Marked for Marriage (11 page)

“And the accident occurred in what state?”

“In Texas.”

“Is that where you live?”

“I live wherever my truck and trailer take me. What are you
doing?” He had laid her jacket on the dining booth, removed his gloves and gently taken hold of her cast.

“Removing this apparatus so I can see your hand,” he replied in a no-nonsense tone. “Stay still, and I promise this won't hurt.” She was too startled to voice an objection, and his professional all-business demeanor was rather daunting, although she kept a wary eye on every move he made.

Noah wasn't even aware of her “wary” eye. He was far more interested in seeing what was under the deep-blue fabric encasing her hand, which was more of a sturdy wrap than a cast. He wasn't a bone specialist, but he'd seen this type of support before and he'd always linked it more with pulled tendons or muscles than with fractures.

“Do you see this strap?” he asked her. “I'm going to undo it so I can bare your hand.” Without waiting for a reaction from Maddie, he began working the strap loose. “Where in Texas?”

“Where what in Texas?”

“Where did the accident happen?”

“Oh. In Austin.”

“Mark said you were at a rodeo.”

“Not at. In. That's my profession…or career…or whatever you'd like to call it.” She'd dropped her wary eye to her own arm, and the gentle way he was removing what she'd considered to be totally
un
removable until her hand healed. “Are you sure you should be doing this? I was told to be careful about even getting it wet.”

“Let's leave the rodeoing to you and the doctoring to me, all right? I find your choice of profession intriguing. How'd you get started in that?”

“It's a long story that I'd rather not get into tonight.” With the cast removed, he gently unwound a gauze bandage and bared her hand. Maddie's eyes widened. “The skin on my hand looks all shriveled!”

“Your skin is fine.” He held her hand in his and peered at it from several angles. “I wish I had those X-rays, but from the small amount of swelling in this area—” he pointed “—it appears that you injured several of the metacarpal bones.”

“That's Greek to me, Doc,” Maddie said drily.

“No one explained your injuries before?” Maddie shook her head. “All right, here's a condensed anatomy lesson on the bones of the human hand. Up here, just below the bones of the forearm, the radius and ulna, are eight small bones called carpals. Four of those wrist bones articulate with the radius and ulna, and the rest are connected to the five bones of the palm, the metacarpals. Next come the phalanges, or in layman's language, your fingers.”

His explanation incited Maddie's interest, and she forgot how much she resented his intrusiveness. “So, do you think my metacarpals are healing properly?”

Noah almost laughed, which shocked him to an almost sour-faced sobriety. Laughing at a patient's question simply wasn't done, and besides, Maddie hadn't said anything funny. It was just that she tickled his funny bone like few people ever had. He didn't know why she did, but there was something about her that made him want to gather her up into a huge bear hug and laugh and be happy.

It was such a stunning departure from his normal behavior that his facial expression became even more tense and sour, and he even spoke stiffly. “Are your other injuries causing you pain? I know the medication you took this morning has worn off by now.”

“Yes, and I should have brought it with me.”

“You couldn't have. I destroyed it.”

“You
what?
” Maddie's eyes flashed angrily.

“Don't get your dander up. I have something better for you to take. It will ease your physical discomfort without messing with your mind. It's in my bag, which is in my car, which, I
hope, is still sitting out on the road with the motor running. Let's get this thing back on your hand for now, but I have a better idea for this, too.” Noah began wrapping her hand.

“My, you're just full of better ideas, and what I'd like to know is who put a nickel in your slot and made you king of the prom.”

Noah looked up from her hand and into her deep-green eyes. Laughter bubbled within him; her mixed metaphors seemed truly hilarious. But he was also enjoying the sensation of simply looking into her eyes.

Maddie suddenly felt breathless. This was one of those moments that made the permanent list in a woman's book of memories. And it was happening with Noah Martin? She gulped and held out as long as she could but finally had to suck in a big breath.

