Kiss Me, Sheriff!
Page 20
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The Marine Makes His Match
by Victoria Pade
Chapter One
“Come on, marine, come home!” Kinsey Madison said as she glanced down the street hoping for an approaching car. Then, hearing her own words, she laughed a small, wry laugh and said, “Same old tune.”
But on this November day in Denver, she wasn’t waiting for her brothers to come home. Instead, she was waiting for the man who was scheduled to interview her for a job.
Dignified old homes lined both sides of the street, shaded by enormous trees all bursting with red and gold leaves. But scenic or not, she’d been sitting there for over half an hour.
She was slated to meet Sutter Knightlinger, son of retired marine colonel Geraldine Knightlinger, who was in need of Kinsey’s services as a home–health care nurse. He’d texted that he was delayed at the hospital with his mother but would be there as soon as possible.
She wouldn’t have stayed, but this was a job she really wanted. It came with a particular opportunity she hoped to mine. An opportunity that fit into her own secret agenda.
She’d left Denver and her former job almost a year ago to return to her small Montana hometown. Her own mother’s health had been failing and with all three of her brothers deployed overseas, she was the only choice to take care of her mom.
Alice Madison had passed away a month ago. A short-term job as a private duty nurse had helped Kinsey transition from Northbridge back to Denver. When that job ended, her employer’s fiancée, Livi Camden, had recommended her for another home–health care position.
And just like that, when Kinsey had been fretting about losing what little contact she’d gained with the Camdens through Livi, another way had fallen into her lap via the Knightlingers.
Filling time, she pulled down the sun visor in front of her to look in the mirror that was hidden on the underside. She wanted to make sure she remained interview ready.
Her dark brown hair was long. It fell to the middle of her back when she wore it down, like she had today—parted just off-center and swept somewhat away from her oval face.
Makeup was something she kept to a minimum but she did use a little mascara to darken the lashes around her cobalt blue eyes, and blush to highlight her high cheekbones.
A barely-colored lip gloss moistened lips she pressed together before checking straight teeth to make sure nothing was stuck in them.
She craned up higher so she could see the high collar of the cream-colored blouse she’d worn today under a cinnamon-colored cardigan to go along with tan slacks.
All in all, she judged herself presentable for the interview and again just wished Sutter Knightlinger would get there so it could begin.
So a lot of things could begin. Things her brothers were opposed to her doing at all.
A big black SUV came down the street just then and pulled into the driveway. Kinsey got out of her car and opened the door to her backseat, leaning in to retrieve the leather satchel that contained her résumé and patient forms along with her medical supplies and instruments.
By the time she’d done that, a deep, deep male voice was calling across the yard, “Are you Kinsey Madison?”
Drawing out of the car she closed the door and looked over the top of it to say “I am.” And to stop short at the sight of the very fine specimen of man who had gotten out of the SUV.
Tall—at least six foot three—he had broad shoulders, a narrow waist and long legs that no doubt did much justice to his uniform when he was wearing it. As it was, he certainly wasn’t putting shame to the checked sport shirt and unfaded denim jeans he wore. Not even the fact that his left arm was in a sling detracted from the image.
To top off the impressively muscular build was a face that could have graced recruitment posters to help attract women to the service. Ruggedly handsome, he had hair the shade of wet sand that was cut short on the sides and just long enough on top to comb back. He had deep-set, piercing teal eyes, a longish nose that was a hint hawkish, a great mouth with a full lower lip and an angular jawline that culminated at a squarish chin with the sexiest dimple right in the center of it.
And all of a sudden Kinsey felt the oddest sensation, as if a small electrical charge rippled through her.
Maybe she’d caught a chill.
Whatever it was, she ignored it and told herself to be professional. This was a job interview, after all.
She locked her car and rounded the front end to head up the walkway as he came from the driveway.
At the front door, Kinsey paused while he punched in a series of numbers on a keypad to unlock it. Opening it with his uninjured right hand, he said, “Come on in. I apologize for the delay. It couldn’t be helped.”
He didn’t sound at all contrite, just matter-of-fact and he offered no explanation. She’d known he was an officer in the marines, and his attitude showed he was accustomed to laying down orders and expecting them to be followed by lesser ranks whether they liked it or not, whether they understood it or not.
“No problem,” she assured, having a lot of experience with that mindset and taking no offense. Kinsey followed him into a living room, the whole way accompanied by the sound of vigorous barking coming from another room.
“Jack! Quiet!” her host commanded, making Kinsey fight a smile when the order was completely disregarded.
“Just a minute. I have him crated in the kitchen and he won’t stop until I go get him.”
The man who still hadn’t introduced himself left her.
Kinsey took the opportunity to look around.
The inside of the house was like the outside—no-nonsense. The walls were paneled, the floors were hardwood, the furniture was all dark leather, the draperies were formal and the tables were antique. Heavy, dark and distinguished, there wasn’t a single thing that was light, airy, frivolous or fun. Or particularly homey or welcoming, either.
