The Myth of Reality

Chapter Two

'Jack be nimble, Jack be quick....'

The shadow slipped into the hospital room in silence, carefully closing the door behind him as he watched for movement from the sleeping patient. She lay still. The doctor had prescribed a heavy medication to help with the recovery of her burns, drowsiness the main side effect. The shadow pulled a black pack from behind him and swiftly tucked away her belongings before strapping it back into place. He undid the I.V. unit and gently slipped his arms under the sleeping patient’s body, blankets included. He took a steadying breath and lifted her. She stirred. He held his breath and kept still, but she simply turned her body more toward him and rested her head against him with a sigh as her hands clutched at one of the straps of his pack.

The shadow gazed down at her a moment before turning for the door to pull it open with the hand positioned under her knees. He slipped into the hall and hurried to the exit, his soft-soled shoes making no sound. Once out in the night air, he made his way to a black Cherokee, opened the door to the back seat, and gently laid her down. She moaned slightly as her face twisted in a frown. He stared down at her until her breathing became deep and steady once more. Then he pushed the door until there was a soft click and made his way to the driver’s side to climb in and start the engine. Adjusting the rearview mirror to keep his eye on his sleeping guest, he slowly pulled out of the Willamette Falls Hospital parking lot and eased his way onto Division Street in Oregon City.

The man let out a quiet breath, glancing toward the rearview mirror to watch her. Doctor Elyzabeth Alexandre Buchanaan; the most distinguished literature specialist to be had. He clenched his jaw before changing his eyes back to the road. He carefully pulled a folder from the pack to open it to the first page. Dark hazel eyes stared up at him from the photograph she’d had taken for her latest book. A serious expression darkened her hazel eyes and her caramel hair was swept up in a sophisticated twist. To set it all off, her chin was set delicately upon her hand while her large eyes stared back at him. He closed the folder with smack and stuffed it back in the pack.

There was a groan from behind him, and the man clenched his jaw.

"Oh my head," came a hoarse voice from the back seat.

The man fumbled beside him for his sport bottle full of water and handed it back to her along with a sealed bottle of painkillers. She took them hesitantly, sending him a wary look as she swallowed two capsules.

"Have I been kidnapped?" she asked him slowly. "If I have, I can save you a lot of time and hassle by telling you my family is not wealthy, my employers can’t afford it, and I have nothing of value to offer as collateral."

The man sent her a calculating look before reaching down in front of the passenger seat to pull the dark leather briefcase up onto the seat. "Then why is this locked?"

She casually glanced at the case and then settled back in her seat. "I’ve made it a habit. Ever since the day one of my students decided it would be fun to play a practical joke on the new young teacher."

The man raised an eyebrow. "My curiosity wants you to open it anyway."

"‘Curiosity killed the cat.’"

"I’m no cat."

She crossed her arms and their eyes locked in the rearview mirror. "I’m not going to open it."

He pulled off the road with a harsh motion, making her steady herself with a grip on the driver’s seat and the passenger seat, and jerked up on the parking brake. He turned to face her with his most threatening attitude. "Listen, baby, if you don’t open this case I’m going to get real mad. You won’t like--"

"I know," she interrupted with a spark in her hazel eyes. "I won’t like you when you’re angry. As chance would have it, I don’t like you now. Why stop a good thing?"

The man opened his mouth for a reply, but he chuckled instead as he gave a shake of his head.

"Well I’m glad somebody is amused," she told him coldly.

The man dug his wallet from the lower pocket of his dark slacks. He handed it to her with a continual, albeit reluctant smile. "Hello, Dr. Buchanaan. We spoke on the phone."

She read the ID and handed it back to him. "You expect me to believe that, Mr. Ryan Kelsey, if that is your name."

"And why wouldn’t you?" he asked as he examined her expression. "Just curious."

Dr. Buchanaan looked away and crossed her arms. "I have my reasons."

Ryan tapped his wallet against his left hand as he gauged her frown and stiff posture. "Is it the manuscript?"

