A Man for Mom

by Gina Ferris Wilkins

  “I know,” Celia said with a sigh. “Everyone figures you’re already tucked cozily into bed, along with the munchkins. Rachel, we have got to get you a life.”

  “I have a life, Celia,” Rachel said patiently. “A very busy one. One that tends to start very early in the mornings, remember? Ten o’clock’s pretty late when one has to be up before sunrise.”

  Celia grumbled something about Rachel’s busy schedule—which Rachel ignored since she’d heard it all before—then asked, “Did you call Adam about Frank Holder?”

  “No. But I did talk to Cody.”

  “Cody?” Celia repeated in dismay. “Rachel, I told you to ask Adam for advice. What would Cody know about dealing with a guy like Holder?”

  “You know how busy Adam always is,” Rachel replied, shaking her head at the thought of trying to catch their big-shot doctor cousin. She was very fond of Adam, but she had never liked asking him for help. He was always so darned perfect, so completely in control. He would help her, of course—in fact, if Adam knew Holder was giving her trouble, he’d probably find the jerk and personally put the fear of God into him—but Rachel couldn’t imagine Adam ever asking anyone for help for himself. She’d always envied his cool self-sufficiency, and had tried to emulate Adam during the three long years since Ray’s death had left her in charge of the business.

  Which was why she hadn’t gone to Adam for advice on handling Holder. She hated to admit it, but it was a pride thing. Cody had been easier to approach, because Cody knew all about getting into trouble.

  “Sure, Adam’s busy,” Celia conceded, “but he always makes time for us when we need him. And he is certainly capable of dealing with Holder for you.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of dealing with Holder by myself,” Rachel said defensively. “I hired an attorney this afternoon. He assures me that he’ll take care of it, that the case will never even go to court.”

  “You found a new attorney?”

  “Yes. Cody recommended him.”

  “Cody recommended him?”

  “Celia, would you stop repeating me? You sound like a cockatoo.”

  “Sorry. I guess Cody knows the guy professionally, huh? Probably keeps him on a retainer.”

  “Oh, come on, Cody doesn’t get into trouble that often. Not legal trouble, anyway. Actually, this is a friend of his. They went to college together—before Cody dropped out, of course.”

  “Well, I would hope this guy finished, since he’s calling himself an attorney. You’re sure he knows what he’s doing?”

  “He seemed competent enough,” Rachel replied, trying not to think about the elaborate playing card structure Seth had been concentrating on when she’d arrived at his office. Or about how young he’d looked, with his shaggy, sandy hair tumbled over his forehead and falling into his wide-set green eyes. Or the way he’d been dressed—jeans and a sweater, rather than the suit and tie she’d expected. But Cody had assured her that Seth Fletcher was a very good attorney, and that his rates would be reasonable.

  She remembered Seth’s offer to handle the case for free, and her pride rebelled again. She might be on a tight budget, but she didn’t need anyone’s charity. She’d never even accepted Adam’s offers of financial assistance after Ray died—and she certainly had no intention of taking advantage of a total stranger in that way!

  “What’s his name?” Celia asked.

  “Seth Fletcher. He has a one-man office on West Poplar.”

  “He must be pretty young to have his own law practice, if he went to school with Cody.”

  “He’s Cody’s age, I guess. Two or three years younger than I am.”

  Rachel sometimes felt years older than her age, especially when she talked to Cody, who was twenty-nine, or Celia, who was twenty-three. Rachel had married at twenty-one, had two children by the time she was twenty-six, had been widowed at twenty-eight, and now, at thirty-one, was the sole owner and manager of the business her husband and his father had started twelve years ago. Ray had inherited his father’s share of the business two years after he and Rachel married; now it was hers alone.

  She’d never intended to run a trucking company, but when she’d found herself alone with a mountain of medical bills to pay and two small children to support, taking over the business had seemed the only answer. At least it was already established, and paying its own way, along with a moderate profit.

