Mary Baxter – Heart Of Texas (страница 2)

“Is that you, sonny boy?” she yelled.

Clark cringed, having forgotten that she was deaf as a post to boot. “Yes, Daisy, it’s me.”

“What’s the matter? You look plum green around the gills.”

Maybe the old busybody wasn’t as blind as he’d thought. Or maybe he looked worse than he thought. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except finding some relief from the sharp, shooting pain.

“It’s my back. I pulled it out of whack.”

“How’d you do that?”

“How doesn’t matter, Daisy,” Clark said through clenched teeth and with as much patience as he could muster, which amounted to very little. He had to get rid of this pesky woman and do something, anything to get relief.

“Have you been to see Zelma up at the nursing home?”

“No, Daisy.”

“Figures. You ain’t never been concerned about her.”

“I just got into town.”

“That’s no excuse. She asks for you all the time, you know?”

He didn’t know, and now that he did, it made him feel worse. Guilt became another source of pain, but only for a second. Hell, he wasn’t about to fall into that old gar hole and let Daisy Floyd jerk his chain as she’d done so many times in his youth.

He wouldn’t be rude to this old lady, but he didn’t intend to take any crap from her, either. He wasn’t a teenager without a home any longer.

“Daisy, thanks for checking on me, but I know you have things to do.”

“No, I don’t,” she said in a voice that sounded like scrunched up parchment.

Clark blew out a breath as another jolt of pain hit him. “Well, I do,” he said, pushing his words through jaws that felt locked.

“What’s wrong with your back, sonny?”

“I told you, I pulled it out. I have a bunch of messed up vertebraes.”

“You need a doctor.”

No joke, he wanted to lash out, but refrained. It wasn’t her fault that he’d injured himself. Why didn’t she go away and leave him alone to suffer in silence? But then, she’d never left them alone. His aunt hadn’t liked her any more than he had.

“Since old Newt retired, I know there’s not a doctor in this one-horse town.”

“You watch your mouth, boy. There ain’t nothin’ wrong with this town, you hear?”

“You’re right, Daisy. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“We do have a doctor.”

Clark’s spirits brightened considerably, only to dim just as quickly. He couldn’t believe the old bat knew what she was talking about. Surely another doctor in his right mind wouldn’t set up practice here. But at this point, he’d settle for a good vet.

“Who and where is this doctor?” Clark asked in a tight voice.

Daisy beckoned with her head. “Down yonder.”

“Where’s down yonder?” His pain and his temper were fast reaching saturation level. He didn’t know how much longer he could remain on an unsteady porch swing or put up with this aggravating old broad.

“On Windom Street. Six-nineteen to be exact.”

“What’s his name?”

“It ain’t no he.”

“You mean the doctor’s a woman?”

“Yep. And she’s a sight better than any doctor where you come from,” Daisy continued, “if you’re not too high and mighty to go to her, that is.”

Clark let that one slide. Besides, this conversation had run its course. Even if he had to crawl back to his vehicle, he was getting rid of this woman.

“Her name’s Dr. Wilson. Sara Wilson.”

Daisy spoke with such pride in her voice that for a second the name didn’t register. Then it hit him with the same vengeance as another burning prod to his back.

“Sara Ann Wilson?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“That’s her,” Daisy responded, pride deepening her voice.

Clark groaned inwardly. Was this really happening? Yes, and his misery wasn’t near over yet. He was accustomed to the best sports doctors in the business working on his chronic back pain, which had been brought on by an old football injury from his college days. He didn’t want this small-town doctor working on him, especially because he planned on having a business relationship with her.

Damn! Fate had definitely kicked him in the gut.

“She’s one of them pull-and-stretch doctors.”

“You mean chiropractor?”

“That’s what I said.”

Despite his condition, Clark almost laughed outright. Talk about a quirky twist of events, this was it. But not a good one, he told himself, trying to decide if he should crawl to his vehicle and attempt to make it back to Lufkin.

He moved slightly only to yelp out loud.

“You’re in sad shape, sonny boy.”

Clark glared at Daisy, then holding onto one arm of the swing, he staggered to his feet. However, that was as far as he could go.

“Want me to help you?” Daisy asked.

Hell, no! “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Put your arm around my shoulders.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Daisy pointed her finger in his face. “You always were one to argue with your elders. For once, just do as you’re told.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Somehow Daisy managed to help him inside the Lexus without further harm to him and without any to her. In fact, she was much stronger than she looked; he’d have to hand her that. She might be old, but she wasn’t dead—far from it.

Minutes later he brought the vehicle to a stop in the doctor’s driveway, then very gingerly made his way to the front door. But not without cost. A new onslaught of sweat drenched him, and he suspected his face was the color of paste.

He practically fell against the doorbell and stayed there. Yet it seemed an eternity before he heard any sound of life. If she wasn’t at home, he didn’t know what he’d do.

The door swung open.

“Yes?” a soft voice asked before her eyes widened and her mouth fell open.

“Sorry to disturb you,” Clark said in a low, terse voice, “but I’m—”

“In pain. That’s obvious.”

Clark clamped his jaw shut, another pain spasming his back.

“Clark Garrison, right?”

Before he could respond to the fact that she recognized him after all these years, a wave of dizziness swept over him, and he pitched forward into her arms.

Her gasp was the last thing he remembered.