Wanted

by Karen Rose Smith

  To her surprise, she saw Kaitlyn at the counter at the cash register. “Hi there! I didn’t expect to see you here.” She had called Kaitlyn yesterday to ask about babysitters. Kaitlyn said Marissa had already been in touch and she’d be glad to watch Amy and Jordan for the evening.

  “Thursday’s my day off. After hospital rounds, I volunteer here for a few hours. Are you looking for something special?”

  “A dress for Saturday night. I’ll check the racks for something simple and black.”

  Kaitlyn studied her with an eagle eye.

  “What?” Sara asked.

  “I might have just the thing. I started unpacking boxes in the back and I saw some dresses you might like. Can you watch over things out here while I look?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  Kaitlyn wasn’t gone long and no one came in or out of the store while she was absent. Sara had drifted from here to there, thinking she really should pick up some tops for Amy.

  When Kaitlyn returned, Sara had to blink twice. She was holding a color-blocked black-and-white sheath with glass beads stitched along the bodice and around the checkerboard hem. In her other hand a flaming red dress dangled on a hanger. Both were eye-catching and beautiful.

  “I wouldn’t expect something like those to be here.”

  Kaitlyn laughed. “We get everything from sandals to ostrich feather hats. But these... We have a donor who lives in Sacramento. Actually, I think she goes out and buys some of these dresses and donates them. I received a note from her last year in one of the boxes that said, ‘Everyone should feel pretty.’ So here’s your chance. I think they’re your size. Why don’t you go in the back and try them on.”

  Sara checked her watch. She had about fifteen minutes. She could do it.

  In the back, amidst cartons and racks, price tags, shoes, shirts and jeans, she quickly slipped out of her scrubs and into the red dress. With plunging décolletage, it just wasn’t her. She hung it on a waiting rack. She tried to find tags after she slipped out of it, but they had been snipped out. She slipped on the black-and-white sheath. Immediately she felt like a celebrity. She didn’t think she’d ever had on a dress that felt so sumptuous.

  She went to the doorway of the shop and smiled at Kaitlyn, holding her arms out.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  “I think it’s perfect for you, and it’s perfect for the party.”

  “Have you ever been to the soiree?”

  “A few years ago. My life was entirely different then.”

  She didn’t say any more and again Sara wondered what her story was, and why she was so involved with The Mommy Club. But one thing she’d learned in her practice was a respect for other people’s privacy. She usually knew when to poke and when to keep silent. Whatever the reason, this seemed to be a time to keep silent.

  “How much is it?” Sara asked, now worried that she couldn’t afford it, even if it was in a thrift shop.

  “That box had a label on it. Everything in it was supposed to be ten dollars.”

  “You are kidding.”

  “This is why we have benefactors. Take it, Sara, and enjoy it.”

  * * *

  Hours later, at the Fawn Grove Physical Therapy Center, Sara was setting aside case notes on her last patient of the day. She’d seen Ramona twice now and her heart went out to her. The woman had been bicycling when a car’s tire blew and the vehicle hit her. Sara still couldn’t believe the condition the woman was in. With a pin in her leg and a long scar across her cheek, she was still weak. Sara was working on helping her strengthen her whole body while her leg healed. She helped her work her good leg on the table mat, use hand weights to build up the muscles in her arms again. They also worked on stretching Ramona’s neck muscles and loosening her back muscles.

  After their first session, Sara realized that Ramona didn’t know if she could get better. She wanted her old life back—leading trail rides into the mountains, going out on dates with men who thought she was pretty, having enough energy to keep her going all day and into the night. In some ways, Ramona reminded Sara of Jase when he’d first come home. She just hoped she could help her turn her attitude around, too.

  How to do it was the dilemma.

  “How many weeks until I’m not so tired?” Ramona asked.

  Intuitively, Sara knew Ramona’s fatigue came from her mindset as well as her physical condition. “Are you walking at home?”

  “Some. But I hate using a cane.”

  “As soon as you feel you have your balance steady without it, you can carry it instead of use it. Soon you’ll be leaving it behind.”

  Ramona gave her a look that said she didn’t believe that would happen anytime soon.

  After work, Sara picked up Jordan and Amy and headed back to the winery. Jordan babbled to Amy in the backseat of the car. Marissa’s one-year-old had a sunny disposition and a smile that could charm the clouds from the sky.

  A short time later, holding Amy’s hand and carrying Jordan, Sara walked into the winery’s office, looking forward to dinner with Amy, a game or two and then an early bedtime for both of them.

  Marissa must have seen her fatigue because she asked, “Are you as beat as you look?”

  Sara laughed. “I probably look worse than I feel. I had a tough client this afternoon and I’m not sure what’s the best thing to do for her.”

  “Why don’t you take a walk? I’ll take Jordan and Amy out to the back garden. They can watch the butterflies. The fountain’s going and Jordan loves to splash in the water. Do you mind if Amy gets wet?”

  “Not at all. But you’ve had a long day, too.”

  “Yeah, but mine was mostly about pushing papers.”

