barn as Doc McBride talked. “Can’t you go over?” Jake listened as she said how busy she was and how worried she also was about Branna O’Donnell. Jake felt the weight of her expectations settle around him. He was happy to disappoint most people in his life, but his parents were a whole other ballpark. They’d cared for him and pretty much been the best parents a person could ask for, so he owed them. Add to that the fact that he was breaking his mother’s heart by walking away from what he’d trained to do and the guilt factor weighed more than a 1966 Mustang.
“I’m working here, Mom.” He gave it one more shot, then listened a while longer as she talked at him. “I can’t believe you pulled out the tears,” he muttered into the receiver. “Yeah, yeah, all right already, I’ll do it.” Shutting off the call before she could launch into another reason why he should go check on Branna O’Donnell, he shoved it onto the bench. Pulling off his coveralls, Jake then made for the sink.
“Problems?” Patrick McBride stood behind him.
“Because Branna broke herself out of the clinic, your wife thinks I need to check on her because she’s too busy to do it herself.”
“And you don’t want to?”
“I’m not a doctor anymore, Dad, but no one seems to get that fact.”
“It’s harder for your mother to understand than it is for me, son. She wanted you to take over from her one day, and still can’t believe you won’t.”
Jake dried his hands, then turned to face his father. “I can’t, Dad. I can’t do it anymore.”
He saw the sadness, the pain of a parent knowing his child was suffering, but his father didn’t push; he wasn’t made that way. Both he and the doc hadn’t asked what had happened to change their son into the broken man he’d become, and Jake hadn’t volunteered the information. He wasn’t ready to go there, and wasn’t sure he ever would be.
“I understand that, but you can do this for your mother. It’ll take you twenty minutes tops. Then she’ll be happy. And you go easy on the O’Donnell girl, Jake, not everyone grew up with parents who cared.”
“What does that have to do with Branna leaving the clinic? It was foolish, Dad, and dangerous. She has a head injury, and the studies I read on that kind of thing were not something I would ever dismiss lightly.”
“It means some people don’t live within the guidelines we do, and pushing aside the medical aspect of this, if Branna is as scared as your mother said she was about being in the clinic, then that probably outweighs common sense.”
“It was still a dumb thing to do,” Jake said.
“Maybe, but I’m sure she had her reasons, so go easy,” Patrick McBride added. “And before I forget, your mother asked me to invite you for dinner. We’re having steak.”
“Sounds good.” Jake waved a hand over his head before walking outside and jumping into his pickup. He kept telling himself to calm down, let the anger go, but as he pulled into the driveway a few minutes later, his insides were set to a slow boil. He didn’t need this shit in his life. Didn’t want to think like a doctor or, for that matter, care. He’d come home to try and sort out his head and heal, if that were possible, but he wasn’t holding out too much hope. In fact, he was fairly certain he was going to end up the hermit of Howling, holed away in his shed with two dozen cats and people arriving with food now and again. Right about now, that sounded like a good deal.
As he reached the end of her driveway, he saw her, and his hands clenched on the steering wheel. “You have to be shitting me,” he said through his teeth. She was carrying a large suitcase toward the front door.
Chapter3
Branna was dragging a suitcase from her van into the house when she saw Jake McBride’s pickup come into view. She’d hoped that the McBride’s would just leave her alone when they heard the news that she’d left the clinic without being discharged. She hoped they’d get so pissed off they’d wash their hands of her. Seems that wasn’t the case, if the storm cloud slamming the door of his pickup had any say in it. Dropping the case, she stood straight as he approached.
“What the hell are you doing, you crazy Irish woman?”
Yesterday, her head had been too fuzzy to really check him over, but today she wasn’t so lucky. In school he’d been big, but his body hadn’t filled out yet. Now it definitely had. He was one of those rare men who were big and graceful; she admired his long, even strides as he stalked toward her. Curls the color of chocolate caramel stood off his head, eyes black as midnight, large fists clenched. His movements were easy, even though he was angry. He wore a worn gray T-shirt with a tear in the shoulder over a broad chest and old shorts that stopped above his knees… and he was indecently handsome.
“About what?”
He stopped before her and drew in a deep breath through his nose, which Branna guessed was because his teeth were clenched.
“You’re not in Washington now, Branna, you’re not just a number. People here actually care what happens to you, and breaking out of the clinic in the middle of the night is not endearing you any to me or the rest of the community.” His words were deep and angry.
She didn’t want to feel guilty about what she’d done, but damn, he was making her.
“Annabelle woke and panicked. My mother thinks you’re probably lying injured in a gutter somewhere, and if I’d have seen you walk out of that clinic, I’d have blistered your ears so bad they’d still be ringing.”
She’d never seen Jake McBride snarl. In school, he was the good guy, the boy everyone wanted to be near. He’d had a way about him that drew people to his side, and he’d pretty much been nice to everyone, except her, because she hadn’t wanted anyone to be nice to her, and she definitely hadn’t reciprocated in the kindness stakes the few times he tried. In fact, not that much had changed, she realized, except that age had taught her how to be polite while keeping everyone a good arm’s length away.
She felt a stab of remorse, thinking about Annabelle and Dr. McBride; she hadn’t meant to upset them. She’d just hated being in that clinic and wasn’t used to taking other people’s feelings into consideration, so she’d just done what she needed to do and left.
“That’s a threat, McBride, and I’m reporting you.”
“Good, and I’ll tell Cubby Hawker that you have a head injury and are a few brain cells shy of the regulation dozen.”
He really was mad; a muscle was ticking in his jaw and he looked mean, but Branna refused to let herself be impressed with just how awesome he looked. She was not going to fall into that trap again; school had been bad enough. She’d spent too many hours lusting after this man, who was then a boy and trying to hide it.
