Big-Bucks Bachelor

by Leah Vale

  “I’ll be right back,” he assured her.

  She waved him off and sat down, her attention on the paperwork stacked in once neat piles on his desk.

  Jack blew out a breath and turned to leave the office. As he walked out he grabbed his seldom-used white lab coat off the rack next to the door and pulled it on. As armor went, it was a sorry thing, but as of late his professionalism was the only defense he had against women like Mary Kay. The situation wasn’t helped by the fact that after one of the entertainment news crews that now routinely haunted Jester had followed him out on a call and caught on tape his attempts to calm a bucking horse, he’d been dubbed The Big-Bucks Bachelor by the press. As if he didn’t have reason enough to get out of town.

  He made a point to leave the office door open as well as the door to the exam room after he went in. He didn’t want to give any sort of impression to anyone.

  Mary Kay obviously felt the opposite. Rather than placing Pumpkin on the exam table, she’d set him on the ground and had hitched one of her hips on the table. She’d managed to strike a pose with the subtlety of an alpha female, with her jacket off her shoulders—he’d been right about the tank top, only it was white, and very thin. She’d catch pneumonia for sure this winter.

  She eyed the open door, then surprised him by calling out, “Oh, Melinda, I almost forgot. I noticed on my way in that your truck is parked right under a huge icicle hanging off the clinic’s sign. While that truck of yours is already kind of beat-up, you might want to move it before that icicle drops and you end up with a great big dent in your hood.”

  The sound of Melinda’s chair scraping on the vinyl floor reached them, and Jack turned in time to see her leave the office. With her coat dragging behind her and muttering in a very un-Melinda way under her breath, she stomped her way to the front door.

  After Melinda left, Jack turned back to Mary Kay. Her smile would have made any feline proud.

  “Everyone knows how much she loves that crummy old truck,” she said by way of explanation.

  It was true. Melinda made no secret about her pride in her truck, willing to take the ribbing doled out to anyone who actually washed a work vehicle on a regular basis in the dead of winter. As a born and bred Montanan, she should know better. Although she’d once mentioned that the truck had been the only thing her father had ever given her. He’d thought there’d been a shadow of pain darkening her brown eyes after she’d said it. She’d had the chance to elaborate, but she hadn’t. And he hadn’t asked. It wasn’t his place to pry.

  Flashing a saucy grin, Mary Kay returned her attention to Jack.

  He pointedly shifted his attention to Pumpkin, who looked annoyed over having to actually touch the ground. “Okay, big fella, lets have a listen to those lungs.” He started to squat down in front of the cat, but Mary Kay grabbed hold of the lapels of his lab coat and hauled him against her.

  Surprised and off balance, Jack had no choice but to flatten his hands on the polished metal table and lock his elbows to keep from toppling onto her. The strength of her mercantile-bought perfume made his eyes water.

  Apparently oblivious to his distress, in a surprisingly accurate Marilyn Monroe-like breathlessness, Mary Kay said, “Let’s stop beating around the bush, Jack, and just do what animals like us are supposed to do.”

  His gaze went instinctively to the other door out of the exam room, the one that they brought contagious or severely injured small animals through. But she had too good of a hold on him. “Mary Kay, please,” Jack demanded. He tried to straighten away from her, but she turned out to be remarkably strong.

  “No, I’m the one willing to beg. I’m willing to do anything to be the one tamed by your great, big, strong hands,” she purred and once again tried to pull him down with her onto the table.

  No way was he going to let that happen. But his worn-thin professionalism kept him from physically removing her from his person.

  “Don’t fight it, Jack. We’d be so good together. Can’t you see that? Haven’t you felt it building over the years, darling?”

  Positive he hadn’t exchanged more than the usual pleasantries and professional advice regarding Pumpkin, he adamantly shook his head. “Really, Mary Kay—”

  “Shh.” She cut off what was going to be a fervent denial by placing the pads of her pink-polished fingertips of one hand over his mouth. “No. You’re right. This isn’t the time for words, it’s time for action. Let me show you just how lucky you really are, Jack.”

