Kessler straightened away from the car. “It wasn’t explained. The surgeon of record couldn’t be found because she’d run away.”
“And you’re here to take her back and have her apologize. Exactly what is Libby sorry for?”
“For leaving.”
“Ah. So she did nothing ethically wrong, then.”
“It’s unethical to walk away from her obligation to the hospital. And she has a responsibility to find out what happened to her patient.”
“But she has more of an obligation to herself,” Michael softly contradicted. “Tell me why you’re really here, Kessler.”
“Elizabeth’s my friend. We grew up together, and since her father died four years ago, I’
ve been looking out for her.”
“She’s not capable of looking out for herself?”
“Apparently not.”
Michael shook his head. “It’s more than your concern for a friend that brought you clear across the country. And more than what happened in her operating room. Why are ya here, Kessler?”
The other man’s features darkened. “She did something to one of my patients,” he said tightly. “The kid was in a coma when Elizabeth went into his room. But when she walked out, he was sitting up and asking for his parents.” Kessler balled his hands into fists at his side, his stance defensive. “I want to know what she did to him.”
The fine hairs on the back of Michael’s neck stirred, and he uncrossed his arms. “What is it you think she did to him?” he asked softly.
Kessler suddenly blew out a frustrated breath. “You’re a farmer, MacBain,” he said, waving at the field of Christmas trees. “You know nothing about medicine or the politics that goes with it. Elizabeth treated the boy that morning, but once he became my patient, she shouldn’t have gone near him. And the kid sure as hell didn’t come out of that coma on his own.”
Michael thought about the knife tucked inside his boot and wondered what reaction he would get if he pulled it out and held it against Kessler’s throat.
“You came here because you’re pissed Libby visited your patient?” Michael asked. He shook his head again and crossed his arms over his chest, deliberately relaxing his stance and ignoring his urge to go for the man’s throat.
“You’re leaving today,” he said evenly. “And you’re leaving alone.”
“Dammit. This isn’t even your concern, MacBain. I only came here this morning because you seem to have some sort of… influence with Elizabeth. And I need to know what she did to my patient.”
Again, the fine hairs on Michael’s neck stirred at the realization that this conversation was not about medicine or its politics. The man was hiding something.
Or fishing for something.
And suddenly, Michael knew there was more at stake here than Libby’s career.
Whatever had happened to the two patients Libby had seen that day had affected her so strongly that she’d turned her entire life upside down.
And she had run here to protect herself. Michael rubbed the spot where Libby’s snowball had hit him yesterday. Did he really care what had happened in California?
Nay. All that mattered was that she belonged to him now, and that James Kessler had just become more of a threat than an inconvenience.
Michael smiled and stepped forward. “Aye, Kessler, I’m only a farmer,” he said evenly.
“But I know more about the human body than ya might think. For instance,” he whispered, touching Kessler’s chest just below the knot in his tie. “I know that if ya poke a man right here, with just enough pressure, ya can crush his windpipe.
“And,” he continued, removing his hand and holding it palm forward, ignoring Kessler’
s suddenly defensive stance, “if I were to shove on the end of your nose, I could drive the cartilage into your brain before ya even realized my intent.”
Kessler took a step back, bumping against the fender of the car. “Are you threatening me?” he asked, his eyes widening and his face flushing with anger.
“Aye, I am,” Michael growled, taking hold of his tie and pulling him closer. “So, decide, Kessler. Is interfering in Libby’s life worth risking your own?”
Kessler grabbed Michael’s hand and tried to tug free. Michael simply twisted his wrist, tightening the knot against his throat. “Go home, Kessler. And don’t come back. And if I ever hear of ya contacting Libby again, I’m going to hunt ya down and show ya exactly what I know about human anatomy.”
His warning delivered, Michael opened his hand and stepped back. Kessler immediately stuck his finger into the knot of his tie and pulled it loose, gasping for air as he took two steps to the side.
“You’re actually threatening me,” he said, more in disbelief than in horror. “There are laws against that, MacBain.”
Michael crossed his arms over his chest again. “I don’t particularly care for those laws,”
he drawled.
Kessler smoothed down his clothes in an attempt to regain his composure. “Look. We’re both civilized men. There’s no need to reduce this to a pissing contest. I came to see you this morning to explain my concern for Elizabeth.”
“There’s only one civilized person here, Kessler, and I’m beginning to think it’s me. You’
re pretending concern for Libby when you’re really trying to destroy her career.”
“Dammit. Don’t you get it? Something strange happened to those two people, and Elizabeth’s at the center of it. Aren’t you even curious about what she did to them? Or are you too blinded by lust to see that you’re panting after a damn freak!”
Michael quickly stepped forward and wrapped one hand around Kessler’s throat while using his other hand to lift him up by the belt. He threw him onto the hood of the car, shifted his thumb to the pulse in Kessler’s neck, and pressed.
“As I live and breathe, I’m going to regret not beating you to a bloody pulp,” Micheal whispered into Kessler’s flushed face. “But you’re worth more to Libby whole and hearty,” Michael explained, pressing his thumb deeper.
“Because you’re going back to California, and you’re going to make all those questions about her go away.”
Kessler squirmed, trying to pull his neck from beneath Michael’s thumb. Michael repositioned his grip on Kessler’s tie again and dragged the man across the hood as he walked around the front of the car. Once on the driver’s side, he pulled Kessler back to his feet, opened the car door, and shoved him inside.
“Ya have one hour to get out of town,” Michael said, leaning down to look him in the eye. “But you’ll stop at Libby’s first and assure her that you’ll smooth things over for her at the hospital.”
“You’re insane,” Kessler whispered, his eyes bulging and his face flushing red as he stared up at Michael in horror.
“Aye,” Michael agreed. “I’ve been told that before. And I’ve been known to start wars for lesser reasons, which is why you’d be wise to do as I say.” He took hold of Kessler’s shoulder and squeezed until he winced. “And the news Libby gets from California had best be flattering, Kessler, or I’m coming after ya and finishing this. Understand?” he asked, squeezing harder.
James Kessler frantically nodded.
Michael decided their conversation was over. He gently closed the car door and walked back through his field of Christmas trees, sweat trickling down his back despite it being almost cold enough to snow. And as he returned to work, he wondered what had happened between Libby and the two critically injured people who were now walking the earth as if they’d never been hurt.
“He seemed in a bit of a hurry,” Katherine said as she stood beside Libby, both of them watching James pull out of the driveway. “Where do you suppose he went this morning, before he came here?”
“My guess is he went to see Michael.”
“Oh,” Katherine said, lifting her hand to her chest. “I would love to have been there.”
“Not me,” Libby said, rolling her eyes. “Michael probably got all manly and clammed up and wouldn’t even talk to him.”