After going to the office and finding much the same thing, she was ready to file a missing person’s report on him. Thankfully, Cindy tracked her down and told her he was with Brandon.
He was always with Brandon. If he wasn’t with him, he was with a deputy. During the last week, Brandon had accompanied Nate everywhere, including going on the many shopping trips needed to replace his ruined wardrobe and personal belongings. He’d received no more threats since the night of the attack, but Bran was taking no chances. He’d protested Nate’s going back to work, but had finally given in after making Nate promise not to leave the office by himself and not to be caught anywhere alone. This morning, he’d even had one of his men follow Nate to work.
Even though no incriminating evidence was found (the blood on his clothes turned out to be pig’s blood), news of Nate’s near miss had produced one startling side effect: everyone in town knew he was gay. That meant he was fair game for every gay man in town. Even the straight women, those who had a gay friend or relative, flocked to the re-opened office to put in their bids. So far this morning, Nate had received three offers for dinner and four phone numbers. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet.
Nathan knocked on the door and entered the exam room without checking the name on the chart. He found a little old lady sitting on the exam table, her short legs dangling over the side. She was wearing a turquoise blouse and an orange skirt. Though Nate was sure he’d never seen her before, there was something familiar about her.
He crossed the room and shook her hand. “Hi. I’m Dr. Morris. So what seems to be the problem, Mrs.,” he glanced down at the chart, “Taylor?” Uh-oh. Now he knew why she looked so familiar. He’d spent every night of the last week dreaming about eyes the exact same color as those.
She smiled. It should have been a comforting sight coming from a sweet little old lady like her, but for some reason Nate felt like he was about to be questioned by the Spanish Inquisition.
“Actually, Doctor, I think I may have a touch of gout. Runs in my family, you know. Speaking of family, tell me about yours.”
Nate said, “Why don’t we get you checked out first? We can talk about my family later.”
“Of course, dear.” She was silent while Nate examined one of her stocking-clad legs. After a minute she said, “I hope it’s nothing serious. I have to be well enough to keep up with those great-grandchildren of mine. Speaking of grandchildren, I believe you know my grandson.”
Nate almost laughed but caught himself. “Really? Who’s your grandson?”
“Brandon Nash. He’s the sheriff here in Reed. A fine boy, if I do say so. He’s a homosexual, you know.”
Nate was bent over checking her reflexes when she said the last part. The matter-of-fact way she said it caused him to drop the reflex hammer on his toe.
“Are you alright, Doctor.” “Yes, ma’am. Just a little clumsy today, is all. Mrs. Taylor—”
“Please, call me Abigail.”
“Alright, Abigail. I can’t find any signs of gout. Are you in a lot of pain?”
“Some. Perhaps you should check me over one more time.”
Nate dutifully did as he was told, praying he would find something so he could write her a prescription and send her home. He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
“So, doctor, I hear you’re a homosexual, too.”
Nate stood up so fast his stethoscope slid from around his neck to the floor with a metallic thud.
“You certainly do have a case of the dropsy’s today, Dr. Morris. Are you getting enough sleep?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Such a polite boy, too. Although. . .you never did answer my question.”
Knowing he wasn’t going to get around answering, Nate picked up his stethoscope and said, “Yes, ma’am, I am a homosexual, and I do know Brandon. In fact, I’m staying with him for a few days until the
He was always with Brandon. If he wasn’t with him, he was with a deputy. During the last week, Brandon had accompanied Nate everywhere, including going on the many shopping trips needed to replace his ruined wardrobe and personal belongings. He’d received no more threats since the night of the attack, but Bran was taking no chances. He’d protested Nate’s going back to work, but had finally given in after making Nate promise not to leave the office by himself and not to be caught anywhere alone. This morning, he’d even had one of his men follow Nate to work.
Even though no incriminating evidence was found (the blood on his clothes turned out to be pig’s blood), news of Nate’s near miss had produced one startling side effect: everyone in town knew he was gay. That meant he was fair game for every gay man in town. Even the straight women, those who had a gay friend or relative, flocked to the re-opened office to put in their bids. So far this morning, Nate had received three offers for dinner and four phone numbers. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet.
Nathan knocked on the door and entered the exam room without checking the name on the chart. He found a little old lady sitting on the exam table, her short legs dangling over the side. She was wearing a turquoise blouse and an orange skirt. Though Nate was sure he’d never seen her before, there was something familiar about her.
He crossed the room and shook her hand. “Hi. I’m Dr. Morris. So what seems to be the problem, Mrs.,” he glanced down at the chart, “Taylor?” Uh-oh. Now he knew why she looked so familiar. He’d spent every night of the last week dreaming about eyes the exact same color as those.
She smiled. It should have been a comforting sight coming from a sweet little old lady like her, but for some reason Nate felt like he was about to be questioned by the Spanish Inquisition.
“Actually, Doctor, I think I may have a touch of gout. Runs in my family, you know. Speaking of family, tell me about yours.”
Nate said, “Why don’t we get you checked out first? We can talk about my family later.”
“Of course, dear.” She was silent while Nate examined one of her stocking-clad legs. After a minute she said, “I hope it’s nothing serious. I have to be well enough to keep up with those great-grandchildren of mine. Speaking of grandchildren, I believe you know my grandson.”
Nate almost laughed but caught himself. “Really? Who’s your grandson?”
“Brandon Nash. He’s the sheriff here in Reed. A fine boy, if I do say so. He’s a homosexual, you know.”
Nate was bent over checking her reflexes when she said the last part. The matter-of-fact way she said it caused him to drop the reflex hammer on his toe.
“Are you alright, Doctor.” “Yes, ma’am. Just a little clumsy today, is all. Mrs. Taylor—”
“Please, call me Abigail.”
“Alright, Abigail. I can’t find any signs of gout. Are you in a lot of pain?”
“Some. Perhaps you should check me over one more time.”
Nate dutifully did as he was told, praying he would find something so he could write her a prescription and send her home. He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
“So, doctor, I hear you’re a homosexual, too.”
Nate stood up so fast his stethoscope slid from around his neck to the floor with a metallic thud.
“You certainly do have a case of the dropsy’s today, Dr. Morris. Are you getting enough sleep?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Such a polite boy, too. Although. . .you never did answer my question.”
Knowing he wasn’t going to get around answering, Nate picked up his stethoscope and said, “Yes, ma’am, I am a homosexual, and I do know Brandon. In fact, I’m staying with him for a few days until the
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