LITMIR.BIZ

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memory. “What’s your prognosis, Danny?”

      The words popped out before she could stop them, and then she cursed herself. She didn’t want to know Danny’s chances.

      “The tumor’s localized and appears to have clean edges. No sign of metastasizing into surrounding tissue.”

      “That’s good.” But cancer was still scary. Another awkward pall blanketed the room. A decade ago they would’ve been teasing, laughing and talking shop throughout the meal. Andrew would have found something humorous in the tense situation. But he wasn’t here. And that was her fault.

      Helen plopped a platter of pancakes, link sausages and hash browns onto the table with enough force that it was a wonder the cobalt stoneware didn’t crack. No one made a move. In the past they would have dug in, good-naturedly fork fencing over the feast.

      “When can you take over for me, Maddie?” Danny asked as he seated himself.

      Madison gulped coffee and scalded the back of her throat, then she looked at Adam, who stood by the window, his arms folded, expression rigid. He’d obviously not relayed her answer to Danny.

      Then she looked into the eyes of the man she’d respected more than any other, a man who’d shown her the practical side of veterinary medicine. He’d been a demanding but excellent teacher, better than any of her professors. She dredged her brain for the speech she’d practiced all the way down I-85.

      “I can’t, Danny. It’s a seven-hour drive each way. You need to hire someone from the service that offers substitute veterinarians. It’s a good group. They use only board-certified doctors. They’ll find someone for you.” She dug the sheet of paper from her pocket and smoothed it on the table in front of him. “I wrote down the contact information.”

      Danny’s face turned mutinous—an expression she’d seen on Andrew’s several times. He ignored the page. “I want you, Maddie. You know how I do things. I taught you my methods.”

      A boa constrictor of guilt wound around her. “I have a practice to run. People depend on me. I’m the only vet in a thirty-mile radius of Quincey.”

      “What happened to our plan to run the office together and for you to take over when I retired?”

      He couldn’t possibly be hanging on to that, could he? But then she recalled what he’d said outside about her coming back when she was ready. He hadn’t meant for a visit.

      “Andrew and I were going to take over Drake Veterinary.” And her husband had made it clear on the night of the wreck that he had other plans for her. “That idea died with him. He was your flesh and blood. I’m not.”

      The Drakes had proved that point by staying at Andrew’s bedside until he died two days after the accident—not once stopping by to check on Madison who’d been only two floors away. She’d grieved for her child and then her husband alone. Their absence had demonstrated where she stood with the Drakes.

      “You’re still a Drake,” Danny insisted.

      “No, Dad, she’s not. Madison reverted to her maiden name.”

      Danny scowled at Adam, then refocused on Madison. “You’re never coming back?”

      “No, Danny. I’ve made a good place for myself in North Carolina.”

      He held her gaze and she had the sensation he was trying to compel her to change her mind—the way Andrew had whenever they’d disagreed. Back then she’d capitulated to her husband’s wishes more often than not to keep the peace.

      When she didn’t fold, resignation settled across Danny’s features. “Can’t blame a man for asking. Pass the pancakes.”

      “But—” Helen protested. Danny cut her off with a sharp glance. Helen knotted her fingers and bit her lip. Madison passed the platter and waited to see if her mother-in-law would finish what she’d begun to say, but Helen remained mute, her distress evident in each fidgety weight shift and in the fingers that pleated the dish towel.

      Madison looked at Adam and found him scowling at his father, then that arctic gaze shifted to her, freezing her clear to the bone. He hated her, and sitting in his kitchen, partaking of food he’d very likely paid for, suddenly seemed like an intrusion. Coming here had been a mistake.

      She rose shakily. “I have a long drive back. I’d better get started.” She took a step toward the door, eager to escape, then paused. “Danny, I’ll be rooting for you. Call the veterinary service.”

      “Take care of yourself, girl. Don’t be a stranger.”

      “Madison—”

      “Helen, leave the girl be. You heard her. She can’t do it. We’ll be fine.”

      The three Drakes exchanged looks in a silent communication that excluded Madison. “Well...goodbye and good luck.”

      She bolted from the house, ignoring the rushed jumble of voices in the kitchen behind her. She didn’t slow until she’d climbed into the cab and closed the door. With her heart still pounding she turned the key and the engine protested. “Not now. Come on.”

      She tried again. Crawling inside to ask for help was unpalatable. Bile crept up her throat. It took two more attempts before the motor caught. Eager to get down the road before she pulled over and emptied her stomach, she shoved the gear lever into Reverse.

      A bang on the window scared her heart into a stall. Helen, her face without a smidgeon of color, stood outside the door. Desperation gleamed in her eyes. Madison gulped down her rising nausea and reluctantly hit the button to lower the glass.

      “Danny made us promise not to say anything, but I can’t let you drive away when your actions could mean the difference between his life and death. You have to help, Madison. He has a sixty percent better chance of beating the cancer if he has the tumor surgically removed, then follows up with chemo. He refuses to have the procedure unless you agree to run the practice while he’s recuperating. He’s more worried about what will happen to his patients without him than he is about what I’ll do if he doesn’t—” A sob choked off her words.

      An urgent need to run crawled over Madison’s flesh. “Helen, I can’t.”

      Her former mother-in-law’s cheeks flushed dark red and a white line formed around her lips. Fury filled her eyes. “I will not let you do this to me again. I refuse to sit by and watch someone else I love slip away from me because of your actions.” Tears streamed down her cheeks and her breath came in snatched pants. Her entire body shook. “Can you live with another Drake death on your conscience? You have to come back for Danny. You owe us. You owe me, damn you, Madison Drake.”

      Monroe. Not Drake. Madison didn’t correct her.

      A chill started at Madison’s core and splintered outward like frost until even her fingers and toes felt frozen. She reached out a hand to console her mother-in-law, but Helen recoiled. “Don’t touch me.”

      Madison winced at the fresh stab of pain. They’d once been so close.

      Madison debated telling Helen the truth about Andrew. If she did, Helen would understand why Madison couldn’t revisit the past and the office they had once shared. She opened her mouth, then her conscience slammed the door on her escape route.

      Do no harm. It was more than a professional oath. It was a way of life.

      She pressed her dry lips together, leaving the damning words unsaid. She couldn’t destroy a mother’s memories of her son by telling her what a manipulative, deceitful bastard he’d been.

      Helen was right. Madison would never forgive herself if her actions caused another fatality. She owed the Drakes for the kindness they’d shown her. But mostly, she owed Danny for the practical, old-school lessons he’d taught her.

      Resignation settled heavily on her chest, crushing her lungs. Head spinning, she gulped and battled for air and an alternative. None came.

      “I’ll

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