The Happenstance Marshal

By Michael O'Gara

Mystery, action, great characters, with some comedy and a little romance thrown in for good measure, make this a must read. Millie knows what she wants but the world seems to be prejudiced against her and she’s having difficulty making her dreams happen. By chance and sheer grit, Millie earns the opportunity to fulfill her heart’s desires but the journey is hard and dangerous.
The small quaint lake front City of Safe Haven Harbor is not prospering in spite of its natural advantages as a tourist destination. People and businesses should be knocking down the doors to develop in Safe Haven but they aren’t. The city can’t afford to pay its bills and is laying off staff. The residents are at a loss as to why their community is languishing and cash poor when other communities close by are booming. People are finally ready for change and the newly elected reform Council has hired a young man named Mitch O’Keefe to unravel the city’s financial problems.

Mitch is thrown together through some very odd circumstances with Millie Boyd. Millie is facing her own set of challenges and is initially a reluctant partner to the attractive Mitch as they work to solve the mystery of why the city has no money. In doing so they set the stage for Millie to discover her talent for unraveling mysteries. Millie is nominated for election as city marshal, not knowing there are dangerous forces at work. She knows there is more to the city's problem than a lack of cash and to unravel the mystery she needs to be City Marshal.

Solving one mystery just uncovers a deeper and more dangerous mystery that will put lives at risk, including Millie's.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael O'Gara
• Release date: Nov 29, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465739513

Michael O'Gara

-story-telling multi-genre author selling internationally -MFA, MBA -author of 40+ novels -husband, father, grandfather, disciple -Content and joyful (mostly). Giving life my best shot. -Very happily married for decades.

Book preview

The

Happenstance

Marshal

Michael O’Gara

This is a fictional work coming from the author’s

imagination. Any similarity to actual persons,

events, places, organizations, and companies,

is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2011 Michael O’Gara

All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher.

Heartland Indie Publishing LLC

Table of contents

Chapter1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

CHAPTER 1 – Millie

Millie screamed it, What do you mean I don’t understand? She wasn’t just my sister-in-law; we were best friends. How dare you?

Shamus knew he had gone too far and was flirting with danger. He hung his head, Now, now, you know I didn’t really mean it.

Millie was furious! She and Shamus’s wife Cathy had been so close that the pain of her death was like a knife through Millie’s heart. There was physical pain. She knew how Shamus must feel losing such a wonderful wife but that did not give him the right to bully her and she wasn’t going to have any of it.

Millie let it all go, You are doing it again, just like when our ma died. Hiding in the bottle and getting mean is no way to grieve and it’s dangerous.

She snatched the bottle from the table before Shamus realized what was happening. She ran out the back door into the night throwing the liquor container against the nearest tree. It didn’t break. Now all her fury was focused on that bottle. The back porch light cast on it and it glittered like a snake in the grass; it lay there mocking her.

She marched over and picked it up. It was still partially full and she swung it with all her might against the tree. The force of the impact reverberated up her arm and it hurt. The bottle still did not break. Now she was beyond furious. She emptied the bottle on the grass, went into the garage, laid it on the concrete, grabbed a hammer, and broke the bottle. She invested all her fury in the process of breaking it into small pieces as the glass flew everywhere. When it was in a million little shards, she smiled with satisfaction. The satisfaction didn’t last long.

Millie heard the car throwing gravel as it tore out of the driveway. She ran to the front of the house to see the taillights of her car disappear. She knew where Shamus was heading and he was in no shape to be driving. How dare he steal her car! She started walking toward Joe’s Pool Hall.

Shamus was sitting at the bar nursing a beer chaser for the whiskey he had just downed when a determined Millie stormed in. Shamus did not notice her coming. He felt the tap on his shoulder and swiveled on the chair. Sitting there, he was just the right height. She cold-cocked him. The power started from Millie’s legs through her pivoting hips and the vicious right uppercut took him squarely on the chin. He dropped off the stool like an anchor dropped in the deepest part of the lake. She saw him go down as though it was in slow motion.

Millie turned to the men at the pool tables, It seems my brother has had more to drink than he could handle. Would a couple of you stout fellows help me get him in my car? She bent over and took her car keys from his pocket.

Everyone in town knew Millie. and two volunteers carried Shamus out and unceremoniously stuffed him in the back seat. Millie drove back to her place, left Shamus in her car and went inside. She flopped across her bed and cried herself to sleep.

