Jackie Merritt - The Coyote's Cry

“Bram Colton,” Jenna whispered, “I absolutely, positively loathe you.”

Right at that moment, it was the truth.

The chiming of the doorbell startled Jenna, who’d been so involved with Bram and his watchful dog that she hadn’t heard the arrival of another vehicle. But all afternoon the visiting Coltons had merely rapped once and walked in, some of them not even bothering to announce their arrival with that cursory knock. Thus Jenna was pretty certain that whoever had rung the doorbell was not a Colton. She glanced toward the master bedroom to see if Bram had heard the chimes, but it appeared that either he hadn’t or he was ignoring the caller.

Giving Nellie a warning look that Jenna hoped the dog would interpret to mean, “Don’t you dare move from that spot,” Jenna went to the door herself. Opening it, she could hardly believe her eyes.

“Dad!”

Carl Elliot’s face was dark red with anger. “What in hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded. “Staying in a damn Indian’s house. Don’t you have any pride?”

“I’m working! I’m taking care of Mrs. Colton.”

“You’re living with an Indian man! This is his house!”

“I am not living with anyone, not in the way you’re inferring. I explained my job assignment in the note I left for you, which you must have read or you wouldn’t have known where I was. I’m very upset over this…this intrusion, Dad.”

“And I’m so embarrassed by your behavior I can’t hold my head up or look friends in the eye! Get your things and come home with me this instant.”

“I most certainly will not!”

“Jenna, I’m warning you…”

Jenna felt Bram’s presence behind her before he said a word. He stepped so close that her whole body became tense.

“What’s going on?” he asked, using that lethally quiet tone that never failed to deliver a thrill to every erogenous area of Jenna’s body. She took a quick, nervous breath and tried to ignore his overwhelming sexual magnetism so she could concentrate on minimizing the situation.

“I don’t want my daughter staying here,” Carl Elliot said coldly, proving that he was unafraid of Black Arrow’s sheriff, or any other man, for that matter.

“Well, I’m not all that keen on your daughter staying here, either,” Bram drawled, shocking the breath out of Jenna and possibly doing the same to Carl, who suddenly looked confused. “But Dr. Hall assigned her to care for my grandmother, and until another nurse appears on this doorstep to take her place, your daughter is working for me. Take it or leave it, but don’t come here looking for trouble or you just might find it.” Bram strode away with Nellie on his heels, heading, Jenna saw, for his bedroom.

“This is not the end of this,” Carl said angrily, shaking his finger at his daughter. But to Jenna’s immense relief, he left the front porch and walked—obviously in a huff—to his car.

“Dad,” she called, having second thoughts. She ran after him.

Carl stopped as he reached his car. “Did you change your mind?”

“No, but there’s no reason for anger between us. Try to understand. I’m only doing my job.”

“Your wonderful job embarrasses me, shames me. Thank God your mother isn’t alive to see how you’ve disgraced the Elliot name.”

Jenna gasped. “How can you stand there and say something like that? Mother didn’t have a biased or prejudiced bone in her body and you know it.”

“Yeah, well, she wasn’t always right, either. I’m not going to forget this, Jenna. How long are you planning to live with that big breed?”

Jenna’s spine stiffened. “I won’t listen to that kind of talk another second. Good night.” Spinning, she walked back to the house with her head held high, went in and closed the door.

But her courage was mostly bluff. Shaking all over, she leaned back against the door and fought tears.

Bram walked in. He had changed from his uniform to jeans, a blue cotton shirt and soft leather cowboy boots, and he looked so handsome to Jenna that her heart actually ached. If there had been the slimmest chance of him liking her before this, her father’s angry appearance just now had destroyed it.

“Why did Dr. Hall assign you to this job?” Bram asked brusquely.

Jenna’s anger, normally so controlled, flared up. Right at the moment she didn’t much care for Bram Colton or her father. “Because I’m the best nurse in town,” she snapped, and ducked around Bram to go to the kitchen.

Frowning, he pondered her answer and decided to believe her. In the first place, why would she make up something like that? In the second, she had no idea of his feelings for her, so why wouldn’t she take the assignment? As for Carl Elliot, he could go take a flying leap at the moon, for all Bram cared.

“Moronic jackass,” he muttered as he headed back to Gran’s room.

In the kitchen Jenna heated up a bowl of stew for her dinner and then could hardly get a bite down her tightly constricted throat, even though it was a delicious concoction of lean beef and vegetables. When was her father going to realize that she was a grown woman? she wondered. She was thirty years old and certainly intelligent enough to make her own career decisions.

This was really the final straw, she thought, exhaling a sorrowful sigh. She would start looking for her own place, and when she left this house she would also leave her father’s. He had gone too far this time. As for Bram, he had made it clear as glass what he thought of her, the big jerk. He didn’t like her and wasn’t at all happy that she was the nurse sent by Dr. Hall. What was the word he’d used so insultingly? Oh, yes—keen. He wasn’t keen on her staying in his house.

Well, she wasn’t particularly keen on Bram Colton anymore, either.

They moved as shadows around each other, never eating together, barely speaking, and when they did, only about Gloria. Jenna felt empty, as though something crucial to life itself had vanished. At the same time she knew that reaction was utterly ridiculous. She’d never had Bram, so how could she not have him now?

On Thursday morning, after Bram left for work, Roberta Shane arrived. She was the relief nurse and would care for Mrs. Colton on Thursdays so Jenna could have a day off. Roberta was around fifty, Jenna estimated, and had been in nursing all of her adult life. Rumor had it that Roberta had been very attractive when she married Jake Shane in her early twenties, but Jake had been a lazy good-for-nothing, and after supporting the bum for over twenty years, Roberta had kicked him out. She’d come out of the divorce a bitter, unsmiling, overweight woman with grown kids who had moved away and rarely came back to Black Arrow to see her. She was an excellent nurse, as far as the mechanics of the profession went, but she didn’t even try to hide her contempt for the human race, and very few patients warmed to her.

Jenna turned over Gloria’s chart to Roberta with a worried frown. Roberta would not have been her choice of relief nurses. Gloria wasn’t responding to much of anything, and Jenna did everything with kindness and smiles. The small gains Jenna had made—whether real or in her imagination—could be wiped out by one unsympathetic person. Jenna sighed quietly; she had to rely on Dr. Hall’s judgment.

Dr. Hall had phoned yesterday, and Jenna had given him a verbal report on Gloria’s progress—or in this case, lack of progress. The doctor had told her he would be out to see Gloria and check her over sometime during the coming weekend.

At any rate, Jenna hated leaving her patient in anyone else’s care, but especially Roberta’s. But there were things Jenna needed to do, and a day off was necessary. She’d had friends bring her car to Bram’s place within a day of her own arrival, so she had transportation. But when she got in her bright red sedan today and drove away, that frown of worry over Roberta Shane being the relief nurse was still furrowing her brow.