He picked up a piece of corn still in its husk from the pile she studied.
“Mealie.” Maggie supplied the word.
Court repeated the word. “I wish they were all that easy.” Putting the ear back in the pile again, he asked, “Not exactly? What does that mean?”
“Little nosy, aren’t you?” She focused on the vegetables on the ground before her.
“Little touchy, aren’t you?”
Concentrating on the produce, she tried not to let the hurt show in her eyes. “We all have dreams that don’t work out, don’t we?”
“Yes.”
Maggie glanced at him. The simple word hid more than he let on. Did the aggravating doctor have a secret?
“What’s all this for?” He pointed toward the growing amount of food items stuffed into a woven basket she’d brought along.
Relieved at his change of subject, she said, “Supplies for a meal.”
“You cook?”
She put a hand on her hip. “Yes, I cook.” She mustered as much indignation as she could but tempered the words with a smile.
“I didn’t mean to imply …”
“I know what you were implying.”
“What I meant was where do you cook?”
“I use the mess hall kitchen on Sunday afternoons. I wish I could use it more often.”
“I’m a pretty fair cook myself.”
Maggie looked sideways at him in disbelief.
“I am. I learned to make meals on a one-eyed hot plate during medical school. I found cooking an excellent way to release stress after a long day.”
With his family background he’d done his own cooking? She would have thought he’d have his own personal chef.
“So who eats these meals you prepare?” Court asked.
She looked at him. “Fishing for an invitation?”
“Could be. I haven’t been here long but I already know your cooking has to be better than the usual fare in the mess hall. I’d be willing to assist. I could be your sous chef to earn one?” His grin seemed forced as if he’d not spontaneously shared one in a long time.
Maggie’s stomach tightened, flipped and righted in one motion. On Court the grin had been the sexiest she’d ever seen. If he did that and let those incredible eyes come out to play more often, getting an invite would be a sure thing. With a mental shake of her head she said, “We’ll see.”
Court asked to make her next purchase so he could practice his newfound skill. He did look at her once when the man spoke too fast. As they started back toward the hospital, the crowd thickened again. She’d just suggested they take a longer return route when a commotion drew her attention.
“Missy Maggie, Missy Maggie.” Neetie’s high-pitched voice filled the air. He rushed at her, wrapping his arms around her legs. Neetie’s forward movement propelled her backward. She stumbled and would’ve been flat on her back if it hadn’t been for the strong arm circling her waist.
“Ho, I’ve got you.” Court’s breath fluttered warmly against her ear.
The heat of his broad chest against her back reminded her of how long it had been since she’d been held by a man. She’d missed the contact.
Neetie circled to her side and pushed against the back of her legs until he squeezed between her and Court, squealing the entire time, “Help, Missy Maggie, help.”
The crowd gave way to a man swinging his hand above his head and shouting. Maggie could understand little of what was being said but she did hear the word take.
Court stepped in front of her and assumed a formidable stance. “Stay behind me.”
Maggie considered disagreeing with his directive but didn’t believe she could take on both Court and the angry man at the same time. Instead, she remained behind and to the side of Court, close enough that she felt him tense as the man approached.
Neetie worked himself between them, half hiding behind her and continuing to chatter. She looked down at the child and said, “Hush, Neetie.” He quieted but his eyes remained huge white circles in his dark face.
“Maggie, ask him to stop there, but do not move from behind me, understand?”
She did as instructed, bringing the irate man bearing down on them to a halt.
“Ask him what the problem is,” Court said in a tone that had the man looking at him instead of her.
She translated.
“Neetie stole.” She looked around Court and Neetie peeped around her legs.
Digging into his pocket, Court brought out a couple of coins and handed them to the man. He used his newfound words of Thank you and Goodbye and the man left.
Court turned, which brought his mouth to within inches of hers. Her breath caught and held for a moment. He had nice full lips. Her eyes flicked up to meet his. His eyes darkened.
Neetie pushed against their legs, disrupting the moment.
“Let’s get out of this crowd,” Court said.
Maggie moved the basket up on her arm and took Neetie’s hand, and Court clasped her other one. She tried to pull it away but Court held it securely.
“For heaven’s sake, Maggie, I just don’t want us to get separated in this mob.”
All of a sudden she felt silly and accepted the touch of her hand in his. It was no longer necessary for Court to protect her but it still felt nice to have someone look after her for a change.
Reaching the road back to the hospital, Court led them off to the side until they found the shade of a tree. He released her hand and looked down at Neetie.
The boy’s eyes widened with fear, and he hopped from side to side.
“Someone should take this child in hand. The boy needs to know he can’t steal.”
Maggie couldn’t disagree and she hoped to be the one receiving responsibility for Neetie soon. She needed to get Neetie’s village chief to agree. Would the chief and the village accept her as Neetie’s mother? She’d promise to see that Neetie’s culture was part of his life. She gave the boy an encouraging smile. Even if she couldn’t have a child of her own, her drive to protect remained strong. The pain that had ebbed to a dulled ache over the years sharpened again.
“I’ll handle this.” She went down on her knees to be at his eye level. “Neetie, what you did was wrong. You should never take what isn’t yours.”
“But I wanted—”
“That doesn’t matter. Court paid for what you took but you’ll have to repay him by working it off. I want you to sweep out his bungalow and take out the trash until you have paid him back.”
The boy’s eyes remained large as he glanced up at Court but he nodded his agreement.
From above her Court said, “Another thing, I want you to be careful about grabbing Missy Maggie. You could’ve knocked her down. Hurt her. You wouldn’t want that, now, would you?”
Neetie gave an earnest negative shake of his head, but still looked terrified. Couldn’t Court tell he was scaring the boy? Where had the congenial guy gone who had been with her before Neetie had shown up?
“I’m