The Mountain Midwife (12 page)

In Hunter’s book, churches came down here to save the mountain people from their ignorance and poverty. Mountain people didn’t go to other parts of the world to do the same. He was apparently wrong.

He was wrong about a lot of things. Brooksburg, though small, was a pretty village with little shops along the main street and a few decent restaurants scattered beyond the chain establishments near the highway. Churches outnumbered all but houses, seemingly one for each of the major denominations. What it didn’t have was a movie theater, playhouse, or anywhere for live music except for a band shell in a minuscule park. Anyone wanting live entertainment or a movie drove the hour-plus route up I-81 to Christiansburg, or farther to Roanoke, or south to Bristol. From the number of satellite dishes Hunter passed during his run, he suspected most people simply watched TV.

He wasn’t much for TV and hadn’t thought to bring a book
with him, so he ran up one hill and down another, his shoes squeaking on wet concrete or sucking into mud on the side of the road. Few cars passed him, and no pedestrians. If not for lights in the houses he passed every quarter mile or so, he would have felt more isolated than he already did.

Not until he returned to his motel room did he fully comprehend the reason for his sense of isolation—he was without a true family. Despite their protestations that nothing had changed, he no longer felt as though he had a right to say he belonged to the McDermotts, and Sheila Brooks was a mother who had given him up. And he mustn’t forget the sister he was too late to save—from what or whom, he didn’t know.

Thirty-two years of being sure of who and what he was had vanished in less than a day.

Mist began to swirl around his legs. Not sure how far he had run, he decided to turn back and retrace his route to the motel. This was not a place to get lost in the dark and wet. Most of the time his cell phone showed zero bars of service. The majority of the route back was downhill. It made the running easier. None of the physical exertion had done anything for altering his mood or alleviating his frustrations. If the next day wasn’t clear enough for him to attempt a ride through the mountains in search of Sheila Brooks, then he would give up and go back home.

Except weren’t these mountains home if he had been born here?

Seeing the motel and fast-food restaurant lights in the distance, he slowed for a cooldown. The lack of physical near pain brought more thoughts to his head. For years, he had connected his identity with being from Great Falls or Washington, DC, and he’d even taken pride in that. What he knew of these mountains wasn’t something to boast about, and that notion shamed him. He wanted to
leave this all behind and restore life as he had always known it. Yet wouldn’t leaving the mountains without locating the woman claiming to be his birth mother be a form of cowardice? He had never given up on anything in his life. Legs tingling with the run and chilled from the cold, misty air and his own sweat, Hunter trudged into the motel parking lot. He needed a shower, a hot meal, and something to occupy his mind.

He pushed open the door to the lobby. As usual, except during the morning breakfast, the space the size of an average home living room was empty save for a clerk behind the desk playing a handheld video game. He nodded to the kid and started up the steps to the second floor.

“Mr. McDermott?”

The sound of his name, spoken in a low but definitely mountain-accented voice, brought him up short. He spun, nearly lost his balance, and grabbed for the railing.

Ashley Tolliver stood at the bottom of the steps gazing up at him with wide, gold-flecked eyes. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but you walked right past me.”

“I’m sorry.” He took a step down, thought he probably smelled bad, and remained where he was, scarcely daring to breathe, to speculate on the reason for her presence. “I didn’t notice you.”

“Thanks. That’ll keep me humble for another day.” One corner of her mouth quivered.

Hunter’s insides quivered. It was a very fine mouth, kind of lush and full like she had gotten collagen injections, but he doubted it. Those lips looked too soft to be anything but natural—the kind of lips a man thought about kissing.

He needed another run if he was thinking of kissing a woman he scarcely knew.

He snapped his gaze to a spot over her head, where a water stain marred the whitish-gray paint on the wall. “You got my message, I take it?”

And took over a day to respond.

“I did, but I’ve been busy with patients.” She rubbed her arms as though she were cold, despite the fleece-lined hoodie she wore. “Have you had any luck?”

He crossed his own arms over his chest. He wasn’t wearing fleece or anything other than his sweat-soaked T-shirt and running shorts, and the damp chill of the air was beginning to penetrate his skin now that he was no longer moving. “I wasn’t sure about venturing into those mountains with the weather as it is.”

