by Debra Webb
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
About the Author
THE BACK-UP PLAN
When life throws you a curve, it’s time for Plan B.
Debra Webb
"Debra Webb is a master storyteller." ~Allison Brennan, NYT bestseller
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2013, Pink House Press, Webbworks, LLC
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Chapter One
“Perfect, just perfect.” Donna Jacobs kicked the deflated rubber. A flat tire. The perfect end to the perfect day.
What did she do now? She hugged her arms around herself and drew in a long breath of cool night air, held it to a count of five, and then slowly released it. It was late and it had been a very long two days on the road, but it was almost over.
Donna squinted at the white sign swinging from an L-shaped post not ten feet in front of her crippled car. Welcome to Huntley. Home of the Hornets.
Too bad there was no welcoming committee. She surveyed her dark surroundings. Not quite close enough to town to have the luxury of street lights and the silvery glow of the full moon was more ominous than comforting.
Dense woods loomed on either side of the desolate road, their appearance as black as the inky highway that stretched out before her. The night sounds added another layer of uneasiness. The wind rustling through the leaves. The distant, haunting call of an owl. She silently cursed the jerk who had stolen her cell phone at a service station a few hundred miles back.
At half past ten she doubted there would be any traffic on this little country road. She was stranded. Her heart sank. All she wanted was to get to her little girl. Melissa would probably be asleep by now. Donna exhaled a big old tired breath. Hopefully she’d be there when her baby woke up. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as images of the five-year-old’s sweet face enveloped her. The last two weeks had been pure agony without her.
If things worked out here she wouldn’t have to worry about being separated from her daughter again. Frustration groaned through her as she regarded the flat tire once more. “You couldn’t have held out ten more minutes?”
Standing around feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t get her moving again. She set her hands firmly on her hips. “I can do this,” she announced to the symphony of crickets playing their nocturnal melody. Anybody could change a flat tire. She’d seen it done once or twice. Besides, she was a doctor. If she could patch up an injured patient, she could do this.
“Easy as pie.” One quick tap of the yellow button in the glove box and the trunk popped open. The light that illuminated the cargo area flickered and then went black. Donna rolled her eyes. Of course the trunk light would pick now to go out. She shoved aside a small suitcase and a dozen or so toys to find the spare tire compartment. It would be just her luck to discover there wasn’t even a spare. She’d never had a flat tire. It never occurred to her to check.
She was just so tired. Life had thrown her a big old hairpin curve and she’d been scrambling for weeks to get a plan b in place. Right now all she wanted was to get to her daughter. Maybe she should just walk the rest of the way. It couldn’t be that much farther. Her sister had warned that Huntley was really small.
“Need some help?”
Donna jerked up, banging her head against the trunk lid. She swore under her breath and rubbed the throbbing spot on the back of her head. Then she froze. The deep voice that came from behind her belonged to a man.
In the dark.
In the middle of nowhere.
With trembling fingers, she gripped the lug wrench that lay on top of the spare tire. Drawing some comfort from the cold steel, she willed herself to turn and face the stranger.
Her eyes widened as she took in the sheer size of the man. Tall. Very tall. Her gaze moved from the imposing expanse of shoulders to bulging biceps and then back up to a face that could only be labeled handsome despite the fist of panic gripping her. She stepped back only to be halted by the car’s rear bumper.
“Don’t worry, lady. I’ve done too many miles tonight to be a threat.” He smiled and pulled at the damp t-shirt clinging to his obviously ripped chest. “Believe me, I’m harmless.”
Donna held her breath as he walked past her to look at the flat tire. Despite the friendly tone and pleasant smile, nothing about this man would ever be considered harmless.
Okay, girl. Look at this logically. The sweat pants and sneakers suggest he could very well be telling the truth about what he was doing in the middle of nowhere at this hour.
But he was still a stranger. She preached stranger danger to her daughter all the time.
She could scream, but who would hear her? Run? Of course not. Remaining calm was the best course of action. If she appeared sure of herself she wouldn’t look as vulnerable. Take charge. That’s what she needed to do. Take charge and show this big guy she had everything under control.
He strolled back to where she stood by the open trunk, looked her up and down, almost undoing her newly found bravado, then reached for the lug wrench she held in a death grip. “This won’t take long,” he predicted.
Be strong. Assertive. “Thank you, but I’ve got this.”
He drew back his outstretched hand and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you sure about that?” One dark eyebrow quirked up.
Though he didn’t out and out grin, the amusement in his tone left no doubt as to what he thought. He had already surmised that she possessed no tire changing experience.
“Quite sure, thank you.” It took every ounce of courage at her disposal, but she turned her back on him and reached into the trunk for the jack. Anyone could change a flat tire.
“Okay,” he conceded. “But I’m sure you won’t mind if I hang around until you’re through.” He propped himself against her car. “Huntley’s a small town. We don’t usually have to worry about thieves, murderers, and rapists, but what kind of gentleman would I be if I just went on home and left you stranded out here all alone in the dark?”
