Meet Me in the Gray

Three

Three

Two hours later, Everett collected his medical bag and waited for Grace in the shade beneath the trees by the pond. The heat of the day was finally beginning to ebb and an evening breeze rushed over the back of his neck. It had been a long day, and he was tired, yet strangely energized by the prospect of spending some time with Grace.

If she came.

The thought that she might stand him up had been gnawing at him all day. He wouldn't blame her if she didn't come. How could he? His behavior of late had him closer to being kicked out of the army than endearing himself to a woman.

He rocked back on his heels. If she wasn't here in five minutes he'd leave without her. Or maybe he'd give her ten. She was very busy after all with—"

"Sorry I'm late," Grace's sweet voice interrupted his pensive train of thought. "I took a moment to freshen up."

Everett turned and his eyes fell upon her. His breath hitched. Grace was a vision bathed in the early evening sun. She'd changed from the drab dark gown she wore about the hospital into a becoming ensemble of deep burgundy. A thick ribbon encompassed her slender waist while thick skirts flared at the hips and flattered her extremely feminine figure. Her rich dark hair, usually pulled back in a tight chignon, was lightly braided over one shoulder with a few wispy tendrils left out to frame her heart-shaped face. She was beautiful. Absolutely lovely.

The lass had freshened up for him!

The realization lifted his spirits in no small measure. "I thought you wouldn't come."

A twinkle glittered in her eyes. "I made a promise, Dr. Connors, and I never break a promise." She shrugged. "Honestly, I haven't been away from the hospital in weeks. An outing, even to check in on another sick person, sounds wonderful."

"I understand." He pointed across the way. "I have a horse and buggy waiting just over there. Shall we go?"

"Yes. I haven't stopped thinking about that poor boy all day." She fell into step beside him. "What do you think ails his mother?"

"I think she may be anemic," he replied as they crossed the yard to the buggy.

"Oh?"

"Yes. According to the boy, she gave birth a few weeks ago and has been pale and suffering from fatigue ever since." He paused beside the conveyance and extended a hand out to Grace.

With a shy smile, she slipped her slender fingers into his much larger palm. Lightning shot up his arm. A jolt of pure awareness that shocked him to the core. For a moment he stood still, staring at their joined hands. His response to her was primal. Base. Unlike anything he'd experienced with a woman before. It was unsettling, perhaps even a little frightening, and, more importantly—did she feel it too?