“Wise. I came close to getting stuck myself, and I know what I’m doing.” She glanced from his face down, then back up again, a hint of a flush warming the color in her cheeks. “I guess I caught you at a bad time, but I was passing by and saw your SUV in the lot, so thought—” She shrugged. “I can come back later.”

Suddenly his mind clicked into gear and his heart began to race with the rhythm of his recent run. “You have some information for me? You found something?”

“I did. I—” Her face sober, she avoided his eyes. “Can we talk somewhere more private?” She indicated the front desk clerk, who had set down his video game and was openly listening. “I can wait while you change. If you haven’t eaten yet, the diner on the other side of the highway is good and shouldn’t be too busy right now. That is, if you don’t have plans and, um . . .” The color in her cheeks deepened, emphasizing the shades of gold and brown in her still-braided hair and warm brown of her eyes.

She really was a pretty woman, unaffected and a little shy, but she had just come close to asking him out.

He grinned. “Give me ten minutes.” Pivoting on his heel, he took the rest of the steps in one stride and the length of the corridor in two. The gravity of her face when she said she had news for him suggested it wasn’t good, and yet he felt as though his run had pumped air into his limbs instead of fatiguing them.

W
HAT WAS SHE
thinking? She had just all but directly asked a man on a date to deliver bad news. She should have simply called him and suggested he come to her office tomorrow rather than stopping by his hotel, of all things. Twenty-first century and equality of women and all that didn’t matter in Brooks Ridge. Ladies still didn’t ask men to go to dinner with them. They didn’t stop by their motels to wait for them. She might roam around the mountains all time of day and night on her own, but many of her patients were strict in their religious beliefs and they wanted her as their midwife because of her faith and moral values. She had and always intended to maintain that reputation even after she got her medical degree and returned to practice.

Figuring any damage was already done and she may as well brazen it out, Ashley returned to her chair in the lobby to wait for Hunter McDermott. Hunter Brooks? Zachariah Brooks? She didn’t even know what to call him.

“Want some coffee?” The desk clerk rose to pour himself a cup from a pot on a side table. “I make it myself, so it’s pretty good.”

Cold, Ashley accepted. “I think winter’s on its way.” She took the Styrofoam cup the clerk handed to her and savored the steam coming off the top, took a tentative sip, and found he was right—the coffee was surprisingly good for hotel coffee. “I wouldn’t be
surprised if we end up with snow on the Ridge in the next day or two.”

“Got some ice up there already.” The clerk set down his cup and reached for the filter basket. “Better make some more. Here comes Deputy Fox. Stops in here every night for coffee when he’s on patrol.”

Of course Jason would. The motel was convenient to the highway and the main road leading up the Ridge.

He came pushing through the lobby door, bringing a blast of cold, wet air with him and rubbing his hands together. “Cold for October. Had an accident up on the Ridge because of a patch of—Ash, is that you?” He stopped to stare at her.

“Last time I checked.” Her gaze strayed to the steps.

No sign of Hunter McDermott. No hope Jason would leave before Hunter came back. Not that it was any of Jason’s business what she did, but he would still pretend it was.

“What are you doing here?” Jason asked.

“Coffee’s ready, Deputy.” The clerk pulled a box of creamer packets from beneath the counter and began to fill the caddy beside the coffeemaker. “Got some of that hazelnut stuff you like.”

“Since when?” Ashley laughed. “You turning girlie on us drinking your coffee so sweet you can’t taste the coffee?”

“Hey, I work hard. Allow me this indulgence.” He stirred the powdered chemicals into his cup, then strode closer to Ashley and pulled out a chair beside her. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for someone.”

“A patient in a zero-star motel?”

“I couldn’t tell you if I were.”

Jason sipped at his coffee, then set down the cup and leaned forward. “The baby is doing all right so far in the hospital.”

“Thanks for telling me.” Ashley hadn’t yet known one of her babies to go to the hospital and have to stay so close to birth. “No sign of the mother?”

“Not so far.” Jason shook his head. “No hospitals or clinics reporting a hemorrhaging woman, and no bodies have turned up.”

