by Tina Leonard
Luke ignored that, and went to pack his things. Boiling anger rolled through him. Of all the stinking tricks his old man had to pull, sending goons after him was the worst. He would have gone home eventually…one day.
No, I wouldn’t. I never want to see Tulips again, or anyone who lives there.
“Just peachy,” he muttered to himself, hopping out of the boat with his few belongings and giving his new “friends” a rude gesture. They laughed, and Luke privately cursed the general for so easily giving him up.
This was not his definition of being lucky.
ONCE PEPPER HAD introduced her children to the Triple F and let them settle in for a few days, she quietly—over Duke’s and Zach’s protests—moved them into the small home she’d bought. Pepper wanted to make the move together, she and the boys sleeping under one roof for the first time in Tulips as a family, so they would know that she’d bought the house for them. The house was made of red brick with white shutters, of a typical ranch style, and close to the clinic. She loved it, and so far, it seemed Toby and Josh did, too. There were bedrooms for all of them—even one for Aunt Jerry, once she came to stay—room to spread out and a huge backyard.
Either Duke or Zach stopped by every day, picking up the boys to run errands with them. They had a thousand excuses for spending time with their nephews. This gave Pepper time to clean the clinic and establish her practice, but most importantly, it gave her time to think about what she’d told the boys over the years about their father.
She’d been as honest about Luke as possible, deciding that the truth always came back to haunt a person. Carefully, she told the boys—when they asked—that their father hadn’t been ready for marriage, nor had she. She also admitted that she hadn’t told Luke about them. One day, when the time was right, she promised, they would find him and tell him.
Toby and Josh had been all right with that, somehow understanding that she was genuinely trying to act in their best interests to the utmost of her ability. As a doctor, she’d presented the facts gently; as a mother, she’d waited anxiously for tears, recriminations, bitterness.
The boys had simply taken the information into their hearts, knowing that one day they would meet their father.
Pepper glanced around the clinic. It was freshly painted and all her diplomas and certifications had been hung. She was proud of what she had accomplished. If she could make a go of this, she hoped to bring on a pediatric specialist in the future and maybe enlarge the clinic. Tulips deserved a good medical complex. That, as much as good schools, would bring people to their town, she figured. Moreover, she wanted to be able to take care of folks who had given her so much over the years.
Maybe she’d even have a door made for her clinic just like the beautiful one that welcomed visitors to the Tulips Saloon. People liked calming, pretty things when they visited a doctor, and a matching door would be symbolic. There were a lot of connected hearts in this town, and Pepper intended to honor them.
She locked the door and headed over to Holt’s salon.
“Hey,” he said, looking up from a magazine. “You’re right on time.”
“This time,” she said, sliding into the chair. “I love the clinic. The boys love the house. Thank you for helping me find them.”
Holt grinned, running a hand through Pepper’s tangled, auburn mop. “Let’s find something gorgeous here, okay? How long has it been since you’ve had a complete style?”
Pepper looked at herself in the mirror, smiling at the mess Holt was examining with somewhat concealed disdain. “Long enough. I’ve been busy.”
“Yes. Now that you’re back in town, you can slow down a bit. Your hair is telling on you.” He began combing out her locks, and Pepper sighed with pleasure. “If our hair is our nod to the day, I hear you may be needing a real brave new look.”
She looked at him in the mirror. “Are we going to share our little gossip?”
He smiled. “Perhaps. There was a council meeting the other night after you introduced your boys.”
“Oh? I’m not surprised.”
“All I’m saying is be on the lookout.” Holt flashed his scissors. “I can’t say more than that, but I do feel that a friendly heads-up is in order.”
“Could you clarify?”
He sighed. “Not really. You’re a Tulipian. You know how it works around here. Still, you’ve been gone long enough that you might have forgotten, so I’m just reminding you.”
“Should I be worried? Is it about the boys?”