  It hadn’t been easy. Between fierce competition from other haulers, increasingly stringent government regulations, and rapidly rising prices of gas, tires, wages, insurance and dumping fees, there’d been times when Rachel had wondered if she could remain afloat. But somehow she’d survived this long, and the company was still paying its way and making that moderate profit for her children, so she kept on. One day at a time. One crisis at a time. One heartache at a time.

  “I hope this Seth Fletcher can take care of everything for you,” Celia said, breaking into Rachel’s solemn thoughts.

  Rachel forced a light tone. “All I want him to do is to get Holder off my back. The rest I can take care of by myself.”

  Celia sighed gustily. “Don’t you always. I’d better go. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you, okay?”

  “Of course.”

  “I mean it, Rachel.”

  “I know you do.”

  “But you’ll still try to handle everything alone,” Celia said in resignation. “Just like always.”

  “Good night, Celia.”

  “G’night. I’ll talk to you again soon.”

  Rachel replaced the handset in the receiver and snapped off the bedside lamp before crawling under the handmade quilt that served as a spread on her queen-size bed. She lay still for a moment, listening to the quiet of the night, reassuring herself that the children were sleeping soundly. And then she rolled onto her side and pulled the covers to her chin, one hand stretched in front of her to the side of the bed where her husband had once slept. And she fell asleep alone. Just like always.

  Chapter Two

  On an impulse he didn’t bother to examine too closely, Seth stopped by Cody’s club on the way home from his office the next afternoon. It had been a couple of weeks since he’d seen his friend, and he considered that reason enough. Besides, it was an unseasonably warm September afternoon. A cold drink sounded good.

  Country Straight was a country-western dance club Cody and a friend had founded on the outskirts of Percy, Arkansas, a couple of years earlier. Despite predictions of financial disaster, the place had become a success, even with a limited menu of barbecue and burgers, and the surprising fact that nothing harder than beer was served from the fancy antique bar. There weren’t many places for the younger crowd to hang out in north central Arkansas, but that wasn’t the only reason Country Straight was so popular. Primarily, it was because Cody and Jake had worked hard to make it the sort of club where just about anyone could feel comfortable going in for a casual meal or a couple of hours listening to music and dancing or relaxing.

  Cody had once admitted to Seth that the club was the first thing he’d ever cared enough about to make him work that hard.

  He sure hadn’t cared enough about college grades, Seth thought with a grin, remembering a few escapades the two of them had gotten into at the university—a few times only hours before final exams had started. Had Cody not dropped out after the second year, Seth might never have graduated, himself. And wouldn’t his parents have loved that? he thought with a wry grimace.

  It was still too early in the evening for a crowd to have gathered at the club. Only a half-dozen tables were taken; the music and conversations were low and relaxed. Seth could feel his neck muscles loosening within minutes of stepping inside, which was exactly the atmosphere Cody and Jake had carefully planned. Later, the music would pick up in volume and the dance floor would fill and the party would be in full swing; but for now, it was just a place to unwind and visit with friends.

  A loose-limbed blond man in black jeans and a black-and-pur
ple Western shirt sauntered around the end of the huge antique oak bar to one side of the room, his handsome face creased with a grin. “Hey, Seth. How’s it going?”

  “Can’t complain. How’s everything with you, Cody?”

  “Oh, fair t’middlin’,” Cody drawled. “Want a drink?”

  “Yeah. The usual.” Seth slung a leg over a bar stool and leaned his elbows on the bar.

  Cody placed a foaming mug of light beer in front of Seth, then took the bar stool beside him, a half-empty bottle of mineral water loosely clasped between his hands. Cody had been a heavy drinker in college, one of the reasons his grades had been so poor. But ever since Seth had moved to Percy six months ago to set up his own practice, he hadn’t seen Cody drink even a beer. Seth and Cody had lost touch for a while after Cody left college, and Seth had discovered more than a few changes in his friend during the past six months. He’d wondered a bit about the differences but hadn’t asked. He figured if there was anything Cody wanted him to know, he’d get around to telling him eventually.