Her eyes met his with an arched eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Ryan slipped his wallet back into his pocket. "You’re a very convincing liar, doctor, but I know it’s here. One of your colleagues told me where I could find it." He undid the combination and pulled out a manila envelope. "See? Right where he said you’d put it."

Her eyes darkened as she pressed her lips together. "I see I need a better briefcase."

Ryan set the envelope back in the case. "If you insist on acting innocent, go right ahead. In the meantime, we’re on our way to the Portland Airport to take you and the manuscript to my clients. They don’t seem to want to believe it’s authentic." He sent her a questioning look. "What do you think?"

Her expression was annoyance. "I think it would be nice if I could get dressed somewhere along the way."

He handed her the other black backpack and turned to restart the Cherokee, giving a shake of his head as he pulled back onto the road.

Beth hid under the covers and pulled her sweats out of the pack. She slipped them on under her hospital gown and then carefully pulled on her T-shirt. She put the covers aside with a sigh, bundling up her hospital gown inside them. Her thoughts were in a jumble. There was no way for her to know if he was telling the truth or not. She felt his eyes on her and changed her gaze to stare out the window. How was she going to find out if he was telling the truth? And if he was, would she tell him she’d made Michael get a courier to take the manuscript to her university?

Beth fiddled with the laces of her shoes. When she’d asked for excitement, she’d never guessed it would actually happen. Was she out of her element? Was it more than she could handle? And why did Dr. Kauffman tell this man I would have the manuscript? What had made her former professor believe she could trust this offensive brute?

She noticed him stealing more glances in the rearview mirror. "What is it?"

"It seems we’ve picked up some company," he said calmly enough.

Beth resisted the urge to look over her shoulder and searched in the pack for her purse. She dug her mirror out and positioned it so she could see behind them. A black sedan followed.

"Aren’t they friends of yours?"

He checked each one of his side mirrors and reached back to tap her knee. "Can you climb up here?"

She gave a startled jump and tucked the mirror back into her purse before carefully making her way between the bucket seats. "Why?" she asked as she buckled her shoulder strap.

"Just in case things get a little sticky I wanted you buckled in securely. I don’t know who that is." He paused and sent her a look hidden behind his dark glasses.

"What now?" she asked in a wary voice.

"I need you to trust me, doctor. Any other time I wouldn’t need to ask because it wouldn’t be that important. This is different."

Beth looked out the tinted window. "As I told you on the phone, I’m neither in the habit of meeting strangers," she told him in a hard voice, "especially when that stranger kidnaps an innocent from the hospital."

Mr. Kelsey released a deep breath. "Doctor, I don’t have time to go into this. All I’m asking for is your trust. It’s as simple as that." The black sedan passed them, and he clenched his jaw. "We might not be so lucky next time, doctor, and I don’t have a lot of time to waste on cultivating your faith in me. I’ve got a job to do and, right now, that’s all that matters."

Beth’s temper flashed. "Thank you so much for your generous showing of compassion."

He shot her a hard look. "Don’t worry about your safety, doctor, because that’s part of my contract. Just make sure you don’t hesitate when I tell you to do something. It may cost you more than you’re willing to give up."

Beth faced him and spoke with a calm she didn’t feel. "Mr. Kelsey, you’ve already taken away my freedom and any feelings of safety I may have had. What else do I have to lose?"

He pulled a 9 mm out of a holster under his arm and cocked it, aiming it directly between her eyes. "Your life."

She arched her eyebrows and pulled back a bit. "Is that a threat?"

"No, doctor, it’s a warning. One that I hope you’ll listen to."

"Then put it away."

He held her gaze, looking deeper into them than she thought a person could, and then uncocked the gun and slid it back in the holster. "I don’t carry that for looks, doctor," he grumbled once he’d changed his eyes to the road.

"My name is Beth," she said in a tight voice as she looked away.

"Sorry. My profession very seldom lets me get to know my prisoners," he sneered.

She looked over at him sharply. "Have you been at this job long, Mr. Kelsey? Your bedside manner leaves much to be desired."

