by Kay Lyons
“You vent anytime. Better out than in, you know that. Besides, taking your frustration out on a plastic container is a lot better than taking it out on a person like some people do.”
Smiling at the truth of his statement, Melissa wrapped her arms around him and gave him a big hug. “I know,” she said, resting her head against his chest with a sigh. The steady beat of his heart soothed her frazzled nerves; the scent of him calmed. Her dad was the one person who’d never let her down.
“You sure you’re okay?”
She nodded again. “Yeah. But thanks for listening. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He squeezed her tight. “You’d do fine, Mel. You’d do just fine.”
* * *
I HAVE AN IDEA.”
Bryan held the phone to his ear and leaned his head back against the desk chair. “Hey, Ellen. Shouldn’t you be at the barbecue setting things up?”
“I’m on my way now,” she informed him, “but I had to talk to you. There’s no time to waste.”
“Sounds urgent. What’s up?”
“I know the perfect woman to be your office manager.”
“Who?” Bryan sat forward, Ellen’s excitement rubbing off on him. As a caseworker for the county, Ellen knew a lot of people wanting to better themselves, find work. Had she thought of one of them?
“Well, you know the, um, police chief?”
Bryan stilled, his racing thoughts skidding to a stop. “Hal York has a job,” he murmured, deliberately misinterpreting and not commenting on the fact that he knew Hal York, mainly because the man parked his police cruiser behind his practice—and Ellen’s home—about every night.
“I meant his daughter. Do you know Melissa?”
Bryan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, I know her,” he murmured, his mind locking on an image of Melissa York, her bald, turban-wrapped head bent, her shoulders shaking while she sobbed after learning the truth of her infant daughter’s death. He stood and paced around his desk. No way could he hire Melissa. “Does this mean you’re ready to ’fess up and admit you and Chief York are an item?”
“Will it help? Hal loves me, but his daughter comes first. At least until she can focus on something else and stand on her own two feet.”
Unease tightened his stomach. “Ellen—”
“You need help,” she said, her voice taking on a pleading quality.
“I can’t hire Melissa York.” She hadn’t talked to him after that day at her house. A glance here and there when they happened to meet up in town, a shaky smile before she quickly averted her eyes. He thought he’d done a good thing by telling her the baby she’d buried not long after birth hadn’t been shaken to death, but instead his research into the incident had left Melissa blaming herself.
“Why not? She’s perfect!”
Pulled from his thoughts, Bryan asked the obvious question. “Have you discussed this with her?”
“Bryan, she needs a job to get back on her feet, and it’s always best to hire someone hungry for work. They make better employees, something you could use right now.”
“I take it that means no?”
Ellen paused long enough for a healthy dose of guilt to settle in. He’d caused Melissa pain, however unintentionally, and she obviously felt awkward around him now. Way different than when they were little kids spending their summers playing together on the street corner downtown while her dad and his grandfather worked. But that was a long time ago, and Melissa wouldn’t want to work for him any more than he wanted her to.
“Bryan, please? Will you give her a chance? For me?”
He hedged, trying desperately to think of a way out. “What does she know about running an office?”
“I know she’s a smart, capable young woman who used to work as a teacher’s aid while taking night classes at college. Hal said she loved her job, loved being busy. An office would be a breeze for her. And, Bryan—” her voice lowered “—Hal also told me that she used to handle the fund-raisers for the station. I feel badly when I think of that. I wouldn’t have taken over the Christmas toy drive if I’d known. Especially since…”
“Since what?”
A weary sigh came over the line. “Well, Hal’s asked to marry me—”
“Congratulations.”
“—but I don’t want our marriage to begin with tension between us. Which means we can’t get married until Melissa is able to support herself again. She’s put in applications all around, but she’s had trouble getting hired because of…well, I think too many people know her medical history.”
Yet something else for him to consider. Bryan fought his frustration. He hated being put on the spot like this. “You mean her cancer.”
“Bryan, please. Put yourself in her shoes. She’s ready and able to work and no one will let her try. You’d be helping all of us, most especially yourself, because you’d have someone who actually wants to work instead of spending her days flirting with you.”
He eyed the mess on the desk then thought about the reception area, her words pulling at his conscience. “It’s not a good idea.”
“Why not? How many credible applicants have responded to your ad? You know very well there would be more, but a lot of husbands don’t want their wives working with you because of your reputation. Janice is an exception and if her husband didn’t have the utmost faith in her and their marriage, she wouldn’t be there even at her age. And do you really want to deal with Sierra’s temps week after week? Bryan, you need help and Melissa is a viable solution.”
True or not, he wasn’t about to be sucked in by Ellen’s argument.
“Think of it this way. You’re not going to find the right woman when you’re so busy shaking the wrong ones out of your bed and working overtime. Hire Melissa,” she ordered. “Do something good for her and for yourself.”
“And you?” Silence met his words. He paced the room, swearing beneath his breath but knowing Ellen had him. If nothing else he owed Melissa for the hurt he’d caused her, and for the time they’d spent playing together as kids. He also owed Ellen for all the meals she’d provided as a neighbor. “Fine. I’ll do it.” A squeal erupted over the line and Bryan held the receiver away from his head, a rueful grin tugging at his lips.