The barking stopped and the sound of four skittering paws announced the wire-haired fox terrier puppy that suddenly charged into the room. The pint-sized white, black and brown pup came straight for Kinsey, jumping up on her and wagging his tail eagerly.
“Jack! Down!” was the second command the dog ignored.
Kinsey leaned over to pet the adorable terrier. “Hi, Jack.”
“I’d put him in the backyard but he’d just bark his head off until I let him in again.”
“He’s fine,” Kinsey said, laughing as Jack started wrestling with her pant leg, growling with puppy ferocity.
Her host bent over and scooped the animal away from Kinsey’s slacks, holding the little wriggler under his arm like a football.
“I’m Sutter Knightlinger, by the way,” he said finally. Then, nodding in the direction of the leather sofa, he added, “Have a seat.”
He waited until she was sitting to take one of the tufted leather wing chairs across from a mahogany coffee table coated with a layer of undisturbed dust. He situated Jack beside him and the pup promptly began gnawing on the big hand keeping him prisoner until Sutter distracted him with a chew toy.
He began the interview saying, “Livi told me about your credentials—registered nurse with physical therapy training and experience both in hospitals and in home health care. She also told me what you do as a home–health care provider, so we don’t have to go through that—you’re well qualified. But I’m not sure how much you know about the situation here.”
“I know a little,” Kinsey said. “Livi told me that you’re a cousin to her cousins? That your mother and her aunt by marriage were sisters?” The key part to this for Kinsey, though she couldn’t admit that to Sutter.
“You’ll need to address my mother as Colonel—if you call her anything but that you’ll get off on the wrong foot,”
he advised. “But yes, the colonel’s sister Tina and Howard Camden were married, making Seth, Cade, Beau and Jani Camden my cousins.”
“Livi told me that your dad passed away a couple of months ago,” she continued. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
He acknowledged that stoically, with only the raise of that dimpled chin.
“Livi said that you were injured in Afghanistan and in a hospital when your dad died so the memorial service was postponed until last week, when you could get back. But your mom—the colonel—had a mild heart attack in the middle of it. I know that she’s since had a pacemaker put in, that she needs some recovery care, and that you, too, need physical therapy on that arm and shoulder.”
“For starters,” he said as if that was all only the tip of the iceberg. “Livi speaks highly of you,” he added, those teal eyes steady on her. “She says you go above and beyond the call of duty.”
Why did she automatically go to thoughts of doing completely inappropriate things with him? That wasn’t the way he’d said it—he was all business.
Kinsey pushed the thoughts aside, saying, “Above and beyond the call of duty in what way?”
His well-shaped eyebrows arched as if he’d just realized what she might be thinking and he was quick to say, “I’m not talking fraternizing.” He glanced at Jack, now gnawing on his toy, and when he looked at her again he was expressionless. The military blank face—Kinsey knew that well, too.
“I’ve had some shocks in the last two months,” he said then, all business again. “There were a lot of things the colonel didn’t tell me—first and foremost that my father was in the hospital. I had no idea anything was going on here. Then I got notified of his death, long after it had happened...”
That did not sit well with him because boy, could that handsome face scowl!
“Left on her own, without my dad around, the colonel...” He shook his head. “At work, at home, she’s always had subordinate staff to take care of things—she was a lawyer and then a judge—”
“Did she have help at home other than your dad?”
“No, at home my dad took care of everything.”
Which made him subordinate staff?
“The point is,” Sutter continued, “my dad looked after everything around here. Including the colonel. Without him, the house, the yard, have gone downhill. And so has she. She’s always tended to hole up, get lost in her books, the journal she’ll probably turn into a memoir one day or her old war movie DVDs.”
Sutter shook his head in what seemed like some frustration. “She doesn’t cook, never has—so as far as I can tell all she’s been eating are cheese puffs and candy bars, and not much of those. She hasn’t kept the house up at all.”
“I would imagine your mother spent a lot of time at the hospital with your father while he was there,” Kinsey said. “Tough to keep up on home maintenance and do that, too.”
“Sure. But my dad died two months ago. When I got home, no one had checked the mail in weeks. There were condolence floral arrangements dead in their vases outside the front door. The refrigerator had rotten food in it.”
“Did she forget about those things?” Kinsey asked in case what they were discussing was the onset of dementia or Alzheimer’s.
He knew what she was asking, though, because he said, “The colonel is as sharp as she’s always been. It isn’t that. She’s slowed down over the years but she doesn’t have any major physical or cognitive problems. This is more about her needing to...”
He raised both hands in frustration. “She needs to change!” he said.
His movements gave Jack just enough freedom to jump down. The adorable puppy went to the basket of toys, ignored its contents and instead began waging war against the basket itself, dragging it into the center of the room. Sutter left him to it.