“No.” Holt gave her a reassuring grin. “Not in the sense you’re thinking. Everyone here is glad you brought them home. But you know that, around here, love is equated with trying to be helpful.”
“Well, as long as it’s well-meaning….” She wondered what to make of Holt’s secretive expression.
“It always is, my dear.” He smiled. “It always is.”
She wasn’t sure that made her feel a whole lot better.
ON A CLEAR SUNDAY EVENING, at an hour when most people should be snuggled up in their beds or in front of their televisions, Luke McGarrett returned to Tulips. He was looking for zero fanfare and no welcoming committee.
Of course, he wouldn’t get one, anyway.
The taxi driver sped away, glad to get back to Dallas. Luke watched as the last vestige of up-to-date civilization left him. Feeling very much the pawn, he glanced around, deciding not much had changed. He hadn’t expected it to.
The Tulips Saloon was new. It had a pretty door, with lots of stained glass flowers worked into it. Quite inviting for a man who had come a long way and who’d dreaded every step. There was an Open sign in the window, and Luke felt as if he could use some fortification before he went to see his father, so he swung the door wide.
Four gray heads turned to stare at him, and one by one, their jaws dropped.
Not exactly an enthusiastic greeting, Luke thought. “Hi,” he said, “I’m Luke McGarrett.”
“We know who you are.” Helen Granger—he remembered her giving him a talking-to in church when he was a boy—stood to greet him. Pansy Trifle—he remembered her telling on him to his dad about how he didn’t eat his lunch in the cafeteria, preferring to play outside with the boys instead—stood, as well. “You got home quick.”
He nodded. “Howdy, Mr. Parsons. Mr. Carmine.”
Hiram and Bug stood in turn. They shook his hand solemnly.
“A couple of fellows happened to swing by the yacht I was on to let me know I was needed here.” Luke recalled how the grapevine worked in this small town. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
They shook their heads. Luke sighed to himself, realizing that starting out on the defensive was going to make him no friends. Whatever was brewing in Tulips would be revealed to him eventually. “So, I guess some coffee might be on the menu? I could use some before I go home.”
Pansy went to get him a mug. Helen, Bug and Hiram just stared at him, making him more apprehensive. “It’s only me,” he said. “I probably haven’t changed all that much.”
They looked down at their own coffee mugs. Luke was struck by their closemouthed behavior. When Hiram had owned the pawn shop, he’d been active in the community, and one wouldn’t have called him quiet. Bug…well, Bug was Bug, and he could be given to long bouts of quiet—he liked to take off to think, and drink, solo—until Mrs. Carmine had him brought home from the fields.
“Long time no see,” Pansy finally said bravely, and then he understood that maybe their feelings were a little hurt.
“I guess so,” he said with a nod. “I deserve you pointing that out.”
“Maybe a Christmas card or two wouldn’t have killed you,” Helen complained. “Your dad didn’t often seem to know much about you.”
“Enough for someone to figure out how to find me,” he said. “Who sent the goons after me?”
“We had nothing to do with that,” Pansy said. “We don’t send goons, anyway.”
But they all looked
away, and Luke knew he wasn’t getting the straightest answer. “So, do any of you want to tell me what’s on your minds?”
“No,” Hiram said, “we just sit at this table most of our days and drink tea. Sometimes we go to Pansy’s house and sit and sometimes we sit at Helen’s. But our lives are pretty much about tea and cookies these days.”
Somehow, Luke doubted that. “Thanks for the coffee, then.” He stood. “It was good to see you again. I’d best go see Dad.”
They stared at him.
“I suppose you’d tell me if he wasn’t all right,” Luke said slowly, beginning to worry.
“He’s fine,” Bug said. “Mostly lonely, which, I’ll be the first to admit, he tends to bring upon himself. Still, he misses you.”
“All right.” Luke tipped his hat. “I’ll head that way.”
They watched him leave, and at the door, he turned to look back, again catching them staring at him.
