by Linda Turner
"Then you're ready to go to work?"
"Sure, if you need me. When do you want me to start?" There was, Nick decided, a god, after all. Grinning, he dropped down into the chair behind his desk. "How does tomorrow night sound to you?"
* * *
If Merry hadn't known better, she would have sworn she'd stepped back in time. Red-and-white crepe paper streamers hung from the rafters of the gym, jut as they had for every school dance she'd ever attended, and the song being belted out by the band had been number one on the charts the summer she graduated from high school. With Nick at her side, she only had to close her eyes, pretend Thomas flanked her on the other side, and she was back in high school.
But Thomas was nowhere in sight, she wasn't eighteen any more, and she wouldn't have gone back to that time in her life even if she could have. For too long, she'd held on to the past and the fairy-tale romance she'd had with Thomas when they were kids. When he'd come back into her life last year when his mother broke her hip, it was as if all the years since high school had never happened. They'd stepped right back into the puppy love they'd once shared and mistakenly assumed that it had grown into something stronger. It hadn't.
Never again, she promised herself. She didn't want to live in the past any more. Not when the present was so much more promising now that she'd finally admitted to herself that she didn't love Thomas. That was then, this was now, and now was really starting to get interesting.
Not surprisingly, people started talking the second they spied her with Nick, just as she'd known they would. She tried to ignore it, but some people made that impossible. "Oh, God, there's Winona Cobb," she groaned. "I haven't seen her since she moved to Denver eight years ago. And she's coming over. Damn!"
"C'mon, Mer, this is our chance to have some fun," Nick told her with a wicked grin. "Just play along with me, okay?"
She should have said no. Winona had always been the biggest gossip in school, and Merry had never cared for her. The last thing she wanted to do was spend any time talking to her. But Nick had that glint in his eye that warned her he wasn't going to take no for an answer, so there was nothing she could do but grin and bear it as Winona rushed up and hugged her like she was a long-lost friend.
"Hi! My goodness, it's so good to see you! You look wonderful! Doesn't she look great, Nick? And so do you," she gushed, hugging him. "So how are you two? I hear you've been seeing each other—"
"Every chance we get," Nick assured her as he took Merry's hand and gazed into her eyes like a lovesick fool. "I'm trying to talk her into moving in with me."
If she hadn't been braced for something outrageous, Merry would have choked on a gasp. Instead, it was all she could do not to burst out laughing when Winona's jaw nearly dropped to the ground. Drawing Nick's hand to her cheek, she nuzzled against him. "I told you why I couldn't do that, honey-bunny. My brothers would come after you with a shotgun."
"B-but you and Thomas were going to get married just last month, weren't you?" Winona said, frowning in confusion. "And now you're thinking about moving in together. Aren't you rushing things a little?"
"I don't know how the hell you can say that," Nick retorted. "We've known each other all our lives."
"But she was in love with Thomas!"
"Well, yeah," he said with a shrug. "But that didn't work out, so I figured, what the hell. I've waited long enough. She's free now, and I don't ever plan on walking down the aisle for any woman, so why not live together? She was all prepared to live with Thomas, so why not me, right?"
Stunned, Winona looked back and forth between the two of them, unable to believe that this was coming from two of the most conservative people in their graduating class. But she'd heard it with her own ears. Already anticipating people's reaction to this juicy tidbit of information, she started to tell them she'd see them both later, only to just then notice the mischief dancing in their eyes.
She froze, her gaze narrowing suspiciously. "Wait a minute. Is this some kind of joke?"
"No!" Nick retorted in pretended shock, making no attempt to hide his grin. "What was your first clue, Winona?"
In high school, she'd never responded well to teasing and that, apparently, hadn't changed. Puffing up like a toad she sniffed, "You always did have a sick sense of humor Nick Kincaid! Go ahead and laugh. Enjoy yourself!" Steaming, she walked off in a huff.
Far from insulted, Nick mimicked, "Well, at least I have a sense of humor."
