Sweet Talk

by Jackie Merritt

  Val sighed. “I might as well tell you about it. I’m sure it’s the main topic of conversation at every dinner table in town.” In as few words as possible, she related the still-embarrassing incident.

  “Well!” Estelle exclaimed. “That certainly explains that grocery delivery. And that hundred dollar bouquet of flowers sitting over there.”

  They all looked at the vase of flowers on the dining room sideboard, where Estelle had placed it. “So we can enjoy these lovely flowers while we eat,” she had said.

  Estelle cocked her left eyebrow and met her husband’s curious eyes. “Delivered by Reed himself, in case you’re wondering.”

  Val felt resentment for the man again churning her insides. “I don’t even like cut flowers in the house.”

  “Oh, you do, too,” Estelle declared. “Jinni always had a vase of flowers in your room when you were feeling ill, and you loved looking at them. You said you did, anyway.”

  Val heaved a sigh. “Okay, fine, I do like flowers in the house, but I don’t like Reed Kingsley’s flowers.”

  “Now, that makes sense,” Estelle said dryly. “Should I throw them out?”

  “I’ll do that myself. Let’s talk about something else. Jim, I think those pups might be full-blooded Labs.”

  “Well, the mother sure is. Why in heck someone would desert a nice dog like her sure beats me.”

  The female Labrador had been hanging around the Animal Hospital for several days before Jim brought her inside. He’d been putting food out for her because she obviously had no home.

  Val had then examined her and told Jim to put her in the Dog House to await the birth of her pups—the large area designed and constructed for the care and kenneling of dogs. The Animal Hospital also had a Cat House. That name often tickled Jim’s funny bone, which it had done to Val, too, when she’d thought it up and had signs made for both of the kennel areas.

  They all chatted about the animals presently under Val’s care until the end of the meal. Jim and Estelle had a slice of cake with a dollop of whipped cream on it, but Val just sipped her tea and waited for them to finish.

  “I’ll take care of the dishes,” she told Estelle. “You did enough today.”

  “Well…the pans I used are already washed and put away. I suppose putting the dishes into the dishwasher wouldn’t be too strenuous for you. All right, we’ll go on home. Come on, Jim, I’m just about ready for bed.”

  Val rose from her chair. “You worked hard all day. You always do much more than I pay you to do, Estelle.”

  The older woman waved her hand. “We’ll have none of that now. I know my limits and I rarely overdo.”

  “This house was never kept as clean as it’s been since you took over,” Val said.

  “Well, I do like things clean and smelling good.”

  Val followed Estelle and Jim around until they had collected their things and left through the back door. Immediately Val felt the silence of the house, but she didn’t mind it. Sometimes she liked being alone, which had a lot to do with why she had bought her cabin in the mountains. Whenever she felt crushed under the weight of old memories or current problems, she drove the eighty miles to the cabin and absorbed the peace and quiet for a weekend.

  She’d been thinking a lot about her rustic cabin lately, and she considered going to the mountains this coming weekend. She was well enough now to make the drive, wasn’t she? If only those darn weak spells would stop. She’d discussed them with her doctor, and he’d told her they were normal and would gradually subside.

  Okay, she decided, I’ll go to the cabin this weekend if there are no more spells this week. If there are, then maybe I’ll put it off for another week.

  Val was in the kitchen, wiping down the counters and the front of the appliances, when something on the floor caught her eye. It was small and white and lying under the edge of a cabinet. Estelle had obviously missed seeing it or it wouldn’t be there. Val bent over and picked it up. It was a small envelope with a Jilly’s Lilies logo in the upper left corner, and it was sealed.

  Obviously it had come with the flowers and fallen to the floor before Estelle had seen it. Frowning, because it of course contained a message from Reed Kingsley, Val thought about tossing it in the trash without opening it.

  She couldn’t quite do that, and grimacing over what could only be described as plain nosiness, she slit the tiny envelope open with a knife and extracted the card. Embossed at the very top of it were two words: Sweet Talk.

  Val moved to a chair and sank down on it. Sweet Talk. For God’s sake, why would Reed Kingsley pick out a card with that heading? Below it, of course, was some handwriting—his, obviously.

