by Susan Craig
As soon as Diana was dressed he grabbed her hand and bustled her over to Sally’s home.
“Did Sally know what you were up to?”
“Yes. Your friend is a very wise woman.”
He opened the back door and stepped in. “Sally!” he hollered. “She said yes. We don’t have much time.”
Sally and Tyler stepped into the kitchen. He was in a suit, and Sally looked gorgeous in a long apple green gown. She took Diana’s hand and pulled her into the bedroom.
“What’s going on?” Diana’s glance took in Sally’s gown and the three dresses laid out on the bed. All white. All beautiful.
“I’m your Maid of Honor. You did say you’d marry him, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but…”
Sally didn’t let her finish. “He’s gone to a lot of trouble to arrange this. If you don’t want to get married here, in an hour, you’d better tell him right now.”
“But the waiting period.”
“He applied for the license five days ago.”
“He forged my name!”
“No, I forged your name.” Sally looked completely unrepentant. “Do you mind?”
Diana narrowed her eyes. “You cooked the books, and dragged me over here in the wee hours of the morning to fix an error that wasn’t even real.”
“Of course I did. I’m your friend. I love you.”
Diana grinned and pulled Sally into a hard hug. “Bless you. I love you too.”
“So was my criminal career wasted, or are you going to marry this guy?”
Diana took a moment to consider. A thousand thoughts raced through her head… Logan barging into her office nearly a year ago, Logan pulling her out of the car and into his arms on their way back from the Classic, Logan looking idiotically wonderful framed by the office doorway this morning… How could she not marry him? Diana shook her head, bemused. She stared at the bed. “Three dresses?”
Sally shrugged. “He wanted to be sure you had a choice.”
Diana laughed with delight. “This is incredible. It’s insane. The man is an engineer. Where did all this come from?”
“He said he wanted to be sure you knew he was crazy for you.”
Hearing her friend’s words, a warm surge of love filled Diana’s heart and brought tears to her eyes. “I know he’s crazy.” She smiled through the tears. “Which dress was his favorite?”
“Well, one of them is meant to go with this…” Sally held up a sash in Lennox tartan.
Fifty minutes later, Diana was nearly ready. She found her heart was beating at a furious pace. “Sally, I’m nervous.”
“Totally normal, honey. Just relax.”
“No, I mean I am really nervous. My hands are shaking. My knees feel wobbly.” Diana sat down on Sally’s bed. “I feel totally out of control.”
“Okay, deep, calming breaths. Suck it in, hold it, let it out. Do it again… Helping any?”
“Yes, a little,” Diana’s hands were braced on her knees, and her voice was shaky.
“You’re doing fine, honey. It’s a bit of a whirlwind, but I know you can handle it.”
“The doorbell keeps ringing…”
“No problem. Tyler’s in charge of opening the door.”
Diana gave her friend an annoyed look. “But how many people are out there—and who?”
“Well, let’s see.” Sally thought for a moment. “Logan invited the entire Chamber of Commerce, the editor of the Yorktown Crier, the mayor, Mildred from your office, Jim Donovan, his cousin Tammy—she’s standing up for him—and her parents. All the volunteers from the shelter. He asked if you had any family who should be invited—I told him there was no one.”
Diana’s stomach lurched. She took a deep breath and nodded, but then her eyes narrowed. “He was pretty sure of himself, wasn’t he?”
“No, honey, he wasn’t.” Sally spoke quickly, urgently. “He wasn’t at all sure of you. He set this up deliberately to make himself the laughingstock of York if you turned him down. He told me you’d understand it was a risk he’d never take for anyone but you.”
“He set himself up?” Diana’s heart swelled.
Sally nodded. “Big time.”
“To be the laughingstock of York…” Shaking her head in amazement, Diana stood. “Can you help me with this sash?”
“I will. And this is for you to carry…” Sally handed her a long-stemmed red rose. “And here’s a ring for Logan.”
Diana accepted the heavy band and looked inside.