Beside him, Merry couldn't help but laugh. "You've done it now. You know how spiteful she is. Now she's going to tell everyone what you said and leave out the part that you were joking."
"Let her," he retorted with a grin. "We'll be the talk of the reunion."
They were already that—their classmates who still lived in Liberty Hill had already spread the word about Merry and Thomas's breakup—but no one believed Winona's vicious lies. Within minutes, they were surrounded by friends, and Winona was left alone to glare at them from across the gym.
When Thomas arrived, Merry's heart sank at the sight of him. She hadn't heard from him since she'd talked to him in the hallway outside his mother's hospital room, and she'd really started to hope that he'd finally accepted the fact that she no longer loved him. But here he was, ready to cause trouble once again.
She didn't say a word to Nick, but she didn't have to. She felt him stiffen at her side and knew that he'd seen Thomas, too. And he wasn't any happier about it than she was.
Don't! she wanted to cry when Thomas finally spotted them in the crowd and her eyes locked with his. Don't do this to us! Please, just let it go. Let me go!
She didn't say anything, but she knew he heard every word. From across the gym, she could see the pain in his eyes, the longing he made no attempt to hide. And in spite of the way he'd hurt her, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Then he took a step toward her.
She stiffened—she couldn't help it—but she needn't have worried. He didn't come any closer, but just stood there for what seemed like an eternity, staring at her. It wasn't until he gave her a silent salute, then turned and walked out of the gym that she realized he was telling her goodbye.
* * *
She was quiet on the way home, and Nick didn't push her to talk. After Thomas had left, they'd both relaxed and enjoyed the rest of the evening, but he'd been aware of the fact that something was troubling her. And it didn't take a genius to figure out that it was Thomas. She'd laughed and smiled and joked with their classmates, but she hadn't been the same after she'd spied Thomas in the gym. And that had him worried. Did she regret breaking things off with him?
Frowning, he pulled up before her house and cut the engine, then walked her to her door. In the stark glare of the porch light she'd left on, his face looked like it was carved in stone as he watched her dig in her purse for her keys. "Have you changed your mind?"
Distracted, she glanced up. "About what?"
"Thomas. Have you decided you still love him, after all?"
"No!" Shocked, she nearly dropped her purse. "Why would you think that?"
"I saw your face when he left the gym tonight. For a minute there, I thought you were going to cry. What's going on, Mer?"
She hesitated, struggling to find the words to explain what she was feeling when she wasn't quite sure herself. "I haven't changed my mind, but I guess when he left tonight, we both realized that it was really over. And there's a part of me that's saddened by that. We had so much fun together, and now it's come to this. I know it's for the best, and I wouldn't go back to what we had before even if could, but I do regret the way things ended. We've been friends forever, Nick. And now we're not even talking."
"Sometimes you don't appreciate what you have until you lose it," he said huskily. "I'm sure that's what Thomas is going through right now. It can't be easy for him to see you with someone else—I know. I've been in his shoes. But that doesn't mean it's always going to be this way. He just needs some time to adjust to the change in the status quo."
&n
bsp; She knew he was right—everything had changed and they were all still trying to get their bearings, she, most of all. Once, she would have hugged him for understanding and never given it a thought. But that was before she'd known that his feelings for her were much deeper than those of just a friend. Now, she didn't touch him, even in the old playful way they had in the past. She missed that and didn't have a clue how to get it back. She was afraid that if she said anything, he would think she was hinting that she wanted a more physical relationship. And while her heart pounded at the very memory of his kiss, she wasn't sure she was ready for that just yet.
"I know. It's just hard sometimes." Shaking off her melancholy, she forced a smile. "Anyway, I had a great time tonight. I'm glad you talked me into going."
"Maybe next time it can be a real date," he teased. Taking her keys from her, he unlocked her front door and pushed it open, then handed her back her keys. "I had a great time, too," he said huskily, and before she could guess his intentions, he leaned over and softly kissed her cheek. "Good night, Mer. I'll see you tomorrow."
