by L. A. Fiore
“Good. I’m really happy to hear that.” She took a sip of her wine, there was more on her mind. She shared when she added, “I saw Jake’s sweater in your room. I thought you donated that.”
“I couldn’t.”
“I don’t pretend to understand what you’re going through, but do you think it’s healthy to hold on to his things?”
“I think it’s different for everyone, how you grieve over losing a loved one. I’ve done the stages, I’ve come out on the other side and I’m even willing to date again. But Jake wasn’t just my husband. He was my best friend and a part of my past. Remembering him can’t be unhealthy.”
“Well, when you put it that way.”
My traitorous thoughts turned to the man at the bakery. Rylee knew me too well.
“What?” She leaned up, like a predator catching the scent of its prey. “What’s that look for? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing.”
“No, that look was not nothing. Spill.”
“Last week I saw a guy.”
“What guy?”
“I don’t know. He stood out, I looked.”
“Stood out how?”
“Leather jacket, man bun, beard.”
“Here? Seriously?”
“Yeah. Like I said, he stood out, I looked.”
“Did he look back?”
“What?” I tried for nonchalance, but didn’t pull it off. Rylee pounced.
“He did. What happened?”
“Nothing. I was looking, he must have sensed someone staring and he looked back.”
“Did the air sizzle?”
“No.”
“But something happened otherwise you would have mentioned this before now. What happened?”
“You’re like a dog with a bone.”
“This is the first sign of interest you’ve had in man since Jake died. I am a dog with a bone. What happened?”
“I felt like I got the wind knocked out of me.”
“Hot damn!”
“Before you start planning the wedding, it was nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Oh, you so should have told me. You had a physical reaction to someone who wasn’t Jake. Whoever he is, you shouldn’t dismiss him out of hand. A raw reaction like that doesn’t happen every day.”
The gardens around the house were in desperate need of work and Rylee’s idea of fixing them was to plant grass seed. She wasn’t a gardener and so while she chilled out inside, I spent a few hours weeding and trimming. It looked a thousand times better but now we needed color. A few pots on the stoop would be pretty too.
Calling Rylee from the front step, I asked, “Do you want to come with me to town? I need plants.”
“No, if that’s okay. I’m binge-watching Psych.”
I loved that show; Shawn Spencer was hysterical. “All right, I’m taking your car.”
“Have fun.”
The mom and pop hardware store in town had a pretty extensive garden center. Grabbing a cart, I moved up and down the aisles of plants admiring all the colors and varieties. I had had a really nice garden back in New Jersey. It had taken years to get it how we wanted, but in the end it had been spectacular, including the cleverly concealed hot tub. The couple that bought the house also loved gardening, which thrilled me that all the work Jake and I had put into the yard wouldn’t be lost on the new owners.
As I put a few trays of hot pink impatiens in my cart, the sound of a motorcycle caught my attention. My eyes moved of their own volition to the source of the sound. He pulled up across the street from me, stopping in front of a woman who stood at the curb. He was so effortlessly appealing that even being prepared for the look of him, I still felt that stir in my belly. He smiled and a shiver of heat danced along my nerve endings, though I doubted there was a soul alive who wouldn’t have felt the effect of that sexy grin. He fascinated me, as did my reaction to him. He was sexy, sure, but I’d seen sexy in the years since Jake. Never had I felt such an elemental attraction. Raw enough that curled up on the sofa watching a movie didn’t interest me, but naked and sweaty in front of a fire? Absolutely. And having spent the past three years feeling nothing, I had to say it was nice to feel the blood rushing through my veins again and the slight increase in speed of my heart as it pumped that blood.
My focus shifted to the woman and even from my distance, I recognized the look of her; it was one Connor had shared. She liked to party, maybe not as hard as Connor, but she was no stranger to drugs and alcohol. It was obvious she knew him well; there was a comfortable easiness about them. I hoped his friend didn’t put him through what Connor had put Jake and me through. And it was while I shamelessly stared that his head shifted and his focus moved across the street to zero in on me. In response, I actually felt breathless and, if I were being honest, edgy.
A commotion behind me pulled my attention, but the sight that greeted me just seemed wrong. Mr. Milburn, the lovely older man I had met at Doc Cassidy’s office, was having heated words with a creepy younger man, the kind of creepy where I wouldn’t turn my back on the guy since he looked more than capable of putting a knife between my shoulder blades. I didn’t want to exacerbate the situation, but I did want the man to move on because I didn’t like how he was pressing threateningly into Mr. Milburn. I feigned cluelessness and called a friendly greeting.
“Mr. Milburn, so lovely to see a familiar face.”
Both men turned in my direction; Mr. Milburn’s expression before he smiled was a bit scary. The other guy barely acknowledged me before he walked off.
“Sidney, hello.” How he sounded so jovial when he’d been livid only seconds before surprised me.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh, that. Yeah. That’s Sammie Chase, a former client of mine. So you’re doing a bit of gardening.” He seemed undisturbed by the encounter; were all his relationships with former clients so contentious that he’d grown accustomed to that level of conflict? It wasn’t my business.
