by Hope Ramsay
“And then what?” he prompted.
“Mom always found a reason to leave.”
Something about the way she said those words rang false in Noah’s ears. She was covering something up.
“That’s not much of an answer,” he said.
She blinked. “Well, if you’re asking me to try to understand my crazy mother, then you’re asking for the impossible.”
“What kind of reasons did she have for leaving?” he said, ignoring the latent anger in Lia’s tone.
“It didn’t take much. I told you about Whiskers. And then there was the time I got into a fight with Laurie Kane, whose father was some muckety-muck in the Waterloo, Iowa, government. Or the time I brought home the less-than-stellar report card.”
“What the hell does a report card have to do with pulling up stakes?”
She looked down at her hands, worrying a hangnail. “That was the time Mom had a boyfriend. David was his name. He was really cool. Justin, my little brother, adored him. I guess I did too…”
“And?”
She shrugged again, a sure sign that she was in pain. She said nothing.
“What happened?” he asked, gentling his tone.
“I worked really hard to please him, you know? But I didn’t get straight As. And he got angry with me, and I started crying, and then Mom just unloaded on him. And the next day we were on the road again. Justin didn’t talk to me for almost a year.”
She turned her back on Noah, just as he was thinking about crossing the room and giving her a hug. But he hesitated. “I’m sorry,” was all he could manage, and the words seemed utterly feeble.
“So, you see,” she said in a soft voice, “who knows if I can actually settle down in one place? I guess Micah thinks the dog will keep me here.” She picked up a folder on her desk, took a big breath, and then looked over her shoulder. She’d put on a fake smile, and he had the urge to go tell Micah St. Pierre that his theory was, indeed, stupid. What the hell? Did Micah think she loved the dog more than she loved him? After she’d come across the country to be with him?
That was just screwed up, in Noah’s opinion.
“So, when are you going to call Mohini Rao and offer her the job?” she asked, breaking into his sudden ire.
“How did you know I was going to—”
“She seemed like the right fit when I talked to her over the phone.” She handed him the vet tech candidate’s folder. “I pulled together all the employment information for you. If you’d like me to make the call, I can—”
“No. I’ll take care of it.”
“Great. But you’re going to be busy today.”
“I am?”
“We have a full slate of appointments.”
“How did that happen?”
“I got Donna and the Methodist phone tree to make a bunch of cold calls to all the pet owners in town.”
“How did you know they were pet owners?”
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t but she did.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess she would. So, more well-cat visits?”
“A few. But we’ve got a couple of spay and neuter procedures coming up next week when Mohini will be on board and can help you. And at least two dog owners called up with concerns about hip dysplasia. So this practice might not be as boring as you thought.”
“You sound like my grandmother now.”
She shrugged. “Well, anyway, looks like you’ve got some surgery to do. And even though I’m not squeamish about blood, I don’t think it’s right for me to be assisting in any more operations. So you’ll just have to offer that job to Mohini and wait for her to arrive before you can get back into the operating room.”
It was encouraging news that he had the possibility of doing surgery here in this small practice. And really, he wouldn’t mind having Lia assist. She’d probably be as good as the average vet tech. And maybe, if they were locked in the OR together, they could get to know each other a little better.
Then again, it might be better if that didn’t happen. Because the more he learned about Lia, the more attractive she became, and the more he wanted to tell her that Micah St. Pierre was the wrong man for her.
Chapter Sixteen
Thank the Lord Sandra Jernigan arrived with her two-year-old shih-poo, Tinkerbelle, before Noah could pry any further into Lia’s screwed-up childhood. The doctor and his adorably fluffy patient headed for exam room one, leaving Lia to her thoughts and her disappointment.
Had he even noticed the dress?
No. Definitely not. Instead of leaning over the counter and flirting, or even trying to look down the front where she’d conveniently left the top button undone, the man had made a beeline for the coffee, given the dog a big smooch, and then fell back into his usual MO: hassling her about finding Prince a forever home.
Talk about an epic fail. Instead of flirting, he’d probed and pried into her past—a past she didn’t particularly like remembering or dwelling on. She had no nostalgia for her childhood.
And why the hell had she shared the whole David Cooper debacle?
Maybe it was her desperate attempt to underscore the point that she wasn’t the one who was forever pulling up stakes. Mom had done that. So, really, she wasn’t sticking around town because of Prince.
Besides, if Noah cared so damn much about Prince, why didn’t he offer to give him a home?
That thought stopped her because she knew the answer. Prince reminded him of Duke. And Duke had died under the wheels of a truck his own father had been driving. What a crappy thing to happen.
She could so totally relate.
Clearly, Noah blamed his father for the accident even though Lia doubted that Greg Cuthbert had hit the dog on purpose. Greg was a misogynist and loudmouth, but he wasn’t evil. He didn’t jangle her sixth sense.
Bud Joyner was a whole different story.
So later that morning, when Kate arrived to pick up Napoleon, Lia took a moment to truly inspect the older woman. She was walking a little bit better today, but her shoulders seemed uneven, as if she’d suffered a back injury. Of course a painful back could have come from any of a dozen causes. But still, Kate seemed overly tense. Her hands shook as she took out her credit card. And she kept glancing toward the door.
