The Best Blind Date in Texas

by Victoria Chancellor

  She flung open the door after reading the rest of the message. “Gray! I’ve got to get to county hospital. One of my patients is there for an emergency procedure, and my father can’t be reached.” He’d probably forgotten his beeper again. He said he didn’t like those “newfangled devices.”

  Gray slammed the trunk, his expression serious. “I’ll get you there as quickly as possible. Do you have a cell phone?”

  “No.” She hadn’t gotten a new one yet. The phone she’d used in Fort Worth had been provided by the practice.

  “Use mine. Maybe you can find out more information.”

  “Thanks.” She accepted the small, state-of-the-art device and entered the clinic’s number as Gray steered the Lexus toward the interstate. Hopefully, Gladys was still answering the phone. If not, she’d call the hospital directly.

  “I’m sorry to ruin your afternoon,” she said to Gray as she counted the rings.

  “No problem,” he said, reaching over and grasping her hand. “I understand about work coming first.”

  Thankful for his understanding, Amy settled back into her seat and watched the buildings of San Antonio pass by, along with other cars along Interstate 35 as they headed north. Gray was an excellent driver; she couldn’t have gotten to the hospital any faster—unless, of course, she’d been in Ranger Springs instead of shopping in San Antonio.

  But she wouldn’t feel guilty for taking time off. Doctors had private lives, too. Helen’s grandson would get excellent emergency care at the county hospital, Amy knew, until she could arrive in thirty-five to forty minutes.

  As Gray followed her directions and pulled into the emergency entrance, she placed her hand on his arm. “Thank you so much. I’m sorry you got drafted to emergency service.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Just go help your patient. I’ll see you later.”

  “I’ll get a ride home with Helen or someone.”

  Gray smiled, then leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. The kiss was fleeting, so light she shouldn’t have reacted strongly to the touch. But she did. Her pulse pounded hard and her breathing increased as she grasped the door handle.

  “Go,” Gray said, and she did, fleeing toward the hospital entrance and her waiting patient.

  Chapter Six

  As Gray settled into the molded plastic chair with a “fresh” cup of hospital coffee, he congratulated himself for his sterling behavior the past two weeks. As promised, he’d kept his hands—and other parts of his anatomy—to himself. Well, he silently corrected, except for that brief kiss this afternoon. Amy tempted him to forget the agreement, but when he looked into her clear blue eyes, he knew he couldn’t disappoint her. She was depending on him to uphold his end of their deal, and he’d already pushed the bounds of their relationship by asking her to San Antonio for the afternoon.

  He’d simply wanted to spend more time with her. He’d thought of little else during his leisure hours, with images of her face or snatches of her laughter drifting into his consciousness when he should have been concentrating on business. His preoccupation with Amy was a bad sign; he didn’t want to become obsessed with the woman who was saving him from more blind dates. The problem was that he’d never had a similar relationship with another woman.

  He wanted to call their bond a friendship, but he wasn’t sure if that was accurate. Did friends feel this mind-numbing attraction to each other? He’d had some female friends in college; he had female business associates with whom he was friendly. He’d never felt tempted to pull them into his arms and kiss them senseless.

  Shifting on the hard seat, he wondered what she was doing now. She’d rushed into the emergency room, looking for the boy. He admired her dedication; he’d identified the same single-mindedness in himself. The difference was that his pursuit of new technology or additional business opportunities wasn’t life or death. Amy’s education and inclination toward medicine had given her the opportunity to save or significantly improve the lives of her patients.

  Or maybe, he thought as he watched her walk down the hospital corridor toward the waiting room, her arm supporting the shoulders of a thin, worried woman, she sometimes made others feel better. Not because of medicine or healing, but because they trusted her knowledge and character. She might not be the surgeon who removed the boy’s appendix, but she was the person the family wanted beside him when he was ailing. They trusted she’d see the right decisions were made in an environment foreign to most people.

  He also trusted her, he realized. He couldn’t say the same about too many people—just a few friends and a couple of business associates. He’d depended on himself for years, hiring the best employees and hoping they honored their confidentiality agreements. His high-tech products depended on getting a unique product to the market, which had been the U.S. government but was now expanding to include consumer products.

  At one time, he’d trusted Connie. She’d been his wife, and before that, his college sweetheart. He’d loved her, but that hadn’t been enough. His feelings hadn’t compensated for the long hours and dedication to Grayson Industries. Her deception had been a total surprise. She’d never even hinted she wanted out of their marriage.

  “How are you?”

  He looked up into Amy’s blue eyes. Realizing he was nearly crushing the cup of lukewarm coffee, he placed it carefully on the table and stood up. “I’m fine. Was that Mrs. Kaminsky you were with?”

  “Yes. She headed for the pay phones to make a call.” Amy ran a hand through her hair in a weary gesture. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”

  “I didn’t mind.”

  She frowned, her head cocked to one side. “You looked angry when I walked up.”

  Gray shook his head. “Not about you. I was thinking of something else. Something long past.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  She stood in front of him, her gaze questioning. He knew she’d never push for details, but suddenly, he wanted to tell her something about his feelings.