“The beds were already there, but they were in need of some tender loving care.”
“Nice. How are you finding Sheridan? I imagine we move at a slower pace than what you’re used to.”
“Yes, but it’s nice. I needed a slower pace.”
Understanding moved across his expression, but he didn’t reply. Instead he asked, “Do you need help carrying your purchases?”
What a gentleman. “No, I’m still shopping, but thank you.”
“I need to get home, it’s time for Cooper’s lunch. It was nice seeing you again.”
“And you.”
He strolled away, but stopped and looked back at me from over his shoulder. “Thank you for the rescue.”
“Sometimes the damsel needs to save the prince.”
He laughed before he said, “Agreed.”
I returned to my shopping cart, my eyes moving across the street but the sexy man and his friend were gone.
After the garden center, I came home and planted the trays of annuals I had purchased. It looked pretty, but was far from finished. While I gardened, my thoughts had turned to the sexy man a few times and the slow burn those thoughts triggered felt really nice. It was encouraging that my grief and three years of abstinence hadn’t permanently damaged my libido.
“Trust me, Sidney, you have to meet them in person. I would not do them justice if I attempted to explain.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re a riot.”
“In what way?”
“You just need to go. Spike’s medicine arrived with the morning deliveries and you’re dropping it off.”
“And they won’t guess that I’m there to check them out?”
“They probably will, but you aren’t going to care. Neither will they. Trust me.”
“All right, I’ll go.”
“Come back here after, I want your thoughts.”
“You’re weird.”
“Ma
ybe, still come back.”
“Fine, I’ll come back.”
The Thompson brothers owned the gas station on the other end of Historic Main Street from where the clinic was located. Spike was their Rottweiler, whom Rylee had seen earlier in the week for his annual check up. I couldn’t lie; Rylee’s odd behavior piqued my interest.
As I walked down Main Street, I thought about the stray dog. He’d eaten the hamburger I had left for him and the one I left the following morning. My hope was he’d grow comfortable enough around me that I could check him over, but he was semi-wild so I needed to take baby steps.
The Thompson brothers’ gas station was on the wrong side of weathered and worn, made even more noticeable since Historic Main Street was a tourist attraction so most of the other business owners kept their establishments in pristine condition. Spike greeted me first; a three-year-old, hundred and twenty pound Rottweiler who was as friendly as he was big. Ichabod and Jeshaiah appeared, a study of opposites. Rylee’s descriptions had been spot on. Ichabod’s hair, what was left of it, was blond and he was reed thin. Jeshaiah was as dark as Ichabod was light and he was round, like Mr. Miller, with a belly that would make Santa proud. They were a blending of Beverly Hillbillies and The Waltons and despite their less than clean appearance, as they approached they didn’t put me off. In fact, I felt almost comforted because they were what they were. No pretense.
“Who is this pretty lady?” Ichabod asked as he stopped just in front of me, invading my personal space.
“I’m Sidney Stephens. I work with Rylee and she asked that I drop off Spike’s medicine.”
“You hear that, Jeshaiah, she’s dropping off the medicine.” He was chewing on a toothpick that he pulled from his mouth and pointed at me. “We could have picked it up.”
“Rylee wanted me to meet you.”
His lips curled up exposing very yellow teeth. “She took a shine to me.”
I didn’t mean to laugh, but when I saw the self-deprecating smile spread over Ichabod’s face I couldn’t stop it.
“She did, didn’t she? Sent you here to check me out. Maybe probe me with questions to see if I’m available. A guy like me there’s lots of interest.”
“Yeah, interest in when you’re going to take your next bath,” Jeshaiah chimed in.
“You should talk. Why the hell do you think I don’t stand down wind from you.”
Rylee was right; these two were a hoot. “How long have you lived here?”
“Are you asking for you or your friend?” Ichabod asked.
“Me. Your tanks are vintage, so I’m guessing this was probably the original station in town. Did your family own it even then?”
“Yeah. Pa owned it, his pa before him and now we do. Pa died a decade back. God rest his soul.”
“Amen,” Jeshaiah added. True affection heard in his soft whisper. I hurt for them but I also felt envious that they had the kind of father who warranted such reverence a decade after his death.
“I’m sorry.”
Ichabod waved that off. “Do you have family?”
“Foster kid, so generations of family is lost on me, but something I’d have liked.”
Ichabod’s expression changed, one that looked even more sorrowful because I hadn’t had family. He wasn’t wrong. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I found a family with my husband.”
“Good man.”
The roar of an engine came from down the street, which had my heart tripping in my chest just as he pulled into the station. I never really gave motorcycles a thought, but the way he sat on one I liked…a lot. And I couldn’t believe I just had that thought. For three years none of the men Rylee paraded in front of me warranted a second look and this guy I couldn’t not look. But getting caught staring again was not going to happen; it was time to go. “If you have any questions about the medicine for Spike, please don’t hesitate to call the clinic. It was nice meeting you both.”
“How about you give me your number and I’ll call you direct,” Ichabod said as he winked, then added, “You ever go to the Brass Bull?”
“Frequently, since we moved here.”
“Maybe we’ll see you and the doc that has the hots for me there sometime.”
