Page 32 of A First Sight

Once outside, I hurried to where I had parked, shouldering aside people who were gawking. I settled into my car and took a moment to get my thoughts together. I would make sure she was all right, pass along the conductor’s message, and then determine what to do from there. She had a brother and sister in the city. If they weren’t already at the hospital, I would wait for them with her. Or take her to them. Whatever she needed.

I pulled out my phone and saw half a dozen missed calls from Mel and Uncle Ben. Not wanting to get involved in a long conversation, I texted them back, stating something had come up, and I wouldn’t be in the office today.

I made my way through the city traffic, nervously tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, my body humming with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. Finding a parking space took nearly as long as the drive, and by the time I got out of the car, it was all I could do to keep from jogging to the hospital entrance.

I went to the man at the desk and explained that I was here to pick up a patient brought in by ambulance. After being directed to a waiting area, I took a seat and did just that.

Nearly an hour passed, and all I did was sit and watch, but then the doors opened, and Maggie stepped into the lobby. I bolted from my seat and hurried over before I could lose sight of her. It took me speaking to get her attention.

“Miss McCrae?” I reached out but didn’t touch her.

Her head jerked up, eyes wide. “Oh, it’s you. Mr. Mac Gilleain, right?”

“Drake, please.” I smiled.

She nodded. “Drake, okay. Are you hurt? I mean, Dale didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No. I’m fine.” I stopped myself from flexing my hand. My knuckles were a little sore and scraped, but no damage was done. I was a reasonably peaceful man, but I knew how to throw a mean punch.

“Then why are you here?” The question was curious, not rude.

“For you.” I felt heat in my cheeks. “I didn’t want you to be here alone.”

“That’s sweet, but unnecessary.” Suddenly, her eyes narrowed, her gaze sharpened. “Wait a minute, I know you. I mean, I recognize you. I thought I did before, but now I remember. You’re the stranger who bought me lunch that day.”

Shit.

“Oh, uh, yes. That was me.” The flush in my face deepened. I scratched my head, shifting my gaze away from her. “I…don’t like to see women in distress.”

“I guess not.” After a moment, she added, “Thank you for what you did. The other day and today.”

I turned my attention back to her and said, “It should have never been necessary, but I’m glad I could help.”

She gave me a soft smile, her cheeks pink. “You sound like my father.”

My lips twitched to keep me from smiling. “Do I, now?”

I could have been.I was almost eighteen years older than her.

“Oh, I mean, I’m sorry…I didn’t…I mean…you’re not like my father…dammit…he’s also from Scotland.”

I chuckled. “I thought that might be the case. Maggie McCrae. There’s a Scots name if I’ve ever heard one.”

“You have less of an accent than he does,” she said.

Before she could ask how long I’d been in the US, a flurry of activity drew our attention. Three people burst in, two supporting a third in the middle, all covered with blood.

“Perhaps we should…” I gestured toward the exit.

“Oh, yes.” That lost look came back into her eyes.

“Do you need to speak to the police again?” I asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “I already did the paperwork necessary to press charges against Dale.”

I put my arm around her waist, not touching, just using it to guide her, to keep people from getting too close to her. The urge to protect her, to put myself between her and anyone who could harm her, was almost overwhelming.

As we stepped outside, a gust of cold air made her shiver, and I moved to block the wind.

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