A bolt of lightning could not have affected Noah more than Maddie's revealing gasp for air. His blood pressure rose with his increased pulse rate, and all of his normal physical reactions to a sexual stimulant culminated in the pit of his stomach. Something quite powerful was developing between him and Maddie Kincaid—threatening to run wild, in fact—and he couldn't permit it!

Tearing his gaze from hers, he quickly finished up with her hand, then held her jacket up so she could slip into it. Feeling emotionally jarred and confused, Maddie got into her jacket and was almost positive that she felt his hands linger on her shoulders for just a second—a completely unnecessary contact. Frowning, she wound a woolen scarf around her head, another around her injured hand and then fished a ring of keys out of her jacket pocket.

She held them out. “Maybe you would lock up when we're outside? It's a big stretch for me to reach the door lock with the trailer so out of level.”

Noah plucked the keys from her hand. “Which key do I use?”

“That gold one with the spot of red fingernail polish on it. Do you see it?”

He saw that every key bore a spot of a different color. It was a smart and rather adorable way of keeping track of which key was which, and he again felt the urge to hug her.

Disgusted with urges he wasn't at all accustomed to feeling, he asked gruffly, “Are we finally ready to leave?”

Maddie shot him a dirty look and answered in the same nasty-voiced way. “Open the door and get going, for pity's sake! I'll be right behind you. I have to turn off the lights or they will drain my batteries dry.”

Noah realized that there was a lot about trailers he didn't know, but he certainly wasn't going to start seeking information on that subject tonight. He reached out to open the door and heard Maddie say, “Be careful. It's a long way to the ground.”

“I noticed when I climbed in,” he answered sharply, as though she thought him too dense to recall something that had occurred only minutes ago. “In fact,” he added, “I wondered how
you
managed to get yourself inside.”

“Don't let my size influence your opinion of my capabilities. I usually manage to do whatever I decide to do,” Maddie said coldly.

Now
that
was a topic he would like to pursue, Noah thought darkly while translating her egotistical declaration to mean, “I do what I want when I want, and if you or anyone else doesn't like it, tough!”

But he was ready to get out of there. Ready to return to his nice warm car and brave the hazards of driving through the blizzard from hell until he reached a safe haven, in this case, Mark Kincaid's house. Without Maddie on his hands, he would, of course, drive to his
own
home.

But he had only himself to blame for having Maddie Kincaid on his hands. He should have said a decisive, “No, sorry, but I'm just too busy,” when Mark asked him to check on his sister. Well, it would be a cold day in hell before he committed himself to another favor for anyone.

Hitching up his jacket collar around his ears, he turned his back on Maddie and opened the door of her trailer. Wind and snow hit him hard, but he forged on and took that long step to the snow-covered ground.

The lights went out inside the trailer, and Maddie became a shadowy figure in the doorway. “Here, you'd better let me help you,” he said brusquely, and held up his gloved hand toward her.

She ignored him completely and neatly swung herself down by hanging on to the assistance bar next to the door with her good hand.

“You had to prove it, didn't you?” Noah said disgustedly.

“Prove what?” The wind was louder than their voices, but she made herself heard, just as Noah had.

“How independent you are! Come on, let's get the hell away from here!” Without asking for or waiting for permission, he took her arm and said, “That's just so we don't get separated, and don't think it couldn't happen.”

Maddie knew that as well as he did, but arguing about anything in this killer storm was just too ludicrous and she said nothing.

They began trudging through the ever-deepening drifts, battling the fierce wind and blowing, billowing snow. Noah led her through the trees, and for a time she worried about actually reaching the road. He could be taking them in the wrong direction, after all. The density of the storm disoriented her, so why wouldn't it do the same to him?

