Sticky Notes - A clean romance (Ethel King Series Book 1)

by Sherri Schoenborn Murray

  Katherine said a silent “Yippee” as she crutched across the living room.

  “Hi, Mrs. King, is Katherine home?” It was Hannah holding a puppy.

  “Hannah, you got your new puppy!” Katherine crutched closer. The puppy was adorable, glossy black with tan markings.

  “We just got him today. He’s only six-months-old, and his name’s Bruno.” The puppy stretched its neck to lick Hannah’s cheek. “He’s a dachshund.”

  “Oh, isn’t he sweet.” Grandma stroked his back.

  “Can you tell your boyfriend thank you for me?” Hannah looked at Katherine.

  “Uh . . .” She couldn’t very well ask a ten-year-old which boyfriend? She swallowed. “Why? What did he do?”

  “He put a twenty dollar bill in the fish bowl when I wasn’t looking.”

  “Are you sure? Sure it was him?” Katherine leaned against her crutches.

  “Yeah. You’d just got home from the hospital and, he said you were craving my lemonade.”

  Quinn Benton. Warm waves gushed at her heart.

  “I saw the twenty dollar bill after he went back to your house. Bye.” Hannah nuzzled the puppy against her cheek and then started down the porch steps.

  “Congratulations, Hannah,” Katherine called after her and sighed. Of all nights for Hannah to remind her of what a wonderful man Quinn was.

  Not wanting to be alone, she sat at the kitchen table. Head bowed Grandma worked on a crossword puzzle, a dictionary near her elbow.

  “Sharon canceled our get-together tonight. Her son’s in town. It’s just Pittsville. I looked forward to tonight all week, and . . .” Grandma shook her head. “What’s wrong, honey? You look as depressed as . . .” She glanced at the calendar and bit her lower lip. “Tonight’s Miss Palouse!”

  Katherine nodded. “I don’t think she canceled this time. Otherwise, we would have heard from him by now.”

  “After how moon doggy he’s been the last few weeks, you don’t have anything to worry about.” Grandma patted her hand.

  “I don’t know. There’s a bond between them. Before our kiss, she was all he could talk about. It was like the kiss changed Quinn’s mind. Not me.”

  Grandma smiled and shook her head. “He was thinking about you before the kiss. Maybe he was trying to put a wedge between the two of you by talking about her? So he could live up to all the—” Grandma did a quotes sign midair—“rules of being a professor.”

  Despite Grandma’s biased insight, tears collected in Katherine’s eyes.

  “Given how poorly you’re feeling about Quinn, do you really think you should go out with your doctor tonight?”

  “He knows how I feel about Quinn.”

  “Hmm . . .” Grandma’s brows gathered. “Well, Dr. Brad also knows how he feels about you. It’s not a good combination.”

  Grandma made her dilemma sound like a pizza. Was she being as dumb as a pizza box when it came to men? Maybe she just needed to tell God exactly what she wanted: I want Quinn Benton with no more games, no more small towns, and no anchovies.

  “Honey, I keep waiting for the Lord to show you something, but He hasn’t.” Grandma closed her crossword puzzle book. “And now I feel like He’s left it up to me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Follow me.” Grandma pushed her chair back from the table. “I have something to show you.”

  Why was she being so mysterious? Katherine crutched behind her through the living room. Whatever it was that she wanted to show her was in her bedroom. Grandma closed her door behind them.

  Katherine looked about the tidy room.

  “Meet Miss Palouse.” Grandma held a hand out to her side toward the back of the white-painted door, and, a bright full-color poster.

  She’d seen Kitty the nurse and Marci the Realtor, but the woman who had plagued her heart the most was Claire. Vote for Claire Westin or be run out of town. Katherine stared at the poster of the attractive woman who was running both for mayor and Quinn Benton’s heart.

  Did he know that she was two possibly three decades older than him? Would he care?

  “How long has it been here?” Katherine leaned on her crutches.

  “Since the day that I got my hair cut in the town of Palouse at Fran’s Beauty Parlor.” Grandma suppressed a smile. “Fran, the gal who cut my hair, gave it to me.”

