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“You seem to have managed to get the new girl in town alone and in bed with you and you’ve not even seen her.”
Tristan laughed. “I think that has more to do with your sweet nature than with me. Come over here. I promise to do nothing I shouldn’t. Unless S17;omorroyou want me to, that is.”
She didn’t answer that statement but turned and scooted closer to him. The bed was narrow as well as short, and when she was by his side, he had to put his feet on the floor. That, combined with having one arm in a sling, and she could tell that he was quite uncomfortable.
To make his point, he gave a great, melodramatic sigh.
“I’ve heard about how you get your way,” she said.
His answer was another sigh.
“All right!” she said and bent forward so he could put his legs up and she moved back between them. She refused to lean against him as he began to massage her neck.
“That’s great,” she said.
“Yeah, the lumbar region holds a lot of tension.”
“Spoken like a true doctor,” she said.
“It’s what I am.”
They were silent for a moment as his hand went down her spine, manipulating her sore muscles in a way that was almost a caress. She felt herself relaxing. “Do you miss seeing your patients?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I miss having a job. This morning I tried to get my father to tell me who’s got what, and how everyone is doing, but you know what he said?”
“I can guess,” Jecca said. “He told you he was a doctor before you were born.”
“Either you have a dad just like mine or we were separated at birth.”
“My father, Joseph Frances Layton, refuses to listen to anyone’s suggestions about anything. One time I said he should take down the shrine and use that space to put in some decorative hardware. Guess what he said?”
“What shrine?”
“No. He said that he was running that store before I was born and—”
“Jecca, what shrine?”
“Oh,” she said. “The hardware store was started in 1918 by my great-great-grandfather, and he made a wooden shrine to honor the men who served with him in World War I. It’s a scene of a battle where several of his friends died. It’s quite big and it’s a masterpiece. Took him twenty years to build it. Everyone who sees it is awed by it. A lot of artists come to see it and photograph it. It’s mostly art deco, but there’s a bit of baroque in the carved figures. It’s quite unique.
“Anyway, the local historical society has begged Dad to put the shrine up in the town hall, but will my dad listen? No. Two years ago six two-by-fours came close to hitting it. If they had, they would have probably destroyed the whole thing.”
Tristan stopped massaging. “You’re worried about your father, aren’t you?”
His words startled her. They were very perceptive. “Yes,” she said. “How could you tell?”
“I listen to a lot of people tell me about Stelem">
Jecca twisted around so she was leaning against the long wall. His leg was behind her, but he didn’t move it. “I don’t know what to do. My brother’s wife wants Dad to retire and turn the shop over to them.”
“And your dad hates that idea, right?”
“That store is all he has. He’s been a widower for twenty-two years and—?
?
“No girlfriends?”
“One when I was in the seventh grade, but it didn’t last. Your parents are lucky to have each other.”
