I parked the Volvo, scooped up my purse and Angel, and entered the establishment, which was relatively busy and smelled like French fries. A balding man behind the cash register shouted, “Hi there, how are you?”
“Fine,” I said, then remembered my manners. “How are you?”
He beamed. “If I was any better, you’d have to buy me!” I blinked.
“Stop flirting, Hap.” A rusty-haired woman in a smock sidled up and shook her head. “Excuse my husband, miss. He hasn’t looked in a mirror in twenty years.” The woman smiled. “Cute dog.”
“She’s not mine,” I said, “but thanks. Is it all right to have her in here?”
The woman nodded. “The health inspector is married to my sister.”
Fair enough. “Do either of you know Dr. Sam Long?”
Hap nodded. “Pert near everyone around here knows the doc. Is your dog sick?”
“She’s not mine,” I repeated. “But no. I’m a writer here to do a story on Dr. Long, and I lost the directions to his place.”
The woman’s face lit up. “Does this have anything to do with the doc being on the cover of Personal magazine?”
“Personality,” I corrected. “Yes, I work for the magazine. I’m doing a…follow-up piece.”
She wore the adoring expression of a mother. “We’re so proud of Doc Long. My great-aunt Maida was one of the folks he saved from the fire.”
“That’s wonderful.”
She nodded, then her expression turned suspicious. “Is the doc expecting you?”
“Yes.” Angel yipped. “Both of us,” I corrected.
“Did you just drive up from the city?”
“I did.”
“You’re a long way from home,” Hap said.
Not really, but I knew what he meant. I was also a little concerned that he could tell I was a city girl, although I decided that assessment might have something to do with the fact that I was holding a clothed dog.
“Are you staying with the doc?” he asked.
“Enough, Hap,” the wife said, giving him a shove. “You know Doc Long has guest quarters over his office.” She turned back to me and smiled. “We have a temperamental parakeet that we’ve taken out to see the doc a time or two. Have you had supper yet?”
“Supper? Urn, no.”
“Then my guess is you’ll need to grab a bite to eat in town before you head out to his place anyway. And since it’ll be dark soon, the doc will probably want to meet you so you don’t have to drive on that road alone.”
This was starting to sound ominous. “Is it far?”
“Not as the crow flies, but the doc lives in the boonies.”
I had a general idea of what the boonies were, but I opted for clarification. “Pardon me?”
Hap grinned. “You know, the boonies—in the sticks. Off the beaten path.”
“Don’t worry,” the woman said with a laugh. “There’s indoor plumbing.”
“Ah. May I use your phone?”
“To call the doc?”
I was actually considering calling Helena to tender my resignation, but I nodded.
“No need,” the woman said, looking beyond my shoulder. “I do believe Sam’s truck just pulled in. Looks like you’re covered.”
“Oh…” I conjured up a smile that belied my shaking insides. “Goody.”
9
I REMEMBERED what Sam Long looked like, of course, but I had to admit I’d forgotten the impact of his brown, brown eyes on my green, green heart. And that grin…oh…yeah.
“Hi, Kenzie.”
He was delectable looking in an army-green J Crew T-shirt (I knew Tshirts), and no-name jeans that fit him intimately. He wore low-heeled leather workboots of an indistinguishable color that were well acquainted with the outdoors, and it occurred to me that my high-heeled red boots might be in for some serious exposure to…country elements.
“Hello, Sam.”
He looked as if he were considering the proper greeting for a one-night-stand-turned-business-associate. I was thinking handshake, arm squeeze or maybe a shoulder hug, but the kiss on the corner of my mouth really took me by surprise.
By the time I registered the warmth of his breath and the familiarity of his mouth on mine, the kiss was over. A few heartbeats later I realized, to my horror, that my eyes were still closed. I pried them open and found Sam smiling as if nothing was amiss. Hap and his wife’s reaction was something more akin to mine, minus the sudden itch that assailed my neck. My man allergy appeared to be intact.