They definitely had something on their minds they weren’t sharing with him. He sighed. “How about a hint?”
“No,” Helen said, “we daren’t.”
“All right, then.” He appreciated the honesty. “I’ll find out on my own.”
He left, and started heading to his father’s.
“Oh,” Helen said, sticking her head out the door. “Would you mind dropping this batch of cookies off at the new clinic? It’s a grand-opening gift, you might say.”
“New clinic?”
“Yes. Off Cotton Blossom street, four blocks away. You remember. Short walk.”
He looked down into her eyes, searching for clues, but she gave nothing away except the cookies, which she pressed into his hand. “Thank you,” Helen said primly.
“No problem.”
In fact, it gave him a reason not to hurry home. One more delay before seeing his father wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
PEPPER LOOKED AROUND her clinic, feeling proud of it, proud of her new home and of her boys. Holt had made her hair pretty and she had a new dress Liberty had sewed for her. Tomorrow was the big day. The grand opening. The day she started giving back to Tulips.
“I’m so excited,” she said to herself, glad that she had one last moment to herself to enjoy her brand-new surroundings. The boys were off with her brothers, but they’d be here tomorrow to help her celebrate.
They had so much to celebrate together.
The door swung open, and Pepper turned with a welcoming smile. But the face in the doorway was the last one she’d expected to see.
Chapter Four
Luke McGarrett looked at her, and Pepper stared at him, her heart leaping like a deer. As her worst fear materialized, her veins ran cold. “Hi,” she said, not ready at all for this moment.
He looked around, just as handsome and sexy as he’d ever been. “Hi. Pepper Forrester, right?”
She took a deep breath. “Yes. Luke McGarrett, of course.”
He nodded. “Here’s some cookies the ladies sent over for some grand opening. Is this your place?”
“Yes.”
“You’re a doctor?”
He said it as if he was implying You turned out to be more than just a bookworm?
She put the cookies on a shelf as an excuse to break eye contact. “Yes. And you?”
“I’m just…drifting,” he said slowly. “I don’t think I realized that until just now.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Well, congratulations.” He looked around him again. “I’ll think of something cool and witty I could have said after I’m gone.”
“Why?” Pepper asked, wondering why he’d bother.
“I don’t know.” Luke sounded surprised. “I don’t remember you being so pretty. I mean, you were always the smartest student in our class, but…you’ve really changed.”
She thought about laughing, then about slapping him, then decided it didn’t matter worth a damn. Obviously, she was one virgin he hadn’t thought much of after the heat of the moment. “Goodbye, Luke.”
“Yeah. Bye,” he said.
He stared at her so long that he made her even more uncomfortable, and awkward enough to realize she still found him the most tantalizing male she’d ever come across. Blasted female hormones.
It hit her that she’d made children with this man. Shock flared inside her. The boys had been just hers for so long she’d forgotten that one day… She looked at Luke again, considering. One day she was going to have to tell this hunk, this person with whom she had nothing in common, this gorgeously unreliable specimen who claimed he was just a drifter…that he was a father and that they, together, were parents.
“Let’s do lunch sometime, okay?” Luke said, and Pepper shook her head.
“I don’t think so.”
He hesitated. “Dinner? Coffee? For old times’ sake?”
She walked behind the protective barrier of an island countertop. “There are no old times’ sakes for us.” Please don’t let him remember us rolling around groping each other as lusty teenagers. I want to be a bookwormish memory to him.
“There’s something about you I can’t quite remember—”
“There’s nothing,” she told him. “Nothing at all.” Pointedly, she looked at her watch. “I’m sorry. I must get home.”
“Family?”
She put on a coat. “Yes.”
He reached to help her, brushing her cheek in the process. Tingles ran through Pepper, making her grit her teeth. “Please,” she said, turning to face him. “I like to do everything myself.”
His grin was, slow and sexy. “I know what I was trying to remember about you.”
She held her breath.