“Don’t worry. We left the engraving off so you could choose it later.”
“Sally, he couldn’t have done this without you. How did he get you to agree to help?” Diana stuck the ring on her left thumb.
“You look beautiful, honey.” Sally gave her a quick hug. “He let me see how much he truly loved you… I already knew how much you loved him.” Sally grabbed a tissue and blotted her eyes. “I’ve gotta go get in place. Logan will come get you in a minute.”
Diana smiled at the two dresses still spread on Sally’s bed. He wanted me to have a choice. She shook her head. A gentle knock sounded at the door.
Logan. Opening the door, Diana saw him, resplendent in a white tuxedo shirt and knee-length socks, with black tie and shoes, and his kilt of Carmichael tartan. He gazed at her, love filling his eyes.
She swallowed around the lump in her throat. Mine…now and forever. Her heart swelled with love. Uncertain what to do next, she smoothed the tartan sash on her slim, wide-necked gown. Smiling into her eyes, Logan pulled a diamond ring from his pocket and raised his eyebrows.
When she nodded, he stepped toward her and slipped it on her hand. “I’d say, ‘Here’s my heart,’ but you’ve had that for a long while already.”
She smiled and, slipping into his arms, breathed in the scent of warm, clean male. He grinned and gave her a quick kiss. “I will treasure you all my life, Diana. Where would you like to go afterwards… the farmhouse? the condo?”
She pulled her head back in astonishment. “What, no surprise honeymoon?”
He smiled ruefully and shook his head. “Couldn’t do that. One weekend, I knew you could manage without advance notice. But mine isn’t the only career in this family. I wasn’t going to scramble your work schedule without your permission. So, no. No surprise honeymoon… But just say the word and I’ll cancel my appointments for the next week…”
He kissed her. “…two weeks…”
He kissed her harder. “… month…”
His tongue swept sweetly through her mouth. “… or year and run away with you wherever you want to go.”
He held her at arm’s length. “I do have a suite reserved at the Homestead Inn, if you’d like to go there. You know, the first night we went there, I was hoping to share a room with you. But that didn’t work out.”
She laughed at the eager look in his eyes. “You might get lucky tonight, Logan.”
“I’m already lucky.” He bent toward her and kissed her again—long and slow and sweet. His eyes were dark and hot when he broke away. “I have a feeling this wedding party is going to last much, much too long.”
A Celtic ballad began to play softly in the background. Logan stole one more kiss, and then tucked her arm in his. Together, they walked toward the living room.
As they turned into the entryway, Diana’s smile widened. The furnishings had been moved to make room for seating guests, and the perimeter bloomed with vase upon vase of flowers in all the colors and scents of spring. An aisle opened before them to where Sally, in green and Tammy, in midnight blue, stood flanking George Douglas, mayor of York and officiant for the ceremony.
Logan paused on the threshold to wrap his arm around Diana’s waist and murmur in her ear. “Are you sure?” She heard him swallow hard. “We can wait, if you like.”
He’s done all this, but he’s offering to wait. She looked into his eyes. “And make the man I love the laughingstock of York? No way! Marry me, Dr. Carmichael… Now.”
Dear R
eader,
I hope you enjoyed Diana and Logan’s story. Many of my fans have asked if there is anything going on between Diana’s friend Sally and Jim, the shelter’s vet.
To be honest, Jim Donovan has the patience of a saint—and he needs it to put up with Sally. The stubborn widowed mom is being stalked, but she refuses to admit the danger. She needs Jim’s love, but refuses to risk her heart. And she plans to quiet the raging hormones Jim arouses in her by going after his business partner.
It’s all a bit much. After all, how saint like can an ex black ops marine be? And what will happen when Sally and the stalker push Jim to the breaking point?
Find out in Toss Up, book two of the Toss Trilogy. Turn the page to take a peek.
