The Sheriff 0f Wickham Falls (Wickham Falls Weddings Book 3) Read online

  The other difference between her ex-fiancé and the man in her kitchen was she had no intention of becoming romantically involved with him.

  Chapter Five

  Natalia parked her car in a lot behind the medical office building. She and Henry Franklin had agreed to meet two hours before they were scheduled to open for the day. She wanted to go over protocol, settle into her office and review patient records.

  Exiting the SUV, she walked around to the front of the building and rang the bell. It opened within seconds and she came face-to-face with the man with whom she would work for the next year. Natalia smiled.

  “Good morning, Dr. Franklin.”

  “Good morning and welcome aboard, Dr. Hawkins.”

  The tall, rail-thin man with graying red hair and twinkling brown eyes in a pale, angular face had been Wickham Falls’ family doctor for nearly four decades. When she first sat down with Henry, he’d admitted to hiring her sight unseen because of the recommendation from the chief of staff at the hospital where she’d worked in the ER’s trauma unit. And he’d also admired, after he had interviewed her, her decision not to leave the hospital and join her father’s practice, but to follow her dream to become a small-town doctor.

  “Thank you.”

  Henry stood off to the side. “Please come in. I don’t know if you’ve had breakfast, but I had my wife fix a little something for us.”

  “How very thoughtful of her,” Natalia said.

  She didn’t have the heart to tell the man she’d had breakfast before leaving home. The mellow, easygoing camaraderie she’d shared with Seth over dinner had lingered long after he’d helped her clean up the kitchen and then returned home. A Caesar salad, the rigatoni and sausage, warm focaccia bread, along with a couple glasses of red wine had put them in a festive mood where she found herself laughing over nonsensical antics from their childhoods. Before leaving she gave him a glass container with the pasta that he could reheat in the microwave. Natalia’s decision not to bring lunch was based on her need to become familiar with the pace of the office.

  “We’ll eat in the breakroom while I fill you in on the updates we talked about during your interview that you had suggested to counter what had been the organized chaos to which we all had become accustomed,” Henry teased.

  Natalia was impressed with the physical layout of the medical office. There was the receptionist desk behind a glassed-in partition, and a spacious reception area with a section where children could play until they were seen. Leather seating groupings and low tables with magazines, and a mounted flat-screen TV provided waiting patients with comfort and entertainment. There were two examining rooms, another for X-rays, and a bathroom for patients. There was also a private bathroom and breakroom for the staff. Both she and Henry had offices where they could conduct private consultations.

  “I know I may sound a little biased, but I have to say that my wife makes the best blueberry muffins in the county. Whenever we have the Fourth of July bake-off, she wins a prize for best muffins.”

  Seth had mentioned prizes for best dishes during the town’s Independence Day celebration. Natalia had been to state and county fairs, and now she was looking forward to an event where the entire populous turned out to celebrate. And the patriotic fervor was evident by the number of flags attached to lampposts and every storefront.

  A slight smile lifted the corners of her mouth when she saw the nameplate on the door to her office. It was obvious Henry had followed through on his promise to add her name to the office letterhead and a supply of lab coats. He had also requested she ship her professional diplomas and licenses before her arrival in order for the workmen to put them on the wall of her office. Natalia had told Henry she wanted to begin seeing patients on her first day.

  Once she bit into the still-warm, fluffy blueberry-filled muffin, Natalia knew why Henry had bragged about his wife’s baking skill. It was apparent the woman had used fresh berries.

  “I take it from your expression that you’re enjoying it.”

  She moaned under her breath as she chewed and swallowed a mouthful of deliciousness. “Oh my goodness! You’re right, Henry. This is the best muffin, blueberry aside, I’ve ever eaten.” The older doctor has insisted she call him Henry whenever they were alone because he wasn’t one to stand on ceremony.

  “I’ll definitely let her know that my partner agrees with me.”

  A slight frown furrowed Natalia’s smooth forehead. “Partner?”