“I see you found us,” Sam said. “I was on the verge of sending out a search party.”
I was mildly pleased that he’d been worried. “You were?”
“Yeah, your boss called a half dozen times to see if you’d arrived.”
Ah, Helena had been the worried one. “I lost cell phone service, and I ran into a couple of delays,” I said, hedging, then decided to blame it all on Angel. “And you can’t imagine how difficult it is to travel with an animal.” When I remembered what he did for a living, I felt like an idiot. “Well, I guess you can imagine.” I tried to laugh, thinking if I didn’t get my act together, he’d never believe I was there to do an in-depth story on the life of a small-town vet. I cleared my throat. “How did you know I was here?”
“I thought I’d ride into town to see if anyone had seen you, and I spotted the car.” He pointed with his thumb. “Not many silver Volvos with Manhattan tags in Jar Hollow. Nice ride.”
“It’s a rental. I don’t own a car.” Which sounded as if I was reminding him of our differences right up-front, in case he’d forgotten.
He shrugged amiably. “Guess you don’t have much need for one.”
An awkward silence ensued, during which I could think of nothing except how surreal this whole situation seemed. When we’d gone back to his hotel room that night and rolled around like the sex-starved strangers we were, neither one of us had expected this continuum. From the light flush on his cheeks, I thought he might be thinking the same thing.
Then again, he could be sunburned.
My travel companion broke the silence with a complaining little yip.
“And this must be Angel,” Sam said.
The pooch perked up when she heard her name. I smirked. “Helena said you would be expecting her.”
He nodded and scratched Angel behind her ear. “I’m going to fix pretty little Angel right up,” he said with a wink. “We don’t want her playing loose with the boys and getting into trouble.”
I swallowed. “No, we don’t want that.” Mine was, of course, the voice of morality talking.
“I was hoping we’d have time to sit and eat dinner,” he said, “but I just got a call about a family dog that was hit by a car.”
“It wasn’t me,” I said quickly, wondering if the poor squirrel I’d brushed was lying in a ditch somewhere recovering.
One side of his mouth lifted. “I didn’t think it was you.”
“Urn, are the injuries serious?”
“No, fortunately. A broken leg, but I’ll take X-rays to rule out internal injuries. I told the Randalls to meet me at the clinic at home—do you mind if we get carryout?”
We…hmm. “Not at all.”
He waved at Hap’s wife. “Arma, can you get us a bucket of chicken to go?”
“Sure, doc—regular or extra crispy?”
He looked at me.
I assumed they weren’t referring to a grilling method, and my familiarity with fried chicken was limited at best. But when in Rome…“Extra crispy.”
Sam grinned, so I must have scored points. “Throw in some extra biscuits and gravy, Arma. I’m starving.”
I was starving, too, but gravy still didn’t sound appetizing. Come to think of it, I wasn’t even sure I knew what gravy was.
“It’ll be about fifteen minutes,” Arma said, scuttling toward the diner side of the establishment and giving me a thorough once-over in the process. “Grab yourselves a seat.”
Sam gestured t
oward a booth. When faced with the prospect of making small talk, I suddenly remembered my disheveled state and excused myself and Angel to the ladies’ room to freshen up. It took me two minutes to powder my nose and scrutinize my blotchy neck in the hazy mirror over the sink. For the next thirteen minutes I stared at my watch and Angel stared at me.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I said. “You’re thinking if I’m nervous about being alone with him in public for fifteen minutes, how am I going to get through this week?”
Angel tilted her head.
I moaned and leaned into the sink for support. “You’re right,” I wailed. “How am I going to get through this week?”
Seeing Sam again had hit me hard, and the scary part was that I didn’t know why. Yet. Entirely. I had a sneaky suspicion that I wasn’t ready to consider. I could admit, though, that I’d wanted to see him again, but he made me feel scared and clumsy and hungry. And the kiss had thrown me off.
