by Carol Ross
“Kayleen!” Iris said, hurrying forward to embrace her friend after she hopped out. “Anne, Chloe, Summer.” She hugged each of them. “What are you guys doing here?”
“We’re here for our annual Alaska excursion.”
“But that’s not for a couple more weeks.”
“It was originally,” Kayleen drawled, “but we had a change of plans.”
“Wait,” Iris said. “Did you come early for our party?”
“You know about the party?” Ally asked.
Flynn looked at Ally. “Yeah, she figured it out.”
Ally huffed an amused sigh. “Sure, she did. I knew she would.”
“We did,” a grinning Kayleen answered Iris. “We’d planned to come next month. But Anne was chatting with Bering a couple weeks ago and he mentioned your anniversary party and that Tag was giving you your plane today. And, well, we couldn’t resist a good surprise.” She added a satisfied chuckle and waved a hand at the plane. “This was sort of a spur-of-the-moment thing. We got here and I saw the plane sitting here and it came to me. I confess I have no self-control.”
“For which I am so, so grateful,” Cricket quipped.
Kayleen looked at Tag. “You could have gotten it painted first, you know?” she joked. “You think Iris wants to fly around giving you free advertising?”
Tag chuckled. “Stop busting my chops. I intend to.”
Cricket was gazing at Kayleen in adoration. “Kayleen, will you marry me?”
She belted out a laugh. “You know, I might have considered it if I wasn’t too young to settle down.”
* * *
LATER THAT EVENING, after a fun-filled party that had Iris wondering why she’d waited so long to acquiesce, she sat on the deck of their apartment above Doc’s garage and wondered how to best broach the topic on her mind with Flynn. Their bags were packed, and since they were leaving early in the morning, they’d tucked Lily in at her parents’ house, where she’d be staying for the week. She heard the sliding door open behind her.
“Hey,” Flynn said, stepping out to join her. “What are you doing out here?”
“Thinking.”
He stepped closer, leaned in and kissed her neck. “Good things, I hope?”
“The best things.” Iris glanced up and felt her heart swell with love like it always did when she looked at him. “The very best things,” she reiterated. “Happy anniversary, Flynn.”
He moved around to sit in the chair beside her. “I have something for you.” He produced a gift bag. “It’s not quite as showy as a new airplane but I think you’ll like it.”
Iris grinned and thought about Hazel’s list. Flynn was a brilliant gift giver, thoughtful and creative. She reached inside and removed two picture frames.
“They’re the digital kind.” Reaching over, he tapped a button on the side and a slide show began to play. “On this one, there are photos of our life in Alaska to keep at our place in DC.” Iris watched photos flash by—baby Lily cuddled in Hazel’s arms in the hammock in her parents’ backyard, Iris and Flynn kayaking, Lily fishing with Doc, Lily with her new cousin, Augusta, Shay and Jonah’s daughter, lying on a blanket. And on it went. Flynn fired up the other frame. “And this one we’ll keep here.” Photos of their life in DC lit up the screen—Flynn, Iris and Lily at the bagel shop, Lily on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial with Flynn, Lily with Sebastien, Drew and Madison at the National Zoo.
Tears flooded her eyes. “Flynn, it’s perfect.” She leaned over and kissed him. “My turn.” She reached over and picked up a folder from the ground beside her, relieved that Flynn had given her the opening she needed to start this discussion. She handed it to him. “It’s not a done deal or anything. I wanted to talk to you first.”
Expression a little wary, he opened it, but kept his eyes on her. “What is this?”
“The paperwork to buy Doc’s practice.”
“Iris, no. We already agreed on this. My residency is almost finished and we decided we’d move to DC. I don’t care where we live as long as we’re together.”
“I know. I know you say that, and I believe you. But I see you, Flynn. I see how much this place means to you, how much you love it here. I know your dream is to be a small-town doctor.”
“You love DC. You love your job. You are living your dream, Iris, and I would never take that from you.”
“I know, and it just makes me love you more, if that’s possible. But my dream has evolved—it’s about our dreams now. And I keep thinking, what if we don’t move to DC permanently? At least, not right away. I know this commuting is challenging but we’re making it work, right? I’m not saying we’ll do it forever. Lily might reach a point where she needs to be more settled or we’ll get tired of traveling. But let’s do it for as long as it works.”
“Are you sure about this?” He asked the question carefully, but Iris could see the possibility, the happiness sparkling in his eyes. Flynn had done so much for her, given her so much joy, fostered her courage and given her new dreams. It felt incredible to return the favor.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, except for you and Lily. And honestly, I’m not ready to leave this place behind so soon. Not when I’m just learning to appreciate it. With you.”
