Grinning wide, she put in her ear pods, and knowing Kent was at work, she speed-dialed Cliff to tell him the whole story about her long-lost father.
If she timed it right, she’d make it home before the administration office at the city college closed. She’d stop there first since Gerda would be at city hall.
Good thing she’d kept all of her options open before she’d left town on Friday.
* * *
Desi parked the car in the garage right before five that afternoon. She rushed inside the house to tell her grandmother how much she loved her and to get cleaned up before Kent came home from work.
Gerda wasn’t home. Obviously she was still working at city hall today like every other Monday. She wandered to the kitchen and found a note on the island and next to it an empty medicine cup with dried antacid inside. Desi picked up the note, first glancing around the grand old kitchen she’d come to love, the heart of the house where she and Gerda met up each and every morning. She was glad to be home. So, so glad.
“I have some important town business to tend to. Don’t wait up for me. Love, G.”
Overwhelmed with fondness for her grandmother, Desi smiled as her eyes brimmed with tears. She picked up the empty medicine cup, worrying it might not be enough to deal with the burden of being a mayor with a big town secret and wondering what more they might find out about their pirate problem tonight.
She dashed upstairs and showered, then put on the colorful sundress she knew Kent liked, judging by the way he’d quickly ripped it off her one night last week. He usually got home around sixish on Mondays, but with his busy clinic she couldn’t count on it. She took time to put on makeup and the sparkly pink lipstick Kent liked to stare at whenever she wore it…right before he’d kiss it off her.
There were a million things she wanted to share with Kent, but how should she approach him? She went outside and sat on the front porch on her favorite wicker seat with the purple-paisley-patterned pillow, needing time to gather her thoughts. Way off in the distance, over the homes, buildings and train station down by the docks, and under the long arching bridge to Washington, she glimpsed a section of sparkling teal-colored Columbia River. She’d never get tired of the view.
A bicycle whizzed by on the sidewalk, shaking her out of her thoughts. It was Steven, riding like the wind on his two-wheeler to God knew where. Her tummy jumped. Noticing her, he hit his brake and laid a skid mark on the sidewalk.
“Cool. Did you see that?” he asked, as if nothing had changed.
“That was something, all right. You planning on becoming a stunt man?”
“Nah. I’m gonna be a marine biologist and a famous musician. Where’ve you been?”
The kid always slayed her with his innocent wit. “I’ve been looking for my father.”
“Why’d you want to do that?”
Desi shrugged.
“Steven!” From the front door, Kent’s voice cut through her peace. Adrenaline fired scattershot inside her chest. He must have gotten home while she was showering.
“Coming. Desi’s home!” Steven threw his leg over the bicycle seat and prepared to head back. “See ya,” he said with certainty.
Desi stood even as her stomach dropped to what seemed like her toes. She hadn’t a clue how to say everything she needed to tell Kent. He saw her and stepped outside, walking her way with assured steps. She fought off the urge to run and jump into his arms, and by his slowing pace, she figured she’d made the right decision in holding back. The man must need some extra time to work out all his thoughts and what he planned to say. Just like she did.
They were within three feet of each other. His cautious expression masked the handsome curves and angles of his face.
She couldn’t hold her thoughts inside another second. “I love you,” she blurted, diving point-blank into the heart of everything.
Those blue-as-the-Columbia-River eyes reacted to her words by widening almost imperceptibly. His mouth followed with a twitch at the corner.
“Can you forgive me for putting you through this?” She’d hit her stride now, her long list of things to tell him working their way out of her mouth through a tunnel from her heart. “Will you please trust me now when I say I intend to stay in Heartlandia?”
They were arm’s length apart. She lifted her hands for him to take, but instead his hands came from beneath and merely touched the tips of her fingers as if testing if she were real. She wanted to grab him and never let go, but she understood his hesitation. She’d hurt him. Deeply.
“Did he show?”
She nodded.
“And…”
“It was okay. I’ll tell you about it sometime. So do you trust me now?”
“If I trust you this time, what insurance do I have you won’t leave again, later?”
Normally, she loved it when he played hard to get, but right now it irritated her. “You want proof?”
“Damn right I do.” His hands had come to rest on his hips, like a pouting Nordic god.
She’d take that challenge.
“I’ll be right back.” Desi rushed up the walkway and the steps and into the house, knowing Kent watched her every move. “Don’t move.” She’d also noticed his immediate reaction to the dress when his gaze had started at her shoulders and followed all the way down to her sandaled feet. Good call on the dress!
“Did you get a note from your father or something?” he called out in an acerbic tone.
Just before she went inside the house, she made an exaggerated and playful turn. “Nice one, Larson. You been taking comedy lessons from Steven?”
He bit his lower lip rather than smile, then stared at her long and hard, waiting.
As she ran up the stairs to her bedroom, she marveled how his words would have hurt her if he’d said them before she’d gone to Portland, but right now his comment rolled off her back.
