White Wedding For A Southern Belle

“Ms. Marsh, I’m sorry but I have another appointment at eight. I’ll get started on this first thing in the morning.” He had to stop looking at her mouth. Thinking of their kiss.

She made a disgusted sound. “I don’t think you’ll have time for that tomorrow and I have scheduled meetings so I’ll be in and out.”

“I doubt there’ll be so many patients that I can’t see to it over the next few days.”

“You might be surprised. Were you told that this job would require long hours?”

“I understand those. I am an ER doctor. The issue is that I wasn’t prepared to work tonight. I understood I was to come and see the clinic. Not set it up.”

“Dr. Bradford, around here we all do what has to be done. Were you told you would have only one nurse?”

“No. I was just asked to start work here the day after tomorrow.”

“You have the date wrong. Tomorrow is opening day.”

He’d be there ready to go in the morning. She seemed to set high expectations for herself and others. Kiefer didn’t need her reporting back that he’d not given his all to this project. He had to ensure this clinic ran smoothly.

Shrugging out of his lightweight jacket, he conceded, “I can stay for a couple of hours now. We won’t get it all done tonight but maybe we can have at least one exam room operational. But first I have to make a quick phone call.”

“Sounds like a plan, Dr. Bradford.”

“Please call me Kiefer. After all, we have met before.”

She tilted her head in question. “I don’t remember that.”

“Now my feelings are hurt. It was at a St. Patrick’s Day party.”

A look of concern came over her face. She studied him for a moment. “Really?”

“You invited me to dance.”

Ashley sucked in a breath. Her eyes widened. “You grabbed me in the hall.”

“I’m sorry about that. Heat of the moment and all that.” Kiefer wasn’t going into why he’d kissed her. He also wasn’t going to let on how much he’d enjoyed doing so.

“I should have slapped your face.”

He shrugged. “Probably.”

Ashley’s hands shook as she opened the first box. She glanced at Kiefer. He had been the one. The man whose kiss had turned her inside out. She’d pushed him away and had gone down the hall back to the party on wobbly knees. No kiss had ever lingered and stayed with her like his had. Even months later she could remember every detail. But could she trust him? Someone who just grabbed a stranger and kissed them?

Kiefer looked at her. She turned away. Was he thinking of their kiss? Worse, laughing at her? She had to get past the moment and concentrate on the job at hand. What they had shared had been two adults being silly during a party.

He wasn’t who she’d expected, on more than one front. She’d thought an older, more established doctor would be assigned to the clinic. The council had only agreed to support the clinic if she could work out an affiliation with the Savannah Medical Center. Only when she’d managed to make the connection had the plan come together. The six-month time limit meant the clinic had to look good from the first day and there could be no issues, like with Marko.

Her next concern was that if the clinic did make a go of things, would Kiefer stay and run it after the six months were up? Or would he be like so many others? All her life she’d seen people wanting to help come and go in her community. Civic groups, church groups, private companies, all wanting to make a difference. The problem was that they never stayed long enough to make a real change. Slowly the strides forward would slide back to the way they had been. They came in and did their projects for the allotted time then left, never really committing to Southriver. Ashley needed people who would stay and be a part of the community. Someone who would have the same conviction about the community as she did.

When she’d been elected from the Southriver district to serve as alderman, the establishment of close affordable medical care had been one of her main platform points.

If there had been a clinic close by, Lizzy might have lived.

The clinic was the first of many improvements Ashley planned to implement. The beginning of making restitution for not having been there for Lizzy. But she had to show success with this project before she requested funds for the next.

* * *

They spent the following few hours opening boxes. Kiefer would tell her where the supplies were needed and she would put them there. He was a clean-cut guy in an all-American way. Dressed in a knit collared shirt and jeans, which seemed worn enough that they might be his favorite, and loafers. He was a striking man. As much so as he had been on St. Patrick’s Day. He oozed confidence, but she knew from experience that he would need to gain acceptance in this neighborhood. His eyes were his most arresting feature. They twinkled with merriment. She should have remembered them, but it had been his voice that had pulled at her. That timbre when he said certain words made it special.

Kiefer was a worker, she’d give him that. She had no idea what some of the items they were handling were or how they were used, but he seemed pleased to see each of them. On occasion she would catch him looking at her. It made her feel a little nervous. That kiss stood between them. Theirs was a business relationship and she was going to see that it stayed that way.

“I’ll need to make a list of other things we need when we get this all finished,” he said.

“Good luck with that. I had a hard enough time getting these donated.”

“I know someone I could ask.”

“Who’s that?” Ashley pushed another empty box out of the way.

“My mother. She’s always looking for a cause. I’ll put her on it. It may take a while for us to get what we need, but we will.”

“Your mother isn’t Maggie Bradford, is she?” She should have known. Last name Bradford. She’d been at Maggie Bradford’s party. Great. Another connection between them. Ashley knew his mother.

“That’s her.”

“She’s a smart woman. Very persuasive.”

“Yeah. That’s Mom.”

He didn’t sound that pleased. “She has a big heart.”

A shadowy look came over his face. “Sometimes to her own detriment. That’s a characteristic the two of you share.” He picked up another box and headed out the door.

What had he meant by that comment?

Sometime later he looked at the large, expensive watch on his wrist. “I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta go. I’ll finish the rest of this tomorrow.” Picking up his jacket from where he’d hung it, he pulled it on. “Walk to the door with me. I want to make sure you close up.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve lived in Southriver all my life and I’ll still be here when you’re gone. So please don’t start trying to play hero.”

“No hero here. Just put my concern down to having been there, done that, and humor me.” He stood at the door, waiting on her.

What was that all about? She stopped what she was doing and followed him down the hall. Kiefer opened the front door. “Lock up.”

“I will, but I’m going to wait here until you get into your truck. If any eyes are looking, they need to know you’re with me.”

He started toward his truck. On his way he called, “This lot needs a security light.”

“I’ll add it to the already long list.” She watched him climb into his late-model truck. It was a nice one and she was afraid it might not fare well in this neighborhood. Vandalism could be a problem. It also made him stand out as a visitor, and that could cause confidence issues with the locals.

He waited with his headlights shining on her until she turned and went inside. Oddly, she liked his concern.