Authors: Marie Ferrarella
been with a woman. The whole thing had seemed trivial and uneventful. Try as he might, he
couldn't even remember the woman's face.
Patience's face was etched in his brain. He had to stop. Before he couldn't.
Pulling back, Brady placed his hands on the sides of her shoulders, as if he needed the
physical wedge to hold himself in check. When he spoke, his voice was gruff. "You'd better
go inside, it's getting chilly."
He watched in complete fascination as the smile in her eyes filtered to her lips. "Not from
where I'm standing."
She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. It was going to take a little more than
that, she decided. But Brady was right, she had better go inside before she wound up
doing something they'd both regret. She took a step back, seeking the shelter of the
doorway. Feeling the chill he was talking about.
"Thanks for stopping by."
It was his suggestion, born of common sense, but he found that he couldn't make himself
walk away just yet. "You'll be all right?"
She nodded. "Nothing's going to happen." Digging into her pocket, she produced the card
he'd given her the other day, the one with his cell phone number, and held it up. "And if it
does, help is only a phone call away."
He'd been thinking of himself instead of her. "Listen, if you're uneasy—"
Patience looked at him for a very long moment. She still felt wobbly.
"Oh, I'm uneasy all right, but Walter Payne has nothing to do with it." And then she
grinned. "Worse comes to worst, I can take Walter." She saw Brady raise his eyebrow in a silent question. "Patrick taught me moves guaranteed to make any would-be assailant run
for the hills."
"Don't get too confident." He didn't want her letting her guard down. Payne might still
surprise them all.
She laughed softly. "Right, that's for someone like you to be."
Brady shook his head. "Too confident is the last thing I am." That kiss had all but
destroyed his resolve, showing him just how vulnerable he was. And then, because he had
admitted too much, Brady began to leave. "Don't forget to lock up."
"Yes, Officer Coltrane."
He looked at her over his shoulder. She was grinning. Brady shook his head and went to his
car. He waited until he heard the chain moved into place and the click of the lock as she
flipped it.
The man in the shadows had seen it all, witnessed it all, and cursed the day that the
patrolman had ever been born. For one heated moment he thought about taking revenge on
him, thought about eliminating the policeman from the mix. Permanently.
But that would just be wasting his time. Because with Coltrane gone, there'd be someone
else who'd come along. Someone else she'd want to kiss instead of him.
No, the way to eliminate the competition would be to take Patience away from any
temptation. And then she would be his.
Forever.
The way he'd always felt it was meant to be right from the very first time she'd looked
at him, standing in the middle of the exam room, so innocent and pure in her white lab coat.
"Soon," he promised himself and the silhouette that appeared in the second-story window.
"Soon."
He took out his binoculars.
"Coltrane sent you here, didn't he?"
Josh turned what she could only term as a perfectly confused face toward her when she
confronted him with the question a day later. She came to this conclusion when the
patrolman and Gonzo had turned up unexpectedly in her exam room.
Josh had apologized for the unscheduled lunch-time visit, but he said he felt that it was
justified. He'd noticed Gonzo had been biting his paws a great deal the last couple of days.
A close examination of the dog's paws failed to reveal the familiar pink hue of a dog
chewing on his pads, causing her to feel that Josh had fabricated the excuse just to look
in on her. That meant it was Brady's doing and that she was now under unofficial police
protection.
There was no other assumption she could logically make and while this was sweet and
comforting in its own way, this "protection" also interfered with her practice. It was one thing to care for the K-9 unit when there was an emergency, but quite another when she
did it for no other reason than because she needed looking out for.
Josh frowned. "Why would Coltrane have anything to do with Gonzo's sore paws?"
She crossed the initial notation she'd made in the dog's chart and tossed the file onto
the side counter. "Because Gonzo's paws look perfectly fine to me."
"He just started chewing on them. A couple of days ago," Josh added.
He was lying, Patience thought, but she played along with it since what she proposed would
do no harm to the animal. She opened a cabinet and took out a small pump bottle, then
offered the same to Josh.
"Okay, then spray this on his paws when you get home this evening. That should discourage
him."
Josh turned the bottle around in his hand without bothering to read the small print on the
side. "What is it?"
"Bitter apple spray." She pet the animal's side. "He gets a mouthful of that, he's not going to want to repeat the experience."
Nodding absently, Josh slipped the small bottle into his pocket. Gonzo's snacking habits,
real or otherwise, wasn't the reason he was here. "Listen, if you're not busy later on
tonight, maybe you can show me how to spray it on properly."
Humor quirked her mouth. Noble purpose notwithstanding, nothing seemed to discourage
Josh from trying to wear her down. "And while I'm at it, maybe I should spray a little
bitter apple on myself to discourage you." She picked up Gonzo's file again, intending to
deposit it on the front counter for Shirley to file. "You graduated from college, Josh, I
think you can figure out how to use a spray."
His eyes washed over her. "C'mon, Patience, why don't you give us a try? You never know,
you might like going out with me. People do change their minds about things all the time."
"I won't." She saw his face harden. "It's not you, Josh, it's the principle of the thing. I can't get involved with a policeman, that's all there is to it. I already worry about my
uncles, my brother and my cousins. I don't want to have to worry about someone I'm
involved with, too. It would be too much for me to handle."
His expression conveyed doubt, as if for the first time since he'd known her, he didn't
believe her. "So you're not involved with Coltrane?"
The question caught her off guard. "Involved? No." Had he seen something in her eyes,
something she didn't want to even admit to herself? "What makes you say that?"
