The Husband List

by Cindy Kirk

  “Gloria’s birthday?”

  Surprise flickered in Betsy’s eyes. “He’s spoken of her?”

  “Keenan has nothing good to say about her.”

  “She was horrible to him.”

  “Why?” Mitzi’s confusion was real. Who could be mean to a nice guy like Keenan?

  “Crazy as it sounds, I think it was because he has such a good heart. Though, after the incident with the flowers, he rarely let that side of him show, except to me.”

  Though Mitzi hadn’t yet heard the story, anger at the faceless Gloria had begun to build.

  “What happened?” A cold chill settled over Mitzi. “What did she do to him?”

  “Our mother was a Jekyll and Hyde. Probably because of the drinking. Or maybe that’s what led her to drink. I don’t know, but right before her birthday that year Mom seemed better. We’d even done a few fun things as a family. I was five. Keenan was ten.” Betsy closed her eyes for a second. “For her birthday he gave her flowers he’d picked from the neighbor’s yard.”

  Betsy’s eyes grew bleak. Tears welled up but didn’t fall.

  Mitzi knew the story was about to take a bad turn and her heart wrenched for the man she loved.

  Snatching a couple of napkins from the table dispenser, Mitzi pressed one into Betsy’s hand and kept the other for herself.

  Betsy dabbed at her eyes and cleared her throat. “Keenan didn’t know Gloria had started drinking that morning right after he left for school. She was a mean drunk.”

  Mitzi balled her hands into fists, and when she spoke her voice was ice. “Tell me what she did.”

  Betsy met Mitzi’s gaze. “She flung the flowers in his face and said she didn’t want a bunch of stupid weeds. I still remember the shock in his eyes. But he didn’t cry, not really.”

  Mitzi could scarcely breathe past the tightness gripping her chest.

  “The pain he tried so hard to hide fueled her anger.” Betsy’s eyes darkened with memories as she continued. “She pushed him around, taunting, telling him he needed to toughen up. Told him if he put his heart out there, he’d better be prepared to have someone stomp it, because that’s what always happened.”

  “He was a little boy. Just a child,” Mitzi murmured.

  “Not after that day.” Betsy’s voice broke.

  “Your mother was a monster.” Mitzi spat the words, tears leaking from her eyes, but she didn’t care.

  Betsy’s gaze searched Mitzi’s face. A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “You love my brother.”

  “Who doesn’t love Keenan?”

  “Before you, he’d never trusted a woman. So hear me on this, Mitzi.” Steel filled Betsy’s voice. “If you hurt my brother, you’ll answer to me.”

  Odd, but the fierceness on Betsy’s face comforted Mitzi. She liked knowing Keenan had a strong ally in his sister.

  “He’s lucky to have you and Ryan in his corner.”

  “A fact we remind him of all the time.”

  As she’d probably intended, Betsy’s quip lightened the mood.

  Mitzi thought of the former bull-riding-champion-turned-attorney. She remembered the stricken look on Betsy’s face the time Mitzi had strode into a party with the man Betsy secretly loved at her side. Yes, she still had some making up to do.

  “Other than friendship, there was never anything between me and your husband,” Mitzi blurted out.

  Betsy waved a dismissive hand. “That was a long time ago, way before Ryan and I got together.”

  “I never slept with him,” Mitzi assured her. “We didn’t even kiss.”

  She’d never thought of Ryan as anything more than a friend. Not like Keenan. With him, friendship had never been enough.

  “Ryan told me,” Betsy said softly. “But I appreciate you wanting to make it clear.”

  “I’d like it if you and I could be friends.”

  “I’d like that, too.” Betsy reached across the table and squeezed Mitzi’s hand. “In fact, I predict we’ll end up being great friends. Which is fortunate, considering my brother is in love with you.”

  Mitzi’s heart leaped even as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Keenan has never, ah, said he loves me.”

  He’d shown it in so many ways. But he hadn’t said the words to her. Not yet, anyway.