She woke to the sun shining in her window. Coffee, she needed coffee. She made some and sat at the kitchen table savoring it. She heard the car door slam shut.

Shamus staggered through the door lamenting, Man, I must have really tied one on last night. He abruptly turned and ran back outside. Millie could hear him throwing up and she hoped it was on the lawn. She was not in a cleaning mood today.

She went to the bathroom, locked herself in, and showered. It was a long hot shower. Her tears mixed with the shower water. She stayed under the shower head until the water started telling her the hot water tank was just about drained. She got out, dried her hair, brushed her teeth, and dressed.

Outside she found her brother was asleep curled up on the porch floor. She left him there. She took the wad of one dollar bills from her pocket. She had exactly thirteen dollars left to live on until her unemployment check came. Screw it, she thought. Her car had a full tank of gas so she could get by. She drove to the Hi-Way Diner and treated herself to breakfast.

Doc Wooster came in and saw her sitting alone. Like some company?

Millie frowned and said, Suit yourself. You look horrible, Doc. When was the last time you got some sleep?

Doc commented, Well, aren’t you Miss Congeniality today? How’s Shamus doing?

Millie shrugged, Same as last time only worse. I am really worried about him.

Doc smiled, Heard about last night. Does he need medical treatment? Rumor has it he was decked by a certain redheaded package of fury that he should have known better than to cross.

Millie shrugged, I don’t think he has a broken jaw. He was talking just fine this morning.

The waitress came and Doc greeted her, Good morning, Doris. I’ll have the usual.

She smiled a come-hither smile, Sure thing, Doc. She went to put in his order.

Millie couldn’t resist, You know she’s got a thing for you, Doc.

Doc shook his head, Naw, she’s just being polite because I’m a good tipper.

Millie sighed in disgust, Men can be such blind jackasses.

Doc laughed, Millie, I’m shocked by your language.

Millie gave him a stern look and a finger, Doc, go …

Doc interjected, Don’t, Millie!

Millie went back to eating.

Doc really felt for Millie. He liked her and her brother. They were nice people who had been weighed down with too much tragedy. Their father had drowned when they were youngsters. Their mother, the beloved town saint, had died before her time of cancer, just a few years ago. Then Millie’s husband, Tom, was killed in Afghanistan a couple of years back and now Cathy.

Doris brought Doc his food. There you go, honey.

Doc smiled, Thanks, Doris.

Millie gave Doc a knowing look as Doris walked away. Told ya.

Doc, in a weak defense and knowing it wasn’t true as soon as it was out of his mouth, said, She calls everybody honey. Besides, what would a sweet thing like that want with a balding paunchy guy like me who works all the time?

In spite of his protestations, Doc was not altogether bad to look at.

Millie laughed, Doc, for such a smart man sometimes you can be as dumb as a box of rocks. Here’s some advice for the lovelorn. Doris is a sweet hardworking woman who has never married because most of the men in this town are scared to death of an attractive woman who has brains. She is one of the few successful business women in this town and doesn’t need a man to take care of her. You figure it out, in other words get your head out of …

Doc interrupted again, Don’t say it, Millie. You promised your ma you would clean up your language.

That’s playing dirty, Doc.

Yes, Millie, it is, but you know it’s true and you can do better.

Millie smiled. Doc had cheered her up in spite of herself and for that she was grateful.

Doc, you should coach a cheerleading team.

Doc smiled, Thank you for the encouragement, Millie. I will now double my efforts to help you be more lady-like.

Oh, give me a break, Doc.

Doris came to the table, More coffee, Doc?

Yes please, Doris.

Doris poured them both another cup and smiled, Anything else?

Doc smiled his charming smile, As a matter of fact, yes. How about letting me take you to dinner in the big city Friday night?

Doris smiled, It’s about time. I almost gave up on you. Friday is my busiest night, so how about Saturday night?

Doc beamed, Wonderful. I’ll pick you up at six if that suits?

Doris nodded in agreement, That will work out just fine. Sorry, Doc, but I have to get back to work.

Doc watched her walk away.

Millie saw the look of admiration on Doc’s face and couldn’t help herself, As they say in football, nice backfield in motion.

Doc laughed. They both enjoyed the coffee and exchanged pleasant small talk until Doc excused himself to go home and get some sleep. Millie sat there for a few minutes nurturing her coffee. She was at loose ends for the first time in her life and did not know what to do.

