Foxfire

by Carol Ann Erhardt

  Reluctantly, he was the first to pull away. He couldn't do it. No matter what he told himself, he wouldn't be able to use her this way. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair and feel those coppery curls twine around his fingers, and he damned his own weakness. Grace wasn't the kind of woman he could hop into bed with and forget. The last thing he needed was to get involved. One more kiss would lead to big trouble. The kind of trouble he wanted no part of, not now, not ever again.

  Tiffany sat on his foot. He stared down at her laughing face. Even the dog knew he lied to himself.

  Grace opened her eyes and that quick he was caught up in wanting to kiss her again.

  She tipped her head. A dimple showed in one cheek. She continued to stare at him while her smile rearranged the freckles sprinkled across her cheeks.

  “I said I'd think about it,” she said.

  He couldn't tear his mind away from the throbbing pull of sexual desire. “The kiss?” He touched her cheek.

  “No, the job offer.”

  Quickly she turned, leaving him standing alone staring at her back. Tiffany trotted beside her, and suddenly Tyler wanted to laugh. What a pair. He watched until the door closed, blocking them from his sight.

  He ambled home, pondering how quickly his plan had come together. He'd liked the thrill of working for the agency. Would he be able to walk away from it once he'd finished this assignment? Would it absolve him and bring an end to his guilt?

  Mulling over the questions wouldn't bring the answers. He had to focus on one thing only. The mission he'd been sent to accomplish.

  Having Grace work in the clinic would allow him to keep close tabs on her. She liked animals, and that was a crucial part of establishing trust with customers, so she'd fit in perfectly.

  Except for one thing. He wanted to jump her bones.

  ****

  Grace shut the door and knelt to hug Tiffany.

  “I'm not doing so well with new beginnings, am I?” She couldn't believe she'd let Tyler kiss her. She didn't even know him. And Harri didn't trust him. She believed in Harri's psychic abilities. And Grace believed in her own intuition. Intuition that told her she'd seen something important in that garage last night.

  Tiffany yelped and Grace released her strangle-hold. She hadn't realized how tightly she'd gripped her friend.

  “I'm sorry, girl.” Grace kissed the dog's nose. “I'm such a ninny for letting myself get spooked. When am I ever going to get over my fear?”

  She walked to the bedroom, turning her thoughts to the kiss she'd just shared with Tyler. She had to focus on pleasant thoughts.

  She undressed and stood in front of the mirror. She imagined Tyler telling her she was beautiful, and that her past didn’t matter. His kiss still tingled on her lips. She brushed a finger over their fullness. Oh, no doubt about it, Tyler Sandford spelled trouble with a capital T.

  Knowing that, could she work for him?

  No way. She'd already made the mistake once of getting involved with her boss. If she accepted a job working for Tyler, she knew she wouldn't be strong enough to resist him.

  She put on her robe and went to the kitchen to give Tiffany fresh water.

  Staring out the window toward the animal clinic, Grace watched a light blink in the distance and disappear. It reminded her of the legendary foxfire, the strange light that glowed in the wooded mountain range from time to time.

  She pulled the curtains to block the view.

  Tiffany's nails clicked across the kitchen floor. The clock on the mantle ticked unceasingly. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

  The old house creaked, flexing stiffened joints.

  The sounds of the boards settling set her nerves on edge. Too much was happening much too fast. Connor had uncovered her past. If he could do that, then what was to stop her enemies from finding her? She shivered and pulled her robe closer. She might have glimpsed a killer last night, and not so long ago she'd slept with one.

  Grace turned out the light. Darkness wrapped her in a black shroud. Harri's words of caution crept into her mind. Grace didn't have a good track record when it came to men, and she trusted Harri's intuition. Was there a connection to the Knoxville Knifer and the man she'd seen?

  And what about Tyler? Who was he? Could it be a coincidence that he was from Ohio, too?

  Through the crack in the curtain, Grace focused on the darkness that had descended on Foxfire, the community where nothing bad ever happened.