"And your tolerance and understanding is sadly lacking for a college professor. I’d say we both have room for improvement." She crossed her arms and he sighed in exasperation. "Look, doctor, I’m telling you that I’m not a pervert, okay? You’re obviously used to being in control and don’t like loose ends or blind alleys. Fine. Just know that this is a very different classroom. If you don’t get a perfect score on these tests, you seldom live to the next one."

Beth raised her chin and turned her head to stare out the window. "I understand that, Mr. Kelsey. It just annoys me that you and whatever company/agency/facility you work for have taken it upon yourself to whisk me from my regular walk of life and into apparent danger. I don’t appreciate it, to say the least."

He turned his eyes to her briefly and gave a snort. "That’s an understatement, doctor, but I didn’t have a choice. You’re the best mind when it comes to literature."

Beth stared at him in shock, ignoring the blatant irritation that hardened his naturally rugged features. "Am I?"

"Don’t sound so shocked," he told her with a look of surprise. "Surely you’re aware of your own qualifications?"

"Of my qualifications, yes, but in whose opinion am I the ‘best mind’? Yours? Your client’s?"

Mr. Kelsey sent her another shocked glance. "Anyone who’s anyone has heard or read of Dr. E.A. Buchanaan, doctor. If someone wants a fresh approach to literature, they look for your opinion."

Beth looked away with a flash of flustered embarrassment as she organizing her thoughts and labeled her questions. Only a few people had ever hinted that she had an above average mind when it came to literature, and those few had been avid followers. Strictly a biased opinion. She hadn’t even taken it seriously when her own professor, Dr. Kauffman, had made similar such statements. But to have a stranger say it... Beth pressed her lips together. It doesn’t matter. And it certainly doesn’t change the fact that an armed man, who has an irritating tendency to make sense, has taken me against my will.

She felt another one of his sharp eyed glances and adjusted her crossed arms.

"You really are shocked, aren’t you?"

"I’m not," she defended firmly. She didn’t move her eyes from the passing scenery of the interstate 205 leading away from Clackamas and heading to Portland. "I was simply taken off guard. You seem to know so much about me and I don’t even know your name."

"I’ve told you my name, doctor. What can I do to make you believe me?"

"Do stop calling me doctor," she insisted with an irritated flash of hazel in his direction.

A long glance examined her posture and her profile. "Why? You have a doctorate in Literature and you’re working on your second in Archaeology. What am I supposed to call you? ‘Prof’?"

She sent him a dark look. "I feel old enough as it is. I already asked you to use my name. Call me Beth."

"Fine." He passed her another hidden look.

"What is it now?"

"You didn’t answer my question."

Beth stared out the side window. "What question?"

"What can I do to make you believe what I’m saying is true? My name is Ryan Kelsey. I’m a private investigator, of sorts, hired to escort you and the manuscript to New York City. Once there, you’re to authenticate it. Then I take you home."

The only problem was she didn’t have a clue what to demand. She’d thought of making him tell her what they’d discussed on the phone before all the excitement had begun, but he’d already hinted at the conversation when she’d first woken up. Besides, there was such a thing as tapping phones and she’d heard somewhere that cellular phones were the easiest. But what of the fact that he claimed to know Dr. Kauffman? And why was she so suspicious in the first place? Was it because of the fire that had nearly taken the life of her brother? Or was it because the man beside her hadn’t confided in her before taking her as she slept?

"If only you had spoken to me before all this happened," she told him. Irritation made her voice sharp.

"I didn’t have a chance."

And she could tell by his tone that he was just as irritated.

"I knew I was being watched. I had to act quickly."

"Well now he’s after me too," she snapped. "If you had thought more of my safety and less of that blasted manuscript, we wouldn’t be in this predicament!"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" he asked through clenched teeth.

She crossed her arms and took in a calming breath. It didn’t work. "If you had simply kept the manuscript and contacted me by some other means than my unsecured cell phone, all this could have been easier. Surely you know how to use the Internet?"

The Cherokee sped forward a touch and his hands tightened on the wheel. "Perhaps you would like my job?"

"Don’t be ridiculous," she scolded. "I’m sorry for snapping at you like this, but your actions make me suspicious that perhaps I’m being used as bait."

He looked over at her sharply and spoke through clenched teeth. "I told you that part of my job was keeping you safe. Otherwise, I won’t get paid."