A little while later, Doris slid into the booth opposite Millie. The rush is over. Doc sure is a shy one when it comes right down to it. As Doc Wooster, he is really outgoing. Just as himself, he is cutely introverted. Go figure.

Millie looked in her coffee, Men are like that. You may think you know them, but sometimes it seems they are what they do. If and when you get past that, you can really start to know them.

Another surge of customers started arriving and Doris rose, I have to get back to work. See you later. Oh, and by the way, if you want to come and eat here until your unemployment comes, I’ll run you a tab. I wish I had a job for you.

Millie got up and hugged Doris, You are a good friend.

Millie drove down to the lakefront public pier where there was a bench and sat there watching the waves come in. She was determined to enjoy the sunny day for just a little bit. There was a slight breeze coming in off the lake. Fishermen were still using the public launch site to get their boats in the water. The parking lot was already half full of parked trucks with empty boat trailers behind them.

A small private plane on floats flew low over the lake on a landing approach near the marina. Millie watched it gently set down on the lake. There were a number of such planes that were based at the marina.

Millie remembered fondly all the fun times she and Cathy had enjoyed together on or around the lake. They had fished, swam, hiked, and picnicked together with each other and together with their husbands. She had been the best kind of friend. Millie missed her. The sun was getting bright and red haired freckled Irish lasses burned too easily. She had no sunscreen on so she headed back to her car.

Millie went home to find Shamus was not there. She needed to find something to keep her occupied so she could think through what to do next. The outside of the clapboard cottage she called home needed painting. She could not afford paint, but it didn’t cost anything to start scraping off the old paint. She had everything in the shed needed to do that. She would start at the top and work her way down. She put on some sunscreen and went to work.

She was up on the ladder scraping away when one of the volunteer fire department’s retired members came. He was on of the volunteers who had gotten too old to actually fight fires but now assisted as fire volunteers to direct traffic during fires and accidents. He had on his fire department fluorescent vest.

He called up to her, You need to come, Millie. Shamus has had an accident.

Millie climbed down the ladder and while coming down she yelled, Is he all right?

I don’t know.

She followed in her car to the accident scene. It was a mess. She left her car parked in the road and ran to the scene. Her brother and another man were lying on the side of the road. Shamus looked dead.

Wes, the volunteer Fire Chief, approached her, He’s all right Millie. He’s dead drunk and passed out.

She went to her brother and examined him. There was a half bottle of liquor by his side. What happened?

Wes shrugged, Looks like your brother crossed into the oncoming lane and hit this other guy head-on coming around the bend.

Millie started to say something that was not lady-like and caught herself. That’s not good. The other guy all right?

He’s hurt. I reckon he has a broken leg and a concussion. I hope that’s all.

Millie looked at the man and, from the way his leg was bent, it was obviously broken. The fact that he was unconscious worried Millie. Her brother was in enough trouble. His old truck, a salvaged dump truck, was unlicensed and it now looked like a part of the half-ton it had mangled. To make things worse, she knew Shamus did not have a current driver’s license or insurance. He never went anywhere except in his boat.

The Police Chief arrived. Actually Ned was the only police officer the town employed so the council had thought they might as well call him chief. The best that could be said about him was that he did a barely competent job.

Ned took some statements and pictures, bagged the bottle as evidence, and took a pistol from the man with the broken leg. Ned came over to Millie. Sorry, Millie, but I don’t have any choice. I’m gonna take Shamus to county lockup after Doc examines him. You know the routine from when, well you know.

Millie nodded, Yes. She thought to herself, you moron. You had to bring up my ma’s death just after my best friend dies and this happens.

Doc showed up and things took their natural course. Shamus was stuffed into the police car and taken to the clinic. It turned out that Shamus was all right and his treatment consisted of taking a blood sample and holding him for observation until he woke to make sure he did not have a concussion. The other fellow was a different matter.

While she was in the waiting room, Millie received a phone call. It was Anna, the mayor.

She asked Millie to help out as a personal favor. She told Millie who the man was. Millie did not know the man and exclaimed, That is the new city manager?

Yup!

Millie took a deep breath, Oh … and she caught herself before saying it. She said instead, Oh my.

Anna was one of Millie’s handful of friends and Millie could not turn her down, so agreed to do as Anna asked. She left the clinic.

Millie went directly to Bob’s Auto Repair shop. The tow truck was still hooked up to the mangled pick up. The old dump truck was already sitting in the yard. Millie went into Bob’s office where his wife was working on the books.