  Henry nodded. “Yes. I’ve decided to bring you on as a partner instead of an assistant.” He held up his hand when Natalia opened her mouth. “Please let me finish, Natalia. You’re probably thinking you have to invest monetarily in the practice, but I won’t accept your money. Your advice about bringing the office into the twenty-first century has streamlined the paperwork, reduced staff stress and we’re able to get patients in and out a lot more quickly than in the past.”

  Henry mentioning investing in the practice reminded her of Daryl selling his condo and depleting his savings before becoming a partner at his firm. Making money had become an obsession for him because, unlike Natalia, he’d had to resort to taking out student loans to complete his college and law school education.

  Natalia did not want to take advantage of the doctor who’d dedicated more than half his life treating the disadvantaged. “I only suggested the changes to make my life and everyone else’s less stressful. So, my motives were purely selfish. And because you won’t accept any remuneration from me, then I’m going to suggest you half my salary for the next year.” Henry met her eyes, unblinking, in what had become a stare-down.

  “Okay, Natalia. But only for one year.”

  She offered him a warm smile. “Thank you.”

  With her medical license and experience she was confident enough to know she could have gotten another position with most hospitals in the country or even join her father’s practice, except that she’d grown tired of the hustle and bustle of city life. She’d grown up in Paoli, a small town about twenty-five miles outside of Philly with fewer than six thousand inhabitants. Her fondest childhood memories were of her parents driving into Philadelphia to visit a museum or attend a play and then browsing through the Reading Terminal Market. The bright lights and pulse of the city pulled her in and refused to let her go until years later when she had to escape to a place that reminded her of her childhood town.

  Henry exhaled an audible breath. “I’ve left a set of keys to the building and to your office in the desk drawer along with the code to the security system. Only you, I and the receptionist have the security code. There are panic buttons under the receptionist’s desk, and in our private offices, to be used in case of a medical emergency. The silent alarm is connected to the sheriff’s department who in turn will alert the fire department’s emergency medical technicians to transport the patient to the county hospital. And now that you’re onboard I’d like to revise our hours but that’s something we can discuss and implement by the end of the month.”

  * * *

  That afternoon, Natalia and Henry spent an hour talking about the patients they’d treated and their concerns about the escalation of opiate abuse among the population who had been prescribed painkillers. She had gotten Henry to agree, in lieu of handwriting prescriptions for medications, to email them directly to the local pharmacy. Prescription pads were now under lock and key to prevent anyone from attempting to forge a script.

  She retreated to her office and changed out of her street clothes, and into a pair of pale blue scrubs, comfortable shoes and the white lab coat with her name stitched below the medical office’s name and logo. She’d just placed her tote in a narrow closet when she heard a knock on the door. Natalia walked over and opened it.

  “The staff and I got together to give you this as a welcoming gift.”

  Natalia’s mouth dropped when she saw the receptionist holding a vase fil
led with a bouquet of colorful flowers. Henry had hired the tall, slender, young military widow and mother of twins, a boy and girl, after his longtime receptionist moved to Delaware to care for her elderly father.

  “Thank you so much, Angela. You really didn’t have to do this.”

  Angela Mitchell, a beautiful woman with delicate features in a sable-brown complexion and sporting shoulder-length braided hair, walked into the office and set the bouquet on the credenza. “Yes, we did, Dr. Hawkins.” She moved closer to Natalia. “It’s not every day we get to see a woman doctor around here. And especially one who is African American.”

  A warm glow flowed through Natalia. Angela had just confirmed what Natalia told Seth about being a role model for girls or women who looked like her. Satisfaction shimmered in her eyes when she said, “What you’ve said makes me doubly proud that I decided to become a doctor.”

  Natalia’s first day ended after she saw a steady stream of patients from infants to the elderly. She’d found it a refreshing change from treating gunshot wounds, stabbings and drug overdoses. Rather than being overcome with exhaustion, Natalia felt energized. The recommendations she’d suggested were now in place and had dramatically decreased the wait time for treatment.