“I’ll buy the first round.”
“Ah, you are my kind of woman. Nice meeting ya, Sidney.” He then turned and joined his brother who was already filling the tank for the sexy man.
I glanced at him, it was hard not to. He spoke, he wasn’t talking to me—he was addressing Jeshaiah—but that voice. Good God, I could listen to him read the phonebook and be perfectly content to do so. I should have walked away. The Thompson brothers were otherwise engaged and I was just standing there staring again, but I couldn’t get my feet to move. And as he had done before, his shoulders tensed right before he glanced in my direction. He recognized me, and like our last encounter, he didn’t look away either. He leaned up against the vintage pump, pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and just stared back. A stare that turned into a blatant once over as his eyes moved down my body, lingering a moment longer on my breasts. When his eyes found mine again, he grinned. It was just the slightest curving of his lips and yet my body throbbed. That was enough to get my feet moving. I tried to convince myself my reaction was due to three years of abstinence, but I was pretty sure even if I were a lady of the night that look still would have gotten me hot. It was just that good.
Doc Cassidy had stopped by earlier for Rylee, an emergency home visit. He was retiring at the end of the summer, so we’d have the whole summer to get up to speed on his patients and it would give them time to get used to us.
Since I was home, I decided to tackle the grocery store. It had been three weeks since we moved here and outside of the burgers I had grilled up, we’d been grabbing dinner out. That wasn’t healthy and the house came with a fairly new refrigerator, one that was currently empty. It was time to stock up.
As I drove through town, I wondered if the sight of the mountain right there would ever grow old for me. I hoped not. The beauty, the majesty and how humbling it was to be reminded that we were just Mother Nature’s guests.
Sometimes it felt like New Jersey, my life there—the group home, Mrs. Crane, the Millers—was a different lifetime...all but Jake. I still felt him, took comfort in that. The Stephenses were taking a vacation to Greece, an extended several month vacation; I’d called them last night and wished them a safe trip. They promised to send lots of pictures.
It was early evening on a Saturday and the parking lot for the market was packed. Note to self; don’t shop on Saturday. I drove around for a while, finding a spot down one of the side streets near the store. Maybe it was like one of those dating while shopping events the store in New Jersey used to have every month. Otherwise, this much activity at the grocery on a Saturday night did not bode well for the social life in Sheridan. Poor Rylee. I was just passing a little side alley when I felt the hair on my arms stand on end. Since the only person to ever cause a physical response in me like that was the sexy man, it was a pretty good guess he was down that alley. I had no business going down there and when I did bump into him, and I knew I would, what would I say? On the other hand, he was down an alley so maybe he was in trouble. I didn’t have to argue too hard with myself to check it out. I had only gone a few yards when I saw him leaning over his motorcycle. His back was to me, but even in that position I could tell he was in pain. There were a few drops of what looked like blood near his bike’s tire.
“Are you okay?”
“Go away.”
His response jarred me since everyone we’d met in Sheridan had been very friendly and, to be honest, kind of pissed me off. “You’re bleeding.”
“No shit.”
To say I was disappointed would be fair. The man was hot, first man since Jake to make me hot, so to learn he was also a dick was a definite disappointment. I contemplated leaving him, but I was a doctor and he needed one; sure, my patients walked arou
nd on four legs, but anatomy was anatomy.
“I’m a doctor. Can I take a look?”
He turned then, so suddenly I jerked and almost fell back on my ass. Even being a dick, my body responded to him—the full beard, the dark hair pulled up into a bun, the most piercing pale blue eyes I’d ever seen and full lips, framed by whiskers, that were sneering at me.
“You’re a doctor?”
He practically snarled that. His words were more an accusation than a question. “I’m a vet.”
If possible, his sneer grew even nastier. “Not a real doctor.”
Physically the man was very appealing, but I wanted to kick him in the balls every time he opened his mouth. “I’m a VMD and since I work with animals, you’re in luck.”
The sneer shifted, but whether he stared in anger or humor I couldn’t say.
“Are you going to continue to bleed all over your bike or will you let me take a look?”
Heat and something more primal flashed in his eyes before he moved them down my body again not at all hiding his lascivious leer. Being this close to him I felt exposed, as if he could see through the layers of fabric to my body beneath.
“You talk to your old man like that?”
Like I would discuss Jake with this clown. “What I do with my old man is none of your business. Do you want my help or not?”
“Take a look.”
He said that as he lifted his white T-shirt, a motion I suspected he did often in front of women. One he was hoping would get a rise from me and honestly it did. He was built like a freaking god, but the blood marring his eight-pack kept me from actually drooling.
Hunching down in front of him, I heard the chuckle that resonated deep in his throat. “Got to say, I like you kneeling in front of me babe.”
Charming.
It was a gunshot wound. Not one he received today, but definitely within the past week. Sometime very close to when I had last seen him at Ichabod’s. What I found even more surprising than the fact that he had a gun shot wound, was that he only had one. With his delightful personality, he should be riddled with them…like human Swiss cheese. The thought nearly had me giggling. “You were shot? How did you reopen this?”