Millie called out to her over the counter, Hi, Alice. I came to get the things from the pickup. Anna asked me to unpack it for the new guy.

Alice looked up, It seems the least you could do.

Millie was shocked, What?

It’s a good thing they are taking Shamus to county for a bit. Half the town is ready to lynch him. We get this guy to agree to come and fix things and Shamus may have screwed it up. I hope you can do whatever to make things right.

Millie just said, ‘I’m going to get his stuff." She stomped out and went across the yard. Millie climbed up and retrieved the bags and boxes from the back of the pickup. There wasn’t really that much. In the cab, she found a laptop case and a small locked box behind the seat on the passenger side. She took the registration and insurance papers from the glove compartment. She stuffed everything into the trunk of her car.

Millie took the things to the rental cottage, which was a mess. She went to city hall and got some cleaning supplies, clothes hangers, and vacuum cleaner, then went to work. She stopped and got some food to prepare, spending half of her remaining cash. She went to her home and got what she would need to cook and serve a meal. It took several hours to clean up the cottage and several minutes to unpack the few possessions he had. She left the laptop bag on a shelf in the master bedroom closet. She thought to herself this poor guy travelled light and then concluded he must have more stuff coming when his furniture arrived.

She heard the truck coming. She finished what she was doing and went to the porch. The new manager was asleep in one of the chairs. She went back inside and started cleaning the oven. It was a mess. She had finished the oven and the refrigerator and was cooking when she heard stirring on the porch. She went to the door and watched the man struggle to get up.

Millie thought he was not at all bad looking and young. He had an athletic body and wore a tight T-shirt and blue jeans, which had been cut almost to the hip because of the cast. He was wearing navy boxers. For the first time in months, Millie had lustful thoughts. She stayed behind the door because she could tell she was blushing.

You could have asked for help, she said through the screen. She saw him falling, but there was nothing she could do. One minute he was up and the next he was falling face-forward. She burst through the door and went to him. There was blood everywhere. She tried to talk to him, but he was unconscious. She rolled him over and saw his face was a mess. His nose was crooked and obviously broken. There was no phone here and she had cancelled her cell service when she lost her job. This guy might have one but she was not going to go fishing around in his pockets. She considered the alternatives and went fishing anyway. She blushed all the time she was doing it. She found one but the battery was dead.

She got her car and pulled it up as close as possible to the steps. As she wrestled him into the car, she was thinking that he was heavy and also nicely muscled. She suddenly found herself wondering what it would be like with his weight on top of her. She realized she was blushing again, even though there was no one to see, and pushed the thought out of her mind. When he was finally in the back seat, she put his crutches in the car and took him to the clinic.

Babette was the one who took him from the car and put him in a wheelchair. She wheeled him into the clinic. Millie was sitting in the waiting room when the call came into the clinic. Babette came and told her there was a call. It was Anna.

Well, Millie, it seems we have a problem.

Millie hesitated a moment, We?

Yes, half the town has been calling my cell and they’re ready to lynch your brother. He started it all they say. He’s responsible for everything that followed.

Millie was starting to get her hackles up. Just a minute, Anna. I don’t like where this is going.

That may be, Millie, but we need you to go there. I need your help to keep a lid on this. I’ll owe you one.

Millie took a deep breath, I am not a happy camper, Anna.

Happy or not, Millie, we, I, need you to go camping. Will you do it? Will you help him out until he is at least partially recovered?

Millie did not respond.

Anna asked, Well, Millie? Will you?

Millie was reluctant, Ya, but under protest. I am not happy about it.

Good. I owe you, sister.

Millie said firmly, You sure do.

Millie had reluctantly agreed, but now she was angry at herself for doing so. What kind of doormat had she allowed herself to become? Sometimes she had no problem with the two letter word NO! Why hadn’t she used it with Anna?

*****

Mitch thought how strange it was to be starting his career in a place like Safe Haven Bay. In spite of his feeling of being somewhat like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, he was enjoying the pleasant morning drive along the winding lakefront road from Longview to Safe Haven. The community he was going to was as far from the life he had been brought up in as Oz was from Kansas.

It had been an unusual series of events that had led to his being hired as city manager of Safe Haven. He had been the only one interviewed for the job, partly because no other qualified candidate applied; it was probably because they could not afford to take the salary offered. The other part had something to do with the political influence his uncle had in this part of the country. His contemporaries had tons of student loans and the prospect of working for Safe Haven was out of the question. Students graduating with a Master of Public Administration Degree were looking for greener fields. Experienced professionals were unlikely to give Safe Haven a thought, especially given the desperate situation the city was in.

