“Of course.” Caroline handed her the stamps with her change.
“Good day.”
“Good day,” Caroline replied, watching them leave.
“Good day, young man,” Edwina said as she passed Grady and winked.
Caroline wasn’t sure what to make of the wink. If Grady noticed it, he didn’t let on.
He touched the brim of his hat and stepped around the two women in his rush to reach the counter.
“Can I help you?” Caroline asked, lowering her gaze for fear of what he might read in her eyes.
“As a matter of fact you can.” Grady’s voice echoed in the room.
She waited, figuring he wasn’t going to ask for stamps.
“I’m here to talk some sense into you.”
“Grady, listen—”
“Hear me out first. The last time we spoke I asked you to marry me and you turned me down.”
Caroline doubted he’d ever fully comprehend how difficult it had been to reject him. She’d wanted to say yes more than anything she’d ever wanted in her life. But no self-respecting woman willingly entered a marriage if she believed she’d be a burden to her husband. Even loving him the way she did, she couldn’t do that to him. Couldn’t do it to herself.
“Be warned,” he said, lowering his voice.
“Warned?”
“This time I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Grady, please…” He made this so damned hard.
“Sorry, it’s too late for that. I don’t want anyone but you.”
She looked away rather than meet his gaze.
“For the past six years I’ve worked day and night and done without—just so I could make up for what we lost because of Richard. He’s stolen six years of my life, Caroline. He’s robbed me and Savannah of too much already, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let him rob me of anything else.”
“I…I don’t understand.”
“If you allow Richard to stand between us now, it’ll be one more thing my brother’s taken from me. But this time I’m not the only person he’s hurting. He’s hurting you and Maggie, as well. Is that what you want?”
“No.” Her voice sounded weak, unconvincing.
“You appear to have doubts.”
“I… There’s more than just me to consider,” she said.
“Okay, let’s talk about Maggie.”
Slowly Caroline raised her eyes to his. Her daughter had to come first. Always. “What about Maggie?”
“I love her, too.” It was the first time Grady had mentioned his feelings for her child, the first time he’d said this. “I’m looking to be more than your husband, Caroline. I’m looking to be Maggie’s daddy.”
She bit her lower lip.
“My brother might have fathered this child, but I’ll be the one to raise her, to love her, to kiss her skinned knee. I’ll put her to bed at night, sit with her when she learns to read, teach her how to ride Moonbeam. Me, not Richard.”
It was a long speech for Grady, and every word was heart felt. Caroline knew that in her bones, sensed it deep inside. They were the words of a man who understood that fatherhood was more than biological. Much more.
“Oh, Grady…”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“I—”
The door opened and Nell Bishop walked in with Jeremy and Emma. “Hello,” she said with a cheerful wave as she headed for her post-office box.
“Hello, Mr. Weston.”
“Howdy, Jeremy.”
“We’re going swimming in the pool,” Emma announced.
Nell sorted through her mail. “Come on, you two,” she said and steered her children toward the door. She paused to look back at Grady and Caroline. “Everything all right?” she asked cautiously.
“Yes,” Grady barked.
Caroline nodded.
Nell, who’d been married to a man as stubborn and lovable as the one standing there in front of her, smiled. “Yes, I can see that everything is coming along nicely.” Then she and her children left.
“What’d she mean by that?” Grady demanded.
Caroline shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her.”
“Well?”
The gruff question caught her by surprise. “Well, what?”
“Are you going to change your mind about marrying me or not?”
“I—”
“You’re a fool if you turn me down.”
“Honestly, Grady—”
“You aren’t likely to get a better offer.”
This last comment irked her no end. “What makes you so sure?” she snapped. “Look, Grady,” she began before he could answer, “let me ask you a question. Do you love me?”
“You know I do.”
“You might have said so.”
“I did,” he insisted.
“When?”
“The first time I proposed.”
“Oh.” Well, that was true. But everything hinged on how much he loved her. “I’m afraid we’d be a burden to you.”
