As for him, well, the memory of last night and what had almost gone down would linger in his mind for a very long time, as would the revelation that, just as he’d always believed, her lips had tasted incredibly sweet. That, too, would have to sustain him for an indefinite period to come. He knew there would be no replays, instant or otherwise.
Joe brought the Jeep to a halt before the sheriff’s building, parking it in the only space still available. Turning off the ignition and pulling up the hand brake, he was surprised that Mona remained beside him. He’d expected her to hop out. Under ordinary circumstances, he’d have to grab her to keep her inside the vehicle until it stopped moving.
“Something wrong?” he asked her.
Mona sat looking straight ahead, as if debating answering or just quietly getting out of the vehicle.
With a suppressed sigh, she turned toward him and said, “I’m sorry if I took your head off back there.”
The apology was even a greater surprise than her silence. He wondered what was going in her head. To his recollection, Mona had never been the type to tender her apologies.
She would have to have gone a long way before she measured up to anything he’d endured after his mother had died, leaving his welfare up in the air and at the mercy of a host of relatives who all had better things to do than raise a homeless boy.
“You didn’t,” he told her.
Mona knew better. She’d been rude and short with him and none of it had really been his fault. But she was trying to work certain things out in her head and, through no fault of his own, he had been a handy target.
“And about last night…” She wanted him to know that it wasn’t the thought of being with him that had horrified her this morning. It was the idea of not remembering, of believing that she hadn’t had control over her actions.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Joe told her. Nothing had happened beyond the one soul-searing kiss and she didn’t need to agonize over and regret. They would continue the way they always had, as more than friends, less than lovers. “Now, why don’t you go inside and see your brother before someone does start talking about you sitting out here with me in my Jeep?”
Other than playing poker, gossip and rumors were the number one diversion for a lot of the citizens of Forever. She didn’t want to give them any more fuel than they probably already felt they had. She was in no mood to be forgiving right now and probably wouldn’t be until she’d worked out what was bothering her.
“Right.”
Unbuckling her seat belt, Mona got out of the vehicle. The heels of her boots made rhythmic, staccato sounds as they hit the pavement before the short, squat office’s front door.
She didn’t bother knocking before she entered. The door was unlocked, which meant that at least one of the four-man team was in.
From the sound of it, the entire crew was present except, of course, for Joe, who for some reason hadn’t followed her in. She didn’t have time to wonder why.
The first to see her was Alma Rodriguez. Glancing up from her desk, the slender, dark-haired deputy was on her feet, running across the room to Mona with her arms outstretched. The next second, Mona found herself caught up in a fierce hug. For a small woman, Alma was exceptionally strong. She’d said it had something to do with growing up with five brothers and trying to hold her own.
“Hey, Mona, what are you doing here?” Alma cried, her voice muffled against Mona’s shoulder. “Rick told me that you weren’t coming in until the day before his and Olivia’s wedding.”
Mona hugged the woman back, partially in self-defense to keep from being smothered and partially because Alma, Larry and Joe were family to her. Coming to the office felt more like a home to her than the house where she’d grown up. Without her grandmother there and with Rick at work, the old building just felt like a shell with memories.
She pushed aside the sudden pang that sought to entangle her.
“I decided you guys needed my help getting everything ready,” Mona told her with a laugh.
Alma released Mona only to have her place taken by Larry Collins, the third deputy. Older than Joe and Alma, the tall, blond-haired man treated Mona as if she was his little sister and not the sheriff’s.
“Good to see you, little girl,” he said with feeling, stepping back. He smiled at Mona appreciatively. “You just keep getting prettier every time I see you. Good thing you came early. With you around, the sheriff’s fiancée can get to see that there’s a pretty side to his family after all.”
“What the hell’s all this noise?” Rick asked, coming out of his office. “It sure better have something to do with seeing to all the damage caused by yesterday’s flash flood—”
Rick stopped talking when Mona swung around to face him. Grinning, she threw up her hands like a gymnast jumping off the uneven bars after completing her program, waiting for applause.
“Surprise.”
Rick’s mouth dropped open. His sister was two weeks early. “Mona, what the hell are you doing here?”
“Surviving being hugged by your deputies,” she deadpanned as she crossed over to him. And then she answered him seriously, leaving out the part that a sense of anxiety had prompted her to come early. That was her problem to work out, not his. “I decided that I wanted to be more than just a spectator at my only brother’s wedding.”
Because he was glad to see her, alive and well and in one piece, he paused to hug her. Then stepped back, as all the things that could have happened to her took over his thoughts. A disapproving look mingled with the deep love for his younger sister.
“You should have waited until I came up for you.” That had been the plan, for him to fetch her and bring her down here the day before the wedding. They’d left it at that, with her agreeing. He should have known better. Mona was far too impetuous for her own good. “You know how I feel about you driving at night. Especially in a storm,” he emphasized.
“I didn’t drive through the night—or the storm,” she told him. “When I left Dallas, it wasn’t raining. I stopped when it started getting bad.” For now, she left out the part about the flat. No sense in giving her overprotective brother more ammunition.
