Waiting for Morning by Margaret Brownley Page B

tried to lick her face. It wasn’t the kind of dog she’d expect a tall masculine man like the doctor to own. “What’s his name?”
    “Magic,” Dr. Fairbanks said. “And before you say anything, I didn’t name him. In fact, I didn’t even choose him. He chose me.”
    “Come here, boy,” Donny called and Magic sprinted toward his chair.
    Molly straightened. “He chose you?”
    “Actually, I think he chose Bertha. I originally planned to driveall the way to Cactus Patch, so I stopped to purchase gasoline. When I wasn’t looking, Magic somehow managed to climb into the car and curl up in the backseat. I didn’t discover him there until twenty miles later. I turned around and drove all the way back to find his owner.”
    Molly studied the doctor with interest. Not many men would bother driving twenty miles to return a lost dog.
    The doctor continued, “Unfortunately, Magic’s owner had joined the Lord a week prior.”
    “So you decided to keep him.”
    He regarded her with clear, observant eyes. “It was more like he decided to keep me.”
    She glanced at her brother, who held Magic on his lap. “I guess that makes you a kept man.”
    “I’ve been called a lot worse.” The corner of the doctor’s mouth quirked upward. “I hoped I’d find you here. I came to offer you both a ride to church.”
    It was the second invitation to church that day, but coming from the doctor it was even less welcome. Not only was the man a menace, he was unpredictable.
    “You put my brother in danger, not once but twice. What makes you think I would go anywhere with you?”
    Certainly not church. It had been years since she stepped foot in one. Not since her father’s funeral. The elders explained that the presence of a dance hall girl would upset the delicate sensibilities of the town’s “respectable citizens.” For that reason, she was made to stand outside and peer through the open doorway with her brother. After the funeral she never went back.
    “I came to apologize for my reckless behavior and am willing to be forgiven,” the doctor said.
    She might have been more ready to forgive had it not been for the twinkle in his eyes.
    “Your idea of apologizing leaves a lot to be desired,” she said. “And no, I will not go to church with you.” God she might trust; church she did not.
    “I originally intended to invite you both for an afternoon drive.” Caleb flashed a devastating grin, teeth white next to his sun-bronzed skin. “I figured you’d say no to me, ma’am, but I didn’t think you’d say no to the Lord.”
    “So now you presume to know how I think.” She couldn’t make up her mind whether to be annoyed or amused.
    “If I’m wrong, I apologize.” He tilted his head. “If not, your chariot awaits.” He bowed from the waist. “And this charming and admittedly annoying driver is at your service.”
    She tried to maintain a cool demeanor but she had a hard time keeping a straight face. “Your modesty overwhelms me,” she said. Why did she always feel like she was on the verge of losing control in his presence?
    His grin widened. “I’ll have to be more careful in the future. Did you know that modesty ruins more kidneys than whiskey?”
    Donny gazed up at the doctor, his eyes bright with admiration. “And did you know that the moon has caused more insanity than syphilis?”
    Molly’s mouth dropped open. “Donny! We mustn’t talk of such things.”
    Donny didn’t look the least bit chagrined. “It’s true.”
    “I believe it is, but your sister is right. Such talk should be left to doctors, moral reformers, and rumormongers.” Caleb gave Donny’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze and turned his attention to Molly. “About church . . . it’s not every Sunday that the circuit preacher is in town.”
    “Sorry, not interested, but thank you anyway.” She turned toward the house.
    “I am.”
    Her brother’s voice stopped her in her tracks. She stared at him in astonishment. “You