by Candis Terry
“Welcome, sugarplum,” Mrs. Wilder called. “And don’t you worry about that old goat. She’s just sayin’ hello.”
He looked down at the farm animal that looked up at him with big eyes and bleated a “Meh-eh-eh.” He’d been to Wilder Ranch several times, but apparently he’d missed the little, brown, four-legged welcoming committee.
“Is it okay if I pet her?” he asked.
“Oh, sure. A little rub right between the horns will make her happy as a debutante at the Sugar Plum Cotillion.”
Mike reached down and, sure enough, the goat leaned into his hand as he gave her a brisk rub. Growing up, he’d never had a pet. Hell, he didn’t even know you could put a goat in that category. It was kind of strange and cool all at the same time.
“Her name’s Miss Giddy,” Jana said. “And I’ll warn you, if she takes a liking to you, she’ll follow you everywhere.”
A chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Hello, Miss Giddy.”
“Meh-eh-eh.”
“Yep. She likes you. Come on in.” Jana waved again. “I’ve got a fresh pot of coffee brewing and some fresh-made sweet-potato biscuits.”
Miss Giddy gave him a sorrowful bleat as he walked away.
“Thank you, Mrs. Wilder, but I already had breakfast.” Mike stepped up onto the veranda and followed her inside the big ranch-style house. The entry walls were lined with framed photos of the Wilder family in all stages of their lives. All smiling happily for the camera. After he’d turned fourteen, his own family had never had a group photo taken. There’d been too many family members missing, and no one had the heart to look at a half-empty reminder.
As he moved through the hall into the kitchen, he couldn’t help wonder how different things might have been had his father started out as a firefighter in Texas instead of the mean streets of L.A.
“Nonsense.” Mrs. Wilder waved him in. “You’re a growing boy. You need to keep up your strength.”
Actually, he was thirty-two and full-grown, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her otherwise when she’d so obviously gone out of her way to be hospitable.
“And don’t you dare call me Mrs. Wilder. It’s Jana to you just like it is to everyone else.” She wiggled her fingers toward the table. “Have a sit and let’s have us a little chat.”
He’d come prepared to work. Whether she wanted him to move manure or sweep out the barn to pay off the charity debt, he didn’t know. But he hadn’t expected to come for breakfast or a chat.
She set a cup in front of him and poured it full of strong, steaming coffee. “I expect you’ve been over to see Jackson and Abby’s new place.”
“I have.” He took a sip, then set the cup back down. “I helped him put in the windows.”
“So you’re familiar with construction?”
“Yes, ma’am. I have a business on the side. I install windows, roofs, floors, drywall, paint. You name it, I do it.”
“Well, aren’t you ambitious.”
“Not sure I’d call it that. When I became a firefighter, I learned that because you get so many consecutive days off, a lot of the guys do side jobs to earn extra money for their families. I just figured it was a good way to keep myself out of trouble.”
“Is getting in trouble something you do often?”
“I’ve had my share. Don’t care to repeat my mistakes if I can help it.” He’d been in the hot seat many times in his life. The one currently below the pockets of his Levi’s was definitely heating up. And by the inquisitive gleam in Jana’s eye, he figured he was about to receive an FBI-style interrogation.
Each time they’d previously met, Jana had been friendly and welcoming. She had a way about her that made everyone feel like family. Him included. But they’d never really had the chance to sit down, just the two of them, and talk. Jackson often laughed and said his mother could pull information out of a dead snail if she had the mind. Mike wasn’t sure about that, but his curiosity was definitely piqued about why she wanted to chat, and why she’d chosen to pay such a pricey sum for his services at the charity auction.
Some of the bachelors up for auction had been scored by beautiful young women looking for a hot date. In fact, when he’d first spied Fiona in the crowd, he’d hoped she’d raise her bid paddle when it came his turn onstage. To his disappointment, she hadn’t. Jackson’s mother had won the bid, and Mike was pretty sure she wasn’t looking for a hot date. Yet with four grown sons who were experts at the ranching business, he couldn’t imagine what she had in mind for a guy who knew zip about cows and goats.