He shrugged. Rubbing Gonzo's head, he kept his eyes on her. "Just a hunch. I've seen the
way he looks at you."
There'd been nothing there for her to detect. Yes, he'd kissed her, or kissed back when
she'd kissed him, but that only meant he was human. "What, like I'm an annoyance?"
"That's not what I'd call it." He gave the dog's leash a tug and Gonzo jumped from the
table. Josh took the bottle out of his pocket and looked at it. For now, he seemed to give
up trying to change her mind. "So, how many times a day do I need to spray his feet?"
She was relieved the conversation had taken a different route. "Just at night, unless you
notice him really going at them during the day."
He nodded, pocketing the small bottle again. "He's too busy during the day busting bad
guys. So am I," he told her. "See you around, Patience."
But Patience was already out the door, on to her next patient.
After a moment, Josh left the room, as well.
She debated calling Brady.
But each time that she reached for the telephone receiver, she made herself put it down.
The game of mental hot potato went on for a day, until she told herself that she was
behaving like an idiot. What she meant to suggest was strictly for Brady's own good. She
was calling him purely for altruistic reasons, nothing more.
Altruism and because she was feeling very good. There'd been no more flowers on her
doorstep, no poems or cards to be wary of. The only conclusion she could make was that
her "admirer" had been Walter and whatever Brady had said to the man had obviously
borne fruit. Although she had learned to be cautious when it came to things within her
private life, she was beginning to feel that perhaps that whole ugly episode was finally
behind her.
And if it was, it was because of Brady.
She wanted him to know how grateful she was for the way he had discreetly handled
everything. Uncle Andrew and Aunt Rose were throwing a party. Shaw, their oldest son,
and his wife had just had a baby girl and Uncle Andrew, never reticent when it came to an
excuse for throwing a party, was pulling out all the stops. The last time she'd checked, it
seemed as if their immediate corner of the world was invited. She knew for a fact that an
invitation had been posted on the board on the first floor of the precinct. She also knew,
going by her gut feeling, that Brady wouldn't pay any attention to it. And he should.
Because she felt that being around a large, loving, albeit boisterous family might be just
what Brady needed after missing out on this in his childhood.
"What do you say, girl, shall we call him?" she askedTacoma. She took the dog tilting her head as agreement.
Patience picked up the receiver before she could talk herself out of it again.
Brady answered on the second ring. "Hello?"
Patience felt something flutter in her throat. Probably her heart. It had obviously
decided to relocate. Altruistic my foot, she thought.
"Hi, it's Patience."
"What's wrong?"
She heard the tension in his voice. A twinge of guilt waltzed through her. She should have
prefaced her greeting with a disclaimer that nothing was happening to force her to make
the call. That shewantedto make this call.
"Nothing, I just wanted to call and invite you."
There was a significant pause on the other end, and she thought for a second that he'd
lost the signal. And then she heard him ask, "To what?"
Patience took a deep breath. She made it a point to always be friendly and outgoing. This
should have been as easy as falling off a log for her. So why did she feel as if her palm was
growing damp against the telephone receiver?
"Uncle Andrew's having a party to celebrate my cousin Shaw's new baby. Patrick said
there was an invitation posted on the ground-floor board. I thought maybe, you being you,
you might have missed it."
As a matter of fact, he hadn't. He'd just chosen to ignore it because large social
gatherings weren't his thing. After hours he kept to himself, preferring King's company to
anyone else's.
Or at least he had.
"No," he told her quietly, "I didn't miss it."
She waited. Nothing. She thought about the old line about leading a horse to water. In
this case, it was dragging, not leading, and the horse had all the markings of a mule.
"So," she finally said, "are you going?"
"No."
She frowned to herself. "Why not?"
"I didn't realize it was mandatory."
She sighed. Why did this have to be so difficult? "It's not, but don't you ever loosen up?"
"I run on the beach with King."
"That's not loosening up, Coltrane, that's exercise. You can bring King, you know. He is
part of the police department and my uncle loves dogs." She had a feeling Josh would be
there, as he had on other occasions when her uncle had had an open house. Most likely, he
would bring Gonzo with him. The dog was good with children. "Why don't you ask King?
Maybe he'd like to come."
"King and I like being on our own."
She'd hoped to coax a smile out of him, but if there was one, she didn't hear it in his
voice. Patience paused, knowing she was going out on a limb. She crawled out on it anyway.
"I'd like you to come. Both of you." He said nothing. "Or just send King if you're busy."
"We'll see."
She knew what that meant. It had been one of Patrick's favorite phrases. "That's a polite
way of saying no, isn't it?"
"Maybe."
She could just picture him on the other end, scowling into the telephone. "Well, I can't
make you, but I really think it would do you good."
"And why is that?"
"Because I think you need to see that not every family is dysfunctional. That sometimes
parents really do love each other and their kids. That that's the norm and not something
else." Again there was silence on the other end of the line. For so long that she finally
ventured, "Brady? Are you there?"
"Yeah, I'm here." His voice was tight with emotions that were not allowed to break free.
"What makes you think I need to see that?"
"Because I needed to see it, to feel it," she told him.
Didn't he realize that she understood him better than he thought? Understood him
because she'd lived through what he had. She'd already told him about her childhood,
about the father who had colored her world in dark shades, just as his had. Why couldn't
Brady see that she just wanted him to get past that? To find his own place among people,
not somewhere out in the desert like a brooding hermit.
"Being around Uncle Andrew and his family was what helped keep me going when I was a
little girl."
"I'm not a little girl."
She nearly laughed at that, but knew he hadn't said it to be funny. "No, you're definitely