Mitch had an abundance of political experience thanks to the summer and other internships his uncle had been able to arrange. He had been told that for a new college grad his resume was quite impressive. The fact that Mitch had an undergraduate minor in accounting sealed the deal as far as the new mayor of Safe Haven Bay was concerned. The council vote to hire him had not been unanimous. One councilor had voted against him.

Mitch was not naïve. His O’Keefe name carried a lot of weight. His father and uncle had inherited money and been successful in their own right. They had been state and federal legislators for the area for decades. When Mitch’s parents died in a car accident, his uncle had taken him in. Mitch’s uncle Stan had only daughters and Mitch had become the son he never had. Mitch had been lavished with the best education and experiences to prepare him for political life.

It was not that Mitch needed the financial support. His father had left a large estate and his life insurance proceeds alone had been five million dollars. His father had structured the will so that Mitch had an annuity that guaranteed a life income and a trust fund over which he had gained control on his last birthday. Mitch was very frugal and no one at university would have thought he was well off. He had squirreled away most of the monthly trust fund payments he had received because his uncle had paid for his education. The truck he drove was a graduation gift from his uncle.

Mitch was no slouch living off the sweat of his father’s life work. He had graduated early from a private high school, been accepted at a prestigious university, and finished his undergraduate degree in three years. He had worked for two years as an unpaid intern for a senator before returning to grad school from which he graduated with the highest honors. Mitch did act and appear older, so most people assumed he was He knew that his name would only open doors for him. Once through them, he had to deliver.

Nearing his destination Mitch came around a sharp curve to find a truck coming toward him that was half on his side of the road. It was a narrow road and Mitch slammed on the breaks for there was nowhere to go. There was a rock cut to the left and a drop off to the lake on the other. He could hear the chatter of the anti-lock brakes. The air bags hit him with tremendous force. He felt like he had been punched by a professional boxer and then he lost consciousness.

The volunteer fire department arrived within minutes for the accident had occurred just a half mile outside Safe Haven Bay. They had to use the jaws of life to get his vehicle door open. Actually, they didn’t have to for they could have just taken him out the passenger side as that door had flown open in the accident. It was obvious the truck was totaled anyway so the boys just figured they had their first opportunity to use their new toy. After using it, they all agreed it was a marvelous thing.

Mitch came to just as Doc Wooster arrived. The firemen had taken Mitch out of the truck carefully. Carefully being they yanked him out without dropping him on his head. They sat him down at the side of the road.

Doc Wooster came running, How many times do I have to tell you yahoos to use proper procedure in removal? I must have shown you a dozen times.

Wes, the Fire Chief, tried to calm Doc, Now Doc, don’t get your boxers in a wad. It’s for sure he has a broken leg and a slight concussion, nothing more.

Doc Wooster was shaking his head back and forth vigorously, And where did you get your medical license? Doc then started spouting expletives, as he was apt to do when he was frustrated and exhausted.

Sitting beside Mitch was a man with a bottle of whiskey in his hand and reeking of it. He turned to Mitch, Sorry about that, and then fell over dead drunk.

Doc examined Mitch and said, You’ve got a broken leg. Does it hurt?

Mitch looked at the doctor, You daft ninny of course it hurts. It’s broken! Mitch moved a little and then fainted.

He woke up on a treatment table at the clinic. He struggled to sit up and saw his right leg was in a full leg cast.

Doc Wooster came in, Are you in better humor now? Should I put you back under?

Mitch asked, How is the driver of the truck that hit me?

Doc smiled, He had a bit too much of the white lightning to be hurt.

Mitch exclaimed, A bit too much! If that was a bit too much, I think your definition of dead drunk would mean literally dead, as in dead as a corpse.

Doc looked at Mitch seriously, I can understand you’re upset at the loss of your vehicle and the injury to your leg, but you have to take into account Shamus’s circumstances.

Mitch was dumfounded, Why?

Doc looked at Mitch, Reasonable question. Shamus’s wife was buried three days ago. He started drinking the next day. We expect he will be sober tomorrow and stay that way for years. The last time he got drunk was when his ma died.

Mitch could think of nothing else to say so said, Oh.