“Some of our classmates secretly voted you Most Likely to Be Town Spinster. I guess they were wrong.”
She glared at him. “As long as you’re proud of being the town drifter, I’ll be proud of not being the town spinster.” She steered him out the door, shut it and locked it. When he turned and stared through the window at her, clearly surprised to be shoved into the cold, Pepper put a Closed sign up, then went out the back way.
She had a lot to think about.
LUKE WENT AROUND to the back of the clinic and watched Pepper get into her car. She was prettier now than in high school, though she’d been cute then in a studious sort of way. Her features had a warm glow of maturity now, giving her an appealing femininity that was new and refreshing to his jaded eyes.
He’d been lying, of course. He well remembered the last time he’d seen Pepper Forrester. His body remembered how she’d wrapped herself around him with innocent sighs of pleasure. A man didn’t forget that much passion, no matter how distant the memory might be.
He also knew she’d been lying, pretending she didn’t remember what they’d been to each other. A woman who gave her virginity to a man never let go of the knowledge that it had happened, for better or for worse. He hoped her memories of that afternoon—and of him—were kind ones, and his guilty conscience and ego wondered if perhaps the reason she dismissed him now was because the memory wasn’t a sterling one she’d recorded with happiness.
He hoped that wasn’t the case. He’d always prided himself on making women happy.
She got into her car, a serviceable minivan, which surprised him. It was almost a matronly vehicle, far too maternal for such a sexy woman. He would have imagined her, with that hair and her peaches-and-cream complexion, in some sort of fancy roadster. She was, after all, from the wealthiest family in Tulips. A little spoiled behavior from the only female of the Forrester clan wouldn’t have surprised him; the age and make of her vehicle did. The general’s daughters wouldn’t be caught dead driving or even riding in such a vehicle, unless it was an emergency and they had Gucci sunglasses to hide behind. He chuckled to himself. Pepper was a refreshing surprise to him.
Yet he couldn’t afford to linger over pleasant memories of his boyhood. His father—the reason he’d been called home—waited for him, no doubt wit
h dragon’s breath ready to sear him. There was no putting it off any longer, so after Pepper had ridden away in her mommy-mobile, Luke turned to go.
Suddenly, a thought made him spin back around. A mommy-mobile was for a woman who had children, of course. She was married, and he hadn’t even bothered to scan her finger for a ring. Not that it mattered, he decided. He wasn’t the marrying kind himself.
Her van pulled up beside him as he prepared to walk back to the Tulips Saloon and try to hitch a ride off the old fogeys.
“I’m going to regret asking this,” Pepper said, “but where’s your car?”
“Not here. I had a taxi drop me off in town. I was stalling, to be honest,” he said.
She looked regretful. “So you need a ride.”
“If you’re offering.” He raised his brows and waited, hopeful she’d say yes.
She sighed. “This is so not a good idea.”
He grinned and climbed in. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” He chuckled when she rolled her eyes. “We can catch up on what has happened in the past many years of our lives.”
“No, thanks.”
Stiffly keeping her walls up, he noted. That was okay with him. He liked a woman who didn’t throw herself at a man. “You could at least ask something about me.”
“And feign interest in the answer?” She shook her head. “I’m giving a drifter a lift, nothing more.”
Okay, she was starting to hurt his feelings. “I don’t think I’ve ever met such a resistant female.”
“I hardly know what to say to that. The obvious reply, too obvious, is that you haven’t met many bright females. But I prefer to take the high road and tell you that I’m not resistant, I’m merely busy.”
“And have a lot on your mind.”
“Exactly.”
God, he wanted to touch her. She’d jump right out of her straight-laced skin if he did. Luke looked out the window, his ego flattened and his enthusiasm for baiting her declining. “I guess I’ll relieve you of my horse’s-ass attempts at socializing for the moment, then.” He leaned back, closing his eyes for a second. Truthfully, it was kind of nice to be around a woman who didn’t want a thing from him.