“Are you all right?” Lia asked.
“I’m fine. Why?”
Lia took her time printing out Napoleon’s care instructions. “Your hands are shaking.” In Lia’s experience, sometimes it was best to take the bull by the horns.
Kate glanced at the two other people in the waiting area. They were running behind because of two unexpected emergencies brought in by tourists. For all Noah’s grousing about the smal-town nature of this practice, they were suddenly very busy…and challenged.
But Kate seemed worried about talking with the others in the room.
Lia stood up. “Come on back here for a minute,” she said.
“Uh, no, I need to—”
“Just for a minute,” Lia said, putting on her warmest smile.
They stared at each other for a long moment, and Kate finally bit her lip and looked away. Her eyes misted over.
“Come on,” Lia said, guiding the woman around the reception desk into the small private area where the coffeemaker was located. Prince was snoozing soundly in his bed.
“Did Bud hurt the dog?” Lia gently asked. She’d already decided that focusing on Napoleon was the right approach. Kate might not talk about any violence aimed at herself. But she loved that dog.
Kate clasped her hands together, her knuckles going white. “He didn’t mean it.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “He was angry about something.” She opened her hands in this helpless gesture.
“What?”
“Just something work-related. I guess he and the new guy on the force don’t get along.”
“The new guy?”
“Grant Ackerman.” Kate said. “I gather Grant challenges Bud’s authority. And he hates that�
��” Her voice trailed off, and her silence said a lot more than her words.
“So he took it out on the dog?”
Kate’s eyes filled. “He didn’t mean to. He was just angry.”
“And you got between him and Napoleon?”
She nodded. “He would never have hit me otherwise. I’m okay. Just a bruise on my back.”
“Have you seen a doctor?”
“No. I’m fine.”
She was not fine but there were limits to what Lia could do. “Look, even if your husband was angry about some other situation, he shouldn’t have taken it out on the dog, or you. You know that, don’t you?”
Kate looked down at her shoes, slump-shouldered.
“I don’t want you to feel ashamed, okay? I just want you to get some help, is all. So I put together a list of marriage counselors that aren’t too far away. I’ll email it to you, all right? And you guys should talk about what happened. Go get some counseling. Because, you know, it’s not okay for him to get angry and take it out on Napoleon. Not even if it’s a one-time thing.”
She looked up. Eyes full of tears. “I know,” she whispered. “But I don’t think he’ll go to counseling, and I’m afraid to even suggest it right now. Something is going on at work. He’s really upset about it. But he’s not talking to me about what’s wrong.”
“Kate, if you think he might get angry again, you should give some serious thought to maybe going away for a few days or weeks. Do you have family you could visit?”
“Our son lives in Columbia.”
“Maybe you could take a few days away. You and Napoleon.”
Her shoulders straightened. “I’m not going to leave Bud. We’ve been married more than forty years. I can’t imagine being without him. Besides, I told you, he’s a good man. You’re new in town, so maybe you don’t see that.”
Lia refrained from expressing her view that, if Bud were truly a good guy, he would not be cheering every time she dropped a ball in the outfield. Lia was getting a very strong vibe that Kate had been living under Bud’s thumb for so long she had forgotten what it was like to be valued for her own self and not something she could do for her husband. If only she would take a step toward counseling. But there was little, in the end, that Lia could do besides make a recommendation.
The last time she’d made a recommendation, the result had been tragic. And besides, she was no longer an RPS, so it wasn’t her job anymore.
But that didn’t mean she had to abandon Kate. And she had a way to keep in touch…maybe. “I’ve heard a lot about how Bud is the town Santa so it’s possible I’m wrong about all this. So we’ll just put it behind us, okay? But while you’re here, I wanted to tell you about the softball practice sessions I’ll be organizing for the next few days. Kerri Eaton and I went out to the park last evening to practice shagging fly balls. We plan to do it again tonight and on Wednesday. You’re free to join us if you can get away.”
Kate blinked a couple of times. “I don’t know…and I usually work on Tuesday afternoons.”
“Well, just think about how you’d feel on Thursday if a ball came your way and you caught it with style.”
Kate’s mouth thinned into a determined line, and she nodded her head. “It would feel really good,” she said.
* * *
Abby had exactly twenty minutes to shower and change out of her Rafferty’s uniform before Grant was scheduled to pick her up. Tonight they were going to dinner and a movie. On the mainland.
And she was determined not to screw up her outfit this time. As much as she wanted to seduce Grant, she really wasn’t a femme fatale. So instead of a body-hugging dress, she wore something comfortable and real: White capris, a boatneck shirt, and a white cotton sweater in case it got chilly in the theater. Although she was hoping that Grant would keep her warm.
She was more excited about this date than she’d been on prom night three years ago. She was not planning on coming home tonight.
The butterflies were back in her tummy as she pulled her ancient VW bug onto Redbud Street and drove past the burned-out remains of the house down the street from Momma’s. Ethan’s police cruiser was parked in front, and police tape had been wrapped around the scene.