Donna shot him a thankless look. “Suit yourself.” She grabbed the elusive jack and moved around to the side of the car. Squatting in front of the wounded tire, she dropped her tools to the ground. Mr. Who-ever-he-was watched in silence.
She pondered the detailing of the gray metal center for a long while. Where were the things she had to loosen? Frowning, she bit her lip and thought some more. She had to remove the wheel cover or hubcap thingamajig first. It came off somehow, didn’t it?
She gripped the metal edge with her fingertips and pulled for all her one hundred and five pounds were worth. Her fingers slipped and she went down hard on her butt.
“Dammit.” She shook her head in disgust as she swiped at her bottom. Mr. whoever-he-was waited silently. She refused to look at him, didn’t want to see the I told you so grin he likely wore. First thing tomorrow morning she intended to buy herself a new cell phone and join a top notch auto club.
Okay. She crouched before the tire once more. This wasn’t rocket science by any stretch of the imagination.
“Look.” The man crouched next to her. “I’m sure
you can do this without me, but I’d really like to help.”
The trace of amusement that lingered in his voice irritated her beyond reason. “I don’t need help.” She twisted around to face him, fully intending to give him a piece of her mind instead she somehow misplaced her ability to speak.
He smiled then. A slow, sexy smile. “I don’t bite.”
She cleared her throat, searched for her waning composure, didn’t find it. Clearly his intent wasn’t nefarious. Why not let him play the hero? The sooner the tire was fixed the sooner she could be on her way.
“Well, all right. If you insist.” She handed over the tire iron and got out of his way. She was tired, that’s all. She should be grateful. He was a nice guy doing a good deed. People in small towns did stuff like that. Donna had to remember she wasn’t in Denver anymore.
In a matter of minutes he’d jacked up the car, changed the tire and stored the flat along with the tools in the trunk.
“Don’t forget to have that flat fixed. The spare is only good for like a hundred miles.” He moved to the driver’s side of the car and opened the door for her. “See, I told you it’d only take a few minutes.”
The interior lamp shed a dim light over his features. He raked back a thick, wavy lock of dark hair that had fallen across his forehead. His eyes were blue or gray. She couldn’t say for sure which. Tall, good looking. From the looks of those muscles, a real jock. The guy every female in a fifty mile radius swooned over, she’d wager. Well, not this female. Donna Jacobs was not in the market for a man right now; maybe she never would be. And if she ever was, he wouldn’t be the handsome, charming, Mr. Athlete variety.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
“Thanks.” Despite her dislike for his type, the solitary word seemed woefully inadequate since she would probably still be trying to get the wheel cover off if he hadn’t insisted on helping. “I appreciate your help.” She allowed him a hesitant smile.
“That smile is thanks enough.” His lips parted into a boyish grin. “Besides, rescuing damsels in distress is my favorite hobby.”
Donna considered setting him straight about the damsel in distress remark, but thought better of it. She needed to get to her child. “Good night then.”
“Wait.” A strong hand closed around her upper arm, setting off more of those foolish sparks and tugging her around to face him before she could escape into the car. “You didn’t tell me your name.”
And she didn’t intend to. Instead, she pulled free of his grasp, slid behind the wheel and quickly closed the door. On second thought she powered the window halfway down as she started the engine. “I guess that makes us even since you didn’t tell me yours either.”
Donna sped off before he could introduce himself. A last look in the rear-view mirror found him standing on the dark, deserted highway watching her drive away.
~*~
The next morning Donna parked in a visitor’s spot near the entrance to Huntley School. She smiled at Melissa, who was deeply engrossed in explaining to her teddy bear why he had to go into her backpack now. Donna checked her reflection in the rear-view mirror and groaned at the dark smudges under her eyes. Too exhausted when she dragged out of bed to bother with making herself presentable, she’d pulled her hair back and opted to forego make-up. Not to mention she’d gotten up forty-five minutes after the alarm’s irritating buzz. Oh, well, no one she met this morning was going to care whether she wore make-up or not!
Besides, she had other issues to tackle. She groaned as she reread the note written on the pink discipline form she held just to be sure she hadn’t misunderstood. Ms. Jacobs, a conference is requested to discuss Melissa’s behavior. H. Bradley.
Finding the ridiculous note in her daughter’s backpack this morning had put her in a tailspin. Dealing with a problem at school wasn’t exactly how she had intended to start her first day in Huntley. She had enough to do with getting the clinic ready to open. Starting with seeing the place for the first time. Her sister had taken care of everything so far. When things had fallen apart in Denver, Patty had jumped into action like a real life super hero. Her sister had put together a back-up plan in no time flat. She owed Patty big time for this rescue.
Speaking of rescues. A tiny smile touched her lips as thoughts of the handsome stranger from last night intruded on this morning’s reality check. The truly silly part was that she’d lain awake for a long time last night fantasizing about him. She didn’t need or want a man in her life just now—especially one like him—but after what she’d been through recently she’d needed an escape. Nothing wrong with a little fantasy now and again. In her fantasy world she was in control. She sighed. Unfortunately that’s all it would ever be. The guy who’d come to her aid last night probably had a wife and half a dozen kids. She hadn’t thought to look for a ring.