* * *
Don’t miss more great titles in the
miniseries Seasons of Alaska,
from acclaimed author Carol Ross:
Bachelor Remedy
A Family Like Hannah’s
If Not for a Bee
A Case for Forgiveness
Mountains Apart
Available today from www.Harlequin.com!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Tennessee Reunion by Carolyn McSparren.
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Tennessee Reunion
by Carolyn McSparren
CHAPTER ONE
SOMETHING’S ALIVE INSIDE that van, and it wants out now.
It squealed.
Thwock!
Veterinarian Vince Peterson recognized the sound of hooves kicking the inside wall.
Then came a whinny. The vehicle’s windows were tinted, so Vince couldn’t see inside, but from that soprano neigh, he could guess what was causing the fuss.
Sounded as though someone who should have known better had shut one of the miniature horses this farm raised inside that van.
Minis could be transported in a van or the bed of a pickup truck, but leaving them unattended
for long was a recipe for disaster. Most horses settled down once they were on the road, but they tended to get fractious when they were left parked for long, and as small as those hooves were, they could do major damage. These confined creatures were notifying whoever was in charge that they had been abandoned, and they didn’t like it. Besides, the inside of that van probably smelled too much of human and not enough of horse to be comfortable for them.
Another squeal erupted, followed by a couple of stomps and a kick that reverberated outside like a rifle shot.
From under the trees at the far side of the nearby paddock came an answering neigh. A buddy? A son? A stallion talking to one of his mares? Vince glanced across the paddock to identify the source.
Suddenly the windshield of the van exploded into glass pellets that rained down on the hood and on Vince. He jumped back and brushed at his face.
“Hey!” he shouted as a fuzzy brown-and-white streak shot through the empty space where the windshield had been, scrabbled across the hood and hit the ground.
“Whoa!” Vince yelled. In the moment the little horse took to get over its surprise at sudden freedom, Vince grabbed the lead line attached to the halter. Then they were off.
The horse had the forward momentum of a tank and the belly circumference of a miniature hippo. Vince found himself skiing through the mud on the heels of his boots.
From his vantage point he could see he had hold of a mare. Possibly a wounded mare from all that glass. She raced toward the five-bar paddock gate that was taller than she was.
Was she going to try to jump it? If she chose to try, either he followed and crashed, or he dropped the line. He’d run hurdles in college, but no way he could clear this gate even at a dead run.
Surely the mare would never attempt a jump that high. She’d veer off along the fence line. He’d be able to catch her again.
He let go of the lead line.
Veer? No way! If she’d been a regular-sized horse, she could have jumped over Mars. She cleared the gate and skidded to a halt beside the other little horse, the one that had neighed at her and caused this breakout in the first place.
They whinnied at one another, while the little mare nibbled the other horse’s neck. Vince checked for the sheen of blood on her coat. Nothing obvious, but against her chestnut hair, blood might not show up until he ran his hands over her and felt the moisture. He had to catch her again before he could do it.
She was probably the other horse’s mother. Possibly the colt wasn’t fully weaned, although it was an inch taller than its mother and wouldn’t fit under her to nurse.
Vince slipped through the sally port beside the gate and took several careful steps toward the pair. They were more interested in their reunion than in him, but he didn’t attempt to get close enough to pick up the mare’s lead line again in case that started them running.
Vince was not used to a horse of any size getting away from him. Certainly not one no larger than a full-grown ram. At least she didn’t have horns to poke him in the gut. He’d never enjoyed that sensation, and rams would do it if their ewes were threatened. Assuming they didn’t prefer to belt you one behind the knees and knock you flat. That was fun too.
“Hey!” a female voice called from inside the stable at the far end of the paddock. A moment later a woman ran toward him. She wore a broad-brimmed hat that kept her face in shadow, and she sounded annoyed. “What the heck happened?” She pointed to the pellets of broken windshield on the hood of the van.
“She wanted her colt. I assume he’s hers. He is a male, isn’t he? From this angle I can’t tell.”
Mother and son noticed the woman coming toward them and trotted over to greet her, but not close enough to catch. Vince followed.
“Yeah, he’s a colt all right, and becoming tougher and tougher to handle safely. His mother thinks he’s weaned. He doesn’t necessarily agree. If he tries to nurse, she’s likely to hand him his head on a platter.” She glanced up at him. “Or he’ll kick and bite somebody like you. You’re a bigger target.”
She reached down, grasped the little mare’s lead line and flipped her hand at the colt. “Scat.” The stud colt shook his mane and ambled off. Not far. He hovered, ready to insinuate himself back into contact with the mare.
“What possessed you to pull an idiotic stunt like leaving that mare alone in the back of that van?” Vince snapped. “She could have been cut to ribbons on the windshield.”