Her heart thumping crazily, she stood in front of her open door and watched, dazed, as he drove away. And all she could think of was that she wished he'd kissed her on the mouth.
* * *
It was hours after Nick left before she finally fell asleep, and even then, her dreams were filled with images of him. Restless, she woke the next morning long after she normally did and was shocked to find herself reaching for him. How had this happened? she wondered wildly. They weren't even dating yet—not really—and she couldn't get him out of her head. What would it be like when they really did get involved?
Her pulse racing at the thought, she reminded herself that she wasn't jumping right back into a relationship with Nick or anyone else. Not when she was still coming to grips with her breakup with Thomas. He probably wouldn't like it, but she had to do what was right for her—and that meant she was going to move slow and not jump into the water without seeing how deep it was.
A sound outside caught her attention then, and she rose from the bed, puzzled. It sounded like her lawnmower, she thought with a frown. But how could it be? She took care of her yard herself, and her mower wasn't one of those fancy electric ones that might, through some kind of electrical short, start by itself. It was the old-fashioned pull-cord kind, and not just anyone could start it. You had to set the throttle just right or it wouldn't do anything but groan. And only a few people knew that.
Thomas.
Her heart stopped at the thought, and with a muttered curse, she rolled out of bed and grabbed her robe. She'd given him too much credit last night, she fumed. She'd thought he'd finally realized he was beaten, but he'd just been biding his time, waiting for another chance to court her. Since flowers hadn't worked, he'd obviously hoped to get in her good graces by trying something else. And yard work had an advantage roses didn't—it couldn't be sent back.
This time, he'd gone too far, she told herself angrily as she marched to the front door. She'd tried to spare his feelings, to let him down as gently as possible, to be nice, dammit!—but he refused to get the message. And she was tired of it. This time, she'd be blunt, and if he didn't like it, that was too damn bad.
Yanking open the front door, she stormed outside, her robe flapping around her bare knees, hot words already tumbling off her tongue. "Damn you … Nick!"
Stunned, she stumbled to a stop, her eyes widening at the sight of Nick tinkering with the choke of her old, cantankerous lawnmower until it purred like a kitten. "What are you doing here?"
She had to raise her voice over the noise of the mower, but he heard her. "Mowing your grass," he said simply. "I noticed last night that it needed it and figured you didn't have time since you'd been working so hard on this rabies thing."
"But don't you have to work today?"
"It's Sunday," he reminded her. And although he was on call all day, he had calls to the office forwarded to his cell phone and didn't go into work unless there was some kind of emergency. "I guess I should have checked to see if you were awake first before I started the mower, but you're always such an early bird, I thought you'd be up. Sorry."
His gaze dipped down to the robe that covered her from her neck to midcalf, then quickly shifted back to her eyes. Heat singeing her cheeks, Merry reminded herself that he'd seen her in her nightclothes before and it wasn't anything to get bent out of shape about. But this was different, and they both knew it. Then, she'd thought of him as a buddy, a pal, a pseudo brother, and she hadn't thought a thing of it. But there was an awareness between them now that set her pulse skipping anytime they were within a mile of each other, and try though she might, she couldn't ignore it. Especially when she wore nothing but a skimpy nightgown and robe.
Shaken, she stuttered, "N-no. Don't apologize. I n-needed to get up, anyway. Have you eaten?"
"I had some coffee earlier, but that's it."
In desperate need of a graceful exit, she sighed in relief. "Good, then I'll get dressed and see what's in the refrigerator for breakfast. Come on inside when you're finished."
Turning, she bolted inside, chiding herself all the while. What in the world was wrong with her? She wasn't a woman who got flustered when a man showed her attention. It wasn't that she took it as her due—she would never do that—but she did know how to handle herself. Or at least, she always had in the past. She'd never stuttered before, even with Thomas.