“How?”
Caroline swallowed. “Every time you look at Maggie—and me—you’ll be reminded of Richard. That’s what I’m afraid of. We’d be just another problem Richard left for you to fix.”
“That’s not the way I see it, Caroline. I told you, remember? I won’t let Richard take another thing away from me. And you know what? For the first time in his life, my brother has given me something wonderful. He’s hurt me, true, but he’s also blessed me—in you. In Maggie.”
“But—”
“Obviously the question is, do you love me?” he said. “You seem to be the one having trouble making up your mind.”
“I love you so damn much,” she confessed.
No sooner had the words left her lips than Grady reached across the counter for her. Their positions, the obstacle between them, made the kiss awkward. It hardly mattered. They’d kissed countless times by now, but no kiss had ever meant this much.
It was a meeting of their hearts.
His mouth was warm and urgent against hers.
“We’re getting married,” he whispered.
“Yes,” she whispered back. She whimpered when he deepened the kiss, then wrapped her arms around his neck and invited the exploration of his tongue.
The sound of someone entering the post office broke them apart. Caroline looked up guiltily, feeling a little shy.
Dovie Boyd stood in the foyer. She nodded toward them. “Hello, Grady. Caroline.”
“Hi, Dovie,” Caroline said, grateful Dovie wasn’t a gossip. She shuddered to think of the con sequences if someone like Louise or Tammy Lee had happened upon them in each other’s arms.
“You’re the first to hear our good news,” Grady said, taking Caroline’s hand. He grasped it firmly in his own, then raised it to his lips. “Caroline has agreed to be my wife.”
Dovie’s eyes grew wide. “Congratulations! I couldn’t be happier.” She opened her purse and took out a linen handkerchief. “I really…couldn’t…be…happier,” she said, sniffling and dabbing at her eyes. “You’re a wonderful couple and…and I think it’s just wonderful, really I do.” She turned abruptly and walked out, apparently for get ting what had brought her to the post office in the first place.
GRADY, CAROLINE AND MAGGIE sat on the front-porch swing. “Will I call you daddy?” Maggie asked Grady.
“Of course. If you want to.”
She nodded. “Then I’ll have a daddy.”
“Yes, princess, you’ll have a daddy.”
“And Mommy will have a husband.”
“And Grady’ll have a family.” He tucked his arm around Caroline’s shoulder, loving her so much.
“Us,” Maggie said and tossed her arms in the air. “Your family is us.”
“What do you think of that?” Caroline asked her daughter.
Maggie considered the question a moment, looked up at Grady and slowly grinned. “You don’t do magic tricks,” she said, “but I like you better ’cause you l
ove me and Mommy.”
“That,” Grady said, “is very true. You’re both very easy to love.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Caroline whispered and leaned her head against his shoulder, utterly content.
DR. TEXAS
CHAPTER 1
TEXAS IS THE ONLY STATE big enough to hold your dreams. Someone had told Dr. Jane Dickinson that when she signed up for this gig. But whoever it was obviously hadn’t lived in Promise.
With medical-school bills the size of the national debt, signing a three-year agreement to practice medicine in the Texas Hill Country in exchange for partial payment had seemed the perfect solution. Whatever romanticizing she’d done when she’d first thought about making the move from urban California to the heart of rural America had faded with the reality of her situation. Texas had bugs practically as big as pit bulls and she’d always been somewhat phobic about insects, whether they were of the crawling or flying variety. More serious, more disturbing, was the fact that she simply didn’t fit in with this community. People were never less than polite, but they hadn’t accepted her. They came to her as a last resort—if they couldn’t cure whatever ailed them on their own—and then complained because she wasn’t Doc Cummings. Being fresh out of medical school, female and a good fifty years younger than the beloved practitioner hadn’t helped, either.