But then she saw it, something dark up ahead with barely discernible globes of diffused light. It had to be Noah's car.
“Thank God,” she murmured. At this range she could admit to the weakness causing her body to tremble. And she hurt badly—her hand, almost her entire right side and her left knee. That was a new point of pain, and it concerned her. What had she done to make her left knee ache? That climb into the trailer? Just the drive from the house? The bumpy ride over ground and in between trees that had told her she was no longer on the road? The abrupt stop when she'd high-centered the truck on a log?

Suddenly despondent—she'd only wanted to make sure that Fanny was all right, and instead she'd caused a big fat mess— Maddie's eyes got teary. It could have been from the bitter cold, and God knew she could make that claim should Noah catch on to her emotional upheaval, but he couldn't possibly give a whit if she laughed or cried at this point. Obviously, he disapproved of everything she said and did, and why wouldn't he? He'd never seen any evidence of her usually dominant sane and sensible side, and Maddie's hunch was that he didn't give people too many chances. If ever a man lived with anger as a constant companion, she thought, it was Dr. Noah Martin.

Upon reaching the SUV, Noah quickly opened the passenger door and helped Maddie to get in. Giving the door a push to close it, he hurried around the front of the vehicle and got in himself. They both hooked their seat belts. The heater was throwing hot air, and the snow on Noah's face immediately began melting. He yanked off his gloves and wiped his eyes. He could see that Maddie was doing the same.

“Are you feeling all right?” he asked.

“Yes.” What else
could
she say? Getting back home was their biggest problem at the moment, not how she felt. Anyhow, her guilt over being the cause of this fiasco was worse than all of her aches and pains combined. She could tell that he thought of her as completely brainless. She really didn't
like anyone thinking of her that way, but there was precious little she could do tonight to alter his opinion.

Noah turned on the windshield wipers and cleared away some of the snow that was totally covering the glass. He'd left the defrosters off so he wouldn't have windshield ice to contend with, but now he switched them on. He got the SUV moving—very slowly, Maddie noted—and in a minute or so he turned it around and they were headed back to town.

“Apparently you know how to drive in snow,” she said.

He sent her a somewhat withering glance. “If you're going to live in this area, you'd better know how to drive in snow.”

His resentful expression and tone of voice spoke volumes for Maddie. It said clearly that he would rather not be drawn into any small talk. Maddie put her head back and shut her eyes. He was a good driver and would get them home safely. That didn't concern her, but there were other facets to her life besides the bad weather to give her pause. For instance, his confession about having destroyed her pain pills. That really was too damned nervy. Had she so much as hinted that she would like him to be her doctor in Whitehorn? Even Mark hadn't suggested that, for heaven's sake. All he'd done—according to Noah himself—was to ask Noah to drop in occasionally and check on her. So yes, Dr. Noah Martin was nervy beyond belief. And once she was home, she was going to tell him exactly what she thought of such outrageous tactics.

Noah was trying to remain relaxed behind the wheel. Gripping the wheel too tightly or overdriving was dangerous business in weather like this. The road was icy under snow that was several feet deep in drifted areas. He paid very little attention to Maddie, because all of his attention was focused on the road or rather on making sure they
stayed
on the road. He understood how Maddie could have driven a straight line into those trees as there were stretches of nothing but white
when he couldn't make out the road at all. Obviously, she hadn't taken the curve she'd missed because she simply hadn't seen it.

But she shouldn't have been out at all! he thought with a resurgence of resentment. She had risked her life for what? To visit a horse. Good Lord. Noah's lips thinned from the massive disapproval gripping his vitals, disapproval that was wholly aimed at Maddie Kincaid. He didn't like thinking that she might be a little light in the upper story, but what woman in her right mind would put a horse before her own safety, especially when she wasn't physically sound to begin with?

He heaved a long, drawn-out, put-upon sigh. It was loud enough that Maddie heard it, and she raised her head and gave Noah Martin a blistering look.
She
was the one who should be doing the melodramatic sighing!

“What a jerk,” she mumbled under her breath, and when she saw his head snap around so he could see her, she added in a louder voice, “What made you think I needed rescuing?”