by Ann Collins
She winced at her friend’s eagerness to be involved in a wedding that was nothing more than a business arrangement—not that the Dolans were aware of that fact. Ashamed of what her father’s will was forcing her to do, and half afraid the Dolans would try to talk her out of her plan, she had not confided the truth to them. They knew nothing about the rapidly approaching deadline imposed on her, only that she was marrying a man she had known as a girl back in Philadelphia and that his business affairs there precluded his arriving any earlier. Keeping her secret from the Dolans had placed a heavy weight on her heart, but it couldn’t be helped, not if she wanted to secure the hotel’s future.
“Mrs. Dolan,” Alex said, rubbing his now-floured hands on his pants, “as much as I enjoy receiving compliments from attractive women such as yourself, you have me confused with someone else. My name isn’t Williamson. It’s MacLean, and I’ve only just met Miss Fairbanks.”
Mary blushed as colorfully as her apron. “Oh, dear me. I just assumed. You see—”
“Mary,” she broke in, “Mr. MacLean is a guest. Phillip has not arrived yet, though I expect him very soon. I brought Mr. MacLean here because he is in need of the doctor’s services.”
“Oh, my goodness. Please come in. I do go on sometimes.” She rubbed her hands self-consciously on her apron and stepped back. “I hope it’s nothing serious.”
“Only a few bruises,” he said, motioning Julia to precede him into the cottage. “They’ll keep.” As Mary closed the door, he added, “Miss Fairbanks, my congratulations on your upcoming nuptials. When is the happy event to take place?”
Happy event? Ha!
“Tomorrow evening,” Mary answered for her, eyes sparkling. “A privileged few of the hotel staff have been taken into Julia’s confidence, and they are as eager as I to set eyes on her beau. If I had my way, she would invite everyone to the ceremony and arrange a huge reception in the Grand Ballroom, but she insists on a small and quiet affair.”
“Mary, Phillip and I agreed to keep the occasion private.” For more reasons than Mary Dolan could ever guess.
Mary pushed out her bottom lip. “But it just doesn’t seem right. You’re the owner of the Hotel Grand Victoria now. When your father married your stepmother—God rest her soul—he put on the biggest party Coronado had ever seen.”
“Yes, he did.” Julia wished she could forget. Just thinking about it made her blood boil. He had married less than a year after her mother’s death. The party cost a small fortune and celebrated nothing but his latest attempt to father a son—his latest failed attempt. Harriet Lincoln Fairbanks had tried her best, but she conceived only once and miscarried halfway through her pregnancy. Her devastation had brought back Julia’s memories of her mother pining for the babies she lost, as well as Julia’s own devastation when she found her two-month-old sister cold and lifeless in her cradle.
“Mary,” she said, slamming the door on her painful memories, “as you well know, I am nothing like my father. I do not wish to marry with any fanfare.” A civil ceremony in San Diego would have suited her and this sham of a marriage, but she had to make some concessions to her position.
She slid a glance at Alex, who stood patiently beside her, watching and listening with more interest than she expected—or wanted—from a perfect stranger. His brows were drawn together, as if something puzzled him. Julia wished she knew what he was thinking, then decided she’d rather not, because she probably wouldn’t like it.
Mary clucked her tongue and sighed. “Very well. Whatever the bride wants, she shall have. It’s no wonder you’re looking tired. Losing sleep is to be expected. Wedding day jitters are perfectly normal you know. All will be well after tomorrow. Just tell me what time Kate and I should come over to help you dress.”
“Oh, uh, honestly, that won’t be necessary.” If she let Mary and her eighteen-year-old daughter help, they would flit around her apartment, eagerly discussing love and children. The Dolans wanted the Friday evening ceremony to be beautiful and romantic and perfect, her once-upon-a-time dream wedding. “I bought a ready-made dress at Marston’s over in San Diego, and it’s a very simple design. There are some buttons in the back, but I should be able to manage on my own.”