Doc nodded, ‘Ya. I hope you have collision insurance because I’m quite sure Shamus did not have any insurance. I suppose he won’t be driving though for a long time. The police chief already took his license. It turned out he had not renewed it and it expired eleven years ago. Everyone will just make sure he does not take to the road for a couple of years and he will have to go take a proper driver’s exam to get a new license."

Won’t he be charged with driving under the influence?

Doc shook his head no. Everyone knows what needs to be done. Municipal Judge Murphy will hear the no-contest plea to a lesser charge, order Shamus to pay a fine, not to drive for a couple of years and put him on probation, all legal like. You will have the report for your insurance company showing the uninsured driver who hit you was responsible. You get to go buy a new truck and Shamus goes back to being a fishing guide.

What about my leg? Mitch asked.

Give it a little time. It was a clean break and in a few weeks it will be good as new. In the meantime, you will need the crutches my assistant Babette will give you. By the way, I’ve been told someone took your belongings to your rental cottage. Doc handed him some pills. Take one of these pills for pain as needed and no more than one every four hours. You’ll need to drop by to see me in a couple of days. By the way, the mayor is away on business and said you could take the rest of the week off and start next Monday.

Mitch realized as he got up it was gone. Where is my pistol?

Doc shrugged, Ned, our only policeman, who fancies himself police chief of a department of one, took it.

Why?

You’ll have to ask him.

Mitch shook his head, How am I going to get around?

Doc shrugged, I’ll guess you’ll have to hire somebody to drive you. Shouldn’t be hard because lots of folks are out of work with the economy being the way it is. Babette will drive you home.

Now Babette was not the petite little French woman her name would imply. She was a two hundred pound Amazon who looked like a female Russian weightlifter that Mitch had seen at the Olympics. She was a massive six footer and probably the homeliest woman Mitch had ever seen. She was also the most pleasant and bubbliest person he had ever met. She brought him some crutches, which he used to hobble to her truck.

It might as well have been Mount Everest. There wasn’t any way he was going to be able to climb into the elevated four-wheel-drive monster truck that Babette drove. She opened the passenger door, took his crutches and leaned them against the truck then gently lifted him, all one hundred and eighty pounds, into the passenger seat. Mitch thought that perhaps she had been an Olympic weightlifter.

On the way to the cottage, Mitch told Babette he was sorry but he had to make a call. He borrowed Babette’s phone and called his insurance company to report the accident. He gave them details and they said they would send an adjuster and call the police for a copy of the accident report.

He arrived at the cottage to find someone was already there. Babette looked at Mitch and shrugged, Millie is unpacking your things. The mayor arranged it to help you out.

Mitch found he could get out of the truck himself as long as he didn’t worry about his dignity. He hobbled around to the front of the truck trying to get used to the crutches. Babette had thought to help him but had let him do it on his own.

He smiled at her, Thank you for the ride. It was generous of you.

She smiled, No worry. Doc will bill the insurance company for an ambulance ride.

Mitch was not sure if she was serious. He watched her drive away. It seemed to him that he was like an alien dropped in some unknown culture on a planet far, far, away. The people here were entirely different from any he had ever met. He awkwardly climbed the three steps to the porch and made it no further. He sat down on one of the two weathered wood chairs on the porch. The chair was comfortable with its high back. He immediately drifted off to sleep.

He awoke to the most delicious fragrance. The hunger was like a little child demanding feed me, feed me. He started to get up and realized it was going to be difficult to get out of the chair with his broken leg. He muscled his way forward in the seat until his butt was almost off the chair. He brought the knee of his good leg as close to the chair as possible and using the strength of his arms pushed himself upright. It was then he noticed the crutches had fallen over. Mitch struggled to pick them up. He finally got them under his arms when a voice came from the door. It said, You could have asked for help.

Mitch looked at the source of the voice. It was a cute petite red headed and freckled woman who could not have been much above five foot nothing. He took a step toward her and everything went black.

Mitch woke up back in the clinic on a hospital bed. He was in one of the six hospital rooms at the clinic. Mitch remembered from his research that it was twenty one miles to the nearest hospital and the clinic served the two hundred and fifty full-time residents of the community for most medical treatment. His face was a mass of pain and he put his hand to his face to find that touching it caused his eyes to tear up. He was staring at the ceiling, pondering the recent events, when Doc came in.

Well, it seems I may have missed something. It appears you have a concussion. We are going to keep you overnight for observation. You have a broken nose which has been splinted and two black eyes. Oh, and a cut lip, but good news, you didn’t break any teeth.

Mitch did not know if