When the squealing stopped, he hesitantly brought the phone back to his ear. “I’ll give her an interview. We’ll see how things go from there. She won’t want to work for me, and when this doesn’t work out, you’re back to square one and I’m off the hook. Got it?”
“Oh, Bryan! You’re the best! No wonder you’ve won so many of the awards in the Tribune.”
He winced at the reminder. “Ellen, a piece of advice—don’t ever bring up the newspaper’s moronic contest.”
Happy laughter came over the line. “You make it sound like being a small-town hunk isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Ellen.”
She laughed again. “I’ll see you at the barbecue. Melissa will be there and you can talk to her then.”
“Tonight? But—”
“Bye!”
Bryan rubbed his eye with the flat of his palm and replaced the receiver onto the base with a mutter.
Women. What had he gotten himself into now?
Chapter 2
MELISSA PAUSED long enough for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior of the police station before making her way past the paper-cluttered desks and down the hall. Outside the small kitchenette, she skidded to an abrupt stop and clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her choked gasp.
She flattened herself against the wall out of sight, her shell-shocked brain struggling to process what she’d seen. No matter how many times she blinked, it was still there. Her father and the social worker. Their passionate embrace. Did he have his…tongue down her throat? Blood rushed past her ears in frantic gushes.
“Did I tell you how much I missed you last night?” Ellen asked huskily.
Melissa didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but her legs wouldn’t move. They
were locked at the knees to keep her upright. Nathan Turner might be the station’s official grill master and quite good at the job, but no way on God’s green earth would she step foot into that kitchen to get the spatula he’d sent her after.
“I couldn’t stay any longer. Melissa’s having a hard time of it and I hate to leave her alone so much. Just today she said she didn’t know what she’d do without me.”
Her father discussed her with that woman?
Closing her eyes, Melissa moaned softly. How could she not have realized what was going on? The late hours her dad had started working to catch up, the way he’d begun taking more care with his appearance. And the lipstick stain she’d dismissed as an itch?
Is that why he’d stopped the swinging door? To keep her from seeing his…his girlfriend on the other side in some state of—
She blinked, unable to imagine her father messing around in the living room in broad daylight and yet able to imagine it all too well after what she’d just seen. Why hadn’t he said anything?
The sounds of more kissing ensued, and she wrinkled her nose, distinctly nauseous. No matter their age, no child wanted to see her parent in an openly sexual embrace. It was too…eww.
“Oh, Hal, I want to tell people and show them the beautiful ring you’ve given me. Please, promise me you’ll talk to Melissa soon.”
She straightened. What ring?
“I should’ve made your proposal more romantic, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I can’t wait to wake up beside you every morning, Ellie. Kiss you every night. It won’t always be like it is now.”
“No, it’s fine. It was beautiful!” The woman sniffled softly. “And I understand. Melissa’s in such limbo you can’t leave her yet, but maybe that’ll change soon.”
She had been upset lately over not being able to find a job, but she hadn’t come across that pathetically…had she?
A gusty sigh left her dad. “I hope so. I don’t want to wait, but we have to. Just a little while longer,” he promised. “Then we can start the next part of our lives and figure out what we’re going to do in our old age.”
Melissa swallowed the lump in her throat and unclenched her hands, her short nails leaving crescent moons embedded in her palms. Without considering the consequences but knowing she had to do—say—something, she stepped into the doorway and cleared her throat.
Her father jerked away from Ellen and clasped his hands behind his back. “Mel?”
“Sorry to interrupt, but I had to come tell you my news.”
“News?”
She didn’t look at Ellen Morton. “I’ve got a lead on a job.” She laughed, but instead of happy and joyous, the sound came out high-pitched and strained, her smile nearly impossible to maintain. “Isn’t that great?”
“A job with whom?” her father demanded.
Floundering, Melissa opened her mouth, her brain scrambling for a response. “Uh…”
“Me,” a deep masculine voice answered from behind her.
Melissa whirled around, inordinately grateful her back was to her father when she realized Bryan Booker had come to her rescue. She stared at him in shock, her reeling senses in a time-stilled blur.
“’Evening, Chief. Ellen.” Bryan dipped his head in greeting. “Melissa,” he murmured, his steady gaze meeting hers and holding for a long moment.
What are you doing? She mouthed the question while sending him a suspicious glare, but other than a discreet wink, the handsome physician didn’t respond.
Why would he say he’d offered her a job? Given their history, she couldn’t help but think it was because Bryan felt sorry for her.
Her father cleared his throat, a sure indication that he was working up a lecture and fast losing patience, and even though she’d like nothing better than to pull Dr. Booker aside and demand to know what was going on, two seconds later she found herself nodding her agreement that she had agreed to interview for the position of Bryan’s office manager.
“That’s certainly news. Ellen, if you and the doc don’t mind, I’d like to speak to Melissa alone. We have some things we need to discuss.”
“Dad, now’s not—”
“Of course, Hal.”
