Unfinished Business(50)

“Dr. Tucker’s taking care of him. He’s a very good doctor.”

“He takes care of my mom.” She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. “He’s going to deliver the baby and all, but Grandpa, he’s real old. He fell down. He just got all funny-looking and fell down.”

“Dr. Tucker was right here.” She stroked Annie’s flyaway hair. “If he was going to get sick, it was the best place for it. When he’s better, you can play your new song for him.”

“The Madonna song?”#p#分页标题#e#

“That’s right.” She heard the wail of am ambulance. “They’re coming to take him to the hospital.”

“Will Dr. Tucker go with him?”

“I’m sure he will.” She watched as the attendants hurried out with a stretcher. Brady spoke to them briskly, giving instructions. She saw him put his hands on Annie’s mother’s shoulders, speaking slowly, calmly, while she looked up at him with trust and tears in her eyes. When Brady started after the stretcher, Vanessa gave Annie a last squeeze.

“Why don’t you go sit with your mother for a minute? She’ll be scared.” How well she knew, Vanessa thought. She remembered the fear and despair she had felt when they had taken her own father. Turning, she rushed after Brady.

“Brady.” She knew she couldn’t waste his time. When he turned, she saw the concern, the concentration and the impatience in his eyes. “Please let me know how—what happens.”

He nodded, then climbed in the rear of the ambulance with his patient.



It was nearly midnight when Brady pulled up in front of his house. There was a sliver of a moon, bone-white against a black sky studded with stars as clear as ice. He sat where he was for a moment, letting his muscles relax one by one. With his windows down he could hear the wind sighing through the trees.

The fatigue of an eighteen-hour-day had finally caught up with him on the drive home. He was grateful Jack had brought his car to the hospital. Without it, he would have been tempted to stretch out in the lounge. Now all he wanted was to ease his tired body into a hot tub, turn on the jets and drink a cold beer.

The lights were on downstairs. He was glad he’d forgotten to turn them off. It was less depressing to come home to an empty house if the lights were on. He’d detoured into town on the way home and driven by Vanessa’s. But her lights had been out.

Probably for the best, he thought now. He was tired and edgy. Hardly the mood for patient, sensible talk. Maybe there was an advantage to letting her stew over the fact that he was in love with her.

And maybe there wasn’t. He hesitated, his hand on the door. What the hell was wrong with him, he wondered. He’d always been a decisive man. When he’d decided to become a doctor, he’d gone after his degree with a vengeance. When he’d decided to leave his hospital position in New York and come home to practice general medicine, he’d done so without a backward glance or a whisper of regret.

Life-altering decisions, certainly. So why the hell couldn’t he decide what to do about Vanessa?

He was going back to town. If she didn’t answer her door, he would climb up the damn rainspout and crawl in her bedroom window. One way or the other, they were going to straighten this mess out tonight.

He’d already turned away and started back to his car when the door to the house opened.

“Brady?” Vanessa stood in the doorway, the light at her back. “Aren’t you coming in?”

He stopped dead and stared at her. In a gesture of pure frustration, he dragged a hand through his hair. Was it any wonder he couldn’t decide what to do about her? She’d never been predictable. Kong raced out of the house, barking, and jumped on him.

“Jack and Joanie dropped us off.” Vanessa stood, twisting the doorknob back and forth. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No.” With the dog racing in circles around him, he started back to the house. Vanessa stepped back, out of reach.

“I brought some leftovers from the picnic. I didn’t know if you’d have a chance to get any dinner.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Mr. Benson?”

“Stabilized. It was shaky for a while, but he’s tough.”

“I’m glad. I’m so glad. Annie was frightened.” She rubbed her hands on her thighs, linked her fingers together, pulled them apart, then stuck them in the pockets of her skirt. “You must be exhausted—and hungry. There’s plenty of food in the fridge. The, ah, kitchen looks wonderful.” She gestured vaguely. “The new cabinets, the counters, everything.”