  He tried to take a step back, but Pumpkin, undoubtedly looking for revenge against the usurper who’d taken his place on his mistress’s lap, had circled Jack’s legs and wound the leash that Mary Kay still had looped over her wrist around him. It was all Jack could do to keep from falling backward on his butt or forward onto Mary Kay.

  If it came to it, he’d pick hitting vinyl in a heartbeat. He would have never dreamed Mary Kay would become so aggressive in her bid to land a millionaire. Though he shouldn’t be surprised. Even the mayor’s assistant, Paula Pratt, had suddenly shown up with a pet so she’d have an excuse to come to the clinic. The mayor, after all, hadn’t been one of the group he’d dubbed The Main Street Millionaires.

  Mary Kay tugged again, her bright blue eyes glinting with determination. “Give me one good reason why not, Jack. Just one,” she huskily challenged, leaning yet closer in a clear invitation for a kiss.

  Ten compelling reasons instantly came to mind, but none of them were particularly flattering to Mary Kay. While her pursuit of him, obviously fueled by his newfound wealth, was extremely annoying, it didn’t earn her his cruelty. But thanks to the effort involved in trying to keep his balance and avoid her puckered lips lined in a shade a heck of a lot darker than her coral lipstick, his brain had a hard time coming up with a nice reason.

  The first and foremost truth popped from his mouth. “Because I’m already involved with someone.” He always would be.

  Mary Kay froze, then frowned. His state of perpetual mourning had never been a secret in Jester, and was the main reason he’d been left alone by the women in town. But over a million in the bank apparently overrode their pity.

  The skepticism plain on her meticulously made-up face, she pulled back and challenged, “Who?”

  Now he’d stepped in it.

  Figuring the rest of that particular truth wouldn’t buy him a respite but instead earn him the standard lecture on the benefits of moving on, he mentally scrambled for a name. He couldn’t just make a girlfriend up, even one who might live out of town. He was far too visible around Jester, and didn’t leave often enough to get a story like that to fly. Besides, in a town of 1,500 people, everyone generally knew everyone else’s business.

  Just when Mary Kay’s frown was turning to exasperation, the clinic’s door opened and Melinda returned with a blast of cold air that matched her icy expression. With a glancing glare in their direction that let him know Mary Kay had sent Melinda on an unnecessary trip outside, Melinda stomped back into their office.

  It dawned on Jack that the only woman he spent any amount of time with alone was his currently grumpy partner. He could easily be having a relationship with her that no one would know about.

  Without further thought he announced, “Mel. I mean, Melinda. I’m currently involved with Melinda.” And just in case Mary Kay expected him to be willing to cheat, he threw in, “Seriously involved.” He took advantage of Mary Kay’s shock and extracted himself from her grip.

  Looking down, he stepped out of the tangle Pumpkin had made of the leash. He started in on the explanation he was certain she would demand. “Since we work together, we’d prefer to keep it quiet, you understand—” He looked back at Mary Kay, and her expression stopped him.

  She was softly saying, “Ah,” and nodding her head as if he’d just pointed out something obvious, like the fact chicken coops stink.

  She slipped off the examination table. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place, Jack? Sheesh,” she muttered as she b
ent to pick up her rotund cat. “I could have spent all this time hanging at The Heartbreaker Saloon, working on Dev,” she groused on her way out of the room.

  Jack’s brows went up. That had been easy. A little too easy. His luck couldn’t be that good. “So you don’t want me to take a look at Pumpkin?” he offered while following her into the small waiting area.

  “Naa, that’s okay.” She waved him off as she continued toward the front door. “Pumpkee’s tougher than he looks.”

  Considering that Pumpkee looked like the feline equivalent of a Sumo wrestler, that was saying something.

  “Well, if you’re sure…” he trailed off, hoping his pleasure over his excuse working wasn’t too obvious.

  “I’m sure. Catch you later, Jack.”

  “’Bye, Mary Kay, Pumpkin.”

  Jack closed the door behind her and whistled low through his teeth. That had been a close one. While lying wasn’t his thing, no matter how white the lie, in this instance it had certainly been the lesser of two evils. He doubted he could have convinced Mary Kay that the only woman he would ever want in any way was already gone from his life.

