up.”
“I need to call my insurance company. I have renter’s insurance on my apartment, and the office is fully covered.”
“You can do all that later. First, we need to have a talk.”
Nate sighed. “Why do I not like the sound of that?”
“Because I think you know what I’m about to say. Nate, don’t you think it’s just too much of a coincidence that on the same night you receive a blow to the head, Amy and Mike, the only friends you have in town, are called to the bedside of a sick aunt over seven hundred miles away. The very same night that your apartment is trashed and your office is vandalized.”
“You aren’t suggesting that Amy and Mike had something to do with this?” Nate looked ready to do battle, even as tired as he obviously was.
“Of course not. I believe the man who hit you set it up so that Amy and Mike would get that call and leave you with no choice but to go home to your apartment. I think he went there to kill you, Nate.”
Chapter 3
Finding out someone wanted you dead was a lot easier when you had somebody to lean on. When Brandon called his office and told them he would be at home for the rest of the day, Nate almost wept with relief. In less than twenty-four hours, Brandon Nash had gone from perfect stranger to pillar of strength. Every time Nathan tried to sink into himself, Bran was there to pull him right back out.
Finally, after hours spent dealing with the insurance company and worrying about why he still hadn’t heard from Mike and Amy, Nate was ragged to the point of exhaustion. He made no protest when Brandon led him upstairs and tucked him into bed. He was asleep before Brandon could close the door behind him.
* * *
During his years at Atlanta Northern, Nate learned how to sleep through almost anything. Sleeping in the on-call room was something every doctor did at one time or another, especially a doctor in charge of critically ill newborns whose condition could take a turn for the worse at any given moment.
Despite all that conditioning, Nate came awake with a start the minute he felt cool fingertips fluttering across his forehead. He opened his eyes expecting to see Brandon, not a five-foot female with red hair and eyes the same color as the sheriff’s.
“Sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to wake you up. I was just checking to make sure you don’t have a fever. Brandon said you threw-up this morning.”
“Yes ma’am, I did, but—”
“I know. All that blood would have made me sick, too. I could just about throttle that son of mine for taking you into such a mess in the first place. And you with a head injury, too.”
“Your son?”
“Yes, of course. Brandon—” She stopped for a minute. “Good grief. I forgot to even introduce myself. I’m Gale Nash, Brandon’s mother.”
Gale was a beauty. To look at her, no one would guess she was pushing sixty. She was short and trim, with a pixie’s face and the same dazzling smile as Brandon. Nate fell in love with her at once.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m—”
“Nathan Morris, but Brandon calls you Nate.”
“Yes, ma’am, he does.”
Gale sat down in the chair next to the bed. “So, sweetie, how are you holding up?”
“I’m alright.”
“No offense, Nathan, but I’m a mother, and I can tell when one of my children is just telling me what I want to hear. You, my boy, are definitely not alright.”
Nate was about to argue when those damn tears started up. Before he knew it, he was being held and rocked against a warm breast that smelled of Channel Number Five and allspice. The comfort of the scents and the feel of being held by a mother, even if she wasn’t his own, was too much for Nate. He sobbed like a man whose heart was breaking.
When he was finally able to pull himself together, Gale handed him a tissue and waited patiently while he swabbed his eyes and blew his nose.
“Mrs. Nash, I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over
“I need to call my insurance company. I have renter’s insurance on my apartment, and the office is fully covered.”
“You can do all that later. First, we need to have a talk.”
Nate sighed. “Why do I not like the sound of that?”
“Because I think you know what I’m about to say. Nate, don’t you think it’s just too much of a coincidence that on the same night you receive a blow to the head, Amy and Mike, the only friends you have in town, are called to the bedside of a sick aunt over seven hundred miles away. The very same night that your apartment is trashed and your office is vandalized.”
“You aren’t suggesting that Amy and Mike had something to do with this?” Nate looked ready to do battle, even as tired as he obviously was.
“Of course not. I believe the man who hit you set it up so that Amy and Mike would get that call and leave you with no choice but to go home to your apartment. I think he went there to kill you, Nate.”
Chapter 3
Finding out someone wanted you dead was a lot easier when you had somebody to lean on. When Brandon called his office and told them he would be at home for the rest of the day, Nate almost wept with relief. In less than twenty-four hours, Brandon Nash had gone from perfect stranger to pillar of strength. Every time Nathan tried to sink into himself, Bran was there to pull him right back out.
Finally, after hours spent dealing with the insurance company and worrying about why he still hadn’t heard from Mike and Amy, Nate was ragged to the point of exhaustion. He made no protest when Brandon led him upstairs and tucked him into bed. He was asleep before Brandon could close the door behind him.
* * *
During his years at Atlanta Northern, Nate learned how to sleep through almost anything. Sleeping in the on-call room was something every doctor did at one time or another, especially a doctor in charge of critically ill newborns whose condition could take a turn for the worse at any given moment.
Despite all that conditioning, Nate came awake with a start the minute he felt cool fingertips fluttering across his forehead. He opened his eyes expecting to see Brandon, not a five-foot female with red hair and eyes the same color as the sheriff’s.
“Sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to wake you up. I was just checking to make sure you don’t have a fever. Brandon said you threw-up this morning.”
“Yes ma’am, I did, but—”
“I know. All that blood would have made me sick, too. I could just about throttle that son of mine for taking you into such a mess in the first place. And you with a head injury, too.”
“Your son?”
“Yes, of course. Brandon—” She stopped for a minute. “Good grief. I forgot to even introduce myself. I’m Gale Nash, Brandon’s mother.”
Gale was a beauty. To look at her, no one would guess she was pushing sixty. She was short and trim, with a pixie’s face and the same dazzling smile as Brandon. Nate fell in love with her at once.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m—”
“Nathan Morris, but Brandon calls you Nate.”
“Yes, ma’am, he does.”
Gale sat down in the chair next to the bed. “So, sweetie, how are you holding up?”
“I’m alright.”
“No offense, Nathan, but I’m a mother, and I can tell when one of my children is just telling me what I want to hear. You, my boy, are definitely not alright.”
Nate was about to argue when those damn tears started up. Before he knew it, he was being held and rocked against a warm breast that smelled of Channel Number Five and allspice. The comfort of the scents and the feel of being held by a mother, even if she wasn’t his own, was too much for Nate. He sobbed like a man whose heart was breaking.
When he was finally able to pull himself together, Gale handed him a tissue and waited patiently while he swabbed his eyes and blew his nose.
“Mrs. Nash, I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over
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