  “I know my brother. What he feels is in his eyes every time he looks at you.” Betsy’s lips curved in satisfaction. “I see love in your eyes, as well. I’m happy for it. But please don’t hurt him.”

  “I would never hurt him.” Mitzi opened her mouth then shut it. If her goal was to protect her pride, this would be the time to lie and tell Betsy she wasn’t sure what she felt for Keenan. Even though Mitzi knew without a doubt she was completely and irrevocably in love with him.

  It was time to seize the moment, lay the cards on the table, face up.

  Mitzi had been honest with herself.

  Tonight, she’d be honest with Betsy.

  Then it was time to be honest with Keenan.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mitzi had barely gotten home from Perfect Pizza when her phone rang. She smiled at the readout. “I miss you.”

  For a second silence was all she heard. Then Keenan chuckled. “Do you even know who this is?”

  “Batman, of course.” She lowered her voice to a seductive whisper. “Or should I call you Bruce?”

  He laughed. “For now, why don’t you call me Keenan? And hey, I miss you, too.”

  Mitzi smiled into the phone and dropped onto the sofa. Her mood, which had been partly cloudy only moments before, was now bright and sunny. “How’s it going in Oma-ha?”

  He told her about the flight and the small motel room where he was staying. As they talked about their days, she found comfort in sharing the mundane.

  “I had a sub and chips for dinner,” Keenan said. “I hated missing movie night.”

  “Bitty did her best to keep me company.” Mitzi slanted a glance at the kitten, currently busy washing herself. “But it wasn’t the same. She didn’t laugh once, and it was a really funny movie.”

  “Give her time. She’s just a kitten. Her sense of humor is still developing.”

  “By the way...” Mitzi forced a lighthearted tone. “I ran into your sister when I was picking up the pizza.”

  “Betsy?”

  “You have more than one sister?”

  “Not as far as I know,” he said easily. “Were she and Ryan having a date night?”

  “Actually it was just her. She was picking up a pizza at the same time, so while we waited we sat and talked for a few minutes. We had a nice chat.”

  “What did you talk about?” he asked, and she heard the caution in his voice.

  “Girl stuff mostly.” Mitzi kept her tone light. “A little about men.”

  “Men?” His tone turned wary.

  “I’ll just say we bonded over our mutual admiration of the same man.”

  “Well,” he said after a long moment, “you and Ryan had a history and —”

  “Ryan,” she sputtered. “We weren’t talking about Ry—”

  His laughter stopped her cold.

  Mitzi shook her head and chuckled. “A couple of states away and you can still put one over on me.”

  “You and Betsy haven’t had much to do with each other before.”

  There was a question in his voice. And she had the answer that would put his mind at ease.

  “We’d gotten off on the wrong foot, which was totally my fault,” she admitted. “We’re okay now. In fact I’d say Betsy and I are on the road to becoming good friends.”

  There were a couple of seconds of silence before Keenan spoke, his voice husky. “Glad to hear it.”

  She heard the emotion in his
words and realized their relationship—or lack of one—had troubled him more than he’d let on. Mitzi liked knowing she’d done something that made him happy and something that made her happy, as well.

  As they continued to chat, Mitzi thought about bringing up Gloria but decided why put a downer on his evening. Better to end the call with a little phone sex.

  After all, she’d discovered it was so much fun to get down and dirty with the one you loved. And, since Keenan hadn’t mentioned Gloria, he’d probably forgotten it was his mother’s birthday, anyway.

  * * *

  Keenan lay in the dark motel room and stared at the ceiling, his mind too restless for sleep.

  When Mitzi had told him she and Betsy had mended their fences, it was as if a heavy stone that had been weighing him down had been cast aside. Until that moment Keenan hadn’t realized how much it mattered that the two women he loved most in the world liked each other.

  Now, it was time to forge ahead, to take the next step.

  He knew Mitzi cared. He felt it in her touch. He saw it when she looked at him and her eyes turned soft. But did she love him? Ah, that was the million-dollar question. He thought she did, hoped she did. Because he loved her.

