The Husband List

by Cindy Kirk

  A small table for four with a red tablecloth was open next to where they stood.

  Hailey smiled at Winn and Mitzi, and gestured with one hand. “We could all sit here? Unless you’ve already gotten a space elsewhere?”

  “Thanks, Hailey. This works for me.” She glanced at Winn. “Okay with you?”

  Somehow, in the buffet line, Keenan ended up behind her.

  “You don’t seem the book-club type to me,” Keenan murmured. “No disrespect intended.”

  Mitzi laughed, inhaling the faintly intoxicating scent of his scent, a delicious blend of soap, wood and red-blooded male. “I’m not.”

  “Why are you here?”

  She shrugged. “Kate’s my dearest friend. You?”

  Keenan’s lips quirked upward. “Joel’s my boss.”

  “You win.” She laughed. “Your reason is more compelling.”

  “What book are you discussing tonight?”

  She slanted him a sidelong glance. “Is that a trick question?”

  “I thought that’s what was happening after dinner.”

  Mitzi pursed her lips. “Kate may have mentioned some book.”

  “You didn’t read it?”

  “I was supposed to read it?” Mitzi lowered her voice. “I shouldn’t probably admit this, but I’m not much of a reader.”

  “I’m not, either,” he said easily, reaching around her to grab two plates, then handing one to her. “I pretended to love it when Betsy was little, because I knew it was important. She loves to read.”

  “You were a good big brother.”

  “I tried,” he said, his eyes taking on a distant look. “I could have done better.”

  Mitzi didn’t want to look back too far or think of her own sister. Perhaps she could have helped her. Perhaps not. Growing up, it had been every sister for herself. Which now seemed a bit sad. “I’m a firm believer in leaving the past in the past.”

  “You’re right.” He grabbed two rolls and tossed one on her plate and the other on his. “Looking ahead holds so much more appeal. Take you, for example. Soon you’ll have a brand-new house and no workmen underfoot.”

  “I am looking forward to it being done.” Mitzi hadn’t realized how much she counted on her home being her sanctuary until she’d moved into chaos instead of solitude. “What are you looking forward to?”

  “Getting my pilot’s license back.” Keenan heaped some potato salad on a plate. “I have my aviation physical scheduled for Friday. A guy I work with, his brother is a flight instructor. He’s taking me up so I can sharpen my rusty skills and get some hours in the air. Then I should be all set.”

  “After you get your license, then what?” Mitzi took a spoonful of pasta salad. “I mean, it’s not like you have access to a plane or anything.”

  His mouth tightened as he focused on the plethora of salads and side dishes spread out before him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, placing a hand on his arm.

  “No reason to apologize. You only spoke the truth,” he said evenly.

  “Knowing you, you’ll find a way to get in the air.”

  “I think I may have already found it. But until it’s all settled, I’m not counting on anything.”

  After spending so much time behind bars, he deserved some good luck. If she’d been in his situation, she’d have been bitter. But from what she’d seen so far, he’d simply moved on. “What kind of way have you found?”

  “You know Bill—” Keenan began, waited for Mitzi’s nod. “His brother, Steve, said I can use his plane in exchange for mechanic work.”

  “Steve?” Mitzi paused as the name settled over her. “What’s his last name?”

  “Kowalski.” Keenan glanced at her. “Do you know him?”

  Mitzi nodded. “Ben uses one of his planes to fly to the rural clinics the practice does across the state.”

  “No kidding. How often are these clinics?”

  “It varies depending on how many patients are scheduled. At least once a month, sometimes more often.”

  “Move it along.” Hailey tapped Mitzi on the shoulder. “Quit with the conversation.”

  Mitzi glanced around and realized with sudden horror that she’d gotten so engrossed talking with Keenan that she’d stopped walking and was holding up the line.

  She made quick work of filling her plate then forced her attention to Winn once they were all seated. It wouldn’t do for him to get the idea she was interested in a romantic relationship with Keenan.

