McKettrick's Heart by Linda Lael Miller Page B

receptionist shouldered past her. “Keegan!” she yelled. “Jesse! Behave yourselves, or I swear to God, I’ll call Wyatt Terp and have both your asses thrown in the clink!”

CHAPTER
6
    J ESSE, HIS SHOULDERS HEAVING with exertion under his white T-shirt, slanted a grin at Keegan and sagged back against the side of his truck in the clinic parking lot. “She’ll do it, you know,” he warned, cocking a thumb toward the entrance, where Carrie Johnson, the night receptionist, loomed, glowering obstinately at the pair of them, hands propped on her wide hips.
    Keegan knew Jesse was right. Carrie was a woman of her word. Moreover, even though Terp was a family friend, blessed with a high tolerance for McKettrick shenanigans, the lawman would most likely be in a piss-poor mood after pulling a double shift to keep local Independence Day revelers on the straight and narrow.
    â€œYou’re damn right I’ll do it,” Carrie vowed, stomping over to them. “What’s the matter with you two, anyhow? We got a real sick woman in there, and you’re out here carrying on like you did back in high school!”
    Keegan reddened, painfully aware that Molly Shields had been standing in the background all along, watching him make a fool of himself. He was ashamed to the core—and still spoiling for a fight.
    Jesse played the diplomat, lifting both hands, palms out, in a conciliatory gesture. “Look,” Jesse said to Carrie, throwing the charm switch. “Keeg’s just a little stressed out, that’s all. We’re cool, I promise.”
    â€œYour promise and a quarter will buy me a phone call,” replied Carrie, who had dated Jesse while they were all seniors at Indian Rock High and therefore had good cause to doubt his word. Some of the huff went out of her, though—that was the magic of being Jesse McKettrick. When he flipped that internal switch, there was juice behind it.
    â€œYou know I was never good enough for you,” Jesse told Carrie sweetly, all big eyed and earnest.
    Just hang the halo on one of his horns, Keegan thought, fighting a rueful smile. He was still furious with Jesse for siding with the Texas McKettricks and not telling him about it, but at the same time he couldn’t help admiring the bastard for his nerve.
    â€œYou’re so full of bull-crap,” Carrie answered, fondly skeptical. “And you make me come out here again, either of you, you’ll regret it.” With that, she turned and flounced back inside, with no idea she’d just been hoodwinked by the master.
    Molly hesitated a moment, in a pool of light near the entrance to Indian Rock’s only medical facility, then squared her slight shoulders and marched toward them. Stood at a little distance, looking as though she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite work up the gumption to do it.
    Keegan was desperate to ignore her. “Who called you?” he asked Jesse.
    â€œDevon,” Jesse answered. “After you dropped her off at Rance’s tonight and laid rubber down the driveway in a big hurry to get here, she got scared. Figured you might get killed on the way to town.”
    Keegan remained aware of Molly, though he didn’t let on, wishing she’d take the hint and make herself scarce, hoping she’d stay right where she was. “You can go home anytime now,” he told Jesse.
    â€œI’m not going anyplace until I know how Psyche is,” Jesse said, leaning back against the side of his truck now, his arms folded.
    â€œShe’s dying,” Keegan said flatly. “Now you know.”
    Jesse set his jaw, McKettrick-style. Waited.
    â€œI was just wondering—” Molly began. The sentence fell apart in the middle, though, and she just stood there under the cold stare Keegan turned on her, looking miserably determined to hold her ground.
    â€œ What were you ‘just wondering,’ Ms. Shields?” he