A Destiny in Defiance by Heather Blanton

Author:Heather Blanton [Blanton, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rivulet Publishing
Published: 2019-11-01T04:00:00+00:00

* * *

Hope sat down at the window of the waiting room and stared out at the evening settling in. Long shadows reached across the forlorn path that led to Main Street. Time for dinner and she should head to the hotel, but she didn’t feel like eating. Or, more precisely, after the cold reception at Mary Ann’s funeral, she didn’t feel like eating alone.

Oh, she always saw someone in the hotel she could chat with but…sometimes those polite conversations left her feeling so empty. And right now, she was more empty than usual. Worse, since the attack, she was nervous about walking home alone and had prevailed upon the marshal and the deputy to escort her these last several nights. Yet somehow their company had left her more unsettled than ever.

Sighing, she faced up to the fact that she was lonely. Lonely and longing for a real friend. Perhaps something more than a friend.

The Regulator clock’s tick tick tick hammered away at the silence in the office and Hope let her gaze drift down to her hands, folded in her lap. She’d had a busy day with several patients, and she was gratified to be making inroads with at least some of the town’s residents—a reminder why she should go to the hotel for dinner. She often saw people there she’d tended. Met their families. Made a few new patients.

Unbidden, her mind drifted to Mr. Chandler. Again. He had come in today to have his stitches removed. He’d worked smiles and chuckles from her and scowls for a smirking Hannah. The girl’s teasing was merciless. Thinking about the two of them both lifted Hope’s spirits and made her sad.

A knock on her door jerked her head up. Assuming a patient was calling, she rose quickly, ignoring the slight twinge in her side. Relieved at having the maudlin thoughts chased away, she opened the door with a smile. “Good eve—”

Her heart did an unexpected flutter when she discovered Mr. Chandler standing on her threshold. Twirling his hat in his hands, he’d obviously bathed and his hair, blond as corn silk, had been trimmed recently. He wore a red cotton shirt under his sheepskin coat, and a black string tie. He’d shaved, as evidenced by tight, smooth skin and the smell of lilac water. His hair, the color of sunshine, gleamed in the office’s light. Quite the change from the dusty, dirty cowboy she’d treated.

“Mr. Chandler.”

A bashful smile tweaked his lips. “Ma’am.”

“What can I do for you? Is your hand all right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He held it up and wiggled his fingers. “Fit as a fiddle. You did a fine job taking out the stitches today. Heck, you did a good job putting them in. I’m barely gonna have a scar.”

“That’s lovely to hear. What can I do for you? No other accidents, I hope.”

The man opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He grinned sheepishly and tried again. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me.” He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders.

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