  “I was thinking of my ex-wife. She had an affair with my best friend. That’s what I meant when I said the marriage was messy, not the divorce. She betrayed me, she wanted out but she didn’t want a scandal. I gave her a small settlement, but she didn’t get any part of my greatest asset, my business.”

  “I’m sorry you had to go through the divorce, though. The whole process must have been painful.”

  He shook his head. “I’m sure I was partially at fault. I was married to my company. Grayson Industries was my mistress, in a way. I suppose Connie believed she deserved the same level of attention from someone.” He shrugged. “If it wasn’t me, it would be someone else.”

  “Sounds sad for both of you.”

  “It’s old news,” he said, dismissing the conversation. He didn’t want to talk about Connie, marriage, or divorce. He wrapped an arm around Amy’s shoulders. “Are you finished with your patient?”

  “Yes. Matthew came out of surgery just fine. His grandmother determined the symptoms were more serious than an upset stomach before the appendix ruptured.”

  “Good. Then how about I take you dinner? I’m starved.”

  “I’ll bet you are,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “Hospital coffee isn’t the most tasty or nutritious snack.”

  “I’ll agree. Let’s see if we can find something more tasty and filling.” In a place that had comfortable chairs and more subtle lighting.

  And lots of people around so he didn’t forget his dates with Amy were supposed to be for show, not for real.

  AMBROSE WHEATLEY’S STEP felt a bit lighter as he headed for the Four Square Café and lunch with Thelma and Joyce. His broken ankle was mending nicely, but his heart soared beyond the restrictions of the walking cast or the cane he still had to use. Amy Jo’s dates with Grayson Phillips were the best medicine he’d received in a month of Sundays. That young man was just what the doctor ordered—quite literally!

  He chuckled at his own joke as he walked t
o Thelma and Joyce’s table.

  “You’re in a good mood today,” Joyce said, a glint of interest in her pretty green eyes.

  “And why wouldn’t I be?” he answered as he pulled out a chair next to the beautician and settled in for lunch. “I’m havin’ a meal with my two favorite ladies, my daughter is datin’ the most eligible bachelor in town and I’m feelin’ fit as a fiddle.”

  “You won’t be if you don’t stay off that leg,” Thelma reminded him.

  “You sound just like my daughter,” he complained.

  “Oh, would that be your daughter, the doctor?”

  Joyce giggled. “She got you on that one, Ambrose.”

  “I’m in too good a mood to let a little thing like a broken ankle bother me. Why, life is darn near perfect! Christmas is almost here, I might get me a son-in-law next year, and I’m enjoyin’ the company of the prettiest lady in town—no offense, Thelma.”

  “None taken, Ambrose. I’m just glad your daughter didn’t take as much time as you did to add some romance to her life.”

  “Are you callin’ me a pokey old coot?”

  “I never said a thing about you being an old coot.”

  Ambrose chuckled. “I don’t hear any complaints from the other side of the table,” he said, looking at the lady he’d escorted around town for the past few weeks. Joyce was as cute as could be. As different from his dearly departed wife as night and day, but she’d been gone a good number of years. Talking to Amy had reminded him that it was about time he got on with his own life.

  “What’s the special for lunch today, ladies?” he asked, reaching for a folded paper menu. His appetite for food and for life had jumped higher than a flea on a hound dog since his little girl moved back to town.

  JUST A WEEK BEFORE Christmas, Amy sat on her black leather sofa and worried about how she was going to approach Gray regarding their relationship. Their supposedly pretend dating relationship. Since the emergency appendectomy, he’d behaved more like a real “boyfriend” than the man she’d conspired with to deceive the town.

  She smoothed the pine green jersey dress over her legs, resisting the urge to pleat the soft fabric. She felt as fidgety as a three-year-old at Sunday church service, but she was determined neither Gray nor her father would know of her nervousness.

  She should have kept the relationship uncomplicated by emotions. What was wrong with her? She had to focus or become forever lost somewhere between pretend and real, in a dimension with no past or future.

  Except there was always a future. She’d learned that lesson as a child, when life had been going along so well. An idyllic community, two loving parents and lots of friends. Then one day everything had changed. Just one phone call and they’d rushed to the hospital. Not long afterward, her father had hugged her tight and told her that her mother was gone, the victim of a car accident. Gone, just like that. One minute Amy had been playing in her friend’s yard in the warm sunshine; the next she’d been a child who would never see her mother again, or feel her strong, supportive hugs.

  Oh, how she wanted life to stay constant. How she longed for the peace and contentment that came in the unchanging tempo of small-town life.

  The sound of Gray’s car in her driveway just before seven o’clock shook her out of the dark memories. They were due that evening at the community center for carols, punch, cookies and a visit with “Santa,” also known as Dr. Ambrose Wheatley. The Christmas program provided lots of fun for children of all ages. She’d volunteered to keep the cookie trays stocked with all kinds of homemade goodies provided by ladies from the community.

  As soon as she’d realized she was attending the program, she’d hesitated only a few minutes before calling Gray. First, her instincts had told her to tell him about the event, then ask him to escort her. Second, she wanted him beside her as the children crawled onto “Santa’s” lap and told him their secrets. And last of all, she knew the merry matchmakers—as she and Gray had started called her father, Thelma and Joyce—would expect to see her there with Gray.

