Prairie Fever

by Tessa Layne

  Gunnar.

  Although it could have been any number of townspeople who’d been in the clinic since it opened, and seen that there was no rhyme or reason to the waiting room. She’d finally taken to putting a sign-up sheet on the counter, and taken patients the old-fashioned way.

  Gloria turned on the computer.

  “I’m not sure–”

  “There’s a bunch of us in the Posse that got together and set up a volunteer schedule. Mondays are my days.” Gloria positively beamed. “You’ll have me until four every Monday, Nita Cruz is taking Tuesdays, and Bobbie Appleberry, Wednesdays. I can’t remember who took Thursdays and Fridays, you’ll have to ask Dottie the next time you’re in the diner.”

  “The Posse?” she said faintly, still trying to process that she was going to have help running the clinic.

  Gloria gave her a knowing smile. “We older womenfolk still like to have fun, and we’ve convinced some of the younger women in town to join us. Mostly it’s bunko nights and cocktails. But we read books, too. Some of us have grandchildren.”

  “And the rest of you want them?” Suzannah supplied.

  “Oh my heavens, no,” tittered Gloria. “I’m not that old. My boys are barely out of high school. I’m enjoying my empty nest.” She blushed bright pink.

  Suzannah bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Well, this is wonderful. Do you have any computer experience?”

  Gloria gave a regretful shake of her head. “I can use basic office programs like Word and Excel, but mostly I email. I’m the organist at the Lutheran church, and I teach piano.”

  Damn. What she needed more than anything was someone to set up the electronic filing and scheduling system. Someone in her interview had mentioned they’d purchased one, but she didn’t have a clue about it. She made a note to ask Gunnar about it the next time he came for dinner. “Well, that’s okay. I’m glad you’re here.” She came to the other side of the counter. “There are intake forms on those clipboards to your left.” She pointed to the stack she’d set up the night before. “And I’ve just been going off a simple sign-up sheet for drop-ins.”

  “Do you have anyone scheduled yet?”

  Heat crawled up Suzannah’s neck. She hated coming across as disorganized, but there was enough work at the clinic for four people. At least. It was impossible for one person to keep up with it all. She shook her head. “To quote Star Trek, I’m a doctor, not a software wizard.”

  “Never fear. The ladies and I will get things running smoothly in no time.”

  Suzannah’s heart warmed. “You have no idea how much this means to me. Do you know anyone who’s good at billing? Dealing with the insurance companies has about killed me.”

  Gloria’s face scrunched up as she thought. “Hmm. You know, Elaine Kincaid is a whiz with numbers. She used to do Dottie’s books, and now she helps her husband Travis with the books out at Resolution Ranch. She just had a baby, though.”

  Too bad. Help with the books would be a godsend. “Let me know if you think of anyone. I’d sure appreciate it.”

  The day passed all too quickly with visits for physicals, strep, plantar warts, and even a broken toe. At four p.m. sharp, Gloria knocked on Suzannah’s office door. “Can you manage from here? I’ve got to get home and get dinner ready for my crew.”

  Suzannah stood and offered her hand. “Gloria, thank you so much. Having you here today was a huge help.”

  Gloria pulled her into a hug. “We hug around here. At least the ladies do. I hope that’s okay.”

  She returned the hug, albeit a bit clumsily. Then immediately second-guessed herself. Her mother’s voice rang in her head – We don’t hug the help. But Gloria wasn’t the help. Gloria was a neighbor, and a volunteer. And besides, when was the last time she’d been hugged by anyone besides Lulah? When Iris had been in town, but that was going on nearly three weeks. She’d love to be hugged by Gunnar. Heck, she’d love to be all sorts of touched by Gunnar, but no. The sexy as sin cowboy was strictly off-limits. Even if he set up her coffee pot every evening, and cleaned up the dishes. And stocked her fridge with groceries and fresh produce from his family’s garden, and cooked dinner, and, and… The shoe was going to drop, eventually. Wasn’t it? No man in his right mind would want to keep caring for her in that way.

  Gloria stepped back, eyes searching her face as if she could see every thought. “You okay, honey?”