She shot him a dark glare. "So now I’m a paycheck as well?" She scoffed and turned her glare to the window. "And you expect me to trust you so easily?"

She snorted and the tense silence that filled the Cherokee made her even angrier. It was laughable how obvious the plot was. Even a child could see she was being used to draw someone out. And the thought of being used as bait made her blood boil. And a guarantee for his paycheck besides? I have a doctorate, she raged silently. Surely, he could have found a better use for me than that!

Beth adjusted her crossed her arms. "Of all the summer vacations in my life," she mumbled, "this must be the most insulting."

She felt his glance, but ignored it. He is, by far, the rudest man I’ve met. And it was all so exasperating. One part of her brain told her to trust him. The other told her to keep their partnership the way it was. Strained. She pressed her lips together. I’m always so much calmer at school. And the fact he’d seen her at her worst didn’t make anything easier. She’d never met a man like him before; rugged, firm, hot-tempered. The list could go on, she imagined. The men she’d fraternized with at George Fox were... intellectuals? Those... jocks with cars and women for brains and beer commercials for poetry? She scoffed.

"Doctor, I’m sorry for that wisecrack about not getting paid."

Beth continued to glare out the window. "Don’t trouble yourself about it. I’ve survived rougher men than you at George Fox." It wasn’t a complete lie.

"George Fox is a private University, doctor. I doubt they’ve lowered their standard of applicants to accept anyone."

Beth looked over at him with an arched eyebrow. "Did you just knock yourself down a notch?"

The sun beamed down on his portion of windshield and he adjusted his visor accordingly. "Did I?" He sent her a glance from the corner of his eye.

Hmm. And then she changed her gaze back to the window, easing her crossed arms to simply rest in her lap.

"Doctor--"

"Will you please call me Beth," she interrupted as she faced him. But her request was only met with a sudden hardness of his face. "I haven’t irritated you to that extent have I?"

"It’s not that, doc-- Sorry. It’s a long story and I don’t want to waste the time."

"Very well." She turned back for the window. "I’m sorry for interrupting."

"I was going to ask if you believed it was authentic."

Beth sighed. "I only read a portion, but it appeared genuine enough." She crossed her arms again and tapped her fingers against her forearm. Oh just ask the man, Professor! She turned to face him. "How did you know Dr. Kauffman would send it to me?"

He sent her a sidelong glance and repositioned his hands on the wheel as the passed the Powell Blvd. exit. Traffic was light. "You grew up with him," he said matter-of-fact. "Through your adolescence and your young adult years you always chose to spend all your free time at George Fox studying and researching literary finds with Dr. Kauffman. He was your mentor."

Beth’s jaw dropped slightly and her crossed arms relaxed as she watched his unrevealing profile. "How do you know so much about me? And please don’t tell me you found it in the ever mysterious file."

Something in his face changed as he sent her another glance. "I’m sure you’d find it interesting, but it’s classified."

Beth reluctantly smiled, vaguely aware of a gradual decrease in tension. "I should have that known sooner or later those cliché words would enter our conversation."

"Sorry I didn’t disappoint you."

The sarcasm in his voice was clear and she felt her temper spark. "Please don’t be that way. At least I’m attempting to be civil."

He glanced toward her before returning his attention to the road. "You make it sound as if it doesn’t come naturally."

She looked away. "It doesn’t."

"With just me, or anyone?"

"I don’t know. People say I have a nasty habit of being a shrew," she said in a detached tone. "The students and faculty love inventing names for each consecutive mood. They never seem to attempt to understand them."

As she stared out at the passing scenery, she raised an eyebrow. Had she meant to let all that slip out?

"Then why have you stayed there so long?"

"I didn’t want to go home," she said simply.

She felt his shocked gaze and her eyes darkened with a confused frown. Talking about a past she couldn’t change was something she hardly did. Now she was discussing it with a man who irritated her?

"It’s all in the past and I’ve learned all I can from it. Now it’s simply history."

"History is what drives us, doctor. It’s what fuels our bitterness and hate. History reminds us of what we are and keeps us from striving too hard for what isn’t ours."

