Southern Comfort by Amie Louellen Page B

go to work at a vet’s office after you finished journalism school?”
    He took his sweet time in answering, using his own cotton ball to dab at the smears of blood across her leg.
    Natalie sucked in a sharp breath. “Yeow,” she said.
    He dabbed again and she felt his cool breath against her leg as he blew it dry. “Better?” He looked up at her, and Natalie was lost.
    Why, oh why, did he have the ability to do that? Just look at her and make her insides melt? It was disturbing on many levels. First of all, she didn’t want to feel that way. And second of all, she was practically engaged to the most handsome man in the entire county, and third of all she … Well she really didn’t have another reason. Weren’t the first two enough?
    “Who said I finished journalism school?” His brown eyes twinkled as he spoke, and she wondered if he was teasing her. She made a mental note to check it out on the computer.
    Why should she?
    He seemed to be on the level. If he wanted to murder them in their sleep or steal all the family heirlooms, he could have done that long ago without offering to fix Aunt Bitty’s cellar stairs or paint the foyer.
    “I see.” Just how many jobs had this man had?
    Natalie did her best to ignore his soft hands and gentle touch as he lightly rubbed the area with the dab of antibiotic cream. Then he covered the worst of the cuts with bandages.
    “There you go.” He smiled that smile that made everything tilt on its head. Maybe she just needed some alone time with Gerald.
    When was the last time they had any alone time together? She thought back. The last time they were together was at the town meeting. Before that it was the board meeting for the historical society and before that it was a luncheon with the county sheriff and other law officials in the county.
    She couldn’t remember the last time she had just sat on the couch with him and watched TV. Okay, so they never did that. Gerald Davenport wasn’t the type to sit around and watch TV, or go to the movies, or something else equally blue-collar. And there weren’t a lot of highbrow things to do in Turtle Creek, Mississippi.
    “T–thank you,” she stammered.
    Before she knew what happened, he swung her to the ground. Like she couldn’t get off the cabinet by herself. She could have, but she just sat there dumbly watching him as he put away all of the medical supplies.
    “I’m going to head out to the cemetery tonight. You want to go with me?”
    “Sure,” Natalie said before she could stop herself. The last thing she wanted to do was go out to the cemetery at night. Again. Especially not with a man who made her feel so … trembly. “Why don’t we go in the daytime? Wouldn’t it be easier to see things?”
    “Your aunt says the ghost always comes out at night. So I figure if I’m going to get a chance to look at him, then I need to go at night … tonight. He does come on Thursdays, correct?”
    Natalie shook her head. She wasn’t going to fall for this. “There is no ghost.”
    “I thought we had an agreement. Now do you want to go with me or not?”
    “I already said I would.”
    “Put on some good shoes and let’s head on over there after dinner. We can maybe get a look at the place a little better before night falls.”
    “I suppose.” She stopped. “You don’t really think whatever’s causing the ghost is going to be there tonight, do you?”
    “Anything is possible. Maybe Bitty thinks the ghost only comes on one night because that’s the only time she expects him and the only time she looks out the window.”
    Natalie shook her head. “Whatever.” She started toward the door, trying to ignore the tingle in her legs and on her arms where he had touched her just moments before. Surely that would fade in a bit. She didn’t know how much longer she could take it.
    “After dinner then?” he asked.
    “Yeah.” She nodded.
    “And Natalie?”
    She turned to face him.
    “This does not count as our