  All medical records were computerized and when patients arrived they were given a one-page update printout to record their symptoms. The information was uploaded to computers in the exam rooms. Temperatures and blood pressure readings were taken and recorded before the patients were seen by her or Henry. All of the physician notes were entered into the computer, and if necessary, prescriptions for medication were sent electronically to the patient’s designated pharmacy.

  She pulled into the driveway to her house at the same time she saw Seth alight from an old battered pickup. Natalia had to acknowledge that he looked incredibly handsome in his uniform. “Good evening, neighbor,” she called out.

  Seth approached Natalia. “Good evening to you, too. How was your first day?”

  * * *

  His gaze took in everything about her in one, sweeping glance. There was something about his neighbor that had him thinking about her when he least expected. He wasn’t certain whether it was the sound of her dulcet voice that held him captive or her ability to make him feel completely at ease in her presence. Seth knew he’d overstayed his welcome the night before because he’d so enjoyed her company that he hadn’t wanted to go home.

  The women he saw once his divorce was finalized were temporary distractions. A few he liked enough to ask for a second date but none since Melissa, his ex-wife, intrigued him like Natalia.

  Even Natalia’s laugh reminded him of Melissa’s. Although Seth had acknowledged being away from home for extended periods of time was to blame for the breakup of his marriage, she should’ve communicated to him that she wanted out before seeking to assuage her loneliness by sleeping with one of his fellow marines.

  “It was interesting,” Natalia said. “And yours?”

  Seth angled his head. “Thankfully it was quiet. The only excitement was when I heated up your rigatoni and sausage and everyone wanted to sample it because of the incredible aroma.”

  She smiled. “What did you do?”

  “I went into my office, closed and locked the door and didn’t come out until I’d finished eating.”

  “Haven’t you heard of sharing?” Natalia teased.

  “There wasn’t enough to share. I’m going to put some veggies and Cornish hens on the grill and I’m hoping you’ll come and eat with me.” When he told Natalia that he had to step up his game when it came to cooking, he’d gone online and pulled up recipes for poultry. He found one that recommended he marinate the tiny birds in low-sodium soy sauce, ginger, honey, green onions and orange zest before either roasting or grilling them.

  Natalia paused. “Can I get a rain check?”

  Seth successfully hid his disappointment behind a forced smile. “Sure.”

  “I’ve eaten so much today that I don’t want to see another morsel. Dr. Franklin ordered a buffet lunch for the staff, and there are enough leftovers for at least another two days.”

  “Perhaps, then, another time,” he asked. Seth knew he wouldn’t have another opportunity to spend time with Natalia until the weekend. Once Roger returned, he would go back to his regular schedule.

  “I’m looking forward to it,” Natalia said, smiling. “Later.”

  He waited for Natalia to go inside her house, and then retreated to his. He disengaged the security system and tossed his house and truck keys in the sweetgrass basket he’d bought at a stand on a highway in Savannah. Sitting on a low bench, Seth took off his boots, left them on a mat and walked on sock-covered feet up the staircase to his bedroom. He removed the nine-millimeter handgun from his holster and placed it in the safe on an overhead shelf in the walk-in closet alongside a smaller off-duty automatic. Filling in for Roger meant he had to be in bed earlier than usual in order to begin work at dawn. He’d stepped into the role as acting sheriff as if he’d performed it every day. Rising to the rank of master sergeant in the Corps had prepared him to issue orders and expect them to be followed without question. Andy had come by the station house and Seth told him in no uncertain terms that he was not to return to duty without medical clearance. Andy’s resentment of Seth occupying the office in Roger’s absence was palpable but he refused to back down or submit to intimidation. Eighteen years as a Marine Corps military police officer had developed him into a formidable and fearless foe. It was something Andy immediately recognized when he turned on his heel, and then walked out.