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  “How was your day, Katherine?” Brad smiled over the top of the elegant, leather-bound menu. The Best Western Inn was one of the nicest dining establishments in Moscow.

  “I had a good day of studying.” He’d already informed her of his day—one knee replacement, and an emergency surgery that had made their date two hours later than expected.

  Because she’d already had dinner with Grandma, Katherine ordered a piece of chocolate cream pie.

  “I’ll have a porterhouse steak, medium rare, baked potato, and ranch dressing,” Brad told the waitress.

  “Did you make it to classes today?” he asked over the top of his water glass.

  “Yes, Grandma took me and picked me up. I surprisingly didn’t fall asleep in either of my two classes.”

  “One of those classes is with Benton?” One sandy blond brow lifted higher than the other.

  “Yes.”

  “How was he?”

  “Professional.” At the end of class, Benton had told her it was nice to have her back.

  “When you first arrived at the hospital, the professors’ group told me quite a bit about you.” Setting his elbows on the table, he appeared thoughtful. “I know you’re from Vancouver, and that you taught there at a secondary level for four years before returning to the U of I for your master’s.”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “What about you?”

  “I grew up in Spokane. I went to U-Dub—University of Washington—for my undergraduate, before continuing on to med school. I had two relationships in college, but there were problems. I didn’t want to marry until I was through with my schooling, and neither of them wanted to wait that long. So here I am, a thirty-five-year-old bachelor with an extreme passion for boating.”

  He was well educated, likable, young, and good looking. It shouldn’t be too hard for him to find Miss Right. But she couldn’t be the one to tell him that.

  “Do you need to talk, Katherine, about someone in particular?”

  She nodded, thankful that he’d asked. “He’s come to his senses. After tonight and Miss Palouse, he wants it to be just us.” There, she’d said what had delighted and tormented her night and day.

  “Now, Miss Palouse is the one he’s looked forward to meeting for months?” Brad set his jaw to his hand.

  “Yes.”

  “If I remember right, he told you other things in between his other dates. He’s been good about keeping your hopes up. And now that you have a serious admirer, he’s threatened.”

  “It’s been a little confusing.” She agreed.

  The waitress delivered Brad’s order—a nicely grilled steak, and baked potato, with steamed carrots and zucchini. She also slid the slice of decadent chocolate cream pie in front of Katherine. As soon as Brad picked up his silverware, she sank her fork down through the whipped cream and, chocolate layer, and into the flaky crust.

  “I wonder what brought him to his senses more... your accident or me?”

  “I haven’t asked him.”

  “You’ve told me how he feels. How do you feel?” He took a bite of steak and chewed.

  “If Miss Palouse isn’t right for Quinn, then I would like the opportunity to answer the questions I’ve had about him all summer.” There she’d told him the truth.

  “You’re a bright girl, Katherine. If he continues to blind date, that will be a huge sign to you, won’t it? You won’t let him continue to play games, will you?”

  “Quinn’s not playing games; he’s sincerely confused.” She gripped her hands together beneath the table. “Brad, I’m the one playing games.”

  His eyes narrowed. He was
a good guy, a decent fellow and human being. He’d been her buoy during a difficult storm, and she owed him an apology.

  “Next Friday, I can’t go out with you, because I’m Quinn’s date, Miss Wazzu.” She waited for his reaction.

  He salted and peppered his baked potato.

  “Evans set it up. We’re meeting at Alex’s in Pullman. Quinn has no idea it’s me.”

  Brad leaned his head to one side. “In his mind, you’re the one who’s supposed to be there after Miss Palouse, waiting for him in the wings. Or does he know you’re waiting? Oh, but that’s right, you’re with me. Am I supposed to make him worry?” He sprinkled chives over his potato.

  “You were such a buoy to me at the hospital.”

  He reached across the table, and his hand gently clasped hers. “There’s a history between you and Benton that I can’t probably begin to compete with, but I’d like to try. The question is, has he already won your heart?”

  “Yes.” She had to be firm with him. “Yes, he has.”