His eyes narrowed. “Where’d you stop?”
She sighed, shaking her head. When she looked to Alma for help, the woman conveniently retreated to her work. She was on her own here.
“Do you have to play twenty questions now?” she asked her brother. “I haven’t even been here two minutes. The least you can do is pretend like you’re happy to see me.”
“I am happy to see you, you know that.” But he pinned her down with a look, the way he’d seen his grandmother do more than once. The old woman had been the only one who had ever managed to make his sister toe the line. “I’m just curious how you managed to avoid getting caught in the storm.”
“She didn’t avoid it,” Joe said, aware that all eyes turned toward him as he walked into the office. He’d stopped by Mick’s garage and given the mechanic directions as to where to find Mona’s Jeep. Mick had put the sheriff’s sister up to the head of his list and taken off before any of the other customers he had coming in today could complain. “Mona spent the night at the old Murphy place halfway between the reservation and town.”
“I know where the old Murphy place is,” Rick told him.
“That moth-eaten old cabin?” Alma cried in surprise, then looked at Mona. “You poor thing. What a way to spend your first night back.”
Rick had a more important question. He addressed it to Joe. “How would you know about that?”
“’Cause I was there, too,” Joe told him.
Crossing over to his desk, he acted as if he didn’t know that he’d just detonated a major bomb right in the middle of the room.
Without pausing to stop, Joe picked up his mug, which was in desperate need of cleaning, and went to make himself some coffee. Ordinarily, he wasn’t awake before the first cup. But today, watching Mona sleep had done a lot to get his blood movin
g.
Still, he had a feeling he was going to need more. He usually wasn’t wrong when it came to feelings.
Chapter Five
Mona saw the look that entered her brother’s green eyes as they shifted from her to Joe and then back again. She could almost hear the thoughts and questions sprouting like weeds in his mind. Thank God he didn’t know anything about the bottle of whiskey they’d found. Or the kiss.
“Don’t go all ‘big brother’ on me, Rick,” she warned. “If it wasn’t for Joe, I would probably have been swept away to who knows where,” she informed her brother. “Joe came to my rescue.”
Ordinarily an easygoing, laid-back sort of a man, all sorts of protective instincts rose to the fore when it came to his sister. Subconsciously, he always felt he had to step in for the father who had died before she was even a year old.
Rick took her answer with more than a degree of skepticism. “Oh? Would either one of you care to elaborate how this rescue wound up with you two spending the night together in the old Murphy cabin?”
Coffee mug in hand, Joe crossed back to the sheriff. All eyes were now on him. Stoically, he recited the facts as if he’d just been sworn in on the witness stand. “Her Jeep’s front right tire was flat—so was her spare. I was on my way home, saw her cursing at the tire and offered to take her back to town. The storm was getting worse and visibility next to impossible, so when we drove by the cabin, I decided it was better if we just waited it out there instead of running the risk of getting caught in a flash flood.”
“So you picked the cozy cabin,” Rick interjected, his tone far from satisfied.
“Cozy?” The incredulous utterance came from Alma, who hooted at the very thought of what her boss was suggesting. “Hell, Rick, have you seen that cabin lately? Not even a raccoon in heat would call it ‘cozy.’ Staying there’s like spending the night in a Dumpster.”
“How would you know that?” Larry asked, curious.
“That’s not the point here,” Alma pointed out evasively.
The cabin hadn’t been that bad, Joe thought, taking a deep sip of his coffee. But for the sake of putting Rick’s mind at ease, he decided it best to keep his observation to himself.
For a moment, it looked as if the sheriff would subject them to more probing questions. But then, mercifully, Rick shrugged, letting the matter drop.
He nodded toward Alma. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Nobody would willingly spend the night in that place.”
Her brother might be willing to let the matter drop, but Mona wasn’t. She took umbrage with his line of questioning.
“Alma might be right,” Mona allowed, “but you seem to be forgetting that I’m twenty-six.” She saw Rick’s eyebrows narrow, a sure sign that he wasn’t pleased with what he was hearing, but she pressed on. He had to be made to respect her as an adult, not a child. “Don’t you think it’s about time you stopped acting as if I was fifteen and still needed someone to guard my virtue?”
“Time to get back to work,” Larry announced loudly, turning away and clearly indicating that he had no intentions of taking sides in what looked to be a possible war between his boss and Mona.
Alma took her cue from Larry and glanced at her watch. “My turn to go on patrol,” she said to no one in particular.
Strapping on her sidearm and picking up her hat, the petite woman was out the door before any more words were exchanged.
Rick stood there for a moment as if debating two lines of thought. Coming to a conclusion, he turned to Joe. “Sorry, Joe. I should have just thanked you for bringing her in safely.”
Joe brushed off any real need for an apology. “That’s okay.”
She wasn’t exactly thrilled with that wording, either. All she wanted was to be treated as an equal, not an afterthought that needed special tending.
“Bringing me in safely?” Mona asked, incensed. “What am I, a stray mare to be ‘brought in safely’?”
Rick allowed a smile to curve his mouth. “No, definitely not a mare. Mares can be gentled. You’re more like a burr under a mustang’s saddle.”
