Lucy & the Lieutenant

by Helen Lacey

  Pity his nephew didn’t inherit some of those manners or charm.

  Lucy wrinkled her nose and headed down the hall to the small locker room. Brant made her mad the way he ignored her. It wasn’t like he was some great catch or anything. Sure, he had a body to die for. And the sexiest deep blue eyes. And dark hair that she’d often imagined running her fingers through. But he was a moody, closed-off loner who didn’t seem to have time for anyone. Except his closest family members. She’d seen him in town one morning with his young nieces and the girls clearly adored him. It had made her think about how he’d probably make a great dad one day. And the idea of that quickly had her womb doing backflips.

  Idiot...

  She shrugged off her foolish thoughts, hung up her white coat and grabbed her bag.

  The cold air outside hit her like a laser blast when she walked through the hospital doors. She quickly made it to her Honda and jumped inside. Snow was falling lightly and she watched the flakes hit the windshield. She loved snow and everything that went with it. Skiing, snowballs, log fires and the holidays... It was her favorite time of year. And one day she hoped she’d have a family of her own to share it with.

  If only she could get the silly and impossible dreams of Brant Parker out of her head.

  She popped the key into the ignition, started the car and drove off. The roads were slick, so she took her time getting home. When she pulled up in the driveway it was past five o’clock and she spotted her ginger cat, Boots, sitting idle in the front window. The image made her smile, and she was welcomed by the demanding feline once she’d dusted off her shoes and entered the house.

  The place was small and very much in need of a complete renovation. She’d painted the walls in the living area and main bedroom when she’d returned to town for good, but since then she’d been so busy at the hospital, anything else had been put on hold. The kitchen required a complete overhaul as the cupboards were decades old and styled in old-fashioned laminate paneling and bright orange trim. It was retro in the truest sense and not to her taste. But she couldn’t really afford to get someone in to do the work until the following summer and wasn’t skilled enough to tackle anything more than painting herself. So, it would have to wait.

  She dropped her bag, fed the cat and quickly checked her email before she headed to the shower. Within half an hour she was dressed in her favorite long denim skirt, emerald green shirt and mid-heeled boots. She pulled her hair from its ponytail, applied a little makeup and grabbed a small handbag for her wallet and cell phone. She texted Kayla as she was leaving, grabbed her coat and headed outside. She dusted the thin layer of snow off the windshield before she got into her car. The vehicle took a few turns of the key to start, but she was soon on her way.

  The O’Sullivan pub was in the center of town and possessed a kind of richly authentic Irish flavor. It was actually a hotel, with fifteen luxurious rooms, two restaurants, a bar, an outdoor garden for private functions and several conference rooms available for rent. The O’Sullivan family was rich and well-known. Although the old man, John O’Sullivan, had retired and his eldest son, Liam, now ran the place, he still walked around with his chest puffed out like he ruled the town and everyone in it. No one crossed the O’Sullivans. No one would dare. The hotel was one of the main draws in the town and that had a lot of pull with the mayor’s office. Tourists came to see the old mines, the occasional rodeos, the horse and cattle ranches, and many used the town as a stopover before they crossed the state line. Since the O’Sullivan’s hotel was the poshest place to stay, few people objected to paying for their amenities.

  She did wonder if that’s why Brant had bought the Loose Moose—as a way of sticking it to the O’Sullivans. There was certainly no love lost between the two families. Brant’s older brother, Grady, had been married to Liz O’Sullivan, and Lucy knew her parents had never thought a rancher was good enough for their beloved daughter. When Liz died a few years ago things had gotten worse and, according to Colleen Parker, the feud between the two families was now quite intense.

  It was early, so she found a spot outside the hotel and parked. She got out, grabbed her coat from the backseat and tossed it over her arm. A few people milled around the front of the hotel, and she recognized a couple of nurses from the hospital and waved as she made her way through the wide doors.

  Kayla, Brooke and Ash were already seated at a booth in the bar when she arrived, with a pitcher of sangria between them. The O’Sullivan pub certainly wasn’t the average run-of-the-mill kind of drinking establishment. If you wanted beer and a game of pool you went to one of the other cowboy bars in town like Rusty’s or the Black Bull. She slid into the booth and raised a brow at the quarter-empty pitcher on the table. “You started without me?”

  Brooke tossed her straight blond hair a little and grinned. “You’re late. So, of course.”

  Blue-eyed Ash, whose bobbed hair was the color of copper, smiled and nodded. “I’m off duty.”

  “And being a museum curator is thirsty work,” Kayla said and laughed. “Although I’ll be stopping at one drink. But we got you a glass.”

  Lucy chuckled and stared at her friend, who was easily the most beautiful woman she’d ever known. Kayla’s long blond hair and dark brown eyes stopped most men in their tracks.

  She lifted the half-filled glass and took a small sip. “Thanks. Are we staying for dinner?”

  “Not me,” Brooke said. “I have a foal due within days and with this weather coming in...” She sighed and grinned. “You know how it is.”

  Yes, they all knew Brooke lived and breathed for her horses.

  “Nor me. I only have a sitter until seven thirty,” Ash replied and inclined a thumb toward Kayla. “And this one has a date.”