She brushed her own mane of shining auburn hair out of her eyes, squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I did not put her in the van in the first place. I just got here, Doctor. Mrs. Martin must have thought she’d be okay alone and went off for a few minutes. If I’d known she was inside the van, I’d have unloaded her before she broke out. I am not in the habit of shirking my responsibilities.”
Uh-oh. She made “Doctor” sound like a swear word.
“You are Dr. Peterson, right? You were supposed to be here an hour ago. If you’d been on time...”
“Had an emergency at the clinic,” he said. “I got here as quick as I could. And you are? Are you in charge?”
From behind them came a soprano shriek and a thud.
Vince spun around in time to see the mare wheel, buck and land a solid kick on her colt’s chest. So much for mother love. The colt backed out of range.
“I’d say he hasn’t been weaned long enough to have forgotten she was the one who nursed him,” Vince said. “If he keeps trying, he’s going to get his teeth handed to him. Come on, we need to get her out of this paddock before she decides today is the day to remind him about his manners.”
“Have fun with that.” She turned away from him. “In case you can’t see from that high up, he has a whopping umbilical hernia. It’s your most immediate job. And for your information, I am Anne MacDonald, and I am not by any stretch in charge here. Not yet. You have glass pellets in your hair.”
“Good thing windshields don’t break into shards any longer. Where can I safely brush off this stuff?”
“In the back of the van she came out of. It’s going to have to be detailed anyway before we can drive it.” She put her hands on her hips and sighed. “How am I supposed to explain this to the insurance company?”
“Most insurance companies replace broken windshields,” Vince said.
“When they’re broken by a miniature horse jumping through them from inside?”
“So lie.”
At least the mare didn’t run from them this time. She was content to stand near her colt so long as he didn’t try to nurse. Vince reached for the line attached to her halter, but this Anne kept hold of it. Her hat fell back as she looked up at him. He got his first good look at her.
He was used to horse women whose sunbaked skin looked like an iguana’s. Hers was fair and as smooth as a two-year-old’s.
She must have left her sunglasses in the barn.
Her eyes weren’t green and they weren’t blue. Sort of blue with green flecks. Whatever color they were, he’d remember them. They reminded him of the cold mountain tarns in Wyoming that looked warm and inviting after a hot morning working cows. The only time he’d jumped into one, he’d darned near had a heart attack from the chill. He’d like to see those eyes warm up when they looked at him. Not happening.
“I’ll put the mare in a stall,” she said and turned away from him to check the son. “He’ll come with her. I can probably get him into a separate stall, but don’t count on it. Where do you want to sedate him so you can examine him and do his hernia surgery? You are planning on taking care of that, right?”
“And whatever else needs done. We’ll put him out in the grass over there. Cleaner, better light if I actually have to open his belly to get at the hernia. Let me go get my stuff out of my truck. When was the last time he had his shots?”
“I have no idea. Probably never.” She walked off, leading the
mare. The youngster tracked her step by step. “He’s one of the six Victoria adopted when they were abandoned. They’re totally wild.”
“Did Mrs. Martin put that mare in the van to take her somewhere else? Give her to someone else to foster?”
“Again, I don’t know. I wouldn’t think so. She only picked them up a few days ago.”
“So you have six minis total?” he asked. Since this place is called Martin’s Minis, I figured you’d have more than that.”
“Actually, Victoria has been concentrating on serving the clients who board big horses here. When she stopped breeding and showing her minis in horse shows several years ago, she sold off all of them except her mini stallion. He’s over there in his paddock. Now all of a sudden she has this additional bunch that are wild as March hares.”
Vince had been expecting to meet the owner, Victoria Martin, who must be considerably older than this woman. This was his first time at Martin’s Minis. He’d barely had time to get his assignment this morning from his boss, Barbara Carew, at her clinic. This woman could be a trainer or even a groom. Whoever she was, she sure was touchy.
Most likely, she was a client who boarded her normal-sized horse at this stable. He didn’t yet know precisely how many equines were stabled here.
He checked out her skin-tight riding britches and her tall riding boots. Yeah, she had to be a client all right. Those boots cost nearly as much as his first semester at vet school. Stable hands generally spent their days in jeans and paddock boots.
She obviously held limited authority when Victoria Martin was off the property.
He prided himself on his ability to charm both animals and women. Most animals liked him and eventually came to trust him. This particular human seemed immune. Not his fault the owner had left the mare unattended in the back of a passenger van. Not his fault he’d assumed she did it. He hadn’t seen anybody else since he got here. Not his fault he’d parked his van beside the one the farm owned. That probably didn’t trigger the mare’s bid for freedom. She was bored and annoyed at being confined. Lucky she didn’t get hurt in her great breakout.