  But Hailey and Winn had apparently been discussing tonight’s book club selection—Catcher in the Rye—and continued the discussion once seated.

  “What did you think of the protagonist?” Hailey asked Mitzi. “Did you find him overly judgmental?”

  Mitzi could spout nonsense with the best of them, but she was tired and for once honesty seemed the best policy. “I know I read the book. Or I think I read it. After all, it’s a classic. All I can remember right now is that the narrator had a funky name.”

  “Holden Caulfield,” Hailey said and Winn smiled.

  “That’s more than I remember,” Keenan said, not appearing the least embarrassed by the admission.

  “Winn and I both love the book,” Hailey said with way too much enthusiasm. “I told him it was too bad he has to play baseball. He has such great insight on several aspects of the novel.”

  “We could switch,” Mitzi offered, only half joking. “Except I’m not into baseball, either.”

  Hailey cocked her head. “What is it you like to do, Mitzi?”

  The woman sounded as if she was genuinely interested. But Mitzi knew her answer would make her sound superficial rather than scholarly.

  If the shoe fit...

  “I like to shop,” Mitzi admitted. “I like to travel, see new places. I like to decorate my home.”

  “I like to shop, too.” Hailey flashed a bright smile in Mitzi’s direction. “Anytime you need a shopping buddy, give me a call.”

  “I will,” Mitzi said, finding it impossible not to like her.

  Mitzi found herself paying more attention to her conversation with Hailey than she did to the plate in front of her. So when Kate announced it was time for the book-club discussion to begin and Joel started gathering up the players for the baseball game, her plate had barely been touched.

  “I’ll join you in the family room in a minute,” she told Kate. “I skipped lunch, so I’m going to finish eating first.”

  “Bring your plate with you,” Kate offered. “Eat while we discuss.”

  To Mitzi’s way of thinking, that would be the quickest way to ruin an appetite.

  “Start without me.” Mitzi waved a hand in the air. “I’ll be in soon.”

  Winn and Hailey had already left the table, but Keenan remained seated. She heard him tell Joel not to wait on him.

  “Go outside,” she told him.

  “I’m in no rush, either.” He studied her thoughtfully. “In fact, I wouldn’t mind us cutting out and finding our own entertainment. What do you say, Mitzi? Want to play hooky with me?”

  Chapter Eight

  Keenan couldn’t believe he expected Mitzi to leave her friend’s party. But when she tilted her head and the air surrounding them began to sizzle, the impulsive gesture made sense.

  He wanted her. With him. Alone.

  The thought was so far from baseball and book clubs that he had to grin.

  A spark of interest flared in her blue eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

  You. Me. Naked.

  “I’m open to just about anything.” The fact that she asked told Keenan she was halfway out the door with him already. “The only thing off-limits is any discussion of Catcher in the Rye.”

  Mitzi took a sip
of wine. Considered.

  Keenan reined in impatience. Was Winn the reason she was hesitating? Or did she simply want to hang with her friends this evening? God, he hoped not.

  “Forget it.” Keenan swiped the air with his hand in a careless gesture. “You’re here because of the book club—”

  “Can you really believe I want to spend the rest of my evening discussing some horrid story that I haven’t even read?” She curved her fingers around his biceps, and those luscious red-painted lips curved in a sly smile. “It’ll be like a jailbreak.”

  Glancing around the warm and homey interior, at the table with its mountain of food, Keenan thought of the cell that had been his home in the Rawlins penitentiary. Jail? Not hardly. Still, he’d play along.

  “Do you have a hideout in mind if Joel and Kate turn the dogs loose?”

  Mitzi’s smile widened. “Of course I do.”

  “Where?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Though it would have been Keenan’s preference to slip out unnoticed, good manners dictated otherwise. Mitzi strolled into the family room to tell Kate, while he pulled Joel aside outside. Then they were free, and the winding road down the mountain beckoned.