Mary’s face fell, and the twinkle in her eyes dulled. “Oh, I see.” She fluttered a hand in front of her. “There I go again, keeping Mr. MacLean from the doctor. Please, this way.”
As Mary ushered them along the hallway, past the empty white bench occasionally filled with waiting patients, tears clawed at Julia’s eyes. She hated hurting her friend, hated everything her father’s final decree was making her do. She had not been sleeping well. If only her wedding had come and gone, she could get on with her life.
Mary knocked at the office door, then pushed it open. The smell of soap drifted into the hallway. “Harold dear, you have a patient. A Mr. MacLean. Julia has brought him.”
“Come in, come in,” Dr. Dolan said, his white shirtsleeves rolled above thick forearms. Stepping away from his cluttered roll-top desk, he waved them inside.
They entered the combination office and examining area. Mr. MacLean followed so closely behind her that a tingling sensation climbed Julia’s spine, taking her mind off her trials. His male strength seemed to tower over her, encompass and warm her. It also set her nerves on edge and confused her. She quickened her steps, opening the distance between them to where she could breathe more easily. She tried to dismiss his curious effect on her.
The doctor greeted them and ambled over to Mary. They were a matched pair, like bookends or salt-and-pepper shakers. He brushed his thumb over a spot of flour on her cheek. “My dear, I can see that I am going to be eating something delicious later today.”
The twinkle returned to her eyes. “Oh! My pie crust! I must get back to it before it dries out.” She gave her husband a loving smile. “And, yes, it will be delicious.”
Julia turned away from them and the fond and familiar touches they shared every day, the type of loving touches she envied and would never know. She stared out the paned window overlooking the beach and ocean. Gulls wheeled and screeched above the surf, carefree, as the sun dropped toward the horizon. Pressing her fingertips against the cool pane of glass, she touched the tangibility of the Hotel Grand Victoria and accepted her choice. Keeping her face to the window, she quickly brushed away an unbidden, traitorous tear sliding down her cheek.
When the door clicked shut, Julia turned to find Mary gone and Dr. Dolan shaking hands with Mr. MacLean.
“That’s a nasty scar you’ve got there,” he said, reaching toward it, index finger extended.
Mr. MacLean reared back, shying like a thoroughbred and grimacing at his own sudden movement. He pressed a hand to his ribs.
“I’m not going to hurt you, young man. My interest is purely clinical.” The doctor didn’t touch him, but he leaned in close, squinting his eyes. “Looks to me like you didn’t get medical attention as soon as you should have. What happened?”
Mr. MacLean moved his head this way and that, clearly uncomfortable at having someone peering at him so closely. “You have a good eye, Doc.”
“And you were lucky not to have lost an eye.” Dr. Dolan straightened and waited for him to tell his story.
Julia waited as well, though she was torn between a desire to know what had happened to him and a need to protect him from talking about an incident that obviously distressed him. She did not want to cause him more pain than he was already feeling.
He said nothing.
Dr. Dolan pursed his lips, waited a moment longer, then said, “Perhaps it’s a story for another day. Mr. MacLean, what has brought you to my office late this afternoon?”
Julia let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“I fell against one of the hitching posts.” He pointed to a lower section of his back. “I expect I’ve got a couple of bruised ribs.”
“He did not fall,” she said. “Mr. MacLean is being modest. He struck a hitching post in the act of protecting me
from a flowerpot that accidentally fell off one of the balconies above the hotel’s entrance.”
Her protector turned a very direct gaze on her. “There was nothing accidental about that geranium pot. Someone threw it at you when you walked out from under the portico.”
If he didn’t look so serious, she might have laughed at such a notion. “Mr. MacLean, I don’t mean to seem discourteous or ungrateful, but do you normally wear spectacles?”
His shoulders seemed to grow bigger. “My vision is perfect.”
“If there is any doubt,” Dr. Dolan said, “I have an eye chart Mr. MacLean can look at.”
He scowled down at him.
“Or not.” The doctor stepped to the far side of his examining table.