  Lucy’s gaze widened. “Really? With whom?”

  Kayla laughed again. “Assignments. Marking papers for the online class I’m teaching through the community college.”

  “Gosh, we’re a boring group,” Lucy said and smiled. “Just as well I have a cat to get home to.”

  “You could always ask Hot Stuff over there to take you to dinner,” Kayla suggested and laughed again.

  Lucy’s eyes popped wide. Hot Stuff? There was no mistaking who she meant. Her friend had been calling Brant that name for years, ever since Lucy had admitted she was crushing on him when she was a teenager.

  “He’s here?”

  “Yep,” Kayla replied. “Over by the bar, talking to Liam O’Sullivan.”

  Lucy looked toward Ash for confirmation. “She’s right. He was here when we arrived. Looks like he’s not too happy about it, either. I don’t think he’s cracked a smile in that time.”

  Nothing unusual about that, Lucy thought. She itched to turn around and see for herself, but didn’t want to appear obvious. But she was curious as to why he was with Liam O’Sullivan, considering the family history.

  “You know, he’s not a complete killjoy,” Brooke said about her cousin and gave a little grin. “And if you like, I could ask him for you?”

  Lucy almost spat out her sangria. “Don’t you dare,” she warned. “You know how I feel about—”

  “Yes,” Brooke assured her and chuckled. “We’ve known how you feel about him for well over a decade.”

  God, how foolish that sounded. And, if she were being completely honest with herself, a little pathetic. She certainly didn’t want friends thinking she was still pining for Brant Parker after so many years. “Well, I won’t be asking him to take me to dinner,” Lucy assured them.

  “Pity,” Kayla said and chuckled. “Because he hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you’ve been here.”

  Lucy’s cheeks heated. So, he watched her. It didn’t mean anything. She might be unkissed, untouched and naive, but she was savvy enough to know when a man wasn’t interested. Even though there were times...well, occasionally she had though
t that she’d seen interest in his blue eyes. But mostly she thought it simply wishful thinking and then got on with knowing he’d never look at her in that way.

  She turned her head a little and spotted him. Handsome as ever, he was talking to Liam and she experienced the usual flutter in her belly. His dark hair, strong jaw and blue eyes never failed to affect her on a kind of primal level.

  “You’re imagining things,” she said dismissively and poured another quarter of a glass of sangria to keep her hands busy.

  “I know what I saw,” Kayla said, still smiling. “I wonder what he’s doing talking with Liam.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find out,” Lucy said with a grin.

  Kayla sighed heavily. “For the last time, I am not interested in Liam O’Sullivan.”

  Ash and Brooke both laughed. “Sure you aren’t,” Ash said.

  “We’re just working together on the gallery extension plans, that’s all,” Kayla insisted.

  Lucy was pretty sure there was more to it, but didn’t press the issue. She was more interested in knowing why Brant was consorting with his brother’s mortal enemy. But since neither things were any of her business, she concentrated on the cocktails and enjoying her friend’s company.

  Except, Brooke didn’t drop the topic. “At least he hasn’t wrecked his bike again.”

  “Not for a couple of months,” Lucy said and frowned. “He was lucky he wasn’t seriously injured,” she added with quiet emphasis.

  His last visit to the ER was his third in seven months and had landed him with a dislocated shoulder and cuts and scrapes. The first was another flip from his motorbike. The second was when he’d climbed Kegg’s Mountain and taken a tumble that also could have killed him. Why he’d risk his life so carelessly after surviving three tours of the Middle East, Lucy had no idea.

  “I guess he’s just adventurous,” Brooke said, and Lucy saw a shadow of concern in her friend’s expression. This was Brant’s cousin. Family. Brooke knew him. And clearly she was worried.

  “Maybe,” Lucy replied and smiled fractionally, eager to change the subject.

  Ash bailed at seven fifteen to get home to her eleven-year-old son, Jaye. Lucy hung out with Kayla and Brooke for another ten minutes before they all grabbed their bags and headed out. Brant had left half an hour earlier, without looking at her, without even acknowledging her presence. Kayla managed a vague wave to Liam O’Sullivan before they walked through the doors and into the cold night air.

  Lucy grabbed her coat and flipped it over her shoulders. “It’s still snowing. Weird for this time of year. Remind me again why I didn’t accept the offer to join the hospital in San Francisco?”

  “Because you don’t like California,” Kayla said, shivering. “And you said you’d miss us and this town too much.”

  “True,” Lucy said and grinned. “I’ll talk to you both over the weekend.”

  They hugged goodbye and headed in opposite directions. People were still coming into the hotel and the street out front was getting busy, so she took some time to maneuver her car from its space and drive off.

  The main street of Cedar River was typical of countless others in small towns: a mix of old and new buildings, cedar and stucco, some tenanted, some not. There were two sets of traffic lights and one main intersection. Take a left and the road headed toward Rapid City. Go right and there was Nebraska. Over three and a half thousand people called Cedar River home. It sat peacefully in the shadow of the Black Hills and was as picturesque as a scene from a postcard. She loved the town and never imagined living anywhere else. Even while she was away at college, medical school and working at the hospital in Sioux Falls for three years, her heart had always called her home.