  Mitzi’s snazzy sports car zipped around curves then picked up even more speed on the highway into Jackson. She said she’d lead the way and he promised to follow. But he didn’t expect the abrupt turn into the parking lot of a big-box store on the edge of town.

  He wheeled his clunker next to her sporty BMW and got out. “Remembered some last-minute shopping?”

  “In a manner of speaking.” Without looking to see if he would follow, she began walking toward the front of the store. “Tonight is Tuesday.”

  He hurried to catch up. “Thanks for the news bulletin.”

  The automatic doors slid open. The metal beams and fluorescent lights reminded him of a similar place that had been his second home growing up. That store had everything an impoverished family needed, including air-conditioning during the hottest summer days.

  “It’s sample night.” Mitzi tossed her head, sending her glorious mane of hair scattering around her shoulders like falling autumn leaves. “Every Tuesday they set up food stations in the grocery section. You can eat for free.”

  She was serious in her glee, and a spark of anticipation made her blue eyes shine.

  Her enthusiasm made Keenan smile. “How do you know stuff like this?”

  “I spent my share of years living on little to no money. I consider myself an expert on finding ways to conserve.” Mitzi smiled at the woman in the bright red smock and continued with purposeful steps past the customer service center to the grocery section. “They have this once a week. Every Tuesday. Until you get on your feet, you might want to keep it in mind.”

  Until you get on your feet.

  She understood—no believed—he wouldn’t be living paycheck to paycheck forever.

  “I knew this night was on an upswing.” Her eyes lit up at the sight of the first sample station. “Shrimp. Yum.” For a second, he thought about mentioning the fried chicken and all the fabulous side dishes at Joel and Kate’s. But then he realized this wasn’t about food. It was about adventure, doing the unexpected and helping out a friend.

  “I’d like a sample, please.” Mitzi flashed the older woman with the tightly permed gray hair a bright smile then accepted a small plastic cup holding three boiled shrimp.

  Keenan waited.

  Mitzi gestured with her head toward him. “My friend, he’d like a sample, too.”

  Her friend. It had a good sound.

  Keenan held out a hand for the shrimp.

  Mitzi enjoyed the hour she spent with Keenan wandering up and down the aisles, sampling everything from black-bean chips to tiny bites of cake. The only item she refused was the chewy coconut macaroons.

  “I hate anything with coconut,” she confided to Keenan, even as he eagerly reached for the sample.

  So far she’d enjoyed the outing. With Keenan, she could be herself. Mitzi liked exchanging stories from childhood. Stories that others would find difficult to comprehend or perhaps even think she was joking.

  She told him about studying every evening in the dilapidated library near her home because the place had air-conditioning and an internet connection. He confided spending time at home, even when he would have preferred to be running with his schoolmates, because he didn’t trust his mother’s “friends” around Betsy.

  Because Mitzi wasn’t interested in Keenan romantically, it was easy to be honest. Once they’d visited the last sample station, they stepped out into the Indian-summer-night air. Being on the edge of Jackson was almost like being in the country.

  Mitzi paused to gaze into the clear, star-filled sky. Keenan stood beside her, his head cocked back, his eyes focused up.

  For a second she considered taking his hand...just because...but instead fell into step beside him.

  It was warm for September, which was why most of the women shoppers they passed wore shorts or capris and sandals. Mitzi felt a bit overdressed in her flowing skirt, blousy top and heeled boots. But if the admiring glances sent her way were any indication, most men—including Keenan—liked what she wore.

  “Did I mention I’m going to be flying to—” She gaped as Keenan took off running across the asphalt lot.

  Mitzi watched first in irritated puzzlement then in horror as he headed directly into the path of a mammoth four-by-four.

  “Keenan.” His name ripped from her throat, though she doubted he heard her over the truck’s pounding bass.

  The driver missed him by inches, flipped up his middle finger, then hit the gas and sped from the lot.