So much for putting him off. Was her dad going to question her about the job offer or what she’d seen? Melissa gulped back a nervous laugh and worked up her nerve to step into the room. She had to get away from Bryan’s cologne. The woodsy, citrus scent teased her nose and caused an instant spike of awareness.
She moved to the window and tried to gather her scattered wits, pulling a childhood memory of Bryan from her mind and concentrating hard to dissect the details. Shaggy blond hair, dirty, sweaty little boy. A cowlick and a purple mustache due to a seemingly endless supply of grape juice. Those things she could think of and smile about, but not the way he was now.
“Ellen, would you like to go get something to drink?” Bryan extended his hand toward the woman, palm up.
While the social worker gathered her things from the kitchen table, Bryan flashed Melissa a steady stare that made her think he’d support whatever story she told her father.
Question was why? Maybe they’d played together as kids, but that was a long time ago.
She didn’t want his pity, either, and after the mortifying scene in her living room late last summer, he couldn’t be backing her up for any other reason.
Bryan and Ellen left the kitchen and their footsteps faded down the hall. Lacking another distraction, Melissa shifted uncomfortably and tried for nonchalance. “What’s up?”
“How long were you standing out there?”
“Out there? Oh, not—”
“How long, Mel?”
She shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “Long enough.”
When her father’s gaze narrowed on hers, she felt much the same as she had at sixteen when she’d had to tell him she was pregnant. And unwed. The police chief’s daughter knocked up. Now there was a fun night.
“You saw it all, didn’t you?”
“Take it easy, Dad. I’m scarred for life, but after everything I’ve been through, what else is new?”
His expression darkened even more. “That is not funny.”
Neither was his marrying a stranger. “I stumbled upon you and was surprised so I…eavesdropped a little,” she admitted, lifting her chin. “I didn’t mean to, and I’m sorry. There, happy?”
He seated himself on the metal table. “No, honey, I’m not happy. I’m the one who’s sorry.” His hand gripped the edge tight, his knuckles turning white. “You shouldn’t have seen what you did. Not only was it out of line considering our location, but I should’ve told you about me and Ellen sooner. Told you we’re a couple.”
“Yeah, you should’ve. So why didn’t you?”
“I wanted to, Mel. It just never seemed like the right time.”
She walked to the cabinet and pulled out a glass, ignoring the tremor in her hands. “Or maybe you didn’t tell me because you think I’m so fragile I can’t handle the thought of you being with anyone but Mom.” She turned on the tap and filled the glass.
“Melissa Ann—”
“I can handle it.” The words came out sharper than she’d intended, plaintive. She tried again. “I can, I just—” Water sloshed over the brim before she realized the glass was full, and she dumped the contents, the force sending the water splashing out of the sink onto the counter. She ignored the mess and set the glass in the sink with a clatter, not caring that it toppled over when she swung around to face him. “How long have you known her? You can’t possibly be considering marriage!”
A smile touched his lips. “It seems sudden to you, but we’ve seen each other about every day since she set up her office.”
Taken aback, she blinked at him, the pain of being kept in the dark slicing deeper with his words. “But…that was months ago.”
He nodded his agreement. “Six, nearly seven.”
Her knees weakened and she leaned against the sink for support. The wate
r she hadn’t cleaned up soaked into her clothes, but she didn’t move, didn’t care. Seven months and he couldn’t find the right time to tell her?
“At first we met to discuss cases, ways the station could help the families in her care. Then it became more.” He looked up from his study of his callused hands. “I should’ve told you sooner. I regret that, but…I wanted to be sure of my own feelings before bringing it up.”
“It’s too fast.”
“I love her.”
She sucked in a sharp breath.
“And it’s not too fast. Ellen makes me happy. She’s a good woman, beautiful and kind and compassionate. When we’re together…well, we forget ourselves and it’s nice, Mel.”
A smile flashed across her father’s face, one she hadn’t seen the likes of in a long, long time. “I see… Well, now I know,” she murmured uncomfortably, dazed from having to absorb the news all at once. “Still, y-you kept your relationship a secret and that makes me think you’re not sure of your feelings.”
“I’m sure.”
“No. You can’t be. Y-you’re lonely. That’s understandable, but, Dad, rushing into—”
“I’m not rushing.”
“Of course you are! Joe and I had dated a long time before I got pregnant, and you were adamant that we couldn’t get married!”
“Joe was barely out of high school and you weren’t—there’s a big difference.”
Her father’s expression revealed his vulnerability, his need for her to be okay with this relationship. But she wasn’t okay and she wasn’t sure why.
“I love her, Mel. And I’m tired of being alone.”
Her dad was lonely. She knew loneliness, lived in that deep, unfaltering, empty void that overwhelmed her when she least expected it. God knows she felt it every day of her life, endured it. Hated it.
Sometimes in the middle of the night she couldn’t sleep, and she’d lie awake staring at the ceiling because she ached to have someone beside her. Someone to hold her, to share her nightmares and be her shelter in a storm of uncertainty and fear because she knew she’d never—never—