  “Has my sister called you yet?” Cody asked, pushing a bowl of peanuts invitingly toward Seth.

  Seth dug out a handful of the peanuts, popped several into his mouth, then spoke around them. “Yeah, I talked to her.” He swallowed before adding, “She came by the office yesterday and outlined her problem. Sent me all her records on the ex-employee this afternoon. I glanced over them. She’s got herself well covered. Shouldn’t be any problem legally—her paperwork’s as precise and conscientious as any court could ask of her.”

  “That’s Rachel. Precise and conscientious.” Cody smiled faintly at the description. “So there won’t be any problems, huh?”

  “Probably not legally,” Seth clarified. “Personally, well, it sounds like the guy is a real jerk. I’m hoping to scare him off with a couple of stern, legal-sounding warning letters, but he could cause her trouble.”

  Cody scowled. “I offered to bust his face for her but Rachel made me promise to stay out of it. She was afraid it would only give him legal ammunition against her. Still, if he doesn’t leave her alone...”

  He left the rest of the threat unspoken. It wasn’t necessary for him to complete it. Seth knew how loyal Cody was to his family, how close they were to one another. It was one of the many things he’d always envied about Cody. His own family wasn’t close. Just the opposite, in fact, particularly where he was concerned.

  “Give me a chance to do the lawyer thing first,” he said easily. “If that doesn’t work, I’ll help you bust the guy’s face.”

  Cody’s quick grin returned. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  Seth took a sip of his beer, then asked casually, “Rachel’s your older sister, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah. She’s almost three years older than I am, which makes her almost four years older than you, buddy.”

  Seth shrugged. “Big deal.”

  Cody’s left eyebrow rose. “So, what did you think of her?”

  “She seems very—efficient,” Seth answered cautiously. But he was thinking of that quick flash of temper that had sparked in her dark eyes and left him wondering what other passions seethed behind that serene exterior she projected.

  “She had her kids with her,” he added. “They were certainly well behaved. I never even knew they were in the waiting room until I walked her out.”

  “Yeah, Paige and Aaron are exceptionally well behaved,” Cody agreed in amusement. “They’re more like Rachel than their uncle Cody was at their ages.”

  “That I believe.”

  “They’re nuts about me, of course.”

  “I’m sure they are. Must be nice for them to have someone their own mental age to play with,” Seth remarked, tongue in cheek.

  Cody punched his arm. “Watch the attitude, bud. This is my bar, you know. Just because you’re a big-shot lawyer doesn’t mean you can come in here slinging insults.”

  Seth smiled. “You going to have me thrown out?” he challenged.

  “I just might.” Cody glanced around, his attention lingering for a moment on a petite red-haired waitress who was just passing with a tray of drinks. “Hey, Dana,” Cody said to her, and motioned grandly toward Seth. “Throw this bum out after you deliver those drinks, will you?”

  The waitress smiled lightly. “Sorry, boss. I’m too busy for bouncing at the moment. Guess you’ll just have to handle it yourself.”

  Cody sighed deeply. “Forget it, then. This is a new shirt. I wouldn’t want to risk wrinkling it.”

  Dana moved on. Seth chuckled and finished his beer, along with the remainder of the peanuts. When he thought enough time had passed, he asked nonchalantly, “How come your sister’s husband isn’t taking care of this Holder guy? Or is she divorced?”

  “She’s widowed. Ray, her husband, died a few hours after a car wreck three years ago.”

  Seth didn’t quite know how he felt upon hearing that news. For some reason, he had hoped Rachel was single, but he was dismayed to hear that she’d lost her husband, and her children their father, so tragically. “Oh. Sorry. She didn’t say.”

  “She doesn’t talk about it much. She and Ray were pretty tight. It was tough for her. If it hadn’t been for the kids, she...” He finished the sentence with a grim shake of his head.

  “You said it’s been three years? Surely she’s dated since then.”