I replayed the half kiss in my mind and tried to figure out what it had meant. Hello? Missed you? Did he kiss all the women he knew like that? Had he thought I expected it?
I touched my finger to my lower lip and studied my reflection. Big of eye and wide of nostril. Anxious. Confused. Allergic. And very, very out of place. I shouldn’t have come—I had a bad feeling that before I escaped Jar Hollow I was going to have to suffer through more than a long-running case of the hives.
Then my gaze was drawn to a faded Keep on Truckin’ sticker that had been affixed in who-knew-what decade in the lower left corner of the mirror. I had the eerie feeling that it had been put there for my benefit, for this very moment. I straightened. I could keep on truckin’.
As long as it didn’t require having an actual truck, of course.
Then a light bulb flashed on in my head. I was allegedly here to get an article—if things became sticky or awkward between me and Sam, I’d simply go into interview mode. Fire questions, record answers, reestablish a professional distance.
There—I was brilliant.
Because even though the article was a cover, I was determined that this would be the best darned article ever written about a small-town veterinarian. I wasn’t sure who or what was to blame for the sudden uneasiness between me and Helena—maybe she sensed my maternal attachment toward her and was trying to put professional distance between us. I had the smarts to realize that was probably a good thing, so scoring with this piece would be just the ticket to prove to Helena I was all business, and keeping an eye on Sam would show her that I was willing to go above and beyond the call of duty for the magazine. This trip, I decided, was a means to an end—the launch of my dream to write.
Jacki’s words about resisting the temptation of Sam came back to me, and I realized that my man allergy might be my saving grace this week by helping me to keep my priorities straight. Resolve puffed out my chest—if I had to sacrifice my allergic body to male pheromones for the greater good, then so be it.
Of course, the half kiss notwithstanding, Sam Long might not be interested in picking up where we’d left off. If so, this week certainly would be easier than I’d planned.
I felt wetness on my foot and experienced a rush of warmth toward Angel for licking me in my moment of need. Until I realized that she’d just taken a pee on my Miss Sixty’s.
It was a sign that nothing in my life these days had any intention of getting easier.
When I emerged from the ladies’ room, a line had formed. I gave the women apologetic looks and tried not to stare at their clothes even though they were staring at mine. And Angel’s. Bulky ski sweaters, jeans and tennis shoes seemed to be the norm. I reasoned that the shopping choices in Jar Hollow were probably limited, and consoled myself that I didn’t look too out of place.
“Who’s the Barbie?” someone whispered loudly.
“Is she carrying a dog?” another woman said.
“Must be Big City Barbie,” another added in a scathing voice.
My cheeks were burning when I approached Sam, who stood by the booth with one arm full of chicken and the other arm full of…chick.
The dark-skinned, lush-figured brunette reminded me of April Bromley, and from the proprietary way this woman touched Sam’s arm, I had a feeling that I was looking at Sam’s “type.” Not to mention his girlfriend.
Sam did start guiltily when he saw me approach. I slowed my step, lest I overhear something personal. My heart was beating harshly even while I told myself that knowing he was attached only made things simpler. Act natural, I told myself. Just as if I hadn’t been up close and personal with this woman’s personal handhold.
“Kenzie Mansfield,” Sam said, gesturing toward the gorgeous young woman. “Meet Val Jessum.”
I conjured up my best don’t-worry-he’s-all-yours smile. “Pleased to meet you, Val. Will you be joining Dr. Long and me for dinner?”
I’d caught her off guard. Eyes that had been ready to sling arrows went wide and her gaze flew to Sam’s. “Oh, well…I don’t think so, not this time.”
“Sometime before I leave then,” I said easily.
“Sure,” she murmured.
“Sorry to be in a rush,” Sam said, “but I need to get to the clinic.”
“See you later,” Val said, looking back and forth between us.
I pushed open the door, partly because I was used to doing it for myself, and partly because I didn’t want Sam looking too chivalrous around me with his girlfriend looking on.