  Up until recently the town had been two towns—Cedar Creek and Riverbend—separated by a narrow river and a bridge. But after years of negotiating, the townships had formed one larger town called Cedar River. Lucy had supported the merger... It meant more funding for the hospital and the promise of a unified, economically sound community.

  Lucy was just about to flick on the radio for the chance to hear the weather report when her car spluttered and slowed, quickly easing to little more than a roll. She steered left and pulled to the curb as the engine coughed and died.

  Great...

  A few cars passed, all clearly intent on getting home before the snow worsened. Lucy grabbed her bag and pulled out her cell. She could call her automobile club for assistance, but that meant she’d be dragging mechanic Joss Culhane out to give her a tow home. And Joss was a single dad with two little girls to look after and had better things to do than come to her rescue because she’d forgotten about the battery light that had been flashing intermittently all week.

  Better she didn’t. She was just about to call Kayla to come and get her when she spotted something attached to one of the old buildings flapping in the breeze. A shingle. Recognition coursed through her.

  The Loose Moose. Brant’s place.

  A light shone through one of the front windows. He was home. She knew he lived in the apartment above the tavern. Of course she’d never been up there. But Colleen Parker had told her how he was renovating the tavern while residing in the upstairs rooms.

  Lucy got out of the car and wrapped herself in her red woolen coat. Surely, Brant would help her, given the circumstances?

  She grabbed her bag and locked the car before she headed toward the old tavern. The old adobe front was boarded up, apart from the two windows, and the heavy double doors were still blackened in spots from the damage caused by the fire eight months before.

  Lucy knocked once and waited. She could hear music coming from inside and discreetly peered through one of the windows. There were trestle tables scattered with power tools and neat stacks of timber on the floor near the long bar, and the wall between the remaining booth seats and the back room that had once housed pool tables had been pulled down. She knocked again, louder this time, and then again. The music stopped. By the time the door swung back she was shivering with cold, her knuckles were pink and her patience a little frayed.

  Until she saw him. Then her mouth turned dry and her knees knocked for an altogether different reason.

  He wore jeans and a navy sweater that molded to his shoulders and chest like a second skin. His dark hair was ruffled, as though he’d just run a hand through it, and the very idea made her palms tingle. His blue eyes shimmered and his jaw was set tightly. He looked surprised to see her on his doorstep. And not one bit welcoming.

  But, dear heaven, he is gorgeous.

  She forced some words out. “Um, hi.”

  “Dr. Monero,” he said, frowning. “It’s a little late for a house call, don’t you think?”

  She swallowed hard, suddenly nervous. There was no welcome in his words. She jutted her chin. “Oh, call me Lucy,” she insisted and then waved a backward hand. “My car has stopped just outside. I think it’s the battery. And I didn’t want to call for a tow because my mechanic has two little kids and I thought it was too much to ask for him to come out in this weather and I was wondering if... I thought you might...”

  “You thought I might what?”

  Lucy wanted to turn and run. But she stayed where she was and took a deep breath. “I thought you might be able to help. Or give me a lift home.”

  His brows shot up. “You did?”

  She shrugged. “Well, I know it’s only a few blocks away, but the paths are slippery and the snow doesn’t seem to be easing anytime soon.”

  His gaze flicked upward for a second toward the falling snow and then to her car. “Give me your keys,” he instructed and held out his hand.

  Lucy dropped the keys into his palm and watched as he strode past her and to her car. He was in the car and had the hood up in seconds. Lucy tucked her coat collar around her neck and joined him by the vehicle. He closed
the driver’s door and moved around the front, bending over the engine block. Lucy watched, captivated and suddenly breathless over the sheer masculine image he evoked. There was something elementally attractive about him...something heady and fascinating. Being around him felt as decadent as being behind the counter in a candy store. He had a narcotic power that physically affected her from the roots of her hair to the soles of her feet. And she’d never responded to a man in that way before.

  Not even close.

  Sure, she’d crushed on several of the O’Sullivan or Culhane brothers back in high school. But Brant Parker had never been far from her thoughts. Returning to Cedar River had only amplified the feeling over the years. Being around him made her realize how real that attraction still was. She liked him. She wanted him. It was that simple. It was that complicated.

  “Battery’s dead,” he said, closing the hood.

  Lucy smiled. “Well, at least that means I remembered to put gas in the tank.”

  He didn’t respond. He simply looked at her. Deeply. Intently. As if, in that moment, there was nothing else. No one else. Just the two of them, standing in the evening snow, with the streetlight casting shadows across the sidewalk.

  “I’ll take you home,” he said and walked back toward the Loose Moose.

  Lucy followed and stood by the doors. “I’ll wait here if you like.”

  Brant turned and frowned. “I have to get my jacket and keys, and my truck is parked out back. So you might as well come inside.”

  He didn’t sound like he wanted her in his home. In fact, he sounded like it was the last thing he wanted. But, undeterred, she followed him across the threshold and waited as he shut the door.

  “You’ve been busy,” she said as she walked through the room and dropped her bag on the bar. “The renovations are coming along.”