“I have people coming in to clean the house, to work on the yard. I can set up automatic payment for the bills, set up a grocery delivery. But without my dad, she’ll just keep herself cut off from everything outside of her den—I think some nights she doesn’t even bother to go up to her bedroom to sleep. She didn’t let in anyone who came to pay respects after my dad passed—she wouldn’t even come to the door.”
“Everyone reacts to grief in their own way,” Kinsey offered.
“Sure, but this isn’t grief, it’s how she’s always been. Day-to-day life has never been what she deals with. Her work, the military—that’s been it for her. Except for me and my dad.”
“And now with your dad gone, there’s just you,” Kinsey said.
“And I’m on extended leave until my shoulder heals, but then I need to rejoin my unit in Afghanistan. I can’t leave her the way she’s been living.”
Kinsey nodded her understanding.
“Somebody has to convince her to take better care of herself. Maybe if someone other than me, someone with some professional medical standing, gets on her about it, it’ll bring it home to her.”
“I can do that,” Kinsey assured.
“And she needs a network of support. She has to have people in her life, whether she knows it or admits it or not. She has to have human contact and she certainly won’t go find it for herself.”
“What about an assisted living facility—”
Another firm, definitive shake of his head stopped her from going on with that. “This house has been in her family for four generations, she won’t leave it. And she’s only accepting having you here until she gets back on her feet. I offered to get her live-in help and she blew a gasket—”
“I know it isn’t much comfort but what you’re describing isn’t all that uncommon. So what exactly are you wanting me to do beyond her recovery?” Kinsey asked.
But his frustration level was too high to give her calm, concrete answers. “Anything! I want you to do anything you can to get her out of her rut, to make her let people into her life, to take care of herself!”
It was an outburst that Kinsey could tell was out of the ordinary for him. He took a deep breath and exhaled to get himself under control. Then he went on unemotionally again. “Livi said you have a lot of good ideas. And if they come from someone other than me—” He heaved a sigh that was somewhere between frustration and disgust. “She won’t take suggestions from me. I tried talking to her about this stuff again yesterday and she actually pulled rank on me and just shouted for me to quit meddling in her life.”
Kinsey didn’t suppress her smile this time. “Are you sure she won’t figure she outranks me, too?” she joked.
Sutter actually laughed. He was even more good-looking when he did.
Not that that was something that mattered. She was just glad to have eased some of his tension.
Then, in a more confidential tone, he said, “And whatever you do, you can’t let her know that we even talked about this. If the colonel thinks I put you up to socializing her or networking her or whatever, she will dig her heels in and that’ll be it.”
“So you need me to work a miracle transformation on your mother and her life before you have to leave again—and not let her know you put me up to it,” she summarized.
“Yes.”
The wheels of Kinsey’s mind began to turn.
He was recruiting her for a conspiracy. A conspiracy to get him something he wanted. To reach a goal.
Could she do the same with him?
It would mean taking him into her confidence, something she was hesitant to do. But if she did, how much closer could she get to her own goal?
The chance to build a relationship with the Camdens was the whole reason she wanted this job. If Sutter could provide her with more direct contact with them, things could move along much quicker.
Or he could just throw her out when he found out her true motives.
Was it worth taking the risk?
“What you’re asking is above and beyond the call of duty,” she reminded him, deciding to take a chance. “But I’d be willing to give it a try if you might be willing to help me with something, too.”
“Like what?”
“I’d like to get to know the Camdens better.”
“You already know Livi,” he pointed out.
“We’re acquainted, yes,” Kinsey hedged. “But I’m interested in more than that. I mean I’ve met all of them—I went to one of their Sunday dinners but just in the role of nurse to my last patient. Everyone was nice and said hello, but that was it.”
“And you want more than that?” He sounded suspicious.
“I do. You’re an insider—”
“And you want to use that—me—to get close to them and do what?”
Oh, yeah, he was suspicious all right. She could understand why. The Camdens were one of the wealthiest families in the country thanks to their massive chain of superstores. There was probably no shortage of people who wanted to get close to them to take advantage in some way. But Kinsey wasn’t interested in their money or prestige.
“I’m not after anything but the chance to get to know them. For them to get to know me—”
“Why?” he demanded.
Should she inform him of something she hadn’t told anyone except her brothers?
“I’ll tell you here and now,” Sutter said sternly, “I don’t give a damn what you might be able to do for the colonel, I won’t help you work some kind of scam or angle on the Camdens.”
“That’s not what this is about! I told you, I don’t want anything from them but to get to know them.”
“To gain their trust and then what?”
Oh, he was thinking the worst of her—it was there in those penetrating teal eyes that were boring through her.
She realized that she was going to have to tell him the whole truth now just as damage control. Otherwise, she had no doubt that he’d do everything in his considerable power to make sure she never got within a mile of a Camden ever again.
So she steeled herself and said, “You’re part of the Camden family...” Deep breath. Exhale... “And so am I. Mitchum Camden was my brothers’ and my biological father.”