  Val, I can sweet-talk with the best of them but, strangely, not with you. Still, I keep wishing you’d give me the chance to try sometime. Anytime. Forgive my transgressions, if you can, and let yourself see the real me. Reed K.

  Groaning, Val put her arms on the table and her head on them. He wanted to “sweet-talk” her? Why? Damn it, why?

  Chapter Four

  Val’s announcement appeared in the morning newspaper, and the phone at the Animal Hospital started ringing before she even opened the place for business. When she walked into her office there were messages on her answering machine, and she pushed the Play button to hear them.

  “Dr. Fairchild, this is Ruth Machler. I’m so pleased you’re feeling better. I’m sure you recall my little dog, Spotty. He’s fine right now and doesn’t need an appointment, but I just had to let you know how relieved I am to hear you’re all right.”

  “Good morning, Valerie. This is Harry Lund. So glad you’re in good health again. My family and I prayed for you all during your ordeal. Valerie, I was going to drive Pumpkin to Whitehorn to have her teeth cleaned, but I would much rather bring her to you. I’d like to make an appointment for tomorrow, if possible. Please let me know.”

  “Hello, Doc. My heavens but I was delighted to read that announcement in the paper this morning. I, and many of my friends, were so worried about you. I can’t begin to describe how thrilled we all are that you beat that dreadful illness and are back to work full-time.”

  The messages went on and on, almost every one of them conveying worry for her health and gladness that she was well again. The kindness and consideration of the community—some who left messages weren’t customers—stunned Valerie. She sat at her desk in amazement while the messages played one after another.

  Jim walked in and realized what was going on. He sat down and listened, and after the machine switched off, he smiled. “Sounds like Rumor loves you, Doc.”

  Before Val could reply to his remark, the telephone rang. She reached for it but didn’t pick it up immediately. “I…I’m truly touched, Jim,” she said with a catch in her voice.

  He nodded and got to his feet. “The dogs and cats are fed. I’m going to clean out the kennels now. Is there anything special you want done this morning?”

  “Not that I can think of. Thanks, Jim. Catch you later.” She picked up the phone and said, “Animal Hospital.”

  It was a busy, stimulating day. People dropped in with their pets, some without a pet. Val felt very much as she had during those quite enjoyable years when she’d been as close to genuine happiness as she’d ever expected to get. She hadn’t asked a lot out of life for a very long time; working with animals, and having her own home and veterinary practice, had been enough. And it had never occurred to her that something might be missing in her day-to-day existence.

  Now she wondered about that, although she wasn’t at all thrilled with the notion that a silly, certainly unsolicited message about sweet talk on a florist’s card could actually make her rethink all that she’d made of her life. She did know, however, that an element she’d never expected to intrude upon her peace of mind was now doing exactly that. Behind conversations, tasks, almost every single thing that took place all day, lay the knowledge that instead of throwing that ridiculous little card in the trash last night, she had buri
ed it under some filmy garments in a drawer of lingerie in her bedroom. Why hadn’t she stuck the damn card in a drawer of sweaters?

  Around three that afternoon her strength gave out. Exhausted, she asked Jim to please take over; she had to go to the house and lie down for a few minutes.

  He agreed at once, of course, and Val told him to call the house should an emergency arise that required professional attention. Again he agreed, then he watched her leave with a concerned and caring frown on his weathered face. Val had become like a daughter to him and Estelle. The two of them had talked about their mutual affection for Valerie Fairchild many times. They liked Jinni, as well, but Jinni could take care of herself. There was something about Val that tugged at their heartstrings. She had never explained her past to them, but they felt certain something bad had happened to cause that bleak look to appear in her beautiful eyes every so often.

  They had each seen it, discussed it, surmised all sorts of scenarios and worried themselves half to death over it. But they really knew nothing concrete about Val’s past, and they didn’t let themselves count on knowing more in the future, as their dear Val was a very private woman.

  Heaving a sigh, Jim left to get some work done.