Beth heard an odd tone in his hard voice and turned her head to study his features. "I believe I need to read your file, Mr. Kelsey. It sounds as if you’ve had an interesting history yourself."

His grip on the wheel loosened a bit and he ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah," he muttered.

Beth examined him out of the corner of her eye as he drove. He caught her eye once, their gazes holding before Beth turned away. Her toe kicked her briefcase as it rest at her feet and she stared down at it. Should I tell him? She gnawed her lower lip and bent forward to retrieve the briefcase. Beth entered the combination, opened the lid, and retrieved the manila folder. Intrigue wasn’t in her nature, but the urge to have Michael mail it to dean Orbach while she put one of her own novels in her briefcase in its place had been an undeniable urge.

"Mr. Kelsey," she said in an unsure tone, "I’ve a confession to make." A wary gaze focused on her profile as she slowly opened the manila envelope and pulled out her latest fiction manuscript. "I don’t have the manuscript with me."

"What?"

Beth twitched and lifted the manuscript for him to see. ‘September Breezes’ by Elyzabeth Buchanaan was neatly typed on the front cover. "I don’t have the manuscript that you’re wanting."

Mr. Kelsey clenched his jaw and looked behind him and in his sideview mirror to the right before taking the next exit off the freeway and heading toward southbound 205. "You were going to let me present you to the client and make me look like an idiot when I presented that novel as an original—" Mr. Kelsey pressed his lips into a thin line and pressed firmly on the gas when the signal went green.

Beth sent him a brief glance and then faced forward as she tapped her fingers on the closed briefcase. "To put it simply: yes."

He ground his teeth. "Well needless to say we have to go back, miss our flight, and try to schedule another one." He sent her a dark look as he pulled a cell phone from his left mid-thigh pocket and pushed the speed dial ‘2’. He gripped the steering wheel and sped back onto the interstate. "Hello, this is Kelsey. ... Yeah, well we’ve had a change in plans. See if you can get me the next flight and call me back with the info. ... No, she doesn’t. ... I know what I said. It’s a long story. ... We’ll be there as soon as possible. ... Tell them whatever you want."

Mr. Kelsey slipped the cell phone back into his pocket and released a deep breath. After another tense moment of silence, he sent her a quick glance. "I guess you believe I deserved that, what with scaring you to death and ‘kidnapping’ you from the hospital when you were just minding your own business."

Beth kept her eyes focused out the window. Silence descended over the two and Beth pressed her lips together. I’ve probably made this his most difficult assignment. If only I hadn’t been so hardheaded and all set on doing things my way. But stubbornness had always been a trait she’d been proud of. It had kept her going when normal people would have given up. Others had called it determination, but it was pure and simple stubbornness because never once had she asked for help or guidance from any of her peers. She had wanted to get to where she wanted to be without anyone else’s help or support just to prove she could do it. Now she was paying the price. Self-assured and independent, positive that she always knew best, she had become hard in that independence.

She gave a slight shake of her head and pushed it all away. It didn’t prove anything. She was respected now, and apparently she was well-known nationally as well. Why else would she soon be on her to New York City simply to authenticate a manuscript? And on the referral of Dr. Kauffman. A slight smile lifted the corner of her lips and she lowered her head to an examination of an ink spot on her sweat pants. Thank you, Dr. Kauffman. I appreciate it.

And then her eyes suddenly focused on a car trailing behind them. It seemed to be the same sedan they’d seen earlier. The sedan passed another car and Beth tilted her head slightly as she reached out to touch Mr. Kelsey on the arm. His arm tensed.

"What?"

"Our friends are back," she said, pointing at the sideview mirror. "And they brought others."

He shot a look into the rearview mirror, but kept the Cherokee’s speed the same. "Okay, doctor, now we get to see how well you follow directions."

She grimaced. They were gaining fast. "What do you want me to do?"

There was a loud shot and Mr. Kelsey twitched as an arm immediately reached out to push her head down.

"Was that what I think it was?" she asked as she blinked over at him.