Great. She hoped like hell that Ethan was engaged in official police activity and not at home hanging out with Momma. The last thing she needed was for Ethan and Grant to have a face-to-face confrontation.
She parked her car and hurried up the walk and through the front door, which wasn’t locked. Momma almost never locked the door during the daytime, and sure enough, out in the kitchen Ethan was nagging Momma about the door.
It never failed.
She slipped out of her tennis shoes and tiptoed across the foyer to the stairs. She was halfway up to her room before Ethan came out of the kitchen and caught her in the act of trying to sneak past him.
“What’s the deal?” he asked. “Trying to avoid me?”
She turned around on the landing and rolled her eyes. “As a matter of fact, yes. I’ve got like fifteen minutes to get ready for a date, so—”
“With Grant Ackerman?”
Okay, this was going to get ugly but maybe it was time to tell Ethan to butt out of her life. She came down the stairs and didn’t stop until she stood right in front of her older brother. He was half a head taller than she was and outweighed her by a lot. But she was not intimidated by him.
“As a matter of fact, yes. I’m going out with Grant Ackerman. He’s taking me to dinner and a movie.”
“You can’t go out with that guy.”
“Says who? You? You are not the boss of me, Ethan.”
“Children, please,” Momma said, pushing her walker through the door into the kitchen. “Let’s not argue, okay?”
Ethan turned toward Momma. “Momma, I told you this guy is—”
“I know what you told me. But Abby has a point, you know. You are not the boss of her.”
Ethan turned back toward Abby. “I know I’m not. But I’m really worried about you. Grant isn’t what he seems.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just because he rescued that cat on Saturday doesn’t make him a hero.”
“What? Do you actually listen to the words that come out of your mouth?” Abby said. “Of course he’s a hero. He ran into a burning building. Brought out a seemingly dead cat and brought it back to life. It’s the most heroic thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Ethan kind of sagged where he stood. “Okay, so it was heroic. But he’s still not a good guy.”
“Why?”
“First of all, he’s too old for you.” Ethan put his hands on his hips, which were already occupied by his utility belt. He was here dressed out in his uniform, right down to the bulletproof vest.
“Really? Is that the best you’ve got?”
“I’m just saying that it’s weird that a guy that old is interested in someone your age. He’s probably some kind of perv, Abby. Can’t you see that?”
“No.” She put her fists on her hips, mirroring him.
“Okay, look, I didn’t want to bring this up. But he’s a troublemaker.” Ethan jutted out his double chin.
“In what way?” Abby asked.
“He’s rocking the boat inside the fire department,” Ethan said.
“Oh my God, is that it? It’s about damn time someone rocked the boat inside the fire department.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, except for Grant, most of those guys are out of shape. Did you see them at the scrimmage the other day? They were gassed just running to first base.” She cocked her head. “So when was the last time you went to the gym?”
Ethan’s face flushed, and Momma said, “Abby,” in that warning tone that suggested she’d probably gone too far.
So she drew in a breath and tried to calm down. It was hard. No one pushed her buttons the way her older brother did. “Look, I’m sorry about that. But I’m not sorry about saying that you could lose a fe
w pounds, bubba. You might not believe this but I worry about you too.”
Ethan wasn’t buying her contrition. If anything his shoulders got a little stiffer. “Abby, you don’t understand. Grant is trying to get Bud Joyner removed as the Fire Chief.”
“Really?” Momma asked.
“Yes. He’s raised a stink about the fire down the street.”
“Well, good for him,” Momma said.
Ethan ignored Momma and moved an inch closer, lording his bigger size over Abby. “I don’t want you to see him. Is that clear?”
She saw red. “No, it’s not clear, and furthermore you can take a flying f—”
“What the hell’s going on here? Y’all are caterwauling so loud the neighbors can hear.” Noah stepped into the foyer, his eyebrows lowered like thunderclouds.
Abby pointed at Ethan but faced Noah. “He came in here demanding that I stop seeing Grant. Like he thinks he’s the boss of me. Well, he can think again.” She turned back toward Ethan, still pointing, “And I swear, Ethan, if you trump up some charge to make Grant’s life miserable, I’ll…” Her voice faded.
“What?” Ethan said, folding his arms across the breadth of his bulletproof vest. “What will you do to me, Abby?”
“I don’t know. Something,” she said, throwing up her hands and turning her back on everyone else in the room.
“Can we sit down and discuss this?” Noah asked.
“No,” Abby said.
“What’s there to discuss?” Ethan asked. “I thought we were in agreement that Ackerman is too old for her.”
In agreement? Had Noah joined forces with Ethan? She whirled around. “You didn’t, Noah. I thought you understood.”
Noah raised his hands, palms out. “I didn’t agree with anything.” Then he turned toward Ethan. “Grant Ackerman is only twenty-nine.”
“What?” Ethan and Abby said this in unison.
Noah stifled a grin as he caught Abby’s gaze. “You didn’t know he was only twenty-nine?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Does it make a difference now?”