But although Jane was lonely and often at loose ends, she felt that she’d begun to make strides. Becoming friends with Dovie Boyd had a lot to do with that. The older woman owned an antique shop with the small Victorian Tea Room tucked in one corner, and she’d generously offered Jane not only friend ship but advice. Life had taken a decided turn for the better since that first morning Jane had spoken to Dovie.
Her last scheduled patient for the day had left, and so had Jenny Bender, her receptionist. Jane sat at her desk, leaning com fort ably back in her chair. The makeup she’d applied that morning had long since dissolved in sweat, and her feet ached. It’d been a busy day, which was a good sign. It meant that more people of Promise were coming to trust her skills.
Ellie Patterson was due to return from her honeymoon this week, too. Her second new friend was a local businesswoman. They’d recently met, thanks to Dovie. Jane liked Ellie’s no-nonsense approach to life, her quick wit and down-to-earth attitude. After having lunch together, Jane could tell they had the potential to become good friends. She hoped that was the case, because at this point she needed all the friends she could get.
A distinct noise in the outer office cut into her thoughts, and Jane stood up to investigate.
“Is someone here?” she called, walking out of her office.
Nothing.
“Hello,” she tried again, wondering if she was beginning to hear things.
“Dr. Jane?” A child’s voice came from the waiting room.
Jane found six-year-old Maggie Daniels standing just inside the clinic door. “Oh, hi, Maggie.”
The little girl’s pigtails fell forward as she lowered her head. “Hello.”
Maggie’s mother was Promise’s postmistress, and the post office was next door to the health clinic. She’d talked to Caroline Daniels a number of times and had heard just a day or two ago that Caroline and a local cattle rancher, Grady Weston, were now engaged.
“Where’s your mother?” Jane asked. It was unusual for Maggie to come to the clinic by herself.
“At work,” she answered, still keeping her head lowered. Her arms were wrapped protectively around her stomach.
Jane knelt down in front of her. “Are you feeling all right, Maggie?”
The little girl shook her head.
“Where do you feel sick?”
“My tummy.”
Jane brushed the hair from the child’s forehead and checked for fever. Maggie’s skin was cool to the touch. “Does your mommy know you’re here?”
Maggie’s head flew up, her eyes wide with alarm. “No! Please don’t tell her, okay?”
“But if she doesn’t know where you are, she might worry.”
“She said I could play while she finished work. Mrs. Murphy had to drop me off early today ’cause she had a dentist appointment.”
Jane assumed Mrs. Murphy baby-sat Maggie after school.
“Is something at school bothering you?” Jane guessed, thinking this stomach ache might be linked to an incident there. School had been in session a little more than two weeks. That Maggie didn’t want her mother to know where she was aroused Jane’s suspicions. Perhaps Maggie had gotten into trouble with her teacher and was worried about what would happen when her mother found out. Either that, or she suffered doubts or fears regarding her mother’s recent engagement.
“I like school,” Maggie said, and her face brightened. “I’m in first grade this year.”
“But you’re not feeling well?”
The little girl shook her head, sending her pigtails swaying. “My tummy hurts.”
“Okay,” Jane said. “Maybe we’d better have a look.” She held out her hand to Maggie, who slipped her own small one into Jane’s.
“You won’t tell Mommy?” Maggie pleaded again.
“Not if you don’t want me to,” Jane said, although she wondered if it was wise to make such a promise. But it was clear the child was deeply upset about something. While Jane didn’t have a lot of training in pediatrics, she suspected that if she hadn’t reassured Maggie, the child would have bolted.
Playing the situation by ear, Jane led Maggie into the examination room and lifted her easily onto the table.
“Take off your backpack and I’ll listen to your tummy,” Jane instructed, picking up her stethoscope.
Slowly and with obvious reluctance Maggie did as she was asked, but when Jane went to move the backpack off the table, Maggie grabbed it back and clung to it. Jane realized immediately that whatever bothered the child was in that backpack.
“Is there something important in your bag?” Jane asked casually.