  Chapter Four

  Adam Shockley walked toward the old Feathers place, which now bore a bright red-lettered sign boasting “Foxfire Animal Clinic.” He'd read the ad last weekend announcing the clinic's grand opening.

  Passing by Grace Wilkins' cabin, he glanced at the weathered logs and low hanging porch roof. His grandparents had built the house many years ago and it had withstood time with grace and dignity. When he put it up for sale, he scrutinized every prospective buyer. The residents of Foxfire needed to meet a certain criteria. He'd learned that many years ago from his grandfather, and when his grandfather died, followed by the death of Adam's father, the responsibility passed down to Adam.

  When Grace had placed an offer on the house, he'd told the realtor he needed to meet the prospective buyer before committing. The moment he'd met Grace, all his reservations fell away. An angel, beautiful and sweet, she added a spark of life to Foxfire.

  He'd learned from Brad that she'd broken off her engagement and was no longer working for the District Attorney's office. It was time to make his move. He'd invite her to dinner. Women liked to be courted. And flowers. He'd have to remember flowers. His pace picked up, encouraged by his decision. He squinted under the sun's glare and adjusted his ball cap lower.

  When he reached his destination, he was happy to see a new coat of white paint brightened the old two-story house. Adam hoped this business would be good for the community. His family had owned a big portion of this mountain for many generations, and he had to protect his heritage.

  Adam turned the knob and pushed open the door, setting off a clanging. He smiled at the cowbell on a chain, admiring the simplicity of the country-inspired welcome. Foxfire was a community that remained true to its Appalachian roots, and it looked like the vet planned to follow the culture. He'd even heard rumors he would make house calls.

  “Hi. Can I help you?”

  Adam swiveled his head. He grinned at the man who stared back at him. Adam felt dwarfed, though he stood nearly six-feet tall. The man smiled back, lines crinkling at the edges of his intense green eyes.

  “Nice touch.” Adam nodded at the bell then extended his hand. “I'm Adam Shockley.”

  “Tyler Sandford.”

  “I've been watching progress on the clinic.” Adam perused the open area of the reception room with the two wooden benches against one wall, which reminded him of the pews in the Baptist church he'd attended as a child. “You did a good job with the remodeling.”

  Tyler swept his left arm in a welcoming gesture. “Would you like a tour? I'm proud of how well it all came together.”

  “Quite a change from when old Charlie owned it.”

  “You knew the former owner?”

  Adam nodded. “Born and raised in these parts. I used to buy peanuts from a stand out by the road. That's how Charlie passed the time after his wife, Leona, died. He never went out much after that, except for church on Sunday. I think he grieved himself to death.”

  “Sad.” Tyler pushed open the door to the examination room and ushered Adam in. “You probably know most of the people around here.”

  “Yep. Most.”

  Tyler leaned against the stainless steel table and crossed his ankles. “Do you think I have a snowball's chance in hell of making a success of this clinic?”

  “Maybe. Depends on what you mean by success.” Adam narrowed his gaze on Tyler, taking his measure. He appeared to be about ten years younger than Adam's forty-two years. He wore the local uniform of jeans and a pocket t-shirt, but an open white lab coat topped
it.

  Tyler met his gaze directly, man-to-man, with no sign of uncertainty. “I've got pictures of Norman Rockwell in my head. It's the main reason I decided to set up practice away from the city. I'm excited about the prospect of making house calls, just like the old timers did.”

  He pushed his body off the table and led the way through a door to the back area filled with cages.

  “My idea of success is to make enough to keep the place running and put food on the table.”

  Adam laughed. “Then you shouldn't have a problem. That is...” He turned to face Tyler. “If you're serious about making house calls from time to time.”

  Tyler's lips lifted in a grin. “I'm serious.”

  Adam nodded.

  Tyler showed him the rest of the clinic and the living quarters he'd set up for himself. By the time Adam left, he felt comfortable that the new clinic would be perfect for Foxfire. He'd make a few calls, and soon Tyler would have the community's support.

  He whistled and retraced his steps, stopping when he reached Grace's house.

  Tiffany raced toward him with her ears laid back. She came to an abrupt halt in front of him. Her lips pulled up over her teeth and she emitted a low growl.