  Mitzi raced across the asphalt lot, her heart pounding. She slid to a stop in front of him, grabbed his arm in a death grip. “Are you crazy? You could have been killed. Whatever made you—”

  Then she saw it. A tiny gray kitten cradled in his large, callused hands. While Mitzi stared, the animal lifted its head, fixed its green eyes on her and mewed.

  The fur was longish but couldn’t hide that the kitten was beyond skinny. Ribs were prominent and green eyes enormous in a too-thin face.

  Keenan’s eyes met hers. “He’d have run over her.” His voice held an icy edge. “He saw her and could have easily missed her. But he wanted to hit her.”

  He stared into the distance, his eyes as cold as his words.

  “Bastard,” he spat.

  Mitzi turned in time to see the lights of the truck disappear from view.

  “I’ve known men like him.” She thought of her sister’s second husband and shivered. “Guys into hurting women, children, animals, just because they can.”

  A plaintive mew pulled Mitzi’s attention back to Keenan.

  She stepped close, stroked the kitten’s head with two gentle fingers. “She’s tiny. How old do you think she is?”

  Keenan pulled his gaze from the darkness. His eyes softened. “I’m guessing about four weeks.”

  “What are we going to do with her?” Mitzi glanced around the parking lot, at all the cars and trucks entering and exiting. For a baby like this one, danger was everywhere. She pulled her brows together in a worried frown. “We can’t leave her here.”

  “No,” he agreed. “She’ll be hit. Or wander from the parking lot into the darkness and an animal will get her. We’ll drop her off at the shelter. She’ll be safe there.”

  Mitzi started to shake her head even before he finished speaking. “According to the local news the shelter already has too many cats. Next weekend they’re offering special pricing to try to reduce the number.”

  “It’s not fair,” Keenan murmured almost to himself. “Her life has barely begun and already she struggles.”

  “You could keep her,” Mitzi suggested hopefully as th
ey slowly crossed the lot to their vehicles.

  “Can’t.” The word hung heavy with regret. “The boardinghouse where I live doesn’t allow pets.”

  “What about your sister?”

  “Puffy, their Pomeranian, despises cats.” Keenan paused when they reached her BMW. His hazel eyes met hers, held. “You could take her.”

  “Me?” Surprise had the word coming out on a squeak.

  “You have a house.”

  “A house under construction,” she reminded him. Still, her gaze was drawn now to the kitten resting contentedly in the crook of his arm.

  “Cats don’t need a lot of care.” Keenan rested a hand on the top of the low-slung car. “You had one. You know.”

  Oreo. Mitzi’s heart lurched. The black-and-white had been one of the true bright lights of her childhood.

  “Cats are self-sufficient.” Keenan’s tone turned persuasive. “Give ’em a litter box, food and water, and they’re happy.”

  Mitzi gazed down at the kitten. “I wonder if I could teach her to do tricks like you did with Mr. Tubs.”

  “You’ll keep her?” Relief etched itself on his face and sounded in his voice.

  “I don’t see I have much choice.” Mitzi scooped the kitty from his arms, held her close then smiled as the animal began to purr. “She needed a break. Tonight she gets two. You saved her life. I’ll give her a home.”

  * * *

  The next couple of days passed quickly. Keenan saw the kitten, but not Mitzi. On Thursday, when he packed up his tools and headed to his car, she still wasn’t home.

  He fought a surge of disappointment. It wasn’t that he was desperate to see her, he was merely curious how she and the kitten were getting along. All afternoon he’d had the feeling this was the day their paths would cross again. But he couldn’t hang around and wait any longer. Keenan had discovered Ben Campbell was an aviation medical examiner.

  He’d been able to secure a late-afternoon appointment, scheduled after the doctor saw his last patient. He arrived a few minutes early, eager to complete the first step toward getting his pilot’s license.

  Spring Gulch Orthopedics was an impressive structure, brick edged with stone with a massive timbered entry. As Keenan walked through the heavy wooden front doors with edged glass, it struck him how far apart his world was from the one Mitzi now inhabited.