So what was it about Nick that shook her composure? she wondered as she hurriedly pulled on jean shorts and a blue T-shirt, then stepped into the kitchen. What was it about him that made her heart knock against her ribs? Why, after knowing him for years, did she get this silly grin on her face whenever she thought of him? She'd thought she'd loved Thomas with all her heart, but he'd never, ever, made her feel like this. Why? What was going on?
Not sure she was ready for the answer to that, she tried to distract herself with cooking breakfast, and for a while it worked. She loved to cook but didn't do it often because it wasn't any fun cooking for one. So she indulged herself by pulling out her mother's recipe for homemade biscuits, then made bacon and eggs and hash browns. Okay, she told herself with a grin as she pulled the biscuits out of the oven, she was going overboard with the cholesterol. Normally, she was very conscious about her diet, but sometimes, you just had to cut loose. If Nick complained, she'd take out the whole-grain cereal.
Setting the food on the table, she heard the back door open behind her and turned with a smile. "You timed that perfectly. I just pulled the biscuits out of the oven—"
That was as far as she got. She took one look at Nick and whatever she was going to say next flew right out of her head. It was a fairly cool morning, but humid, and he'd worked up a sweat pushing the mower around. Perspiration dampened his navy blue knit shirt, molding it to the hard wall of his chest, and his dark brown hair stood up in spikes from where he'd run his hands through it. Her fingers itching to smooth it into place, it was all she could do not to reach out and touch.
"Mmm. That smells fantastic," he said with a smile that melted her heart. "Let me wash up and I'll be right with you."
Dazed, Merry nodded numbly, and expected him to head for the bathroom. Instead, he stepped over to the kitchen sink, whipped off his shirt, and began to splash water on his face and chest. She'd seen her brothers do the same thing countless times over the years and had never thought a thing of it, but her brothers weren't Nick. Fascinated, she felt her mouth go dry at the sight of him and couldn't have looked away if her life had depended on it.
When the phone rang, she reached for it blindly, never taking her eyes from him. "Hullo?"
"Merry! Thank God! Princess Leah's foaling and I think she's in trouble."
All her attention on Nick, it was a heartbeat later before the caller's words registered. Suddenly recognizing Harland Fitzgerald's worried voice, she stiffened and abruptly brought her attention back to work. Princess Leah was Harland's prize mare and pregnant with twin
s. And he had every right to be worried. Unlike other animals, horses didn't handle multiple births easily. In a large percentage of cases, one of the foals and sometimes the mother both died.
All business, she said, "Calm down, Harland. We're going to do everything for her we can. How long has she been in labor? How's her breathing? Is she in distress? How's she acting?"
An experienced horseman, he'd bred enough horses to know when one was in trouble, and as he hurriedly answered the questions Merry threw at him, it was apparent that the mare wasn't doing nearly as well as she could be. "I'll be right there," Merry assured him, worried herself. "Give me ten minutes."
Quickly hanging up the phone, her thoughts already jumping ahead to all the things that could go wrong during the foaling, she whirled, only to stop short at the sight of Nick standing in front of her holding out a biscuit to her with a couple of pieces of bacon wedged in the middle. Only then did she remember the elaborate breakfast she'd cooked for them. "Oh, Nick, I'm sorry!"
"Don't be ridiculous," he chided with an easy smile. "Duty calls and you've got to go. Don't worry about anything here. I'll put the food away, then lock up on my way out."
He made it so easy for her that she wanted to cry. Why had it taken her all these years to see what a wonderful man he was? Taking the quick breakfast sandwich he'd prepared for her, she smiled tremulously. "Thanks. I wish I could stay—"
"But you can't," he finished for her. "Go. Harland's mare needs you." And with a quick kiss, he turned her toward the door to the garage and gave her a gentle push. Left with no choice, she went.
* * *
Nick had intended to leave after he ate his own breakfast, but as he started cleaning up the kitchen and putting things away, he couldn't help but notice the irritating drip of the kitchen faucet. It was, he knew, a new faucet that had been installed last year, when Merry had rebuilt her house after the fire. Still under warranty, it shouldn't have been dripping after only a year of use—unless it was defective.