  That fate had already decided he would spend his life alone.

  Besides, he was leaving Jester.

  He turned toward the office, intent on making sure Melinda was on board with his plan, but she was already heading out into the waiting area, her coat on and her vaccination kit in hand.

  “Where are you going? I want to finish our discussion.”

  She stepped around him and made for the door. “Sorry, Jack. But I’m due out at Wyla Thorne’s place in fifteen minutes. At least she doesn’t mind having a woman vaccinate her pigs.”

  He pulled in a deep breath and followed her. “We’ll get everything straightened out, Mel. I promise.”

  The look she gave him as he held the door open for her said, yeah, right.

  But he meant it.

  He had no choice.

  JACK HAD ALL of an hour of peace, having finally forced himself to focus on the paperwork that needed to be done, before the blinds on the door rattled again. He braced himself, wondering which supposedly love-struck lady with a mysteriously ill pet would appear next.

  He sent up a silent prayer that it wouldn’t be the mayor’s curvaceous, blond assistant, Paula Pratt. Her newly acquired, tiny beige Chihuahua, Angel—the dog’s original owners had called him Killer—was only happy snuggled up inside the front of the woman’s coat, and whenever she drew close to someone, the dog growled. It sounded eerily like her abundant breasts were snarling. And whatever it was that little dog had wrong with him, only a truly gifted animal psychologist could cure.

  Jack’s prayer was answered when much older and rounder Stella Montgomery came through the door, her platinum-blond curls protected from the weather by a clear plastic rain hat and her peacock blue, heavy winter coat brushing the tops of her sheepskin-lined boots. She caught sight of him in the office and her seemingly permanent smile widened.

  He automatically smiled in return. Stella was a real sweetheart. She lived over at Gwen Tanner’s boardinghouse, and was forever seeing to everyone’s happiness and the health of their love life, where warranted. But she never went there with him.

  Not minding the interruption since it was Stella, he pushed his chair back and stood. “Well, hello, Stella.” He came around his desk and went to greet her. “How are you today?”

  “Oh, I’m marvelous, Jack. Just marvelous.” Her pleasantly plump cheeks held more of a rosy glow than usual. And her blue eyes positively twinkled.

  “Good. Good.”

  She smiled at him.

  Puzzled, Jack waited, but she didn’t explain her presence. To his knowledge, Stella didn’t own any pets.

  She simply smiled at him some more.

  Rocking back on his heels and burying his hands in the pockets of his lab coat that he’d forgotten to take off, he asked, “So, what can I do for you? Do you need help moving something…?”

  “Oh, no. Nothing, really. I just thought I’d stop by and say hello. I noticed Dr. Wood’s truck isn’t out front. Is she on a call?” She reached up and patted at very curly hair through its protective barrier in a very feminine way.

  A sizzling arc of panic went to ground right through the bottoms of his feet. No. Not Stella. She had to be in her mid- to late-fifties.

  But she was also single.

  Then the reminder of why she was still single cooled him in a rush of relief. She had loved and lost also, though she and her young man hadn’t had the chance to marry, their engagement ending tragically with his death. Stella, along with ol’ Henry Faulkner who had lost his wife ten years ago, understood why Jack didn’t feel the necessity to move on.

  Still, her obvious delight made him nervous. “Yes. Melinda is out at Wyla’s, I believe. Vaccination time. Can I get you some coffee, tea…” He was pretty sure Melinda had heated some water before she left the first time this morning and had a decent selection of instant coffee and tea bags to warm them up after being out treating livestock in the freezing weather.

  “You are a dear, but no, thank you.” She found an escaped blond curl and tucked it back undercover. “Oh, you know, Irene and I thought we’d do some baking. What sort of cake do you like best, Jack?”

  “Cake?”

  She smiled even more sweetly and nodded encouragingly.

  He shrugged. “Chocolate, I guess.”

  “Chocolate. Wonderful. With raspberry filling?”

  He shrugged again, wondering what his opinion had to do with anything. “That’s always good.”

