“I think I may love her.”
“Love her?” Nicholas shook his head. “Not possible.”
“Why? Because you don’t feel the same?”
“I never said that.”
“Then what is it? Because she was only with us for a few hours?”
“We haven’t known her that long.”
“Love has nothing to do with time, Nicholas. My grandparents knew one another for twelve days before they were married. They were together for sixty-five years and never spent a night apart. You think she thought Grandpa didn’t love her when he married her? Why, shit no. He loved her from the moment he saw her.”
Nicholas turned back to face the river and the mountains. “Sunset sure is pretty. Maybe someday we’ll bring Sable here.”
“I hope so.” Trevor rested his hand on Nicholas’s shoulder. “You’ve never been in love, Nicholas, so maybe you don’t know yet, but if you search your heart, I think you’ll find you have some strong feelings for Sable, too.”
Nicholas thinned his lips. He was ready to call it a day and he knew how he wanted to spend the rest of the evening. “We should be out there looking for her.”
Trevor grinned. “As it turns out, the others are already up at the processing center waiting on us. We’re going to see that sheriff in Drover and if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll tell us where to find our girl.”
Chapter Seven
Jackson Square Memorial Hospital
Drover Station, Tennessee
“You need something, Markie?” The egotistical asshole behind the condescending voice remained hidden but Markie knew where to look for bastards with perceived power. They typically found a way to place barriers between themselves and those they tried to intimidate, particularly when they were using an authoritative tone laced with an equal serving of evil and arrogance. “I asked you a question.”
Jarred from his thoughts, Markie turned. He glared at the desk behind the glass enclosure. Dr. Vance Sheldon leaned halfway through the reception window. His dark eyes and the shadows underneath made him look a little more sinister than Markie remembered and it took him aback for a moment or more.
“Cat got your tongue, Markie?”
“My tongue is in fine shape. If anyone can attest to that, you can.” Markie practically purred with his smile. The color washed away from Vance’s cheeks and Markie quickly added, “Someone here called for my assistance.”
The unmistakable racket of glass sliding across the aluminum track ricocheted off the walls as the good doctor slammed the window shut, placing a more definite obstacle between the medical professionals and those seated in the waiting area.
Fury settled in Vance’s eyes. With ten or so witnesses on either side of the glass, Vance’s seething glares were the least of Markie’s worries. In a matter of minutes, the doctor would likely have Markie removed from Jackson Square Memorial Hospital.
Rather than play immature games with the more foolish of men, Markie paced the otherwise warm and welcoming waiting area. Contemporary furnishings with rich woods and connecting chairs and benches lined the room. Patients flipped through magazines or studied the large flat screen elevated in the center of the room.
“This way.” A nurse dressed in bright pink scrubs approached with quick steps. She didn’t slow down, wave her arm, crook her finger, or even make eye contact. A smarter man probably wouldn’t have followed her.
Then again, Markie had old scores to settle. More importantly, he was at Jackson Square for a specific reason.
Three doors opened. Three doors closed. They walked through another crowded waiting room and Markie stayed right on the nurse’s heels until they reached the emergency room. “In there.” She nodded her head and turned to walk away.
“Whoa there, missy.” Markie crossed his right arm over his chest, propping up his left elbow so he could closely observe his recently polished nails. “I didn’t catch your name, sweet thang.”
“I didn’t give it,” she bit out, making a point to slam her clipboard against her chest, likely to hide her nametag.
“I understand, sugar,” Markie said, deliberately gaze groping and trying to come up with a nickname. “Well if it’s gonna be like this, I’ll just name ya.” He stretched his neck and stared at her plump backside. “Hmmm….Ah yes. I have one for you. Ample cheeks. Name fits.”
To Markie’s surprise, she fired back with, “You think I don’t know who or what you are?” She balked at that. “You think you can waltz in here and act like you own the place, belittle our fine doctors, and talk to the staff members like we’re beneath you. Is that what you think?”
Markie inched forward. Trying to bite back the temper people like this nurse and Vance Sheldon often summoned, Markie said, “All men and women are created equal. I believe that, ample cheeks. Some of us just know how to treat others—and I’m not talking about healthcare here. You and your staff judged me as soon as you saw me. It’s only fair to return the favor.”
Feeling vindicated, he turned to the light blue curtain and pecked on the glass behind it. “Miss Samms?”