  Truly. Madly. Deeply.

  Such intense emotion made him feel like a first-rate sap.

  Keenan knew, given the chance, he could make Mitzi happy. He believed he understood her better than anyone else. Just as she understood him.

  He hoped she loved him, as well.

  “You’re a fool if you think she wants you.” In the utter stillness, he heard his mother’s voice, dripping with scorn and derision. “You’re nothing. A nobody. A mutt without a pot to pee in.”

  How many times had Gloria said those same words to him when he’d asked a girl on a date? How many times had she flashed that I-told-you-so smirk when one had refused or dumped him?

  You didn’t even make the top ten of Mitzi’s husband list. What makes you suddenly number one?

  This time it was his voice sowing the seeds of doubt.

  Keenan screwed his lids shut. He would not give in to fear. During his three years in prison, he’d learned to fight for what he wanted and to persevere. Though the journey back to freedom had been difficult and filled with setbacks, he hadn’t given up.

  He wouldn’t give up now.

  He would let Mitzi know what was in his heart.

  Where they went from here...would be up to her.

  * * *

  It was early afternoon when Keenan landed in Jackson. Though he wanted to see Mitzi, he knew she’d be tied up with patients for at least three more hours. The positive side was it gave him the opportunity to take care of some overdue business. He raked a hand through his hair.

  It was time for the electric blue to go.

  Keenan leaned comfortably against the wing of the plane that had safely taken him from Wyoming to Nebraska and back, enjoying the feel of the sun against his face. By mid-October there was often snow in Jackson. So far this year the fall had been unseasonably mild.

  Slipping the phone from his jacket pocket, he was scrolling through his contact list when the phone rang.

  After thanking him for making the trip to Nebraska, Steve asked him to stop by the office before he headed for home.

  Home. Was it wrong that the word conjured up an image of Mitzi’s house? Of the kitchen with its striking contrasts of rough and rugged with smooth and polished. Of a great room with rustic beams and glossy wood floor, most of which he’d laid himself. Of a small gray kitten in the arms of a woman who could make his heart melt with just one smile.

  Keenan made his way across the airfield and found Steve standing outside the low-slung building that housed his office, enjoying a cola and the sunshine. “What’s up, boss man?”

  “Good news.” Steve’s normally booming voice sounded extra hearty. “Loretta Van Ness, one of our best clients, is stopping by to discuss increasing the services we provide to her company. If she follows through—and it sounds like a done deal to me—I’d like to assign you to the account.”

  For a second, Keenan could only stare. “Would this be—”

  “Part-time at first. But you’d have regular hours and some benefits. I can see it increasing to full-time in the future. Or, we could add another account and get you close to full-time. Interested?”

  Try as he might, Keenan couldn’t stop the dopey grin. “Very.”

  “I’ll let you know—” Steve’s gaze shifted to behind Keenan, and his smile widened in welcome. “Mrs. Van Ness, we were just talking about you.”

  Turning, Keenan studied the mid-sixties woman with pewter gray hair styled short, an aristocratic face and cool blue eyes. Her navy suit and matching shoes probably cost more than he made in six months.

  She tilted her head. “I’m not sure I like being the subject of idle conversation.”

  The lilt in her voice took the edge from the words.

  “Keenan here is one of our best pilots.” Steve jerked a thumb in his direction. “I was speaking with him about taking over your account. He’ll do right by you.”

  “Keenan?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Resisting the urge to wipe suddenly sweaty palms against his jeans, he extended his hand. “Keenan McGregor. I’m pleased to meet you.”

  The woman’s lily-white hand dropped like a stone to her side even as her gaze flicked over him dismissively, lingering for perhaps an extra beat on his hair. She sniffed as if she smelled something foul.