He nodded. "We’ll be fine." There was another shot and he began to change lanes and ease the Cherokee ahead at a frantic pace. "Never hurts to be safe."

Beth followed his lead and sunk even lower in the seat. "I don’t know about you, but I have a bad feeling about this. We have to get off this freeway."

"If we get off they’ll follow. City driving is a lot harder at high speeds."

"I’m not saying you have to take an off-ramp into the city." She clenched her teeth when he barely missed crashing into one of the sedans as he passed a car. Her hair stood on end. "I’m simply saying you can’t do this the entire way to the manuscript."

He nodded grimly. "You’re right. We have to get them off the road." He looked over at her. "Come here."

"What?"

"You have to drive."

"Why?"

One of the sedans sped up beside them and Mr. Kelsey jerked the wheel to make the Cherokee smash against the sedan. Sparks flew and Beth screamed as she brought hands up to cover her face.

"Drive just like that." He pulled his 9 mm out of the holster and gestured again for her to take the wheel. "You have to get me close enough so I can take out their tires."

Beth nodded as she reached out and took the wheel. Mr. Kelsey slipped out from behind the wheel with amazing quickness and helped her in behind it. She pressed down on the gas and the car leaped forward. Beth gnawed on her lower lip as she glanced in each one of her mirrors. I’m a professor! They don’t instruct us in offensive driving tactics! Mr. Kelsey rolled down his window. Beth surveyed the surrounding traffic. Come on, Beth, think! She caught sight of a car speeding up behind them and stood on the brakes. The tires squealed and there was a loud crunch. The both of them were nearly thrown out the windshield by the impact.

"Go! Go," he yelled.

She stomped on the gas and the Cherokee lunged, dragging some of the sedan with it. "There’s one," she said grimly.

"Do you see the other one?"

A glance was all it took to see it coming up fast on her side. "Left side."

Mr. Kelsey turned and cocked the gun. "Duck."

"What?"

Their eyes locked.

"Duck."

She let go of the wheel and hid her face between her knees, letting up on the gas as she plugged her ears. She heard the shots and jumped, squeezing her eyes shut tight. Tires squealed and a crash sounded behind them. He grabbed the wheel and slipped the gun back in its holster.

"Drive, doctor," he said as he gave her a nudge. "Let’s get you out of this."

She sat up slowly and took the wheel after rubbing her palms on her sweats. She swallowed, trying to force the nausea away.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yes," she said in an unsteady voice. "I only need a moment or two. I’ll be fine."

He watched her again and shook his head. "Give me the wheel. You need to lay down for a while."

She started to object, but cut off when he took the wheel in one hand and her wrist in the other.

"Doctor, don’t argue," he insisted as he gave her a steady look.

She pulled to the side of the road and got herself out of the way as she sat on the back seat with a deep breath. Shock, she told herself sternly. You’re beginning to show signs of shock. He’s right to take over! You would more than likely have passed out! Beth laid down with a sigh.

"Sleep well," she heard him whisper under his breath. "You’ll need it."

* * *

Ryan Kelsey pulled off the interstate in Oregon City, turning right at the off-ramp and pulling immediately into the Oregon City Shopping Center. He drove through the parking lot and headed toward the Firestone in the far corner. He passed the building and turned right onto the road that was just behind it. Then he turned left and headed toward Clackamette Park. It would be a nice place to park and keep out of site until he had a chance to find out from her where she’d left the manuscript.

He parked the car and drummed his fingers on the wheel, ever so occasionally glancing in the rearview mirror to Dr. Buchanaan’s sleeping form. But he had to look away when, again and again, he saw the bloody vision of his partner that had long since been burned into his brain. Hazel eyes glossy. Auburn hair wet with sweat. The knife protruding from her abdomen as he held her, helpless to save her life. She didn’t deserve to die like that. Not like that. Anything but that. Had he been able to stop it? No. Had he been able to get her to the hospital in time? No.

Ryan slammed out of the Cherokee with a dark glare as he strode away. Moments later, the sound of Dr. Buchanaan also getting out of the vehicle made him clench his jaw as he balled his hands into fists. She was exasperating and stubborn, but he had been impressed with how she’d handled the stress of being under fire while in a high-speed chase. The only other woman he’d known to handle it so well had been Beth. His partner.