  Her stock answer popped out. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” But something niggled at Suzannah underneath her breastbone. She got the feeling Gloria asked the question out of concern, and wasn’t just making small talk. Gloria seemed genuine. Like she cared about the people who were part of her daily life. With the exception of her two best friends, Iris and Bailey, Suzannah’s life had been filled with society types that played by different rules. She’d grown up in a world where people used information and feelings as weapons. Who offered platitudes instead of compassion. The unspoken question poked insistently at her. She bit her lip, mustering her courage. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Do you mind if I sit? You sound like you need to talk.”

  Suzannah shrugged and offered Gloria a chair, then sank into the chair next to her. “Can I ask you about Gunnar?”

  Gloria’s eyes lit, then crinkled at the corners as a smile spread across her face. “I’ve known Gunnar since he was kicking inside Martha’s belly.”

  The visual brought a smile to Suzannah’s face. “Really?”

  Gloria nodded. “Martha and I lived on the same floor in the dorms at K-State, freshman year. She introduced me to my husband, Patrick. I grew up outside of Kansas City and had come to K-State to major in music and theater. Patrick swept me off my feet, and the rest they say is history. So.” She propped her chin on her knuckles. “Ask me anything.”

  This all felt so junior high. But if Gloria had seen Gunnar grow up, then she could be trusted to tell the truth about Gunnar’s personality, couldn’t she? But where to start? And how to ask a question without coming across as too nosy, or too interested?”

  “So is he… ah… Is he a good guy?” she finally blurted.

  “The best,” Gloria answered without so much as a pause. “Martha raised her boys right. Of course, they had their wild days when they were younger, but you’ll not find a pair of men who will drop what they’re doing faster than anything to give you a hand. And their sister, Hope? Lovely.”

  Relief washed through Suzannah. “So he doesn’t…”

  “Cat about? Not at all. Now the Benoit twins. They like the ladies. But Gunnar?” Gloria’s eyes softened. “He’s a catch. And a role model for my boys. If I’d had daughters…” Her eyes grew wistful, before she brushed her hands together. “Well, if wishes were horses.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “Something happened between you two a while back, didn’t it?”

  Suzannah nodded slowly fighting a smile. “You could say that.”

  Gloria stood, and straightened her skirt. “Well, I hope you kids manage to work it out. If I can help you in any way…” She waggled her eyebrows. “You know I’m more than happy to.”

  “Thank you.” Suzannah stood. “I appreciate that. And thanks again for your help today. I appreciate it more than you know.”

  Suzannah’s heart took off at a gallop when she arrived home with Lulah to find Gunnar waiting on the porch steps twirling his hat in his hands. The almost bashful smile he aimed her direction turned her insides warm and made her knees the tiniest bit wobbly. “Hi,” she breathed, stopping in front of him. “Fancy seeing you here.” It wasn’t really much of a surprise, he’d been patiently waiting on her porch steps every weeknight over the last two weeks, usually with dinner or groceries in hand. The first night he’d showed up after their truce with a full roast chicken dinner. Her mouth had watered too much to send him away, and she was grateful to not have to cook. Cooking ranked at the very bottom of activities she enjoyed. She’d been stunned, when on the second night, he’d not only shown up with groceries, but had insisted on makin
g dinner. A garden salad and pork chops had never tasted so delicious. Gloria’s words rang in her head, Martha raised her boys right. He’s a catch. She was beginning to understand why.

  Suzannah supposed at some point they’d have to discuss introducing Lulah to his family, but the thought still turned her veins to ice. How would they feel about a baby born out of wedlock? And who was now nearly four? With a heart condition? Her own parents had never come to visit Lulah in the hospital. Not once. Never even sent birthday cards. As soon as it had been evident that she had decided to live life on her own terms and not the life they’d meticulously planned for her, she’d been disowned. Literally. Cut off from her trust fund and shunned from family functions. Not that she missed the family functions – they’d been miserable affairs at best. And the modest inheritance she’d received from her grandmother had been gobbled up by a mountain of medical bills. She’d planned to use those funds to pay off medical school loans, but with that money gone, she’d ended up in family practice instead of orthopedic surgery.