Because you don’t care.
Besides, he was a J-O-C-K, a four-letter word in Donna’s vocabulary. Men like him were always trouble. If any doubt existed after what she had gone through with Melissa’s father, the fiasco in Denver starring her overachieving, ambitious partner had driven the point home. You couldn’t trust men that good looking. Jocks possessed some errant gene that somehow ensured massive egos and ice cold hearts.
Her attention returned to the discipline slip in her hand. She didn’t have time for fantasies anyway. Reality awaited her this morning. Unbuckling her seat belt, she considered the little angel sitting in the passenger seat next to her. The idea of Melissa being disruptive in class, much less pushing one of her classmates, was downright impossible to believe. Not that she thought her child was perfect, it was just that Melissa had always been so quiet, almost introverted. Disruptive and aggressive behavior just wasn’t a part of her personality. There had to be some mistake, which was the reason Donna hadn’t bothered to question her. Why upset the child if it turned out to be unnecessary?
“Mommy, when do I get a daddy?”
“What?” Shock rattled Donna but somehow she managed to keep it in check. Where the heck had that question come from?
“Ashley and Brook have Uncle Sam for a daddy.” Melissa peered up at Donna with worried eyes. “My new best friend Carlee has a daddy, too.” Her lips puckered in a heart wrenching pout. “Everybody has a daddy ‘cept me.”
Oh…my…God. Donna wasn’t prepared for this. Even her plan Z didn’t include a daddy! Brick Wallace, aka the Brick Wall with the Pittsburgh Steelers, hadn’t seen Melissa since the day she was born. And that one visit had been brief and strained. Melissa had no memories of her father, and she had never asked about him.
Why the sudden questions now? Entirely too much had gone wrong for Donna lately. She just didn’t have it in her this morning to deal with the daddy question. Her gaze dropped to the pink slip in her hand, or to fight another of life’s little disasters.
“You could help Mommy at the clinic today, if you’d like and we could talk about your question.” What a cop out. Mothers weren’t supposed to encourage their children to skip school. Donna was the one who wanted to skip out on meeting Melissa’s teacher for the first time. She glanced back at the pink slip, especially under the circumstances. Nor did she want to have to answer Melissa’s question, now or ever.
But she couldn’t put off the “daddy” talk forever.
“Mommy.” Melissa rolled her pretty blue eyes and sighed impatiently. “I have to go to school. Today’s Tuesday, we have music on Tuesdays.”
“Oh, I had no idea Tuesdays were so important.” Donna forced a smile. “Maybe we could talk about your question after school.”
“Okay,” Melissa chirped and turned her attention to tugging on her backpack.
Relieved to be out of the hot seat for the moment, Donna emerged from the car, skirted the hood and took Melissa’s hand. She guided her onto the sidewalk, away from the long line of traffic entering the semi-circular drive that curved through the front landscape of school property. One by one the cars stopped at the building�
��s main entrance just long enough for one or more children of varying sizes to unload. The school served kindergarten through twelfth grade and reminded her of the one she had attended as a child. At least that part was reassuring. In her opinion, smaller schools nurtured that feeling of family more so than larger ones.
Her dread escalated as she followed her daughter into the kindergarten through second grade wing of the large stone structure. Tan-colored tile shined like glass under their feet as they moved down the long, wide corridor. Nursery rhymes played in her memory as her eyes moved over the colorful fairytale murals that embellished the beige walls. Dozens of children scurried past, backpacks and lunch boxes in tow.
The atmosphere seemed pleasant enough. She hoped the teacher wasn’t going to be an old biddy who had already labeled her child as a troublemaker.
Donna hadn’t been this nervous since she sutured her first patient. Melissa had told her at the breakfast table this very morning that she loved her teacher. And Patty had recounted numerous times in their phone calls during the last two weeks what a great teacher Melissa had. Surely her own sister couldn’t be that wrong about the woman. There was simply no need to get this worked up. The teacher was probably some little blue-haired lady who had too many children in her classroom and had gotten Melissa mixed up with another child. That had to be it.
“C’mon, Mommy!” Melissa tugged at her hand. “We’re gonna be late.”
“Sorry, sweetie.” Donna allowed herself to be pulled down the long corridor a little faster.
Pencils and chalk. The familiar smell lingered in the air of the large classroom Melissa ushered Donna into. Sunny yellow walls decorated with bright characters and shapes eased her anxiety. She smiled at the trail of ABC’s that meandered around the walls. Melissa joined the group of children at the back of the room who were hanging up backpacks and putting away lunch boxes.
The teacher was nowhere around. Knowing she would return soon, Donna took the opportunity to have a look around. Shelf after shelf of books lined one corner where a large, well-used rocking chair sat. She ran her fingers over the volumes of children’s stories. Donna selected and opened a Mother Goose book. The scent of the old pages caused her lips to curl into a smile. She loved old books. She could just imagine the children spread out on the floor before the rocker as a matronly teacher read one of the old-as-time stories.