“Sorry about that,” Sam said, when we got outside.
“About what?” I asked, wide-eyed.
He hesitated a split second, then scratched his temple. “Never mind. Follow me—if we’re separated by traffic, I’ll pull onto the shoulder and wait.”
Traffic? It was time for me to scratch my head. “Okay.”
He climbed into a white double-cab pickup truck— April would be drooling—and I situated Angel in the passenger seat of the Volvo.
I’d be lying to myself if I said the appearance of a girlfriend hadn’t shaken me. Did they have a commitment? And had he broken it by sleeping with me? I didn’t want to think so, but it was none of my business. In truth, it seemed downright unrealistic to think that Sam didn’t have a permanent woman in his life.
And I kept coming back to the question of why it should bother me—I had no claim on the man.
My mind was swirling as I opened the driver’s-side door. The quarter I’d tossed poked out beneath the seat. Tails—we should have gone back. I curled my fingers around the coin and sighed. Too late now. I glanced to the left and Sam’s grin through the open window made my heart jerk sideways.
Too late for a lot of things.
10
THE DRIVE to Sam’s place took so long, I started to think maybe I should have brought the bucket of chicken with me—for a snack along the way. We didn’t cover much ground, but the terrain was so rugged—and vertical—we were forced to travel at a snail’s pace. Darkness was starting to fall, and the trees lining what passed for a road blocked out what little daylight was left. I was really getting creeped out, probably because I’d seen too many horror movies set in the woods.
Just before my ears started popping from the altitude, the ground leveled out, and the trees gave way to a clearing where two buildings sat about fifty yards apart. I stared at the larger building, and my heart fell to my stomach. “He lives in a log cabin?”
I looked down at Angel, who tilted her head.
“He lives in a log cabin,” I repeated. I supposed the heavy feeling in my gut came from the realization that the sight before me clinched the differences between us—pint-sized apartment versus hand-hewn homestead. We might as well have lived on separate planets.
Sam parked his whopper truck between the two log buildings in a worn grassy area lit by a big globe on a telephone pole. I pulled my car into a spot next to him and climbed out gingerly.
“What do you think?” Sam asked, throwing his arm in the air toward…everything.
�
��It’s really…something,” I declared, circling in place. No matter what direction I turned, the scene was the same—trees. Tall and thick and unending, pressing upon us, hissing as the wind pushed them around. I longed for the comforting crush of skyscrapers and lights and street noise. Here the only sound was…whining.
I glanced toward the car and saw Angel standing with her nose pressed against the window. I jogged around to the passenger side and opened the door to let her out. But when I set her on the ground, she did a funny little dance, lifting her feet like a high-stepping show horse. She sniffed the packed ground suspiciously. It dawned on me that Angel had never before walked on dirt, and before I could snicker, I realized that the only time I had trod upon anything other than asphalt and grass was the time I’d happened upon water-line construction in Central Park.
I glanced at Sam and decided to keep the fact that I was a dirt virgin from the Eagle Scout. “Is that your clinic?” I asked, gesturing toward the smaller log building.
He nodded. “Want to see it? The Randalls are about ten minutes behind us, and I need to prep an exam room.”
“That’s why I’m here,” I said cheerfully. “Let me grab my notebook and camera.”
“You can call your boss from the phone in my office to let her know you arrived safely.”
I did just that. Sam left me in his office, then disappeared down the hall, flipping on lights to the tune of much screeching and cage-rattling in other rooms. The hair raised on my arms just wondering what kinds of creatures he housed here. Angel, the more curious of the two of us, followed him and I let her, experiencing a surge of relief that someone else was looking after her for a few minutes. I turned and stared at the unbelievable chaos he called a work space, then stepped around stacks of books, files and paper to catch the trail of a phone line and follow it to a base unit sitting under a pile of mail. I recalled Sam’s comment about his disorganization and vowed to remember his penchant for understatement.
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