Maggie nodded. She tucked her chin tight against her chest. Finally, hesitantly, Maggie opened the zipper. Twice she paused and glanced up at Jane as if questioning the wisdom of continuing.
Jane allowed the girl to make the decision on her own. Apparently Maggie had decided to trust her, because once she had the bag completely open, she withdrew an old dilapidated-looking doll. It was either a replica of an antique or the genuine thing, although that didn’t seem likely. Either way, the doll had seen better days. It was falling apart. The face appeared hand-stitched, the once red lips faded to a pale pink. The muslin dress had probably been white but was now a washed-out shade of yellow. The dull calico apron had frayed edges. Despite its condition, the doll had a certain appeal. At one time it must have been the much-loved toy of some young girl.
“I want you to keep it,” Maggie said in a small tense voice as she held out the doll.
“But I couldn’t do that,” Jane pro tested.
“Please…” Big tears welled in Maggie’s dark eyes. “I took it…” She clutched her stomach with both arms. “I’m sorry for taking her away from—” She stopped and her lower lip started to wobble, but she quickly pulled her emotions together.
“Can’t you take it back to the person it belongs to?” Jane asked.
Maggie shook her head vigorously, the pigtails whipping about her face.
Jane frowned. “So you want me to keep her for you?”
Maggie nodded.
Perhaps that was the best solution. Again Jane followed her instincts, which told her that pressing Maggie to tell her anything more was a mistake. The little girl clearly regretted having taken the doll and wasn’t sure how to handle the situation now.
“All right. I’ll do that.” She could display the old doll in her office in the hope that whoever owned it would come to her and ask. That would save Maggie the embarrassment of having to return it.
“I promise to take good care of your friend,” Jane said solemnly. She helped Maggie down from the table. “Come on, let’s find a n
ew home for your doll.” Perhaps later Jane could make a few discreet inquiries. Dovie might know something or have a suggestion, since she owned an antique shop—although the older woman seemed unusually distracted at the moment. Jane assumed it had something to do with Frank Hennessey, the local sheriff, who’d been Dovie’s longtime male friend. Apparently they’d had some kind of argument and were no longer seeing each other.
Maggie slipped her hand into Jane’s as they walked into the small office once occupied by Doc Cummings. The most logical place to set the doll was on the book shelf, which looked out into the hallway. Anyone passing by was sure to see it.
Carefully Jane put the toy on the top shelf. “Okay,” she said and took a step back. “What do you think?”
The youngster smiled and released a great sigh. “My tummy doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“That’s wonderful.” A miracle cure, Jane mused; she must be a better doctor than she’d imagined. “If you want to come and visit your friend, you’re welcome to do that anytime,” Jane told her.
Maggie shook her head, then whirled around. “Mommy’s calling,” she said. Racing down the hallway, she grabbed her backpack from the examination table and flew toward the waiting room. She paused abruptly and looked back. “Thank you, Dr. Jane.”
“You’re welcome,” Jane said with a smile.
Then Maggie disappeared out the door.
If only dealing with her other patients was this easy.
DOVIE BOYD WAS MISERABLE. She wandered between the lush rows of her garden, picking ripe tomatoes from her heavily laden plants. Her only consolation was that Frank Hennessey probably felt even worse than she did. For ten years they’d been friends. More than friends. During those years they’d talked frequently of marriage—with Dovie generally bringing up the subject. Frank had been a bachelor all his life; Dovie understood that marriage would be a big change for him and had been patient. No, she thought now, she’d been stupid. Although she loved Frank, she’d never been completely comfortable with their arrangement. He knew that, which must be why he’d made promises he didn’t intend to keep. When she pressured him about it after Ellie Frasier and Glen Patterson’s wedding, he owned up to the fact that he simply couldn’t marry her. He loved her, he claimed, but he wasn’t the marrying kind. He just couldn’t do it.
Heart of Texas Vol. 2 Page 17