Mona decided to take his comment as a compliment and smiled.
Though a great deal more vulnerable than anyone suspected—or possibly because of it—she’d made a point of never coming across as meek and mild. The meek and mild were stepped on and pushed around on a regular basis.
“Now that that’s out of the way,” Mona said, the edge gone from her voice, “you have any aspirin around here, Rick?” she asked hopefully. “My head’s about to split open.”
“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Rick asked. “I’ve got a whole bottle of the stuff in my office.” Leading the way back, he grinned. “I stocked up when I knew you were coming home.”
“Very funny,” she retorted. But there was affection in her voice as she said it. And a smile bloomed on her face when he put his arm around her shoulders, guiding her into his glass-walled office.
* * *
“BE WITH YOU IN A MINUTE,” Dr. Henry Whitmore, affectionately referred to as “Doc” by everyone who knew him, called out from the back room. His words were addressed to whoever had just walked into the front of his clinic, setting off a series of chimes that corresponded to the beginning notes of “How Much Is That Doggie in the Window?” He’d had the chimes ever since he’d opened his animal hospital in Forever more than thirty years ago.
There was something incredibly comforting in hearing the chimes, Mona thought as she walked in. It connected her to her childhood and all the years she’d spent here, apprenticing Doc, learning from experience what no textbooks could have possibly conveyed nearly so well.
From the time she was eleven until she went off to college, Doc’s animal hospital had been like another home to her. She’d felt comfortable here. Useful. And so in her element. She couldn’t always communicate with people, her emotions getting in the way. But animals were a different story. She had an affinity for animals. And they responded to her in kind, as if sensing the compassion she had for them, the respect with which she regarded all of them.
She’d loved animals ever since she could remember. Animals were loyal. If you showed them affection, they stayed. They didn’t just take off one morning, promising to be back but never meaning to keep their word, the way her mother had.
Her grandmother had solemnly called her an animal whisperer. The old woman had said that this was her calling. Her “gift.” It was obvious that animals seemed to be attracted to her. She could get them to do things that other people couldn’t. Mona was gentle with them, patient, and they trusted her even when they were sick or hurt.
She decided early on that her mission in life was to help these creatures that looked at her so trustingly, to make them well and to generally improve their quality of life. Because she was so determined to help every sick animal she found, it was only natural that her path would cross with Doc’s. From the time she was a little girl, he took a special interest in her and invited her to his clinic to be his “assistant.”
In time, she actually became one. She worked for him after school and on weekends. She would have done it for free just to be around the animals, but he insisted on paying her. Told her to save the money for her schooling, which she did, religiously.
That was how her college fund initially got started. Even so, it still wouldn’t have been enough for more than a year’s worth of tuition and expenses if Doc hadn’t come through again.
He insisted on giving her the money she needed to fund the rest of her education. Never married and childless, with no known relatives, Doc told Mona that she was the daughter he would have wanted to have if things had worked out differently for him. At the time he’d told her, she had the feeling that he’d loved someone once who hadn’t return that affection, but he never elaborated any further and she didn’t pry.
What she did do was promise to pay him back as soon as she was able. He’d answered that he wasn’t worried about getting his money back. He considered what he w
as doing to be a sound investment.
After her brother, Doc was the first person she went to see after she got into town.
Henry Whitmore came out of the back room where he performed his surgeries as well as his examinations on the smaller animals brought in either as beloved pets or wounded strays. He saw them all and treated them all. No animal was turned away because of the owner’s inability to pay. Neither did he turn out the strays. In his book, a suffering creature needed to be helped. It was as simple as that for him.
Gray-haired with deep blue eyes, Doc was a robust-looking man in his late fifties. He wore his glasses on the tip of his nose, making it easier for him to see his patients up close and look at the owners at the same time.
Walking out into the reception area, Doc was wiping his hands on a worn white towel, an indication that he had just completed an operation. Preoccupied with details pertaining to his last patient, he apologized before he even looked at his visitor.
“Sorry, my assistant’s been under the weather the past couple of days. I told her to stay home and get better. Hope you haven’t been waiting too long. What can I do for…?”
Doc stopped dead in his tracks as he got his first look at the person who’d walked into his clinic.
“Ramona?”
“You don’t have an assistant, Doc,” Mona reminded him with a smile. At least, he hadn’t had one the last time she’d been by. He’d told her that she’d spoiled him for anyone else and he wasn’t even going to attempt to replace her.
She’d rather liked that, even though she did acknowledge that it was a little vain on her part. “Do you?” she tagged on.
“Just Linda. She juggles my appointments,” he explained, “but she doesn’t like to be called a secretary. Says it’s outdated. So I call her my assistant. It makes her happy.” He tossed the towel aside on the reception desk and took hold of both of her hands in his wide, capable ones. “Here, let me look at you,” he cried, as pleased as any father would be when his only daughter was finally home from college. “You look good,” he declared. “But then, you always looked good,” he amended.
A Baby on the Ranch: A Baby on the RanchRamona and the Renegade Page 20