"Is everything all right?" she asked in a hesitant tone.

"Just needed to stretch my legs before finding out where to go next." His voice was tight and he could practically feel the change in her attitude. "Doctor, go back to the car."

"How many times must I tell you my name is Beth?"

A part of him recoiled from the name and all the memories that were paired with it, so he remained silent as he kept his head turned away. She hesitated a moment more before turning back to the Cherokee. He didn’t understand her. One moment she wanted to rip his very head from his shoulders, and now she was going out of her way to be nice. If it was another tactic to annoy him, it was working. Too well, in fact. Tracking her down and keeping her under surveillance had used up his patience and being in the same close quarters with her was quickly eating at his last nerve.

"Just a couple more days," he mumbled. "Only a couple more."

If something didn’t change soon, though, he knew that his temper would snap and make him say something he knew he’d regret. As he turned back for the Cherokee, he caught a glimpse of her watching him and clenched his jaw. Ryan felt like a specimen under a microscope when he was with her. Not only that, he was too conscious of his own lack of schooling. Her fancy words and proper way of talking made him feel she was making fun of him. It wasn’t appreciated.

"Are you sure you’re all right?"

Ryan climbed the rest of the way up and started the vehicle. "Positive. Now where are we going?"

"George Fox University in Newberg."

"Fine. You better get some more rest. You’ve still got the drugs in your--"

"I’m not tired."

"Fine. Then stay up. I don’t care."

He felt her eyes drill into the base of his neck and the back of his head before she carefully scrambled into the seat beside him. Their arms brushed and he tensed as a spark shot down to his toes. Ryan clenched his jaw and pulled back onto McLoughlin to get onto the interstate.

"Do you mind if I ask some questions?"

"Yes," he cut in sharply. The air between them seemed to spark as her temper rose. He felt a little guilty.

"You don’t have to be so insulting," she scolded in the high-and-mighty tone she’d used before. "I was simply--"

"You were being nosy. We don’t like each other, doctor. Remember?"

She bristled and he regretted being so good at keeping her distant. It would have been interesting to get to know her better... Ryan grit his teeth and clenched the wheel. Getting to know her wasn’t an option and he knew it. Attachments caused too many problems and he had enough of those to last an eternity in hell. Dr. Buchanaan would stay on the outside where it was safest and live to see another day.

"I may not like you, Mr. Kelsey, but that’s only due to the fact you seem to want it that way. You saved my life today and I would like to show my appreciation by calling a truce. With you barking at me it’s very hard to keep my temper and show my gratitude."

Ryan felt as I he’d just been reprimanded by the teacher and clenched his jaw tighter. "Doctor, I’m not one of your students."

"Then don’t act as one," she shot back.

He remained silent.

"I’m sorry," she said after a moment’s pause. "I didn’t mean what I said about not liking you, Mr. Kelsey. Friendship was never one of my strong suits, I’m afraid."

Sympathy for her difficult life battled with his hard-headed desire to be angry. "Don’t worry about it," he said abruptly.

There seemed to be an unasked question hanging over her, but he refused to present an opportunity for her to ask, so he stayed quiet. After several uncomfortable moments of silence, she lifted her briefcase to her lap and opened it, retrieving a pair of wire-rimmed glasses from her purse. When she slipped them on, he felt her glance toward him and wondered why, but he refused to look her in the eyes. She sighed and pulled out a book, a steno pad, and a pencil before speaking again.

"Let me know if you need a break, Mr. Kelsey."

He nodded curtly and returned his focus to the road. A break? I’ve been needing a break for years, doctor. Beth couldn’t give me one before, and you certainly can’t give me one now. Go ahead and keep hiding in your books and Universities. I’ll be fine because I can’t afford to be otherwise. A slight movement beside him caught his eye and he turned his head. Dr. Buchanaan was absently tapping her pencil on her lips as she repeatedly coiled a lock of hair around her index finger. His stomach tightened and he looked away. I’ll keep her safe, he promised. But that’s all. That’s my job. It’s only my job.

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