  He changed out of his khaki uniform, leaving it and the two-way radio and gun belt on the window seat, and slipped into a pair of jogging pants, a T-shirt and running shoes. Inviting Natalia to come over to eat with him in his home would be a first for Seth since his return to Wickham Falls. It had been nearly two years since he’d made the decision to settle down in the place of his birth, and in all that time no woman other than his mother and sisters had slept under his roof. And those he slept with were far enough away from The Falls where the likelihood of them being seen together was slim to none. The town was too small and he was too well-known to carry on a liaison with a woman that wouldn’t garner talk.

  Seth went down to the kitchen and removed the hens and asparagus spears wrapped in prosciutto he’d prepped the night before to bring them to room temperature. He waited for the spring, summer and fall months to cook outdoors. Everything went on the gas grill: meat, fish, vegetables and fruit. The only time he used the kitchen was during the winter. His father’s last major project before he retired and hung up his tool belt was to remodel the gourmet kitchen. It had taken Adam Collier nearly a month to replace the floor, put up backsplashes and install countertops and cabinets. Once the refrigerator-freezer, dishwasher, stove with eye-level ovens and microwave were operable, it took more than a week for his wife to prepare a meal in her new kitchen. She’d become so accustomed to using the gas grill that she admitted she preferred cooking outdoors—especially in the warmer weather.

  Ninety minutes later, the aroma of grilled food lingered in the air, and as Seth sat on the top step of the back porch staring out at the fence separating his property from those on the next street, a feeling of peace swept over him and he wondered why he had stayed away for so long. He could have fulfilled his dream to become involved in law enforcement without joining the military. He could’ve gone to college and selected criminal justice as his major and subsequently applied to the county or state police. Chances are by this time he would’ve married a local girl, bought a house and had a family.

  Extending his legs, Seth closed his eyes, inhaled a lungful of air, held it and then let it out slowly. He did not want to think about what could’ve been but instead plan to make the best of his future. Although he lived alone he wasn’t lonely. There were guys who were in his high school graduating class with whom he’d mai
ntained contact. Most of them were married and were always attempting to hook him up with a woman looking for a “good guy.” He liked to think of himself as a good guy and more than able to find his own woman.

  Seth pushed to his feet and walked into the house when fireflies flitted about as dusk descended over the countryside. No more staying up and watching late-night TV. He had to begin his workday at six.

  * * *

  Seth’s instincts kicked in when he spied the driver of the van with Tennessee plates driving recklessly. After two weeks, he was back to his regular shift and it felt good to get out of the station house where he alternated driving around to the different neighborhoods with the foot patrols.

  Activating the lights on the cruiser, he accelerated until he came alongside the van. Instead of slowing the driver of the van sped up. Seth turned on the siren and the chase was on.

  “Clown,” he swore under his breath. There was no way a minivan could outrun a police cruiser. The pursuit continued until they neared the town limit for Wickham Falls and Seth knew he had to act quickly or he would leave his jurisdiction. He maneuvered closer to the other vehicle’s rear bumper and turned his wheel sharply to the right and made contact. The van spun around and rolled over as the driver lost control, the vehicle ending upside down in a ditch on the side of the road.

  Seth was out of his car, gun in hand as he cautiously approached the driver’s side of the vehicle. Within seconds he assessed the situation. The man’s head lay at an awkward angle against the headrest. Reaching into the open window Seth pressed his fingers to the side of his neck, feeling for a pulse. The driver was still alive.

  He switched on the radio attached to his left shoulder and reported his location and that he needed an ambulance and a tow truck. Seth took out his handcuffs and cuffed the injured man’s left hand to the wheel. It was only after he slid back the doors and inspected the van’s cargo compartment that he understood why the driver had tried to get away when he opened one of three cartons filled with boxes of fentanyl. Then he made another call, this time to the state police. He informed the person who’d answered the phone what he’d discovered and suggested they contact the local DEA office.