Toss Up
CHAPTER ONE
Autumn sunlight struck flung bits of straw, turning them into gold as the chestnut yearling reared, striking out with flailing hooves. Jameson Donovan slipped aside, letting the nylon lunge line slide through his hands, then stepped forward as the nervous colt settled all four feet on the smooth cement floor.
“Take it easy, now.” Jim gripped the horse’s halter, using his triceps to exert a steady downward pressure on the colt’s head, allowing movement, but not the free toss that would permit another attempt at rearing. Nervousness caused a thin sheen of sweat on the chestnut’s neck, and Jim stroked it away, soothing with the touch of his hand and gentle murmurs, giving the colt time to recognize and accept both mastery and gentleness.
“That’s right, boy.”
“I’ll steady him for you.” Hector Sanderson moved up, his gnarled hand taking a firm grip on the halter, as Jim bent to examine the horse’s foreleg. If everything checked out, the colt would return to pasture with the other yearlings. He ran practiced hands over the leg, testing tendons and bone.
“No tenderness, no heat. He looks sound, Hector.” Jim straightened and stroked the solid withers, appreciating smooth coat over supple muscle, feeling in tune with the warmth of life under his hand. He drew in the mix of scents that said stable—horse, hay, and an underlying thread of something earthier. “He’s good to go.”
“Glad to hear it, Doc. Thanks for stopping by.”
Jim nodded at the older man and glanced at the lengthening shadows near the open stable door. Hector’s place had been the last stop in a high-mileage day. “Happy to do it, Hector.” With a wave of his hand, Jim crossed to the RAM four by four parked in the stable yard. He opened the lid of a Porta-Vet storage unit snugged just behind the cab and dropped in his examination kit. Time to head back to the loft for some food, a beer, and maybe there’d be a game on television worth watching. With a quick turn of the key the truck’s engine roared to life, and Jim pointed the RAM towards town.
Approaching a fork in the road, his mind moved to Sally. Thinking of her, warmth crawled under his skin. The left fork would take him a bit further around, leading through fields and hills until just outside of town. If he swung right he’d pass the animal shelter, and Sally’s house. He could stop by on his way home, invite Sal and her son to get a bite to eat with him. Maybe she was finally over Trent…
Yeah, right, that’s likely. You stupid sap.
Jim ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. Why did he do this to himself? Deciding to be the young widow’s friend was without a doubt the stupidest thing he’d ever done. Just being in the same room with her made his teeth ache with want.
If he was smart, he’d give it up and stay away. Swing left. Tools in the Porta-Vet rattled as the truck hit a depression in the well-worn road. Who was he kidding?
He knew he would stop by.
Standing in the doorway of the animal shelter, Sally Johnston, manager of Man’s Best Friend, watched Gretchen Maxwell slide her daughter’s wheelchair into the trunk, then waved goodbye as the car pulled away. She smiled as she saw the little girl’s arm slide around the neck of a shaggy-coated dog sitting beside her on the back seat.
“Hey, Sal, that’s a fine match.”
Turning, Sally saw Ramon Hernandez, one of the college volunteers. “Yeah, I think so too. You know, one of the best things about working here is finding just the right dog for a family to adopt. I’ll miss Dusty though. He’s a sweetheart.”
Ramon smiled at her. “You miss them all when they go.”
“I know.”
Sally shrugged, glancing at the clock behind the reception counter. “Time to close up.” She looked at Ramon. “You can take off, if you like. I’m good.”
“Thanks, I think I will.” He walked toward his car, the only one remaining. “See you.”
Sally waved a hand in reply, then stepped behind the counter and shut down her computer. There were still dogs to bring in from the outdoor paddock. She grabbed a jacket and headed out the back door of the converted ranch-style home.
Across the meadow sat her house, on property abutting the shelter’s land. Light streamed from the kitchen window. She laughed to herself and shook her head. The lights were probably on in the hallway, her son’s room and the bathroom, too—Tyler favored the abundant use of electricity. Typical boy.