“It’s nice to see someone so industrious,” she said. “All I hear down at the senior center are folks complaining about the lazy younger generation. They say they can’t get their grandkids or even some of their adult children away from the Facebook or something called Candy Crush long enough to get any work done. So I admire a young man such as yourself, who’s willing to put in the hard work necessary to set himself up for the future. That’s something my husband and I always tried to teach our boys.”
Mike let the compliment settle in. From bagging groceries to changing car oil, he’d earned a paycheck from the moment he’d been legally old enough to be put on a payroll. It had been a necessity to help support his family. Not that he minded. And even on his worst days, he still made it to work. Still brought home a paycheck.
He’d even offered to help his younger sisters with their college tuition. In his mind, a college education was money well spent. No way did he want any of them to have to go back to their old way of life in a dangerous neighborhood. Unfortunately, with their current situations, his sisters were proving that to be a challenge. Only his baby sister had stepped up and taken advantage of his offer, and sometime in the next couple of years, he’d be able to call her Dr. Camila Halsey.
“I do my best.” He sipped his coffee and accepted a biscuit from the plate Jana offered. While he bit into the warm buttery treat, she looked him over and smiled.
“I know we haven’t had much of a chance to chat before,” she said. “And I hope you don’t think I’m being nosy, but Jackson told me you were previously married.”
“Yes, ma’am. My ex and I were together for about ten years.”
“What happened?”
“Direct, aren’t you?” He smiled to take the sting off the observation.
She smiled back. “Sugarplum, I’m just getting warmed up. If you ask anyone who knows me, they’ll tell you I’m a meddler. And, well, I guess I am. If meddling means seeing the people I love find happiness.”
“But you hardly know me.”
“I probably know a lot more than you think I do. You can tell a lot about a person by their eyes. And, sugarplum, yours are just about as deep as a fathomless pool. I imagine there’s a lot going on behind all that pretty brown color. And those tiny little crinkles at the corners? To me those read like life lines. Each one stands for a whole lot of hard knocks and heartache.”
“I’ve heard of palm readers.” He chuckled. “But I never knew there was such a thing as an eye-wrinkle reader.”
“Eh, all a palm is going to tell you is whether a person’s a hard worker or not. You got calluses? Damn skippy you’re a hard worker. Hands that are as smooth as a baby’s butt? You either invested in a hand-lotion company or you get all your exercise from pushing the buttons on a TV remote.”
“You do have an interesting way of looking at things.”
“And you’re pretty good at evading them.”
Crinkles, as she called them, formed at the outer corners of her own eyes.
“Me? I’m more direct,” she said. “You might have noticed. So I’ll just get right on back to my original thought.”
“I’m pretty sure I couldn’t stop you if I tried.”
“See.” She pointed at him while another huge smile stretched across her mouth. “You’re smart too. So tell me, don’t you deserve to find happiness like everyone else?”
He couldn’t stop the bark of cynicism that leaped from hi
s throat.
He didn’t deserve shit, let alone happiness.
“Just as I figured.” Leaning back in her chair, Jana lifted her coffee cup and sipped. “Got a good place to start? Or should we just go with you telling me what happened that a nice young man such as yourself got himself hitched to the wrong woman?”
“Not much to tell really.” Unfortunately, the shrug he gave released very little pressure off that can of worms. “We were young. Rash. And I put a ring on her finger for all the wrong reasons.”
“A baby?”
“No baby.” A familiar ache squeezed his heart. “Always wanted one, but I guess God knew better than we did.”
“Don’t you worry.” She gave the top of his hand a little pat. “The perfect woman is still out there waiting for you.”
Mike hated to be the one to burst her bubble, but there was no one out there waiting for him. Mainly because the day he’d walked out of that divorce courtroom, he’d counted it as strike three. He was out. As a result, he’d locked up his heart along with his hopes and dreams of the whole loving-family-white-picket-fence scenario.