  He hated dogs. Ever since that one had bitten his leg and drew blood, he'd kept his distance. He wished Grace wouldn't let this one run loose. But he hadn't heard of the dog biting anybody. He held out his hand. Maybe if he could make friends with it...

  “Come here, girl. I won't hurt you.”

  But the dog remained steadfast, blocking the path, warning him not to move closer.

  “Tiffany! Bad girl.”

  With relief, Adam turned his gaze to the beauty walking across the leaf-strewn yard.

  “I'm sorry,” Grace said. She walked up and grabbed the dog's collar. “I don't know why she's acting this way. She's usually very friendly.”

  Adam gulped. Grace's hair ignited in the sunshine. The curls rioted in flames of red and gold. Her beauty froze him, driving the words he wanted to say clear down to his toes. He pulled the cap a little lower.

  Grace gazed at him quizzically. “Are you all right?”

  He stepped forward with his hand extended toward her dog. “I was trying to make friends with her.”

  Tiffany sniffed at his fingers and rumbled another low growl.

  “Shame on you, Tiff,” Grace scolded.

  “She's just protecting you. That's not a bad thing.”

  Grace grinned and his stomach wrenched.

  “Were you down at the clinic, Adam?” Grace asked.

  “Yeah. Just checking it out. The new vet seems okay.”

  “Tiffany likes him. Don't you?” Grace ruffled the dog's fur.

  Adam's heart nose-dived. She'd already met the vet? What chance did he have against the younger, good-looking man? But looks weren't everything. And his age gave him the maturity that a woman like Grace needed. He had to make his move now.

  “Grace. I was wondering...”

  She lifted a hand to shade her eyes.

  “Would you have dinner with me?” he blurted. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, rocked back on his heels and waited for her answer. She hesitated for a moment, and his heart missed a beat. Emotions he couldn't read played across her face. He rocked back and forth to keep from bolting.

  “Sure, Adam. Maybe we can do that sometime.”

  “Tomorrow night?”

  Her face turned pink. “Not tomorrow night. I'm sorry.”

  Adam kicked a clod of dirt, wishing he could kick something else. Something substantial that would bring a feeling of satisfaction. Like the dog.

  Tiffany growled, then barked a warning.

  “Tiffany. No.” Grace turned her dazzling eyes up to meet his gaze. “I'm sorry. Maybe some other time?”

  Some other time. Sure. Like she meant that. He could tell she wasn't interested in spending time with the likes of him.

  “Yeah. Another time,” Adam muttered.

  She tugged Tiffany's collar and pulled her toward the house. “See you later.”

  He watched her walk away, her hips swaying hypnotically. She couldn't put him off forever. He'd find a way to get to her, make her notice him and see he'd be a good catch. He had a lot to offer a woman like Grace.

  Perhaps he'd get his hair cut. Maybe change the way he dressed. There had to be a way to catch her eye.

  ****

  Connor flexed his fingers, loosening the tension riddling his nerves. Sweat beaded his forehead. When he'd made the decision to run for state senator, not once had he feared adverse publicity. Now he lived with that constant worry.

  His connection at the police station had told him about Grace's visit. He needed her to stay away from Knoxville until he came up with a way to handle the publicity their broken engagement would cause. He hadn't figured on Grace running off, nor on her quitting her job.

  He'd thought he had her figured out, but she'd shown more spunk than he thought she possessed. She'd managed to keep her past a secret from him. Now he had to make it stay hidden from anything that could damage his political career. Too bad, for he'd thought she'd make a perfect wife. She'd been quietly aloof and had presented herself well to the media. Now he had to find a way to extricate himself without risking negative press.

  He listened to the third ring on the phone line. Where was she? He loosened his tie and unfastened his collar button. If she didn't answer—

  “Hello?”

  He stopped pacing. The sound of Grace's voice, soft and breathless, stirred desire that warred with his anger.

  God help him, he still wanted her.

  “Grace. I have to see you. It's important.” Connor sank into his leather office chair and toyed with the folder on his desk.