  So tonight they would appear together in front of the town as a happy couple. Later, they needed to talk in private about the direction of their relationship. She was very concerned that both of them had forgotten why they were dating.

  “YOU TWO TAKE A BREAK,” Thelma ordered, taking the tin of cookies from Amy’s hands. “Have some punch, get a breath of fresh air. Whatever you young people enjoy.”

  Gray smiled at the older woman’s opinion that he was still a “young person.” After a long day at the office, conference calls and an evening spent beside a beautiful woman he’d rather have all to himself, he didn’t feel so young. He felt downright mature. Selfish, maybe, but hardly the type of carefree boy who could enjoy a Christmas party without thinking about how the green jersey hugged Amy’s curves and set off her dark, shining hair.

  A sprig of mistletoe over the entrance to the church’s community center beckoned. He’d like to escort her to the bit of ribbon-bedecked greenery, take her in his arms and kiss her until the entire town knew how much he wanted her.

  But that type of physical display would embarrass Amy, who needed to develop and maintain her professional reputation. She’d told him her medical practice had improved since they’d been dating, so at least one of her goals had been accomplished. He’d certainly enjoyed a respite from Thelma and Joyce’s persistent efforts to get him matched with the right date. Everyone assumed that he’d found the perfect woman for him. At least for now.

  “Your father seems happy,” he said to her as they walked away from the buffet table.

  “That might have something to do with Mrs. Claus,” Amy said, looking at Joyce. She’d obviously sprayed something on her strawberry blond hair to make it gray for tonight. The red-and-green dress and white apron, coupled with a jaunty white ruffled cap, made her look just like Santa’s most important helper.

  “They make a cute couple.”

  “Funny,” Amy said, giving him a crooked grin, “they say the same thing about us.”

  They’re right, Gray wanted to say, but knew this wasn’t the time. Amy was trying much harder than he was to keep their relationship impersonal. Either that, or she simply wasn’t as interested in him as he was in her. Given her response whenever they were alone and when he’d kissed her, he didn’t think so. He hoped she’d see the advantages of changing their relationship from pretend dating to something more mutually satisfying.

  “I’d love a cola rather than any more of that sweet punch,” Amy said. “Let’s see if the machine is working.”

  They headed for the dimly lit hallway in back of the kitchen. “You’re probably tired,” Gray said. “You’ve been on your feet on that hard floor for over an hour.”

  “I’m used to it. Doctors often have to stand for surgery or exams. But you’ve put in a full day, too.”

  He produced a handful of coins and Amy selected two soft drinks from the machine.

  “Let’s grab a seat on the steps,” she said.

  Tucking her skirt around her legs, she settled on the step and brushed off the space beside her. “When I was a little girl, I used to hide out here during some of the sermons.”

  “Not all of them? I played hooky from church on a regular basis.”

  “No,” she said, her eyes focusing on something he couldn’t see, something far in her past. “My father sang in the choir, so I usually sat with friends and their families. When the minister talked about death, I didn’t want to hear the words. I know they were meant to be comforting, but I missed my mother too much to hear such abstract thoughts. All I could think about was how alone I felt.”

  “You never had brothers or sisters, right?”

  “Right. I think my mother would have liked more children, but I was all they had.”

  “I was an only child, too. I know how that feels.”

  “Did you have imaginary friends?” Amy asked, turning her head toward him.

  “Of course. Sometimes I had an entire fan
tasy baseball team. We went to the Little League championships more than once.”

  Amy chuckled. “I had a big brother who went on grand adventures with me. Sometimes he made me feel less alone at night, when my dad had to go out for an emergency.”

  “He left you alone?”

  “I was at least twelve then,” she explained, “when most girls are baby-sitting for other children. Besides, this is a small town, where crime was practically nonexistent. I wasn’t too young to stay at home, but I was kind of a baby about being alone at night.”

  “I don’t think you were a baby.”

  “Thanks, but looking back, I really was. I wasn’t worried about somebody breaking in to the house, or something bad happening to me. I was worried about my father, and how I’d feel if I lost him too.”

  Gray placed an arm around Amy’s shoulders. “I think I understand. I didn’t have the same experience, of course, since both my parents were alive, but my mother seemed to worry excessively.”

  “About herself?”

  “No, about me. Unlike your mother, I don’t think she wanted any more children. She put all her eggs in one basket, so to speak, and she definitely guarded that basket.”

  “I suppose overprotective is better than complacent.”

  “That’s a very adult way to look at it. As a child, I wasn’t nearly that objective.”

  Amy chuckled again. “I understand. Sometimes it’s difficult for a parent to let their child have the freedom to either succeed or fail on their own.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Which is probably why you established your own company as an adult.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it, but you may be right.”

  “We only children have our own experiences, don’t we?”

  He looked into her eyes, which appeared a dark indigo in the low light of the hallway. They had more in common than he’d once thought. He felt a closeness to Amy he hadn’t felt in ages, if ever. Without thinking, he tightened his arm around her shoulders.