“It’s a very nice place you have here.” He might be pessimistic about the future, but he kicked ass at conversational detours. He leaned forward, setting both elbows on Jana’s nice sunflower tablecloth, and fed her a little of her own interrogation tactics. “So tell me . . . with four sons–who are more than capable of doing what needs to be done around here than me–why did you shell out good money at that charity auction for my help?”
“Because, sugarplum, I have bigger plans for you.” She leaned in and scorched him with a tenacious glare. “And not a single one of my boys can fulfill this particular . . . desire.”
Up to that point he hadn’t been nervous.
All that changed with one ominous word.
Desire.
Holy. Shit.
Chapter 3
The little town of Sweet looked like it stepped right out of a storybook. Like the cuteness fairy fluttered down Main Street, touching her magical wand to all the storefronts, and blessing them with glittery fairy adorableness.
At each corner, huge barrels overflowed with vibrant bouquets of flowers hardy enough to handle the blazing sun. The Victorian gazebo, pond, creek, and decorative cast-iron benches beneath the wide-reaching branches of the giant oaks in Town Square looked inviting enough for Mike to want to stop his car and sit for a spell.
Stores like Wilder and Sons Hardware and Feed, Goody Gum Drops Candy Store, and Harvest Moon Mercantile had been completely renovated by My New Town, the now-defunct cable makeover show. When former designer and show host Charli Brooks—now the wife of Reno Wilder—quit, the ratings hit rock bottom, and they canceled all further episodes. A shame, Mike thought. They—or Charli—had done amazing work.
If not for the genuine appeal of the place, the entire town would be almost too saccharine to believe.
Mike didn’t mind all the charm. He knew that the portrait of Sweet wasn’t just a movie-set façade. Behind the walls of those buildings and homes, there dwelled a community with heart and dedication to preserving a Mayberry RFD way of life. And for a man who’d grown up in the hell of a gang-dominated community, where graffiti was the height of artistic culture and blood bathed the streets and sidewalks, he’d be the last one to complain.
Ironically, the sun dipped low in the sky as Mike turned onto Sunshine Lane and headed toward the address Jana had jotted down on a “Hot Mess” sticky note. The woman had made him nervous as hell with that whole desire comment until she spelled out exactly what she wanted him to do.
Fortunately, it was far from the crazy things he’d imagined.
Unfortunately, it threw him right in the path of disaster.
He should have refused. He should have found a way to talk his way out of the corner she’d backed him into. He should have offered to shovel shit or some other filthy ranch job that needed to be done. But Jana Wilder possessed that same damn persuasive trait her sons had when they wanted something done their way. He could have sat at her kitchen table all day making up excuses why he couldn’t carry out her desire, and his efforts would have been for naught.
Jana Wilder was the Bruce Lee of verbal judo. And with her being so nice to him, there was no way he could tell her no.
After parking his Durango at the curb in front of the little yellow cottage with the white picket fence, he stepped up onto the porch, took a deep breath, and knocked.
It took several minutes before the door opened.
It took one quick scan of his eyes and a mere two seconds for his jaw to unhinge.
In the doorway of that quaint little house stood Fiona Wilder, balancing on a pair of wooden crutches. Devoid of makeup and with her silky blond hair pulled back in a barrette, the nasty bruise and stitches near her hairline were prevalent. The swelling above the compression wrap around her injured ankle delivered a wallop of compassion straight to the center of his chest.
Still, without conscious effort, his inner caveman took over, and his eyes took a slow ride down her tall, curvy body. Down over the snug white Bon Jovi tank top. Down over the pair of Daisy Dukes that molded to her slim hips. Down over her long, shapely legs.
Mother Nature had been very, very generous with what she’d doled out in Fiona’s direction.
And he really needed to stop staring.
“Mike?”