  Val walked from the clinic to her house and went in through the back door. Estelle had left early; she had done so much in the house yesterday there’d been no reason for her to stay today. Val went directly to her bedroom, took off her shoes and fell across her bed. She was truly done in, and she closed her eyes and breathed a long sigh of relief just because it felt so good to be lying down.

  Then she thought of Reed’s card again, and her eyes flew open. Something told her that when he’d decided to deliver the flowers himself, he hadn’t realized that the card he’d written earlier was attached to the bouquet. It hadn’t been in plain sight, or Estelle would have seen it. Since her sharp eyes hadn’t spotted it, it seemed sensible to conclude that neither had Reed’s.

  Val realized that she was thinking of that man by his first name. He had succeeded in burrowing into her psyche deeply enough to make himself a real person to her, a real male person!

  She groaned, got off of the bed and went to her lingerie drawer, where she pulled out the card, stared daggers at it for a moment, then stuck it in the bottom drawer of the dresser, underneath some old sweatpants and tops. That damn card didn’t belong next to her panties, bras or pretty nightgowns. She really should rip it to pieces and toss it in the trash.

  But she didn’t. She returned to the bed, lay down again and did her best not to think of that discomfiting card or of the man who had written it.

  She wasn’t very successful. It had been ages since she’d dwelled on a man’s looks, but in her wild and woolly youth she had always been drawn to men with dark hair. Not too many of them had had green eyes, though. Black hair and green eyes…and a handsome face and a remarkable, trim body and long legs and a terrific smile and…

  “Damn it, that’s enough!” she shouted, glad that she was alone in the house so she could shout. She was not attracted to Reed Kingsley. She wasn’t! He’d just better stay away from her or she was apt to lose her temper and embarrass both of them.

  Besides, there had to be something wrong with a man who didn’t comprehend blatant hints. How rude would she have to be before he finally figured out she wasn’t interested and gave up for good?

  On Friday afternoon Jinni came barreling into Val’s office wearing a new designer outfit and a smile as big as all outdoors. Val got out of her chair and hurried around her desk. They hugged and Jinni delivered a big smooch to her sister’s cheek.

  “It’s so good to see you. Mind you, I didn’t miss you—much—while Max and I were in California. Hardly had time to think of anything but Max, and I guess I shouldn’t apologize for that, should I? Poor Max had Guy on his mind a lot, but I expected that. The Cantrells are terribly torn up over Guy having been arrested for murder, and who can blame them? They all believe he’s completely innocent, you know.

  “Oh, Val, you really must give yourself a treat sometime and go to that resort Max took me to. It’s truly fabulous…as posh as any resort I’ve ever visited. What a honeymoon! Every woman should be so lucky. Val, you look a bit peaked. Are you all right?”

  “Heavens, you can talk fast when you want to. I’m fine, and I don’t want you hovering and worrying because I look peaked, which I don’t.”

  “Oh, really? I think I know if you look peaked or not, and you look peaked. What’ve you been doing, working day and night in this place?”

  “I have not been overdoing it, Jinni. Ask Jim, if you don’t believe me.”

  “All right, I believe you. But you could use a few pounds and some color in those cheeks. And I want a straight answer to one question. Are you still having those weak spells?”

  “Only once in a while. They’re going away, just as the doctor said they would. Sit down and tell me about your honeymoon.”

  “I can’t today. I have a ton of luggage to unpack…we only got home an hour ago. But I promise to tell you everything—” Jinni grinned devilishly “—or almost everything next week. How about lunch on Monday?”

  “Sounds wonderful. At the Rooftop Café? If this weather holds, we could eat outside.”

  “The Rooftop it is. I’ll pick you up around one on Monday. Okay, I must be off. I just had to see you, if only for a minute.”

  The sisters hugged again and Jinni left in a flurry of chatter and expensive perfume. Smiling to herself, very glad that her sister was back in Rumor, Val returned to her desk. Before the wedding, Jinni had told her that the honeymoon was going to be short and sweet; Max was too concerned with Guy’s situation to be away for very long. Val suspected that Jinni and Max were so much in love that their honeymoon would go on for a very long time right here in Rumor, and if there was any true happiness in her system these days, it was all for Jinni.

