Free First Do No Evil: Blood Secrets, Book 1 by Carey Baldwin Page B

After what seemed like a lifetime, his hand squeezed hers. “I didn’t come here to fight with you. This discussion isn’t over, but I suppose we can table it for now. In case you come to your senses, I’ll leave Bella in the fridge.”
    She was tired of arguing too, and if he insisted on leaving a dose of Bella in her refrigerator, well, she had a patient on the waiting list. Garth need never know that she’d given his vaccine to Mrs. Porter.
    “I guess I knew you didn’t call me here for Bella. But I did hope…” He released her hand and slipped the syringe back in its baggy. “Maybe you better tell me the real reason you wanted to see me.”
    Nodding her assent, she spread her quilt-covered arms, inviting him to sit beside her again. Garth rose from his knees and shoved his hands beneath his armpits. “Too damn cold. What the hell are you doing out here anyway? Your nose is blue.”
    A gentle breeze poured over her like a soothing balm. Her muscles relaxed. Lifting a steady hand, she pointed at the moon. “Beautiful, isn’t it? The Indians call it a wolf moon, because in winter, packs of starving wolves would surround their villages, howling, stalking and generally terrifying the children…and I bet a few braves as well.”
    On cue, the wind picked up, raged through the branches of the ponderosa pines, showered them with a minty fragrance, and provided a fine imitation of a pack of howling wolves.
    “Fascinating, Sis. You’re a regular Farmer’s Almanac. But it’s too cold for me out here with the wolves. Come inside.” Garth tried to pull her to her feet, but she resisted. Giving up on the use of force, he beckoned her with his finger and offered a bribe. “I’ll make you a cup of my famous hot chocolate.”
    She wiggled her toes. Numb. On the flip side, the soles of her feet, which rested directly in front of the heater, were scorched. “With marshmallows?”
    “Depends. You got any?”
    “Probably, but they may be petrified.”
    For the first time that night, Garth’s face relaxed, and his lips curved into a smile. “I love nothing better than a marshmallow that’s been aged to splendid perfection. Let’s do it. Then after we de-ice your eyebrows, you can tell me the reason for your urgent summons.”
    While she dialed off the power on the heater, Garth pushed at the door, but as usual it jammed. Heaving his shoulder against the carved oak, he grumbled, “Damn door.”
    Kicking the neglected door shut behind them, she followed him into the living room. “I’ve been meaning to get that fixed.”
    “I can take care of that for you.” He rested his chin in his hand. “On second thought, I’ve got a better idea. How about I send someone out here to pack up your things? You’d be better off moving in with me so I can watch over you.” Garth glanced around the sparsely furnished room with obvious disapproval. “Not that there’s much to pack.”
    That last remark stung all the more because it was true. Interior design wasn’t Sky’s forte. Recalling the warmth of Danny’s home, she suddenly became acutely aware of what was missing in her own. Anatomical charts lent little charm to the cramped room, but they did add color to the gray walls, as did two china-blue slipcovered loveseats. Stacks of medical journals enjoyed full dominion over a wicker rocker she’d purchased at the Cracker Barrel, and the knob was missing from a coffee-table drawer that contained her household bills. Resolving for the umpteenth time to replace the knob, she turned her attention to her only significant possessions: Books. Lovingly shelved, though not ordered by alphabet or type. Her chin came up, and her shoulders drew back. Maybe her home lacked style and panache, but it was her own, a symbol of her hard won independence.
    After her parents died, she’d hidden herself away like a crippled bird under Garth’s protective wing. It’d taken her years to venture back out into the world, and years beyond that