  Steve froze for a few seconds then began to babble. “Keenan is very involved in the community. He raised almost a thousand dollars by collecting pledges and agreeing to dye his hair blue. It’s part of the Go Blue for a Cure, to raise—”

  “I’m well aware of that particular fund-raiser,” Mrs. Van Ness interrupted, speaking directly to Steve and ignoring Keenan completely. “What you’re apparently not aware of is this man’s mother ran my grandson off the road while he was riding his bike, causing extensive facial trauma. It’s a miracle Anthony wasn’t killed.”

  Keenan hadn’t been in Jackson when a drunken Gloria had smashed her car into a tree, killing herself. He’d heard she’d been driving erratically and narrowly missed hitting a kid on a bike. Until this moment he hadn’t realized the boy had been injured.

  “I will not have anyone associated with that horrid woman fly my cargo or my employees anywhere.” Though the woman’s hands grasped her purse so tightly her knuckles were white, her face remained cool and composed. “As my deceased husband always used to say, the apple never falls far from the tree.”

  A frigid cold swept through Keenan, the chill going straight to the bone. He remained where he stood, stiff as any soldier, the pleasant smile he’d flashed earlier frozen on his lips.

  “Mrs. Van Ness,” Steve protested. “It hardly seems fair to hold—”

  “Let me remind you that there are other charter services in Jackson Hole, Mr. Kowalski.” The woman bit out the words in an imperious tone. “The fact that you even employ this man makes me doubt your good sense. In fact, I may pull all my business. I’ll let you know my decision in that regard tomorrow.”

  Turning on her heel, Mrs. Van Ness returned to her shiny pearl-white Escalade and drove off without a backward glance.

  Keenan stood silent beside Steve as they watched the taillights disappear from view.

  There was apology in Steve’s eyes when he turned to Keenan. “I realize I said the job was yours but—”

  “No worries,” Keenan spoke quickly, his voice gruff. He cleared his throat and tried again. “The client is within her rights to refuse a pilot.”

  “She’ll come around.”

  They both knew that was a lie. Mrs. Van Ness wasn’t going to change her mind. Keenan wasn’t even sure he blamed her. Gloria had hurt h
er grandchild.

  The only question remaining was, if she pushed to get him off the Grand Teton payroll, would Steve succumb to her threats?

  Because Steve Kowalski was a businessman first, Keenan had a feeling he already knew what the answer to that question would be.

  * * *

  Mitzi resisted the urge to pull out her phone and check for messages. Instead she smiled brightly at Dr. Noah Anson, Jackson Hole’s new neurosurgeon.

  Several hours earlier she’d received a brief text from Keenan telling her he’d landed safely and he’d give her a call later. Mitzi hadn’t heard from him since. She’d called him but it had gone straight to voice mail.

  She’d left a detailed message telling him Dr. John Campbell had insisted all the doctors in the practice attend the Jackson Young Professionals meeting this evening. Ben’s father wanted to make sure Dr. Anson was properly welcomed to the community. Mitzi asked Keenan to meet her at the brewery where the event was being held.

  So far, he’d been a no-show.

  Mitzi shoved aside her worry and focused on the man at her side. Tall and lean with hair so dark it might have been black and brilliant blue eyes, Noah wore his hand-tailored suit with the casual elegance of those born to wealth.

  Though he seemed nice enough, Mitzi swore she saw a flash of disapproval in his eyes when he’d noticed the strands of blue in her hair. And, in trying to figure out whom they might know in common, Noah had dropped a significant amount of prominent names.

  Mitzi wished Keenan was here. Afterward, they could laugh about the man’s pompousness, critique the food, then forget it all and make love.

  But he wasn’t here. Temper fought with worry.

  Where the heck was he?

  Wouldn’t she have heard if there’d been a car crash? Mitzi tightened her fingers around the stem of her wineglass. On her way over here from the clinic, she’d tried to reach him a fifth—or was it sixth?—time. Once again her call had gone straight to voice mail. Other than the brief text, she’d heard nothing.

  “Jackson Hole seems like a beautiful place. It’d be nice if I had someone to show me around.”

  Mitzi blinked and realized that in a roundabout way the new doctor was asking her to play tour guide. How would she get out of this one?