  “I thought maybe you’d enjoy dinner out.” His eyes softened to an unspoken plea when they landed on Lulah. “Gino’s has Monday night spaghetti and meatball specials.”

  Lulah clapped her hands, bouncing. “Pasketti! Mama, I want Pasketti. Please?” Her eyes turned up with the exact pleading expression of Gunnar’s.

  She burst out laughing. They were two peas in a pod, and there would be no doubt if they went out in public that Lulah belonged to Gunnar. The resemblance was clear as day. “Tell me the truth, you’re tired of cooking, and you can’t stomach my food.”

  Gunnar’s eyes crinkled. “You know I’m always happy to eat your food,” he deadpanned. “I’d never turn up my nose at a home-cooked meal.”

  “Then let me cook tonight.”

  “I’d rather take you to Gino’s.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Gunnar’s gaze turned serious. “Sure as shootin’.”

  “Won’t people talk?” She was half-convinced Addy already knew, or at the very least, suspected. The last few times Lulah and Dylan had played together, Addy looked at her like she knew.

  “They’re already talking, sweetheart.”

  “But what if someone says something?” She jerked her head at Lulah.

  “Not worried.”

  She crossed her arms. “But why now?”

  Gunnar’s cheeks pulled tight, a look of determination settling on his face. He looked so much like Lulah about to have a tantrum, she nearly laughed out loud. He spoke quietly, but with conviction. “Maybe I want to take… a friend,” he gave her a significant look. A look that said he was interested in far more than friendship. “and her very charming daughter out for a nice dinner.”

  She couldn’t deny the reaction that raced through her body at his look. But she still wasn’t buying it. “So, is this a date?”

  “I’ll let you decide that.” He slid his finger down Lulah’s nose, sending her into peals of giggles.

  “Do that again,” she squealed.

  He did, with a smile that arrowed straight into Suzannah’s soul. Holding him at arm’s length seemed to grow harder with each passing day. She let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. Let me go change. Lulah, why don’t you show Gunnar your work from today?” She handed Lulah the small stack of papers that Ms. Ivy had given her when she’d arrived to bring Lulah home from preschool. Before she lost her nerve, she brushed past Gunnar who’d made room on the steps for Lulah to join him, and entered the house.

  When was the last time she went on anything remotely like a date? And what did one wear on a date in Prairie? People didn’t dress up here. That had become perfectly clear the night of her welcome reception. She’d worn wool slacks, and everyone else had worn denim. She only had one pair of jeans, for yard work. In the back of her closet hung a strappy sundress that Iris insisted she bring. Pale pink with flowers, it flowed to her knees, and was perfect for the warm, humid evening. It was the kind of dress that would shout from the rooftops ‘this is a date’. Even with an almost-four-year-old in tow. But if people were already talking… and once they saw Lulah and Gunnar together, the rumor mill would kick into high gear.

  Tossing her scrubs in the hamper, she slipped the silky material over her head, a little charge of anticipation winding through her. She spritzed on her favorite perfume and slid a pale gloss over her lips. Last, she pulled out her ponytail and looped her hair into a messy bun. That would have to do. Sliding into a pair of leather sandals, she grabbed her wallet and locked up the house. Everyone had told her she didn’t need to bother, but locking up was one habit she’d never give up. Behind her, Gunnar’s and Lulah’s voices mingled with shared laughter. “Ready,” she called out and turned around.

  Gunnar stopped speaking mid-sentence to stare, eyes roving slowly over her figure. She swore his eyes left a trail of heat down her body. Only when Lulah tugged on his hand, did he drop his gaze. “Tell your mama how pretty she looks, punkin’.” His voice held a hint of gravel.

  “Mama you’re bootiful,” she said with a grin, looking just like her father.

  “Thank you, both. Shall we walk or drive?”

  “It’s only about a fifteen-minute walk. I haven’t installed the car seat yet,” he tacked on.

  The admission that he hadn’t yet taken that step, stung. So for all his talk, he wasn’t ready to take on parenting duties. She bit back a sigh. Baby steps. “Not ready yet?” She spoke lightly, but hurt simmered underneath the surface.