Mr. MacLean slanted his scowl at her next. “Who wants to hurt you, Miss Fairbanks?”
“No one!”
“Someone does. Someone with a strong arm and deadly aim.”
She swallowed hard. He couldn’t be right, could he? “I … will admit that some of the hotel staff resisted my taking charge after my father’s death, but that was six months ago. Now they’re accustomed to having me as their manager.” Well, some of them were. Even after all this time, there were still a few holdouts. “I cannot believe anyone would want to physically hurt me. A child playing on the balcony could have knocked the pot over.”
“That flowerpot had an angled trajectory. A little earlier, I saw someone moving around on that balcony, but I couldn’t see who. The geraniums were too thick.”
Dr. Dolan pulled at one of his graying eyebrows. “Julia, maybe you ought to listen to the man.”
“No, I cannot believe it,” she said, unwilling to accept that someone could hate her enough to try to injure her. Searching for a reason not to trust Mr. MacLean’s statement, she remembered her concern for him when he’d seemed lost in the sight of something only he could see. “Perhaps you were confused. Forgive me for saying this, but, moments before, you had been staring up at the hotel like a fortune teller in a trance.”
Air hissed through Alex’s teeth. “I was not in a trance. I was …” A haunted look came over his face, a look of soul-shattering sadness. He turned toward the window.
Julia’s heart beat harder. She recognized that deep well of sadness. She had seen that same look in her bedroom mirror when she lost her mother and then Lily. Had Mr. MacLean also lost someone close to him?
She took a step toward him. “I’m sorry, Mr. MacLean. I did not intend to cause you pain. That’s the last thing I would have wanted.”
“I’m fine. Forget about it.”
“Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“No.” He turned back but avoided her gaze. “No one can. Worry about yourself, Miss Fairbanks. I’m not confused about what I saw or how far away the flowerpot landed from that balcony. You’re the one in danger.”
She frowned. He truly believed her life was at risk. If he was right, then she had been living in a fantasy world, naively believing everything was going well, that her guests and employees cared about her as much as she cared about them.
Julia chewed on her thumbnail, hoping he was wrong. She had enough to worry about without adding “beware of assassins” to her list. Not watching out for herself would be foolish, though. She would take care. In addition, she would make certain Mr. MacLean was all right. She owed him, and she would do whatever she could to help him, whether he wanted her help or not.
Chapter Two
Dr. Dolan patted the cushioned examining table. “Have a seat, Mr. MacLean, and I’ll take a look at you.”
Julia arranged her skirts and settled herself on a nearby chair to wait upon the doctor’s verdict.
“Julia,” Dr. Dolan said, propping his fists on his hips, “last week your presence was appropriate when you brought in that six-year-old boy with the scraped elbow, but I imagine Mr. MacLean would appreciate some privacy.”
“Oh!” Glancing over at the man hitching himself onto the table, she started to get up. “Of course. I’m sorry.”
“She can stay if she wants.” To her surprise, he began unfastening his shirt. Evidently Mr. MacLean’s discomfiture with his face did not extend to the rest of his body. He did not look at her.
“As you wish,” the doctor muttered when she dropped back onto her chair.
Alex’s fingers deftly moved from one button to the next, and the impropriety of her being there flew out of her head. She couldn’t seem to look away from him. With her attention riveted on his body, she forgot about his scar. The widening V of his exposed flesh and chest hair fascinated her, making her heart race even faster than the first time Edison’s electric lighting system was switched on in the hotel. She didn’t understand how the incandescent lights worked, but their illumination had taken her breath away, just as Alex MacLean was doing to her now.
Julia decided she should leave the office after all. Her reaction to this man was making her think and feel things outside her realm of experience. She needed to maintain control of herself and her situation. However, before she could get up, he tugged his shirttail free of his pants and shrugged off his shirt.
Her pulse rose, and she let her gaze wander over his impressive physique. Not even the bathing costumes her male guests wore into the ocean exposed this much flesh. Alex exhibited a tanned and muscular figure. From this angle, he showed no signs of injury, only the harnessed strength she had felt while in his arms.