  “There's nothing more for us to talk about.”

  He picked up a pencil and tapped it on the desk. “You've still got a key to the office and you left some personal items in your desk. Let's meet for lunch and we can exchange things.”

  Silence met his ear.

  “Grace?”

  “I'll mail the key...anything I left in the desk you can throw away.”

  “It's just lunch, Grace. Nothing more. I'm not going to try and talk you into coming back to work. I have something important that I need to tell you, but I can't do it over the phone. Meet me Toby's Diner. Twelve-thirty sharp.”

  “No.”

  “Grace—”

  The dial tone hummed in his ear. He pressed the off button and threw the cell phone onto his desk. He'd managed to squelch the story on her police report. Thank goodness for his connections. But he couldn't keep things buried forever. Not if she kept showing up, creating speculations he couldn't afford. He snatched his jacket from the back of his chair. If the bitch wouldn't come to him, he'd go to her.

  ****

  Grace stormed from the house with Tiffany on her heels. How dare Connor order her around after telling her she wasn't good enough for him? Connor was scum. Worse than a bottom-feeding catfish.

  She stomped along the path, each step fueling her anger.

  Tiffany sniffed and clawed at a rock, which Grace picked up and flung into the woods.

  “Come on, Tiff. Let's go see about a job.” She hadn't seen the new clinic yet anyway. A week had passed since the night she'd promised to think about the job offer, and she hadn't found another job. So what if she found Tyler attractive? He said he wasn't looking for a relationship either. Worse came to worst, they'd have an affair. It wouldn't be the end of the world. As long as neither of them expected more than that, no one would be hurt.

  Tiffany pushed her nose into the dirt, pulled her snout back and sneezed.

  Grace laughed and Tiffany lowered her front legs into a playful crouch. Grace bent forward, hands extended.

  Tiffany whirled and ran.

  Grace followed for a few feet, and then stopped.

  Tiffany changed directions and zipped past Grace, barking with playful glee. Grace ran after her, coming to a breathl
ess halt at the clinic. She placed her hands on her thighs and leaned over to catch her breath.

  The dog barked, tail wagging rapidly.

  “Come on, Tiff.” Grace climbed the stairs and opened the clinic door. A bell jangled, announcing their arrival.

  Tyler swiveled away from a computer to face them, a frown pulling his eyebrows together. When he saw who'd entered, he stood and a smile smoothed his face, igniting a flame in the emerald depths of his eyes.

  “Grace.” He walked toward her. “Are you here to see the clinic, or is Tiffany sick?”

  Tiffany leaped at the sound of her name and placed her front paws on his chest, tongue flicking toward his face.

  Tyler wasn't fast enough to avoid a doggy kiss.

  “Down, Tiff,” Grace ordered. “I'm sorry. She seems to have forgotten all her behavior training.”

  Tiffany dropped to all fours, but her eyes remained focused on Tyler.

  Tyler stroked her head. “It's good to see you too, girl.” He grinned at Grace. “She doesn't look sick. Does that mean you came to see me?” He wiggled his eyebrows comically.

  “We came to see the clinic. After all, when it comes to Tiffany, I can't be too careful. I can't trust her care to just any old veterinarian who shows up on my doorstep.”

  He laughed. “Fair enough.” He glanced at his watch. “Next patient is due in an hour. Let me give you a tour, then maybe you'll take pity on me. If you hadn't shown up, I might have thrown that damn computer out the back door.”

  Grace followed Tyler into an examining room. Her gaze took in the stainless steel monster scale Brad had mentioned. “Brad wasn't kidding. That thing probably could weigh a bear.”

  “Tiff, hop up.” Tyler patted the scale.

  Tiffany put her front paws on, then backed off.

  Grace laughed, beginning to feel more at ease. “She's a true female. Doesn't want to reveal her weight.”

  Tyler hoisted the dog to the scale and adjusted the weights on the balance bar. “Ninety pounds on the nose.”

  Tiffany wagged her tail and barked.

  Grace and Tyler laughed in unison.

  “She's a great dog,” Tyler said.