  He looked at her sharply. “I’m more than ready. Maddie helped me buy one. She’s the only one who knows about our situation. And don’t worry, she won’t say anything until I give her the okay. But I wanted to talk with you before I spoke with the rest of my family. As soon as they see me with a car seat, it’s game over. The whole town will know in less than ten minutes.”

  “Oh.” Now she felt like an ass. His logic made perfect sense. “I appreciate you wanting to, er, discuss things first.”

  “After you’ve put Lulah to bed?”

  “Is that why you wanted to take us out for meatballs?” she teased. “To butter me up?”

  He gave her an answering grin before swinging Lulah up onto his shoulders. “Maybe?” He turned serious. “And maybe you deserve a nice dinner out for a change.”

  Double oh.

  Double oh became a triple oh, when they entered Gino’s Trattoria and Mario, Gino’s son who now ran the place, and was easily in his seventies, looked from Lulah to Gunnar and back again, and then at her, understanding dawning on his face. Yep, the cat was now officially out of the bag. But whatever Mario thought, he was the perfect host, and doted on Lulah as if she was his grandchild. Suzannah pushed her chair back from the table. “I’m so stuffed, I may never eat again.”

  “I know for a fact, you’re going to have the leftovers for breakfast.”

  “No way. I can hold out at least until lunch.”

  “I may have to drive over after chores first thing tomorrow, and show you how to make a proper Gino’s leftover breakfast.”

  The offer hit her in the belly, making her insides turn liquid. Heat flared in his eyes, and suddenly the air in the tiny restaurant felt too close, too intimate. So she stood. “Thank you for dinner.”

  She stayed quiet the walk home, only half paying attention to the running conversation Lulah and Gunnar were having about Batman flying over the zoo and what kinds of zoo animals Batman liked to help fly. She was so distracted, she let Gunnar read Lulah two books after teeth were brushed. By the time she and Lulah had completed their nighttime ritual of songs and stars, Suzannah could hardly focus. All she could focus on was the smoldering look Gunnar had given her at Gino’s, and how it had gone straight to her core.

  The last rays of the sun were lighting everything in gold as she stepped onto the porch, pulse thrumming. Gunnar lounged on the swing, arm slung across the back, muscles pulling his plaid shirt tight, legs bunching under smooth denim. Her mouth began to water. Positively edib
le. “Have a swing?” He motioned to the space next to him.

  Problem was, he took up more than half the swing. If she sat, there was no putting space between them. He’d be right there. The thought simultaneously set her body tingling and panic running through her. No hanky-panky. No. Hanky. Panky. Kissing him would only lead to more kissing, and more kissing would lead to clothing being discarded and the next thing she knew, she’d be fucking this gorgeous cowboy on her front porch, in front of God and everyone else who happened to wander by. Nope. No, no, no.

  The words were on her tongue, but dammit if her feet didn’t start moving, and the next thing she knew, she was snuggled up next to him, thigh to thigh, rib to rib, his hand making lazy circles on her exposed shoulder, and her clit throbbing madly, begging for attention. How in Haley’s Comet, was she supposed to focus on a serious conversation with that next to her? His head dropped closer, and he nuzzled her ear, warm breath sending goosebumps cascading down her neck. “’Zannah,” he murmured, voice low and husky.

  She always melted when he said her name that way. It was like she turned into some kind of zombie when his voice slid over her body like whiskey caramel sauce. She didn’t trust herself to talk. She’d give away every lascivious thought that was coursing through her mind right now. Every unspoken desire. “Mmm-hmm?” was the best she could do.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Mmm-hmm?” He needed to stop nuzzling her neck and sending electric shocks from her nipples to her pussy, or there wouldn’t be any talking.

  “We have to talk.” His tongue flicked out to the sensitive spot behind her ear. “Tonight.” Then he nipped her earlobe.

  “Yessss,” she hissed, voice paralyzed.

  “But I’m having a hard time concentrating.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” She couldn’t manage more.

  “You look so beautiful.”

  Her heart flipped like the twisty coaster at Worlds of Fun.

  “And I’m wondering if you’ll let me kiss you.” His mouth landed at the corner of her jaw, the merest feather of a kiss.