She’d finally figured out that she was good enough just the way she was. That she was exactly what he needed. She’d also learned who she was, imperfections and all, and who she loved and where she belonged and what she wanted to be and who she wanted to be with. And because of all those things, she could understand his hurt and anger about her leaving. His cutting remark just now came from being hurt, plain and simple. She’d walked away from him, and he’d been wiser than her, knowing everything she could possibly want or need had been right under her nose. Yet she couldn’t see it. Not then.
She shuffled through the piles of papers on her desk. If she played her cards right, she and Kent would have plenty of tiffs down the road, because wasn’t that part of being a couple? Working things out? She grinned. Making up would always be the fun part.
There it was. She’d thrown the printout on the desk last Thursday, and when she’d paid today they’d given her a receipt, which she’d stapled to it. She grabbed the paper and her cell phone. She’d promised Cliff a final answer by the end of happy hour today.
Stepping outside, cell phone to her ear, she saw the look of confusion on Kent’s face as she walked toward him. His brows shot together and the corner of his mouth hitched high. It made her smile even wider, and she approached Kent with the confidence of a model walking the runway. She held up a finger when Kent started to ask a question. One moment, she indicated. Keep him waiting, but not for long.
“Hello, Cliff? Hey, it’s Desi. Okay, I’m in. I’m going to take the job at your restaurant.”
“So li’l bit finally came to her senses,” Cliff said in his droll manner.
“For the record, I expect to work for more than just tips.”
“You got it. See you this Friday.”
“See you then.” She shut down her cell phone and dropped it into the large pocket on her full skirt. “See?” she said, engaging and holding Kent’s gorgeous stare. “I just took that job. Can’t very well go traipsing off here and there and hold down a job, too, can I?”
He stepped closer, looking much more convinced with a simmering expression taking hold and pro
mising to soon change to smoldering. “No, you can’t.”
In her other hand, between her thumb and index finger, she flapped the paper printout in the air. “And I have more proof.”
Now looking more relaxed by the instant, Kent played along. Without saying a word, he gestured with his fingers for her to come closer. His wish was her command. She stepped forward and tossed the paper at him.
“That’s my enrollment form for twelve units at Heartlandia City College for the fall semester.” He caught it with the finesse of a highly paid athlete. “I’ll be majoring in art design with a minor in African-American studies. How about that?”
Kent took one glance at the list of classes and dropped the paper in order to take her into his arms. They hugged as if they hadn’t seen each other in a year. Damn, he felt great. She wanted to tell him how excited she was to finally start college, but his incoming kiss stole her words.
I rest my case.
His mouth felt like a little piece of heaven on her lips. She went up on tiptoes and folded her arms around his shoulders, her hands caressing his neck. After a long and thorough welcome home, he pulled away.
“Now you’ll be the one painting those nude models in the Life Art class, instead of modeling for them.”
She nipped his chin and caught the corner of his mouth with a quick kiss, then, for the benefit of Steven being within earshot, she whispered into the shell of Kent’s ear, “From now on, the only nude modeling I’ll do is for you.”
That got the exact reaction she’d hoped for. His second wave of kisses traced across her jaw and cheek, soon centering on her mouth again. She angled her head in a new direction to better capture his lips. His tongue had already shifted to come play with me mode.
“Wow, twelve whole units,” Steven said nearby, having retrieved the paper and examined it. “What are ‘units’?”
Laughter cut their escalating make-out session short. Steven stood there waving the paper around, a perplexed look on his face.
“‘Units’ are what each class in college counts as. Twelve units equal four classes,” Desi said. She held back on her need to explain to Kent that she’d decided to start at a reasonable pace and maybe take more classes in her second semester. Surely he’d understand.
“Does this mean you’ll have lots of homework like me?”
Desi’s eyes stayed trained on the man she loved as she answered Steven. “Yes, I’m going to have lots and lots of homework.” She kissed Kent again, but only quickly. When she pulled back, his intense gaze let her know there would also be lots of making up to do for their lost weekend.
Warmth fanned out across her body, a response she’d have to get used to, being around Kent Larson day in and day out.
Steven grabbed her hand and then his father’s. “Do you guys have to kiss so much? That’s gross.”
“Get used to it,” Kent said as they walked together toward his house. “Stay for dinner with us?” He squeezed her hand.
“Love to. Gerda’s running a council meeting. Won’t be home until late.” By the quick, satisfied glance he gave, he’d picked up on her hidden meaning. She offered her version of a Mona Lisa smile.
As Kent headed off toward the kitchen, and Steven ran for the keyboard, she followed the boy and helped him with his music lesson.
From the kitchen, she heard Kent call out, “Sandwiches okay?”
“Yes!” Steven said, as if having a sandwich for dinner was an extra-special treat.
“Fine with me,” she chimed in. Who cared what he served? Everything tasted great when you were in love anyway.
Kent continued to bang around in the kitchen, and Steven showed Desi how he’d embellished his latest piano piece with some fancy finger work.
She took it all in, marveling how everything felt just right. Couldn’t be more perfect.
Just like she’d always dreamed her first real home with her newfound family would be.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from MILLION-DOLLAR MAVERICK by Christine Rimmer.