  One thing Sara had learned through all of this was to accept help graciously. So without further argument, she simply said, “Thanks,” and after a kiss and hug for her daughter, headed out the way she’d come in.

  She had glimpsed the garden in the back of the office building. There were also gardens surrounding the winery where patrons could sit and enjoy small pastries and salted snacks with the varieties of wine. But she headed in the other direction toward the vineyard, passing a rose garden that was lush with scent and color. She dawdled there for a few minutes, running her finger over the beautifully smooth petals, sniffing the raspberry-scented red roses. In a way, the vineyard and gardens seemed to come from a fairy tale. They were all well cared for and beautiful. She could see why this place had helped Jase heal.

  She was strolling through the Merlot vineyard before she knew it. Suddenly Sara saw movement ahead, near one of the trellises. It was Jase, but he wasn’t training and tying vines today. He had a camera in his hand. Cautiously, she took a few steps closer. She didn’t know whether she should alert him to her presence or not. He said he hadn’t used a camera since he’d been home. She didn’t want to spoil the moment.

  However, as she studied him, she realized he seemed to be shooting panoramic shots, rounding in a circle to capture every aspect of the vineyard. When he trained the camera in her direction, he, of course, saw her.

  As he approached her, she automatically said, “If you want to be alone, I can head on back.”

  “No need for that.” His gaze took in her blue scrubs and her brightly colored blouse. Her work uniform, such as it was.

  “Are you just home from work?” he asked her.

  “I picked up Jordan and Amy, and Marissa’s showing them the back garden. She thought I looked like I needed to clear my head.”

  “Rough day?”

  Sometimes she couldn’t tell if Jase was just making conversation or if he really wanted to know. He had an easy way of listening that sometimes confused her. She didn’t know if he was personally interested in her or practicing his skill as a good photojournalist and reporter.

&nb
sp; “The afternoon was. Actually, my patient brought back memories of you when you were recovering. She’s having a tough time changing her life.”

  “Ah, change, the constant in our lives,” he said with a wry smile.

  Venturing a little closer to him, she motioned to his camera. “What are you up to?”

  “Photographs for the new brochure for the vineyard. My father hasn’t revitalized it in a few years, so I suggested we do that. We’ve made some changes in the tasting room, and in the party reception hall. The Wine Club is growing and we need new material.”

  It seemed as if he was enjoying what he was doing. But she asked the obvious question. “How does it feel to have a camera in your hands again?”

  When his gaze locked on hers, she felt the thrill she’d been feeling ever since she moved onto Raintree Winery and encountered him. The sensations that coursed through her whenever she looked into his eyes were almost body-rocking.

  “Actually, it feels damn good! I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it. I thought when I picked up my camera, memories would come rushing back, the memories I didn’t want to revisit. Sure, I remember the last time I was taking pictures and what happened that day, but I also remember roaming these vineyards as a teenager with a camera in my hand. This place is what got me started photographing in the first place, and my camera is what got me name recognition and a byline. When I wrote that article about The Mommy Club, it felt natural, and holding this again does, too.” He held up his camera.

  “Natural enough that you’ll leave again?”

  She kept her voice light as if the answer was of no consequence to her.

  “We’ll see. I accept change a little more readily now than I used to.”

  Did he really? Would he seek out editors who could use his skills once more?

  That thought pushed her heart practically to her knees. She realized whether she wanted to get involved with Jase Cramer or not, she was falling for him. That thought was as terrifying as the possibility that the insurance claim might not go through, and all she’d have left was her job—and a mountain of debt.

  Yet that wasn’t true. Most of all, she had Amy. Whether she was falling for Jase or not simply didn’t matter.

  Because Amy came first.

  Chapter Six

  “Thank goodness for Kaitlyn.” Late Saturday afternoon at her apartment in town, Marissa used the curling iron one last time to put the finishing touches on Sara’s new hairdo.

  She’d convinced Sara that she needed a little trim for tonight’s party. Kaitlyn had come over to the cottage midafternoon to care for Jordan and Amy, and they’d gone to Marissa’s for a few hours of party preparation.

  Zeroing in on what Marissa had said, Sara was grateful, too, to have this bit of time for girl talk with a woman who was fast becoming a good friend.

  Marissa’s apartment was small but neat and clean, with charming touches that made it homey. Sara still didn’t really know much about her.

  “I love Jordan dearly,” Marissa went on, “but sometimes it’s nice to remember who I was before he was born. Do you know what I mean?”

  Since Sara knew all the responsibilities of being a single mom, she definitely understood. “I know what you mean, and I guess I’m finally learning to accept some help, like you are.”

  “You mean The Mommy Club? I don’t know what I would have done without them. I don’t know what I would have done without Kaitlyn. When my momma died, I felt lost, really adrift. I think that’s why I hooked up with Jordan’s father. My mother would have warned me against getting involved with a cowboy, a bull rider, no less.”

  “So he’s not around?”

  “Definitely not. He’s out on the circuit, doing his thing.”

  “So he never sees Jordan?”

  “He doesn’t know about Jordan.”

