Love Lies Bleeding (13 page)

“Let’s see.” Anne crossed the room and, kneeling, removed the bandage around Sam’s ankle. “Hmm,” she said, gently pressing the muscle. “The swelling’s gone. Does it hurt?”

“No,” Sam answered truthfully.

“Good.” Anne rose to her feet and looked down at her with a twinkle in her eye. “I know this is going to break your heart, but I think we’ll pass on the walk today. We’ll concentrate on strengthening exercises here at the cabin.”

“Inside?” Sam couldn’t keep the hopeful note out of her voice.

Anne crossed her arms over her chest and studied her for a moment. “Why don’t you like going outside?”

“I just don’t,” Sam mumbled.

Anne wasn’t going to give up. “And the reason is?”

Sam tugged on her bottom lip, and her gaze traveled to the window and the closed blinds. “It’s hard to explain—” She halted. “It . . . I . . . I feel exposed.”

“Exposed?”

“Yeah, as if someone is watching me.” Returning her attention to Anne, she held up her hand when Anne started to speak. “Okay, I know no one is really watching me, but I can’t seem to shake the feeling.”

“Have you talked to your therapist about it?”

“Of course,” Sam replied, her lips in a grim line. “He said those feelings would lessen in time, then he gave me another prescription.”

“But they’re not?”

“No, and to be honest, it’s worse up here than it was in the Cities.”

Anne frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. I would think those feelings would be more severe in a crowded city than in the open spaces here.”

“Look, I didn’t say it made sense.” Sam swung her legs off the bed and made a move to stand, but the dizziness hit her again and she plopped back onto the bed.

Anne was at her side in an instant. “What’s wrong? Is it your ankle?”

“No, my ankle’s fine. The swelling’s gone and I can put weight on it,” Sam answered, passing a hand over her eyes. “It’s those damn pills Jackson insists I take at bedtime. They make me woozier than the last prescription.”

“Dr. Van Horn prescribed them, not your psychiatrist?”

Sam waved her away and slowly rose to her feet. “I don’t know whose name was on the scrip—I never looked—but Jackson thought they’d help.”

Anne picked up the bottle of pills and studied them. Dr. Van Horn’s name was on the label. Without a word, she placed it back on the nightstand. “By the way, Jackson called last night after you were asleep.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “You didn’t tell him about my fall, did you?”

“I didn’t have to,” Anne said with a grimace. “Your father had already talked to him.”

“Great.” Sam took a few halting steps away from the bed. “I suppose he’s rushing up here?”

“No,” Anne said, following close behind. “I convinced him it was minor, but he is calling back this morning.”

Sam stopped her progress across the room and turned. “When he does call, please don’t say anything about the woman.”

“If someone is prowling around the cabin, don’t you think he should know?”

“No,” Sam replied, her words short. “He won’t believe me, so what’s the point?” She studied Anne carefully. “Do
you
think I saw someone?”

Anne’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I believe that you saw something.” She hesitated. “Whether or not someone was really down there . . .” Her voice trailed away.

“I might have been dreaming?”

“I don’t know.” She laid a hand on Sam’s arm. “But word travels fast around here. If anyone else has spotted a woman wandering around the lake at night, someone is sure to mention it.”

Well, at least Anne wasn’t dismissing her out of hand like her father and Jackson would’ve done. She supposed she should be grateful for that much, but maybe if there were more late-night visits, it would be best to keep her mouth shut.

“Do you need any help getting dressed?” Anne asked.

Sam shook her head.

“Okay. I’ll set the table and we’ll have breakfast.”

A few minutes later, Sam joined Anne in the kitchen. She’d pulled out the chair when a knock at the door startled her. Jerking, she made a move away from the table, heading back to the safety of her bedroom, but a look from Anne stopped her. With a sigh of resignation, she sat down.

Anne swiftly walked to the door, opening it to reveal Greg Clemons and the black dog Sam had defended, standing on her porch.

She stifled a groan.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Greg said, stepping into the kitchen, “but Roxy wanted to see how you were doing.”

Sam’s attention turned to the dog sitting at Greg’s side. Once again, their eyes met and the dog wiggled in response.

“I think she remembers me,” Sam said in a surprised voice.

Greg bent and scratched the dog’s ears. “Sure she does. Animals always remember when someone does them a kindness.” He smiled down at the dog. “Don’t you, Roxy?”