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Prologue
January 15
On the ten-year anniversary of the day he lost everything, Nate Crawford got out of bed at 3:15 a.m. He grabbed a quick shower and filled a big thermos with fresh-brewed coffee.
Outside in the yard, his boots crunched on the frozen ground and the predawn air was so cold it seared his lungs when he sucked it in. He had to scrape the rime of ice off his pickup’s windshield, but the stars were bright in the wide Montana sky and the cloudless night cheered him a little. Clear weather meant he should make good time this year. He climbed in behind the wheel and cranked the heater up high.
He left the ranch at a quarter of four. With any luck at all, he would reach his destination before night fell again.
But then, five miles north of Kalispell, he spotted a woman on the far side of the road. She wore a moss-green, quilted coat and skinny jeans tucked into lace-up boots. And she stood by a mud-spattered silver-gray SUV hooked up to a U-Haul trailer. With one hand, she held a red gas can. With the other, she was flagging him down.
Nate grumbled a few discouraging words under his breath. He had a long way to go, and the last thing he needed was to lose time playing Good Samaritan to some woman who couldn’t be bothered to check her fuel gauge.
Not that he was even tempted to drive by and leave her there. A man like Nate had no choice when it came to whether or not to help a stranded woman. For him, doing what needed doing was bred in the bone.
He slowed the pickup. There was no one coming either way, so he swung the wheel, crossed the center line and pulled in behind the U-Haul on the far shoulder.
The woman came running. Her bright-striped wool beanie had three pom-poms, one at the crown and one at the end of each tie. They bounced merrily as she ran. He leaned across the seats and shoved open the door for her. A gust of icy air swirled in.
Framed in the open door, she held up the red gas can. Breathlessly, she asked, “Give a girl a lift to the nearest gas station?” It came out slightly muffled by the thick wool scarf she had wrapped around the bottom half of her face.
Nate was known for his smooth-talking ways, but the cold and his reluctance to stop made him curt. “Get in before all the heat gets out.”
Just like a woman, she chose that moment to hesitate. “You’re not an ax murderer, are you?”
He let out a humorless chuckle. “If I was, would I tell you so?”
She widened her big dark eyes at him. “Now you’ve got me worried.” She said it jokingly.
He had no time for jokes. “Trust your instincts and do it fast. My teeth are starting to chatter.”
She tipped her head to the side, studying him, and then, at last, she shrugged. “All right, cowboy. I’m taking a chance on you.” Grabbing the armrest, she hoisted herself up onto the seat. Once there, she set the gas can on the floor of the cab, shut the door and stuck out her hand. “Callie Kennedy. On my way to a fresh start in the beautiful small town of Rust Creek Falls.”
“Nate Crawford.” He gave her mittened hand a shake. “Shooting Star Ranch. It’s a couple of miles outside of Rust Creek—and didn’t you just drive through Kalispell five miles back?”
Pom-poms danced as she nodded. “I did, yes.”
&n
bsp; “I heard they have gas stations in Kalispell. Lots of ’em.”
She gave a low laugh. “I should have stopped for gas, I know.” She started unwinding the heavy scarf from around her face. He watched with more interest than he wanted to feel, perversely hoping he wouldn’t like what he saw. But no. She was as pretty as she was perky. Long wisps of lustrous seal-brown hair escaped the beanie to trail down her flushed cheeks. “I thought I could make it without stopping.” Head bent to the task, she snapped the seat belt closed.
“You were wrong.”
She turned to look at him again and something sparked in those fine eyes. “Do I hear a lecture coming on, Nate?”
“Ma’am,” he said with more of a drawl than was strictly natural to him. “I would not presume.”
She gave him a slow once-over. “Oh, I think you would. You look like a man who presumes on a regular basis.”
He decided she was annoying. “Have I just been insulted?”
She laughed, a full-out laugh that time. It was such a great laugh he forgot how aggravating he found her. “You came to my rescue.” Her eyes were twinkling again. “I would never be so rude as to insult you.”
“Well, all right, then,” he said, feeling suddenly out of balance somehow. He put the pickup in gear, checked for traffic and then eased back onto the road again. For a minute or two, neither of them spoke. Beyond his headlight beams, there was only the dark, twisting ribbon of road. No other headlights cut the night. Above, the sky was endless, swirling with stars, the rugged, black shadows of the mountains poking up into it. When the silence got too thick, he asked, “So, did you hear about the great flood that took out half of Rust Creek Falls last summer?”
“Oh, yeah.” She was nodding. “So scary. So much of Montana was flooded, I heard. It was all over the national news.”
The Rust Creek levee had broken on July Fourth, destroying homes and businesses all over the south half of town. Since then, Rust Creek Falls had seen an influx of men and women eager to pitch in with reconstruction. Some in town claimed that a lot of the women had come with more than helping out in mind, that they were hoping to catch themselves a cowboy. Nate couldn’t help thinking that if Callie Kennedy wanted a man, she’d have no trouble finding one—even if she was more annoying than most.
A Doctor for Keeps Page 18