  Again Cody shook his head. “Not even dinner. Celia’s practically thrown men at her during the past year, but Rachel’s dodged them all. She keeps saying she isn’t ready, she’s too busy with the business, she wants to spend time with the kids. All excuses. I think she’s just afraid to get back into the dating scene after so long. Can’t say I blame her, really. It can be a jungle out here, can’t it?”

  Seth didn’t answer. He was thinking that a beautiful, intelligent woman like Rachel Carson Evans shouldn’t be hidden away like a rare, fragile piece of art. She should go out. Have fun. Take down that tightly bound hair and let those lovely lips curve into a smile. And he was thinking, with a touch of characteristic cockiness, that he knew just the man to help her get over her fear of dating again.

  * * *

  The next morning Rachel answered the telephone in her office to hear Seth Fletcher’s voice on the other end of the line. “I’ve been looking over this paperwork, and I can’t see that you have anything to worry about,” he said to assure her. “The letter from the insurance company alone justified your decision to terminate the guy’s employment, even had it not been for the other complaints against him. You certainly couldn’t be expected to employ a man who put you in danger of losing insurance coverage for your business.”

  “So what’s our next step?” Rachel asked. She was relieved to hear the attorney’s confidence that Holder hadn’t a legal leg to stand on. She’d thought her decisions were well documented, but it was nice to have the confirmation.

  “There’s really nothing else for you to do at this point. All you have are some vague threats on Holder’s part about taking you to court. He hasn’t even retained an attorney, as far as I can determine. He’ll probably let it drop now, but if he doesn’t, then we call his bluff. Be sure and keep records of any interaction you have with him—not that I have to remind you.”

  “No,” Rachel agreed with a faint smile. “My husband taught me very early about the C.Y.A. School of Business.”

  “The...oh, the Cover Your, er, Assets School, right?”

  “Something along those lines,” she agreed dryly.

  Seth chuckled. “You learned your lessons well. I’ve rarely seen such detailed record keeping. You’ve even got Holder’s signature on most of the letters of reprimand.”

  “He didn’t want to sign them, but I always made it a condition for him to return to his job after one of our meetings.”

  “Good practice. He can’t say he wasn’t warned plenty of times about cleaning up his act.”

  “He told one of my other employees that his signatures were forged on those letters.”
<
br />   Seth paused. “He doesn’t really expect anyone to believe that, does he?”

  “Who knows what he expects? He’s usually drinking heavily when he does most of his talking.”

  “If he continues to harass you, you can have a restraining order issued against him. As for him suing you, I’m still of the opinion that it would never get to court. My advice to you now is to wait and let him take the next step, if any.”

  “All right. I’ll do that. Thank you.” Rachel pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face and glanced at the pile of bills in front of her, waiting to be sorted and paid. “You’ll send me a bill for your services?” she reminded him.

  “Rachel, I haven’t done anything,” he returned in what sounded like amused exasperation. “I’ve only glanced over the paperwork and advised you to wait. If we have to pursue this, then I’ll bill you at my usual rates, okay?”

  She frowned, trying to decide if he was laughing at her. She wondered if he was so casual with all his clients, or if he considered theirs a first-name-basis relationship because of his friendship with her brother. It wasn’t that she minded him calling her by her first name, exactly, but there was something about Seth that made her defenses go up. Something she couldn’t quite define.

  Seth gave her another moment of silence, then said, “You still there?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Good. I was wondering if we could have dinner together tomorrow night. Someplace casual, where we can talk and get to know each other. How about it?”

  “Dinner?” Rachel repeated blankly, blinking in surprise at the invitation.

  “Yeah. Why don’t I pick you up at seven?” He seemed to take for granted that she would accept.

  She shook her head, almost as though he could see her. “I’m sorry, but I—”

  “Oh, I guess you have to arrange for a baby-sitter, don’t you? Tell you what, I’ll call back later this afternoon.”

  “That won’t be—”

  “If you can’t find anyone, don’t worry about it. We’ll just take the kids with us. I like kids. It’ll be fun.”