That Certain Spark by Cathy Marie Hake Page B

vow to hold things in confidence.
    “Pain?” Mayor Cutter cast a disapproving look his direction. “You’re given to exaggeration, young woman. He’s fine. That just goes to show how little you know about medicine.”
    “Mr. Mayor, are you questioning the veracity of my degrees or the value of my experience?”
    “Diplomas can be falsified, as can be letters of reference. So few citizens here are willing to have you treat them, it’s impossible for you to have gained any level of experience whatsoever.”
    The doctor grabbed a slip of paper from the worktable, looking as if she would merrily toss the mayor down the closest well. She snatched up Karl’s pencil and with quick, sure strokes, listed the names of no fewer than eight different references. She handed the page to Cutter. “As you’ve questioned my integrity, professional ability, and experience before a witness, I hereby demand you confer with any of these individuals. Until you have all the facts, Mr. Cutter, mind your words. I’ll look past them this once, but if this is repeated, you’ll knowingly be committing slander. As a politician, you know well the importance of the words you employ and their ability to build consensus or the potential damage they can cause. It is my hope we’ll work together for the good of this community.”
    Karl had to give her credit. She’d kept her tone crisp and businesslike, even gave the mayor leeway that he didn’t rightfully deserve after implying she was a liar. Any man would have called him out; she provided facts and roped him in before he rode roughshod over her.
    “You could conjure up any number of names.” The mayor dropped the paper.
    “Among them, the dean of the medical college in Chicago?” Doc arched a brow. “And the chief surgeons of two different hospitals? Or—”
    “Quit chippin’ your teeth. Nag a man half to death—that’s what women do. It’s one more reason why they oughtn’t be doctors!”
    While Skyler growled, Karl again swept the doctor behind himself. “Don’t raise your voice at the lady.”
    The mayor sneered. “I didn’t raise my voice at a lady.”
    Every muscle tensed with the need to fight for this woman’s honor. From behind him, he felt the slightest brush of a hand and the softest whisper, “I forgive him.”
    “You forgive him, but I do not.” He continued to stare at Cutter. “Get out.”
    “I don’t need your forgiveness.” Clutching the crushed sconce to himself, Cutter marched out the door.
    Unable to wheel around without his leg tearing apart, Karl yanked her into view. Before he could open his mouth, she stabbed her forefinger into his chest. “I forgive that blustering windbag, Karl Van der Vort, but I don’t forgive you!”

Nine
    F orgive me? You should thank me!”
    “I don’t need rescuing.” Punctuating each word with a poke to his chest, Taylor added, “Do you understand me?”
    FKarl snorted. “You need to be rescued from yourself, if this is what you believe.”
    His observation brought her up short. Taylor sucked in a sharp breath, then started laughing. “You’re not going to rescue me from myself any more than you’re going to get me to thank you.”
    Sagely nodding, he finally sat on his stool. “I knew you to be a stubborn woman when first I looked at you. My mother—she had the same line to her jaw.”
    From the way he’d spoken of her in the past, the hulking man loved his mama. Because of that, Taylor overlooked the insult of being called stubborn. “Women must use their wits because we don’t possess brute strength.”
    “You didn’t use your wits just now. Not with Cutter.”
    “Of course I did, and you’re going to want to know how, aren’t you?”
    He started to rummage through some scraps of silver. “No.”
    Astounded, she leaned closer. “Why not?”
    “Forgiveness is not of the mind; it is of the soul.” He seemed to have some method to his actions, and Taylor found pleasure watching the way he strove