  Learn from this, Katherine told herself: Don’t go out with your doctor when you’re in love with your professor, even if it is for just a piece of pie.

  Ж

  Cindy answered Evans’s door and smiled warmly at Katherine and Brad. “Dr. Ungerbach, I heard your first name is Brad. I’m Cindy. I met you briefly at the hospital that day.”

  Brad held out his hand and smiled. “It’s nice to meet you again, Cindy.” Grilled asparagus permeated the main floor. After sliding off their shoes, they followed Cindy into the kitchen, where Evans stood at the island pouring boiling water into a teapot.

  “Brad, nice to see you again.” Evans nodded. “Quinn will be here any minute. He called about a half hour ago as he was leaving the town of Palouse.”

  “I didn’t catch where you’re from that day at the hospital,” Brad said. “Your hometown.”

  “Beverley, a small town in East Yorkshire, known for its impressive architecture.” Evans beefed up his accent.

  “Aawh.” Cindy audibly swooned while she transferred madeleines from a cooling rack to a scallop-edged platter.

  “How did you end up here?” Brad asked.

  “I met my first wife at Cambridge. She was from the States. I moved here, went through a nasty divorce, and later met my second wife in California. I accepted the position at the University of Idaho to get away from her. I’ve been divorced for the last fourteen years.”

  Evans grinned and walked around the island to greet Katherine with a hug. “Be kind tonight,” he whispered and then said a little too loud, “I’m in love with my new madeleine pan.”

  “Flexipan,” Cindy said.

  “Yes, her too.”

  The front door clicked open and closed.

  “Hello, Benton,” Evans said as Quinn entered the kitchen. Katherine couldn’t see him, as Brad’s broad shoulders blocked the way. “As always, you’re unreadable. Everyone go ahead and get comfortable.”

  When Brad brushed past her to the living room, she caught a glimpse of Quinn. He wore his Vandal gold-colored polo, which she deemed appropriate, as only a month ago the rolling hills outside the town of Palouse were bathed in vibrant gold canola.

  While Katherine sat on her normal side of the loveseat, Brad sat on Carl’s usual side. As always, Benton claimed the wingback chair. He crossed one knee over the other and avoided their area of the room by looking at Evans and Cindy.

  There was not an ethereal glow about him. He didn’t appear energetic enough to have just met the second love of his life. Did he know Claire was older? She’d always pictured her as young, under sixty. Cindy slid a platter of madeleines onto the coffee table.

  Evans set down a large tray hosting a black china teapot and four matching cups. “I thought we’d celebrate Benton finally meeting Miss Palouse by using my first ex-wife’s Staffordshire set.” He poured tea and handed Katherine an exquisite matching cup and saucer.

  “Thank you.”

  “What did your evening involve?” Evans looked at Katherine.

  “Brad and I went to dinner at the Best Western. I’d already eaten with Grandma, but I had a piece of pie.”

  “I was running later than expected and was in surgery until almost nine,” Brad said.

  Evans nodded and sat down beside Cindy on the couch. “Carl called. He knew it was too early for an update, but he has one for us. His new girlfriend, Marci—from Garfield—and he are doing fabulously, and he hopes to bring her to the group sometime in the near future. Now, Benton, it’s your turn.”

  Quinn rolled a kink out of his neck. Katherine tried to remember if the kink was out of character for Friday nights.

  “I’ll call her Sandra. It will be one syllable shorter than Miss Palouse. As I knew she’d be from our phone conversations, Sandra’s intelligent, perceptive, and candid.”

  Katherine held her teacup and saucer with both hands and waited for him to describe something besides her mind. What did he think of the woman in the poster?

  “We met at seven and dined at a burger place on Main Street in downtown Palouse. It was dimly lit, with a solid oak wood bar that ran the length of the establishment with old-fashioned chrome stools. We sat in a booth. Good hometown food. The fries were hand cut and exceptionally good. After dinner, we walked for at least an hour through the downtown area. The hillside on the north borders the Main Street area and the Palouse River runs along the south side of town.”

  “Enough about Palouse, Benton; I drive through it monthly on my way to Spokane,” Evans said. “I believe we’re all familiar with the little town.” Evans scanned the group.