“I don’t see how she could have survived without immediate care.” The coffee turned to acid on her tongue. “She was so bad off. I’m afraid . . . I’ve never lost a patient.”

Or had her professionalism put into question, but this would ensure that it was.

“She wasn’t exactly your patient, was she?”

“No, but I delivered that baby just the same.” She began to spin her cup between her palms, watching the overhead lights sparkle in the dark liquid. “I’m so scared for her, and what will happen to the baby?”

“If no relatives come forward, she’ll go into the foster system.”

“So young? Babies need lots of love and care. I’m not sure a foster mom would give that. At least the ones I’ve known are too overworked—” The thud of footfalls on the steps stopped her from getting wound up about the potential neglect of a baby she had caught under such awful circumstances.

She glanced up to see Hunter turning the corner into the lobby. He stopped short at the sight of her with Jason, one dark brow raised in query, the rest of him looking fine in black jeans and a sweater beneath a leather jacket.

Ashley’s mouth went dry. She was sitting next to possibly the best-looking man in three counties, but Jason’s looks didn’t move the feminine side of her as did this city engineer with the too-modulated voice and a story that didn’t add up now that she had done her homework.

“Sorry I took so long, Miss Tolliver.” Hunter paced forward, bringing the aroma of an expensive aftershave, his gaze flicking between her and Jase.

Ashley stood. “Mr. McDermott, this is Deputy Jason Fox, an old friend of my family.”

“And probably our next sheriff,” the desk clerk tossed into the awkwardness.

Jason stood, his six feet four inches a slight height advantage over Hunter’s. He held out his hand. “McDermott, have we met?”

“He’s that dude who saved the little girl’s life,” the desk clerk said.

The men shook hands, eyeing one another like two dogs on chains not quite able to reach each other, not sure if they would fight if they could.

“Mr. McDermott and I haven’t eaten dinner yet.” Ashley spoke a little too quickly. “We’re heading over to the diner.”

“Not your usual kind of patient.” Jase laughed.

“She’s been doing some research for me.” Hunter was so poised, so coolly polite. But then, he had nothing to prove as Jase probably thought he did.

Ashley tossed her coffee cup into the trash and headed for the door. “I’ll meet you there, Mr. McDermott.” She all but ran to her Tahoe, head down against an onslaught of raindrops.

Research for him indeed. He was expecting information from her, and she had it for him, but, oh, neither of them could have anticipated this bit of news.

She clicked the lock open and slid into her vehicle. The powerful engine roared to life. Lights on, wipers on, and she gunned the motor, whipping out of her parking space and onto the exit drive. From the corner of her eye, she saw Hunter heading for his Mercedes
and Jase his patrol car. Good grief. Jase wasn’t going to try to join them, was he?

No, he headed in the opposite direction. A second after he hit the highway, his light flashed on. Ashley sighed in relief, then immediately felt guilty. Jase was probably on his way to an accident or domestic violence call, the two most common reasons for him to be speeding up the Ridge road. She sent up a prayer for the parties involved in whatever the situation, then pulled across the highway and into the diner parking lot.

Although the dinner hour lay upon them, the weather was keeping customers away. Only two other tables held customers, and Mary Kate looked weary and sad as she trudged across the diner to deposit full plates before one set of customers. They were teens, the least likely to tip well.

But she smiled, her face lighting up when Ashley entered, and she snatched up a menu with more energy. “I can’t believe you’re out on a night like this, Miss Ashley.”

“I was looking in on a patient nearby and decided some of Lucy’s pot roast sounded better than what I could microwave in a hurry.” She picked up a second menu. “Someone is meeting me here.”

“I hope it’s a man.” Mary Kate nudged Ashley with an elbow. “It’s about time you found yourself one and had your own babies.”

“I will when I have time.” Ashley inspected Mary Kate’s face for signs of the puffiness she had seen in her exam room.

The younger woman looked better, despite her obvious fatigue.

“How’s your cough?”

“Nearly gone. Lucy Belle gave me some cough syrup she makes with honey and lemons and it works. I said it was just a cold.”