Imagining herself back in those arms, Julia felt breathless, as if she had climbed to the hotel’s fifth floor without using the elevator.
A knock at the door made her jump.
Dr. Dolan answered it, and Theo stuck his head inside.
“Miss Fairbanks, forgive the intrusion, but I wanted to report that the geranium debris has been cleaned up, and I’ve checked the other pots on that balcony.” He stepped inside and gently closed the door. “It’s the strangest thing, though.” He pulled on one of his wiry, white eyebrows.
“What is?” she asked, afraid she already knew the answer.
“Number one, no one is registered to that room. Number two, that pot should not have fallen. Even if it had, it wouldn’t have landed where it did.”
She laced her fingers tightly together in her lap and met Alex MacLean’s knowing gaze. She could not dismiss his claim anymore. She trusted Theo. Since his first day of work when the hotel opened, he had been reliable and observant.
“I can hardly bear to say this, Miss Fairbanks,” Theo said, “but I think someone picked it up and threw it.”
She nodded, the movement jerky. “At me.”
“You know?”
“Mr. MacLean shares your opinion.”
Her protector shifted on the examining table and spoke. “Theo, have you told anyone else what you found?”
“No, sir, I came straight here.”
“Then don’t. I think it’s best we not alert whoever was on that balcony that we know what he did.”
Julia nodded. “And I’d rather not frighten the guests.” She did not foresee any danger to them since she had been the apparent target. “Did you notice anything else, Theo?”
“The door was unlocked.”
“So anyone could have gotten in there,” Alex said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Call me Alex.” He rubbed the side of his ribs. “As a bellboy, you have access to the entire hotel and everyone in it. How would you feel about keeping your eyes and ears open for anyone acting suspiciously or speaking against Miss Fairbanks?”
“Of course I’ll do that.” He faced her. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, her throat tight. His loyalty and concern touched her deeply.
“I’ll be going then.” Theo reached for the doorknob. “I’ll report anything I find out.”
When the door clicked shut behind him, Julia found Alex and the doctor watching her, as if they expected her to start crying or collapse in a heap of nerves on the floor.
“Doctor,” she said, “please go on with your examination. I need a few moments to think.” Except that she didn’t know what to think. She didn’t want to believe that someone wanted to hurt her.
“Very well.” The doctor walked around behind Alex and leaned in to examine his back and side. “Hmm.” He probed the area with his fingers.
His patient sucked in a breath. “You found the spot, Doc.”
“It wasn’t difficult. A good-sized bruise is already coming up.” He pressed several more places. “The shells from the drive have left their mark as well, but fortunately they did not break the skin.”
“Miss Fairbanks,” Alex said, his muscles taut and voice rough, “while the doctor inflicts more pain on me, tell me about any enemies you might have. It’s a sure bet some of your male employees aren’t happy about working under a female.”
She straightened in the chair. From outside the open window came the rhythmic ping of rackets hitting a tennis ball across the net, the joyful squeals of children playing in the sand, and the sound of waves washing the beach. Julia hated the thought of danger lurking in the idyllic setting of her home.
“No one has been outwardly menacing or threatening.” She kept her eyes fixed on Alex’s face so his chest would not distract her. “If someone was that unhappy about working for me, he could have left at any time since I took over.”
“Not everyone has the luxury of leaving a good job,” he said, then glared over his shoulder at the doctor when another tender spot was probed. “Has anyone been especially rude to you?”
“Take a deep breath,” Dr. Dolan ordered.
Alex inhaled slowly and deeply, wincing.
Julia winced, too. He was in pain because of her.
“Only one person comes to mind,” she said. “Mr. Chalmers works the registration desk, and he has made no secret of his feelings for me. He dislikes new ideas, unless they are his own. Getting him to implement my ideas is a constant battle. I think he enjoys undermining me, but I keep hoping he’ll come around.”