Turning back to the paddock gate, she called the dogs into the common run leading to the kennel wing, where she returned each to his own pen and began closing down for the night. The volunteers had given each of the shelter’s tenants fresh water, but this last group still needed to be fed. By the time she finished distributing kibble, shadows stretched long across the yard. Rolling the portable food bin back into place, she used her foot to flip the locks on the rear wheels, and leaned against the windowsill to watch the pale October sun set.
When the last ray of light had vanished, she straightened. Quiet melancholy filled her heart…a comfortable sadness, appropriate for a fading autumn day with winter already in sight. Content, she turned back toward the unlit office at the far end of the wing.
A soft, unexpected sound came from the empty room.
Sally froze. Her hand reached to touch the wall, steadying her, and she moved forward in the darkness, one cautious step at a time, listening.
Music…So soft she had to strain to identify it. So unexpected that recognition fisted her stomach and stopped her in place, with a hand on her heart. She’d thought she was alone. Cautious, but not yet afraid, she went on toward the soft, mournful wail of a solitary bagpipe. If a friend had come, why sit in the dark? Her fingertips groped for the wall plate, still a few steps ahead. Reaching it, she took a tight breath, then flooded the office with light.
Nothing moved. The empty lobby stared back at her, its windows black.
The funeral dirge continued, coming from her computer—the computer she’d shut down before bringing the dogs in for their food.
Heart pounding and poised to flee if the need arose, she checked the area, peering down the back hallway and looking behind and beneath the counter enclosing the reception desk. She saw no one. The computer monitor blinked. Placing an unsteady hand on the edge of the desk, she lowered herself into a chair to read the words that appeared like the dull ache of happiness lost, then dissolved into darkness: Semper fi.
Sally stared at the screen, the knife-edge of pain in her chest holding her motionless.
Trent.
As her eyes watched the words appear and fade on the screen, she remembered his hard, handsome face, the diamond black eyes, and rough shadow of beard on his jaw. The pain of loss, which had dimmed over the years, hit her with fresh force, resurrected by the music and the words. Tears ran unheeded down her cheeks.
Who would do this? Who would be so cruel?
The headlights of Jim’s truck bounced off Sally’s neat, brick house. Tyler must be home; light shone from every window. Pulling into the driveway, Jim shook his head and straightened his shoulders, running a hand over his hair. Here he was again.
Stupid sap.
Looking across the meadow adjoining Sally’s house, Jim saw the shadowy outline of the animal shelter and the pine-covered ridge beyond. A beautiful crescent moon
rose behind the trees. A light flicked on in the darkened shelter, catching his attention. Curious, he left the truck in the driveway and strode across the meadow in the crisp twilight.
What was going on? Sally should be home already; the shelter had been closed for almost an hour. Maybe she had a sick animal on her hands. Glad that, as vet-on-call, he had keys to the place, he unlocked the outer door and turned to walk along the entryway to the shelter itself.
With a crash that rattled the glass in its upper half, the door to the shelter lobby banged open.
What the hell?
Sally flew down the entry way toward him, her beautiful face so contorted with grief he barely recognized her. “Jim. Thank God it’s you.”
She threw herself against his chest, and his head reared back even as his arms moved automatically to hold her close. Then he took her by the shoulders and stepped back to look at her in astonishment, shocked by the pain and tears on her face. In all the years he’d known her, he’d never seen her cry.
Now she sobbed, and her face was deathly pale. Fear for her struck his heart like a blade of ice. “Sally! What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
She shook her head, struggling to speak as her face crumpled again. “Trent… Trent…”
He stared at her for a second, then pulled her tightly into his arms and held her close. What on earth had happened? His heart rate, which had accelerated when the door crashed open, slowed, but didn’t return to normal. Not with her in his arms. With a gentle touch, he stroked her hair, murmuring comfort and breathing in her scent—a heady mixture of dog, lilac and woman. He drank in the feel of her, the way she clung, needing him, at least for these few minutes.
It was just his luck. The woman who haunted his dreams was wrapped in his arms, and she was crying for another man.
Toss Up is available on Amazon.com.