  “Wonderful, wonderful.” Her pleasure was amazing. “Well, I better let you get back to work. Have a wonderful day, Jack.” She wiggled her fingers at him and was back out the door before he had a chance to respond.

  Wonderfully bemused, he stared at the door for a moment, then went back to his desk. That was odd. Especially considering the fact it was Gwen who usually did the baking. She made the most incredible pastries. He made a mental note to stick his nose in at the bookstore across the street, Ex-Libris, where Amanda Bradley let Gwen sell her baked goodies, and snag a muffin or two before he headed home. Perhaps Stella and Irene Caldwell, who also lived at Gwen’s boardinghouse, were helping out in the kitchen. That was very likely, since Irene treated Gwen more like a granddaughter than a landlord. He shrugged and went back to work.

  Not fifteen minutes passed before Irene blew into the clinic’s waiting room, a cheery yellow scarf tied over her gray hair and a puffy, quilted black coat bundled around her. In her early sixties, Irene had really found a place to belong when she moved into the boardinghouse six years ago. Her husband had passed away four years before that, and without any children of her own, she’d been too alone.

  She spied Jack and headed for him before he had time to get up. “Jack, dear! I’m so glad you’re in. I have a quick question for you, if I may?”

  He set his pen down. Clearly, this was going to be one of those days. “Of course, Irene. What can I do for you?”

  “Not a thing. It’s only that Stella and I are making a tape of everyone’s favorite slow songs for, ah, for the Founder’s Day celebration dance, and we were wondering what your favorite is? To dance to? Ah, slow?”

  “I thought you and Stella were baking today.”

  “Are we?”

  He raised his brows. Doddering was one thing these older ladies were not.

  “Oh, yes.” She put a hand to her cheek and laughed. “Of course we are. But we’re also making a tape. Of music. To dance slow to.”

  Jack immediately thought of the song he and Caroline had danced to for the first dance at their wedding. On the sly she’d arranged for the band to start out with a traditional love song, then switch to playing a punk rock song about a white wedding. She’d laughed so hard at the look on his face. If only they could have stayed in that moment. Happy. Safe.

  His thoughts must have shown in his expression, because the smile lighting Irene’s so
ftly lined face faltered. Not wanting to distress her, he threw out the first song that came to mind.

  She smiled in obvious relief. “Ooh, that’s a good one, Jack. Thank you, dear.” She turned on her sensible heel and hurried out.

  The door had barely shut behind her before it opened again. Only this time it wasn’t to what he considered a friendly face. Marina Andrews, the blond TV news reporter from a station in Great Falls, along with her cameraman, who’d made Jester their home away from home since the lottery win, came into the waiting room. He could understand their attention right after the win. What had happened had been newsworthy. To a point. And certainly for a limited amount of time. In Jack’s mind, that time was up. Their continued attempts to dig up a story where there wasn’t one anymore was wearing on him.

  And that big-bucks bachelor routine definitely hadn’t earned them any points.

  “Dr. Hartman, might we—”

  The phone rang.

  Saved by the bell. Jack held up a stilling hand and picked up the receiver with the other. “Jester Veterinary Clinic. Dr. Hartman speaking.” He put on the airs for the sake of his audience.

  “Jack, it’s Ruby Cade.”

  “Hey, Ru—”

  “I need you, Jack. Right now.”

  For the first time in nearly two months those words coming from a woman didn’t illicit dread from him. Not only was Ruby married, she was a fellow lottery winner. Though Jack couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen Ruby’s husband Sam around town. Since Sam was a military man of some sort, his absence shouldn’t be cause for note. But Ruby owned The Mercantile just down Main Street from the clinic with Honor Lassiter and lived in the apartment above the store.

  And she didn’t have a pet.

  He cleared his throat. “Ah, what can I do for—”

  She cut him off. “It’s that damn goat, Jack. The one that’s been hanging around town.” Her upset was clear in the quaver of her voice. “It must have wandered into my back storeroom when we were unloading a delivery earlier. Now it’s got its head stuck inside a damn bucket and is crashing all over the place. It kicks when we try to get a hold of it. Please, can you come right over and help us before it destroys my stock?”