Ghost Towns

Eight

As it turned out, 'help' came in the form of the same blonde woman who had come in the first time Rye woke after being attacked.

She opened the door when Jax knocked, and greeted him with a warm, familiar smile.

"Jax!" She exclaimed, the crinkles around her eyes deepening, "come in, come in!"

Despite the broody mood that had overtaken him, Jax smiled too, motioning for Rye to go in first. The woman's eyes followed the gesture, and her gaze landed at last on Rye.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, "you should not be out of bed," she said.

Jax sighed, "I tried to convince her," he said.

"Couldn't take being cooped up anymore," Rye said by way of explanation, shifting awkwardly on her feet. She felt distinctly like a child being scolded.

The blonde woman broke into a grin, the kind that made her whole face shine. "Come in," she said, holding the door open so Rye could pass over the threshold. Jax ducked in behind her, for a moment blocking out the light.

She introduced herself as Maria, the closest thing to a doctor around here, and the man standing in the kitchen as Hugh, her husband. Hurriedly, Maria ushered her into one of the kitchen chairs, ignoring Rye when she protested that the blood was going to get it stained.

Sighing, Rye moved to pull her sleeve down, the way she had when Jax bandaged up her shoulder, but Maria took her wrist lightly and stopped her hand.

Maria's face had transformed into something focused and still, leaving little trace of the easygoing and bright expression she had before. Rye yelped slightly when Maria cut the sleeve of her shirt, right from the elbow to the neckline. The fabric fell away and Rye rushed to catch it and press it to her chest.

"This isn't even my shirt!" Rye protested, embarrassed by how high pitched her voice came out.

Raising an eyebrow as if to say who cares?, Maria began to lay her things across the table, turning Rye's chair so she couldn't see without twisting painfully around.

Unfortunately, that meant that Rye was now directly facing Jax as he stood in the middle of the room, watching with that strained expression over his face.

Maria hummed disapprovingly, "it looks infected," she said, moving to the side so the light would fall better on Rye.

Impossibly, Jax tensed even more at that.

Rye squirmed uncomfortably, and it wasn't just because of the smell of the alcohol and the dread of what was to come. His gaze was heavy, and it made her shifty. And once the stitches began being pulled out, Rye doubted she'd be present enough to hold the rest of her shirt together.

She swallowed, ready to tell him to go away, but Maria beat her to it. Rye didn't think she imagined the whisper of a smile across the older woman's lips as she looked pointedly between Rye and Jax, as if she knew a secret the rest of them weren't privy to.

"Hugh," she called to her husband, whose footsteps echoed through the house in response. "Wouldn't you like to go fishing?" She asked, and at Hugh's perplexed expression added, "with Jax?"

Hugh stood there, in the entryway of the hall, blinking a few times before he picked up on what Maria was trying to say. He grinned, and his whole body relaxed.

"Come, boy," he lightly slapped Jax across the shoulder, "it's been so long and you barely come by anymore to see me."

Jax scowled so deeply Rye was sure it was going to give him premature wrinkles. "No thanks," he huffed.