Roxy’s eyes left Sam’s and she stared up at Greg, cocking her head.

Sam gave a chuckle. “She knows you’re talking about her.”

“She’s a smart girl,” he answered, giving Roxy’s ears another scratch. His attention turned toward Sam. “Would you like to officially meet her?”

Sam felt a moment of panic. She’d never been around animals much. When she was a child, her parents had never wanted a dog interfering with their lifestyle, and as an adult, she’d always been too busy for pets.

“I guess,” she replied hesitantly.

He knelt beside Roxy. “Okay. I’m going to remove her leash, so just let her come to you when she’s ready. And don’t stare at her—dogs sometimes see that as aggression. Pretend she’s not even here.”

Sam turned her head away from Roxy and focused on the wall. A moment later, she felt a cold nose nudge her hand resting on her thigh.

“May I look now?” she asked.

“You bet,” Greg said with a laugh. “She wants you to pet her. That’s a good sign.”

She lowered her gaze to the pair of brown eyes looking up at her expectantly. With a smile, she stroked the slick black head. “You’re a pretty girl, aren’t you,” she said softly as a long pink tongue flicked out to lick her wrist.

With a pleased look, Greg pulled out a chair and joined them. “I’m glad she’s making friends with you. She’s been afraid of strangers and we’re trying to help her get over it.”

Placing a cup of coffee next to Greg, Anne watched Sam interact with the dog. “She looks like a border collie.”

Greg nodded. “Plus some German shepherd and who knows what else thrown into the mix.”

“What’s her story?” Anne asked.

Greg frowned before answering. “We found her chained in the yard of a vacant house. No food, no water. The owners moved away and left her behind.”

Sam gave a small gasp. “That’s terrible.”

He picked up his coffee and took a long sip. Setting it down, he glanced at the dog. “You’re right. They could’ve at least found a home for her or turned her in to the shelter instead of abandoning her.” He shook his head slowly. “But some people treat animals like they’re disposable.”

Sam leaned down and laid a cheek on Roxy’s head. “You poor thing,” she murmured, missing the speculative look on Greg’s face.

Suddenly the dog jerked away from Sam, and with two loud yips ran to Greg.

Startled, Sam drew back. “Did I frighten her?”

Greg tossed a glance over his shoulder at the door. “Nope, she hears someone coming up to the porch.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when a knock at the door set Roxy barking furiously from her spot by his leg.

“Quiet,” he said in a firm voice as he laid one hand on her head and fastened the leash with the other. Immediately, Roxy plopped at his feet, panting.

Anne, her hand on the door, looked back at Greg. “Is it okay if I open it?”

He nodded.

“My goodness,” Fritz Thorpe said, standing in the doorway. “What’s all the racket?” He spotted Greg and Roxy. “Ah, Greg and one of his strays.”

“Hi, Fritz,” Anne said, giving Sam a cautious glance while she swung the door wider. “Greg brought Roxy over to meet Sam.”

“How nice,” Fritz said, stepping inside. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

Greg tightened his grasp on the dog’s leash as he rose to his feet. “I’d better be going,” he said, giving the leash a light tug. “Too many people make her nervous.”

Fritz stepped out of their way as they headed for the door. “I didn’t mean to run you off,” he said, his eyes never leaving the dog. “But wait a moment—have you given any thought to joining us for the Fourth of July?”

Greg paused in the doorway. “The quartet?”

“Yes, we’d love to have you join us.”

Greg’s eyes narrowed. “Are you playing any of that longhair stuff?”

Fritz chuckled. “No, simply a few rousing marches.”

Greg gave the leash another tug and moved out the door. “I’ll check my schedule,” he called over his shoulder.

Sam reluctantly watched Roxy go. It had been calming to sit and stroke the dog’s head. And in a way, she suddenly realized, she’d felt safe having Roxy at her side. Now that feeling was gone, and she looked at Fritz nervously.

Seeing the change in Sam’s demeanor, Fritz quickly turned to Anne. “I really must go, but I wanted to drop by and beg you to let Caleb join us.”

Anne’s mouth tightened, but before she could speak, Fritz rushed on. “The boy really does want to play, but he’s a good kid and he won’t do it without your permission. If I promise that the rehearsals won’t interfere with his schedule, would you reconsider?”

She eyed him skeptically. “Do you also promise not to fill his head with a lot of big dreams that won’t come true?”