  Val knew one thing for certain: Jinni could do all the talking during their lunch at the Rooftop Café on Monday. Val would enjoy hearing about California and Jinni’s honeymoon, and she was not going to talk about Reed Kingsley or his peskiness or that silly note. Jinni already knew everything else going on in her life, except for all the phone calls she’d received. Reed was the only controversial subject Val had to talk about, if she was so inclined. Which she wasn’t. She actually shuddered at the thought, as putting Jinni on that scent would only cause relentless torment. Jinni had stated clearly, more than once, that Val had lived a celibate existence for far too many years. Val didn’t want to hear it again, or even worse, discover to her chagrin that her sister had decided to play matchmaker.

  Heaven help her if that should happen, Val thought with another shudder. When Jinni got on the trail of a cause she deemed worthwhile, she moved full steam ahead and got the job done.

  So, no, Val would not be mentioning Reed Kingsley to her sister. Not at lunch on Monday, not ever.

  Reed drove to Billings to have dinner with Derek Moore, Attorney-at-Law, an old college buddy. Derek was in Billings on business and had called Reed early Friday morning.

  “I flew in late last night. I’ll be taking depositions all day and leaving tomorrow morning,” Derek said. “I should be through today by four, possibly five. How about meeting at the Grove around six? We’ll have a drink in the lounge, then dinner.”

  Elated to hear from his old friend, Reed had agreed at once. “The Grove is a good choice. See you there.”

  It would be great to see Derek. They would probably spend the entire evening laughing about old escapades.

  When Reed walked into the Grove’s lounge and spotted his friend among the crowd, Derek got up from the small table he had commandeered. Friday night Happy Hour was in full swing, and the place was packed.

  “Derek!” They shook hands, then gave each other a quick hug. “Man, it’s good seeing you,” Reed exclaimed as they sat down. “Other than a few phone calls, what’s it been, ten years?”

  “Just about.”
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br />   “Well, you’re looking mighty prosperous,” Reed said, eyeing Derek’s custom-tailored suit.

  “I was going to change, but I didn’t have time.” He waved a waiter over. “Name your poison, Reed.”

  After the waiter had gone to get their drinks, Reed looked around. “I haven’t been in here for a while, and I didn’t think about it being Friday night. It’s busy.” He grinned. “And noisy.”

  “We’ll survive. So, how’ve you been? Are you married yet?”

  “Nope. Are you?”

  “For four years now.” Derek pulled out his wallet and flipped it open. “The little girl is Merry, my six-month-old daughter, and the boy is Connor, my three-year-old son.” He flipped to another snapshot. “That’s my wife, Elaine.”

  Something heavy invaded Reed’s system. He spoke quietly, seriously. “You have a beautiful family, Derek.”

  “I sure do.” He looked at his wife’s photo a moment, then closed his wallet and returned it to his inside jacket pocket. “How come you’re still single? Wait, don’t tell me. You’re still changing girls like I change shirts.”

  Reed cleared his throat. “I think I’ve heard something like that said about me before.”

  “But you know I was only kidding, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, so is everyone else. Derek, I think I might have finally met the right woman, but she won’t give me the time of day. I’ve pretty much given up on her.”

  “Don’t.”

  Their drinks were delivered, and after tapping their glasses together, they each took a swallow and set them down.

  “Don’t what?” Reed asked, picking up the thread of their conversation. “Don’t notice that she can’t seem to stand the sight of me?”

  “If I’d given up on Elaine, I’d be the sorriest bag of bones practicing law in the whole darn country,” Derek said. “She was a tough nut to crack, believe me. Independent as hell, full of idealistic notions about her public relations career, haughty as a queen looking down on her subjects and not one bit interested in a lovesick attorney. I came close to giving up on her two or three times, but she was just about all I could think of. I went to sleep at night thinking about her and woke up in the morning the same way. If this gal is anywhere close to that important to you, then don’t even consider calling it quits. Dust off your sense of humor and make her laugh, if nothing else works. Women like guys who make them laugh.”