  “Spokane’s my hometown,” Brad said, wrapping his arm along the back of the couch. His hand ended up behind Katherine’s neck.

  It must be for show; he knew exactly where he stood.

  Was Quinn trying to prolong their anticipation?

  Evans scratched behind one ear. “You’ve described the hand-cut fries more than Claire, I mean Sandra.”

  “Yes, well, I thought Cindy and Katherine would appreciate the setting. There’s one main street of businesses, and a museum, and the population’s around one thousand, though we only saw a handful of people there tonight.”

  “Yes, Benton, but what did the female seated across the table from you look like?” Evans asked.

  Quinn’s chest inflated. “As she described herself, Sandra has moderate-length blonde hair with, um . . . brown eyes.”

  “Hmph . . .” Evans said. “Her portrait is indistinct, kind of a cross between Marilyn Monroe and the Mona Lisa.”

  “Before our date, I knew that Sandra has made a vested interest in Palouse; she’s running for mayor this November, and tonight only confirmed for me that she should win.” Quinn took a sip of tea and crossed one leg over the other. “I was ready to invest in Palouse by the time we returned to her elegantly restored farmhouse. Through her front living room windows, she has a view of the pastoral rolling hills as well as the idyllic town. I’ve always wanted a place with a view.”

  Katherine smiled slightly. She reminded herself that Benton was always longwinded about his blind dates. She wanted him to get to the point. Now that he’d finally met Miss Palouse, what did he think about this woman . . . Sandra . . . Claire?

  “Sandra made decaf coffee.” Quinn rolled another kink out of his neck. Had she caught a hint of a smile?

  “It sounds like this was your best blind date yet.” Cindy picked up a madeleine.

  “Most definitely.” Quinn nodded.

  Katherine’s heart tightened like a corset being cinched.

  “Did you schedule a second?” Evans asked.

  “No, not yet.”

  Hurry up, Benton. Everyone had been waiting months for him to finally meet her, and now he was prolonging the inevitable.

  Quinn tapped his fingers lightly against the side of his teacup. “Sandra’s a remarkable woman; she listens right to the heart of a person.”

  Evans’s gaze narrowed. “And . . . ?”
r />   Katherine’s throat burned with frustration and tears. What did he think of the woman who resembled Dolly Parton in both shape and appearance?

  “And . . .” Quinn’s gaze moved to the bowl of walnuts and lifted to Katherine’s eyes. “She’s older than my mother.”

  The binding loosened about her heart.

  Poor Quinn. Poor, poor Quinn.

  Evans leaned forward and carefully set down his teacup on the coffee table before he threw his head back and howled. Katherine and Cindy laughed softly while Quinn and Brad remained stoic.

  “I knew there was a reason you had not described her physically,” Evans said. “Usually, you give us hints throughout. This time, nothing.”

  “I don’t know how it happened. I was with you and Guttenheimer that day at the jazz festival.” Quinn’s eyes grew wide. “It was my first time meeting Guttenheimer.”

  “Yes!” Evans pointed at him. “You were wearing that matching derby hat and tweed jacket of yours. You looked dreadful. Weren’t you recovering from the flu?”

  “Yes.” Quinn’s jaw dropped. “He gave me Claire’s phone number because he thought that I’m much older than I am.”

  Evans slapped his leg and laughed.

  “Who’s Guttenheimer?” Cindy nudged Evans.

  “An old colleague of mine who drives from the Tri-Cities every year for the festival. Now, next Friday is Miss Pullman, or should we call her Miss Wazzu?”

  Katherine stiffened. She couldn’t bring herself to glance at Brad.

  “I don’t know, Evans.” Quinn sighed. “I’m in need of a respite. Maybe respite care.” His chuckle was not convincing.

  If only she weren’t with Brad tonight, Quinn could take her home, and she’d hold him in her arms and reassure him that everything was going to be okay.

  Ж

  “I thought the evening would be far stuffier than it was,” Brad said during their drive home. “They’re a fun group of people. Thank you, Katherine, for allowing me to join you.”