“Yes.” Fritz crossed his heart. “I won’t give an ounce of advice as to what his future plans should be.”

“Okay,” she said with a sigh. “He can play
this
time.”

Fritz grasped both of her hands. “Thank you.” He looked over his shoulder at Sam. “Nice to see you again, Samantha,” he said, releasing Anne’s hands and turning toward the door.

“Wait,” Sam suddenly called out. By his own admission, Fritz kept his eyes and ears open to all the latest around the lake. Maybe he had heard about the mystery woman.

He stopped, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Yes?”

Sam swallowed hard. “Um—well—I was wondering—ah—last night, I—” She hesitated and looked to Anne for help.

With a shake of her head, Anne jumped in. “You know everything that’s going on around here,” she began reluctantly.

He held up a hand stopping her. “Please,” he said humbly, “not everything.”

“Have you heard anyone mention a woman, dressed in a lavender nightgown, wandering around the lake at night?”

His eyes widened in shock before he recovered himself. “In a lavender nightgown you say?”

“Yes, we spotted a woman down on the dock.”

Sam felt a stab of gratitude that Anne hadn’t told Fritz that she’d been the only one to see the woman.

He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I can’t say as I have, but if I do, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks.” Anne put out a hand, stopping him. “And I’d also appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention this to Esther.”

Fritz gave a dry laugh. “You don’t want everyone on the lake to be discussing it, eh?”

Anne nodded.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” he said, walking out the door. “Samantha, nice to see you again.”

After Fritz had left, Anne finished making breakfast. In a few minutes, she placed toast and now-cold scrambled eggs in front of Sam. Sam looked at her plate then up at Anne. “Thanks for not telling Fritz that I was the only one who’d seen the mystery woman.”

“Ah, that’s okay. Fritz doesn’t need to know everything.” Anne turned back toward the counter. “He—”

Another rap at the door interrupted her. “What now?” she said, striding over to the door.

Sam peered around Anne as she opened the door and saw Fritz standing on the porch again.

“Did you forget something?” Anne asked.

Not coming in, Fritz looked at them both. “Neither one of you smoke, do you?”

Sam felt a trickle of dread mingled with relief.

“No,” Anne replied.

“I found these down by the dock,” he said, stepping inside and holding out a clenched hand. Slowly he uncurled his fingers, revealing two cigarette butts. “You may not smoke, but your mystery woman does.”

Sam’s head whipped toward Anne and their eyes met. Anne opened her mouth, but before she could speak, the ringing of her cell phone interrupted her. Flipping it open, she frowned. “Caleb. Just a minute,” she said, and held up one finger as she stepped out the door.

From her place at the table, Sam heard Anne’s muffled voice drift through the screen door. Nervously, she pushed her plate away while her eyes darted toward Fritz. What should she do now? Escape to the bedroom? She shifted uneasily in her chair.

Fritz gave her a friendly smile and sat down across from her. “I don’t mean to pry,” he said quietly, placing the cigarette butts in the center of the table, “but I’d like to help if I may. I take it this woman’s been here before?”

When Sam didn’t reply, he glanced over his shoulder at Anne, still talking on the porch. “Regardless of what Anne might think, I
can
keep secrets.”

Sam dropped her chin and stared at her cold breakfast. “I think so,” she whispered. “I saw her two nights ago.”

Fritz leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “I see. Being new to the area, I don’t suppose you recognized her?”

Sam shook her head.

Fritz was silent as his gaze roamed the kitchen. “It’s not changed much,” he murmured. “Same cabinets, new flooring, and furniture, but it looks remarkably the same.”

Sam was perplexed. “This isn’t the first time you’ve been inside the cabin?”

“No.” His face took on a hard look. “Many, many years ago.” He turned to Sam, his expression softening. “May I ask how you came to choose Elk Horn Lake for your vacation?”

“I didn’t,” she replied with a slight shake of her head. “My fiancé rented this cabin. He spent the summer here at the lake as a teenager and thought it would be a peaceful place for me to work on my physical therapy.”

“Hmm, I see.” Fritz uncrossed his legs and sat forward. “A teenager, and that would’ve been . . . ?”

“Well . . .” She did some swift arithmetic in her head. “Jackson just turned forty and I believe he said he was fifteen that summer, so it must’ve been about twenty-five years ago.” Sam cocked her head and studied him. “Why?”