He lifted his gaze as her head tilted quizzically. And then she gave him that smile. The one that warmed him from the inside out. The one that dared to suggest she might be a little bit happy to see him. The one that could take him down like a house of cards.
“What are you doing here?” Her tone was jam-packed with undeniable perplexity.
Okay, maybe not so happy to see him.
“I . . . um . . .”
She blinked those baby blues, and somehow he managed to roll his tongue back up in his mouth. “I have your boxes in my SUV.”
“My boxes?”
He nodded. “The ones we stored at the fire station?”
“Oh.” She shook her head. “Wow. I totally forgot about them. As you can see, I’ve got more than I’ll ever need right now.”
Behind her, the small living room was stacked high with cardboard containers. Small pathways had been created in between to allow space to maneuver through the room.
“How did you even know where to find me? Jackson?”
“Mrs. Wilder.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “She asked if I could bring the boxes over to you.”
“Ah.” Enlightenment dawned. “So that’s how you’re paying off your debt from the charity auction?”
“She asked me not to tell you. But I couldn’t imagine popping up at your door and pretending like I just happened by.”
“No, that probably wouldn’t have worked.”
“Plus,” he said, “I’m not a very good liar.”
“Well, that’s an X in your good-guy column.” She flashed another sweet smile. “I’d planned on picking them up later this week, after I’d settled in a bit more and was a little less gimpy. But obviously in the mix of things, I forgot.”
“You do look like you could use some rest.” At her instant frown, he backpedaled. “No offense. I didn’t mean you looked bad or–”
“No worries. I guess you might as well come inside.” She shifted her crutches to allow him room to enter the house. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the help, but . . .”
“You weren’t expecting company,” he said.
“I do always try to put my best foot forward.” She glanced around the room. “Obviously, this maze of boxes, my messy appearance, and my bandaged foot, aren’t it.”
Was she kidding?
To him she looked like a million and a half bucks.
“I’ve moved before. I know how it is.” He followed her inside the house, noticing the daisies he’d given her sitting in a glass jar on the coffee table. “But I’ve never had a car accident in the process. I say y
ou get extra points.”
“You’re sweet to say so.”
Sweet?
If she had even an inkling of the sweet thoughts going through his head, she’d use her good foot to boot his ass out the door.
A deeper look around the room indicated that though the furniture seemed to have been arranged, everything else was in a state of chaos. It would take weeks for her to get everything unpacked and put away in her less-than-agile situation. Jana had been smart to call in the debt he owed to get someone to help.
“Where have you been sitting?” he asked, noticing a lack of places to land.
“A kitchen chair.”
“You should be elevating and icing that ankle.”
“I should be doing a lot of things. Mostly, I’ve been on the phone with the insurance company all morning, then trying to figure out how to get anything accomplished with these crutches as an accessory.”
“You wear them well.” Yeah, okay, so he used the wooden sticks as another excuse to let his gaze wander down to her long, tanned, bare legs again. So sue him.
“I’m thinking of decorating them with pink zebra Duck Tape.”
“Now there’s a fashion statement.” He took another quick glance at the chaos in the room. “How about if I go get those boxes and see if I can’t make you some room to move around in here.”
“I’d really appreciate it. But I’m sure you’re busy and don’t have time to do all that. If you’ll just bring in the boxes, I can get the rest figured out. Then Jana can find another way for you to pay off your debt that will actually benefit her.”
“Well, I could do that. But with all the other disgusting jobs the woman threatened me with, I’d much prefer this one. If you don’t mind.”
Her teeth snagged her bottom lip, and her eyes searched his face. He didn’t know what she was looking for, but he knew he needed to overcome whatever reservations she had.
“I promise I’m not Marvin the Masher. You’re safe with me.”
“Am I?”
He gave her a nod.
Effortlessly, she brought out his protective nature. Not that she was incapable of taking care of herself. He had no doubt she was a strong woman who obviously did well on her own. The feelings that took over when he looked into her eyes were ones he’d never experienced before. But they were ones he had to get under control. Fast.