  That shocked Sara, and Marissa must have glimpsed that look in her eyes when she dipped down in front of Sara to check the curls around her face. “Believe me,” Marissa said, “he wouldn’t want to know. He wouldn’t know responsibility if it bit him. I did the best thing for both of us by not telling him.”

  Marissa took a mirror from her kitchen table and held it up for Sara to see. “What do you think?”

  Marissa had piled Sara’s hair on top of her head and made all kinds of swirly curls. A few dangled around her face.

  “It looks fabulous!”

  “It will look even better once you add that dress. It’s a good thing we wear the same size shoes so you can borrow my silver heels.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to wear them?”

  “Nope, my dress is green. I have cream strappy sandals that will look good with it. The silver ones are left over from my kick-up-my-heels days.”

  Sara had to laugh at the way Marissa said it. “You sound as if you’re never going to have kick-up-your-heels days again.”

  “I know better now. I’d never go out with someone like Ty again. Oops! I usually don’t mention his name. I really don’t want anyone to know who Jordan’s father is. That way, there’s no slip.”

  “Your secret’s safe with me. This isn’t Ty Conroy you’re talking about, is it?” Ever since she’d lived in Fawn Grove, she’d heard about Ty Conroy, the championships and purses he’d won, the risks he’d taken, the bulls he’d ridden. In a cowboy sense, he was one of those hometown heroes. He’d made good and that was important.

  “I won’t confirm or deny. That way, you don’t really know for sure.”

  Obviously she wasn’t the only one with a trust issue.

  “Do you think we should call the kids before we get dressed?” Sara asked.

  Marissa pulled a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator. “Of course we should. We won’t have any peace of mind unless we do. We’re moms.”

  An hour and a half later, Sara and Marissa walked up the front steps of Raintree Winery’s main house. Sara didn’t feel like herself at all. Yes, she’d gone to cocktail parties with Conrad. But for the past two years, parties hadn’t been part of her life. And she’d never been to such an elaborate one as this.

  As the butler opened the door and motioned her and Marissa inside, Sara felt out of place in the house’s grandeur. The foyer was as big as the living room and kitchen at the cottage, with a beautiful Carrara marble floor, thick wooden arches and beautiful crown molding.

  “Wow,” she said under her breath.

  “I second that,” Marissa agreed.

  The butler motioned them into the dining room, explaining that beyond was the living room where many of the guests were gathered. They should make themselves comfortable.

  “Is Jase going to meet you here?” Marissa asked her.

  “Oh, no. I mean, this isn’t a date or anything. He just invited me to come.”

  “Once he sees you in that dress, I think he’ll want to spend some time with you.”

  “My dress won’t sway the way he thinks, one way or another. He’s not that kind of man.”

  “Believe me, Sara, if he’s attracted to you—and I think he is—that dress is going to ratchet up his attraction. So be prepared.”

  “For what?”

  “To have a great time tonight.”

  “Are you going to desert me?”

  “Not exactly. But part of my job is to mingle with the clients, strike up conversations, find out what they like about our wines as well as what they don’t. Jase wants me to discover some of that tonight. As general manager, he has to keep on top of it, and talking with the guests invited to this party is the best way to do it.”

  Marissa patted Sara’s arm. “Go on, mingle. I’ll be all over the place. You’ll find me.”

  Sara felt completely out of her element, mainly because she’d forgotten how to make small talk at a cocktail party. But
maybe like other remembered skills, that one would return when she needed it.

  Although the house was big and luxurious, the furnishings called to her. There was an oil painting of the Sierras on one wall. She studied it for a while, wondering if any of Jase’s photographs decorated any other walls. In another corner sat an unusual club chair, the fabric printed with photographs of Raintree Winery.

  “Distinctive, isn’t it?” a tall, blond man with a wineglass in his hand asked her, his gaze roaming over her as if he was trying to figure out who she was.

  “Yes, it is. I was wondering if Jase might have taken the photographs.” There was a perspective about the photos that reminded her of some of his pictures.

  “You have a good eye, or else you’ve seen a lot of Jase’s work. You a friend of his?”

  She automatically extended her hand. “I’m Sara Stevens. My daughter and I are staying in the cottage.”

  “So you’re Sara. I finally meet the single mom who escaped the fire. Quite heroic, rescuing your daughter like that.”

  “Not really. Just something a mother does.”

  As he shook her hand, his thumb pressed almost intimately along her palm and she quickly pulled her hand away.

  But he just smiled a charming smile and introduced himself. “I’m Liam Corbett, chief winemaker. I’ve seen your car come and go, but I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you.”

  She relaxed a little, now that she knew who he was. What she’d thought had been a come-on might simply have been Liam being friendly. “You create award-winning wines.”

  “I try. I was around the block before I came here. Just couldn’t find the quite-right grapes, soil, temperature. But Raintree has it all.”

  In his mid-forties, with his blond good looks, tanned skin and green eyes, Liam could be a lady-killer.

  “So your little girl is four?” he asked with a cock of his head and another smile that was meant to disarm her.

  She knew that, but his warmth and charm were inviting at a party in the midst of strangers. “Yes, she is. And she’s my life.” She found herself admitting, “I haven’t attended a party like this for a long while.”