These kids wouldn’t want hot dogs or chili again anytime soon. Or maybe they would. Teenagers were a resilient bunch.
With the last green teen ushered out the door with his mom and dad, Felicity had passed out for a few hours in the lounge then worked the rest of the day shift.
Still slumped in the driver’s seat she tried to summon the energy to get in the house and take a shower. Then she’d see if she could beg a bowl of stew and maybe a leftover biscuit from John. After eating from the vending machine all day, she wanted something tasty and nourishing. If he wasn’t too mad about her skipping out just as he was about to get his. And getting home too late to go out to dinner as they’d planned.
Felicity managed to make it into the house, but when she passed the living room window, she paused to peek at John’s.
The curtains were drawn.
Odd. Wow, maybe she’d angered him. She took a few more steps and sank onto the couch, trying to decide if she should be worried or afraid. Or relieved it ended before things went too far. A signal to her? It’s over? Don’t look in my window anymore?
I’m doing something I don’t want you to see?
Her fuzzy brain processed she’d left a man with a raging erection and run off into the night. How many doctors had told her their relationships broke up because they could be called out at any time?
If John had done something to make sure she couldn’t see into his house, he must be doing something he didn’t want her to see. Her heavy head fell back against the pillows. Maybe she should go knock on the door. But it was so far away, and her leaden legs ached. And she would be finding something she didn’t want to see.
After one evening together, they had no relationship. She couldn’t burst in and throw some skanky woman out on her ass. She had no right. John should be with someone who wouldn’t leave him alone when he needed her. Someone who hadn’t built high walls to avoid getting hurt again. Someone whole.
Exhaustion clouded her ability to think.
Tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes, Felicity curled up in a ball and cried herself to sleep.
Chapter 5
Audrey marched back toward the saloon, head held high. A woman, who’d traveled thousands of miles across the country just to get the man she wanted, had backbone. At least she’d better. When Earl moved West, she’d been cast adrift. They had an understanding. Had since they’d been small children dressed in their finest at parties held by their parents. Playing under the trees in the garden, tiptoeing in to nibble on the elegant treats so beautifully arranged on the starched white tablecloths before the servants shooed them away.
Children were to be seen and not heard, even the scions of the Hollingsworth family and hers, but as they lingered on the staircase, listening to the adult conversation below, Audrey had heard the cheerful comments about her and one of the boys. Their fathers’ partnership could be extended into the next generation by a marriage between Audrey and one of the twins.
The adults didn’t seem to care which one, rousing her youthful ire at every turn. How could they act as if stuffy, stuck-up Royal and kind, easygoing Earl with the twinkle in his eye were interchangeable?
Not many people could tell Earl and Royal apart, but she’d never had any problem. The sole thing they had in common besides their appearance was their competitive spirit. Anything one had, the other wanted.
And she’d never doubted which one she wanted. Leaving her family to cross the country had burned bridges, but most could be rebuilt. Thrusting her hand into her skirt pocket, she fingered a stiff envelope with the letter from her mother. She’d memorized the threat at the end.
Your father has agreed to accept you back if you pack your things and board a train for Boston to marry Royal Hollingsworth. The fine, successful young man assures us he still wants your hand, despite your shameful exodus, and this is your last chance to regain respectability and re-enter society. He insisted on paying your train fare. If you do not arrive within one month of the date of this letter, you will no longer be our daughter.
She’d packed. Checked out of her room at the hotel and gone to the station. She’d held on until the last possible moment to meet her parents’ deadline. Boarded the train and took a seat. As she’d reached to hand the ticket to the conductor, she’d been unable to open her fist. Visions of her life as Mrs. Hollingsworth—the wrong Mrs. Hollingsworth—crowded her mind. Afternoon tea, visiting with her mother, shopping for hats and dresses for the season... all pleasant enough activities. For a moment the idea soothed her and loosened her grip on the ticket. Then she saw the grand bedroom in Hollingsworth House, Royal’s new home, where she would pass her time alone with her husband. With a man who wanted her because his brother did. As a pretty bauble to decorate his home and bear his odious, stuffy children.
Struck by the sheer idiocy of her decision, she’d leapt from the seat and off the train moments before it chugged out of town. It took some convincing but the stationmaster allowed her to cash in her ticket and she returned to the hotel where she used the money to pay for a little longer in her room. If Earl had no use for her, she, unlike their families, did not consider the two brothers interchangeable. Before she married the wrong Hollingsworth, she would do the unthinkable.
John’s truck was not in his driveway. Hadn’t been for the past few days in fact. She’d have realized that, if she hadn’t been so tired and out of it the other night. So he wasn’t avoiding her. But he’d left town without a word, stood her up for their date—never mind her own lateness that evening—she chose not to look at her fault too closely. After all, he’d left town!
Felicity steered into the suburban Denver neighborhood, her wipers swishing back and forth in the unpredicted downpour. No barbecue today. Maybe they could order pizza. With Denver an hour away from Corbin’s Bend, and most of what she required available close to home, she rarely came into the big city anymore. Only for sessions with Eric, and his blatant interest in her had begun to cloud their working time together. They were colleagues and friends and on some level she resented the fact he treated her differently than he would a male colleague under the same circumstances. She’d dealt with this since medical school with a semi-interlude during her marriage to Pierre. Even then, some of her research partners seemed to consider an affair part of the process. But her marital status gave impetus to her refusals. Not one worth a hair on Pierre’s head.
Still, Eric had not been rude or too handsy or anything. And she had not expressed her rejection of him firmly enough.
She’d married once for love, for passion, eloping with a much older man despite the warnings from her family and friends.
So young and sure of herself.
Look where her decision left her. Widowed. Alone and confused. A workaholic with little social life. Since she wouldn’t stop working day and night, she needed someone who understood her personality. Someone who worked as hard as she did and who could even share some of those hours with her.
Someone like Eric.
But his heated glances, his suggestions, his affectionate hugs when she arrived and left held no interest for her. She always offered her cheek for his kiss, never her lips despite the disappointment in his eyes afterward.
Maybe she’d been stupid to respond the way she had to her neighbor. John was a dominant guy, lots of control, and his touch sent her flying. Awoke desires she’d locked in the closet at the back of her mind. But could he tolerate being involved with a woman whose career dominated her life twenty-four hours a day? Would he feel like second priority?
Darlin’, around here, I’m not the one standing in the corner.
Heat snaked down her spine, blooming in her core. The phrase should have sounded hokey, but, somehow, from her cowboy it didn’t.
Her cowboy? She’d spent one evening with the man and she was ready to let him do anything to her. Anytime. If it weren’t for the emergency call, they’d have had an amazing night. Even with the interruption, it had been the first time she’
d felt alive since… since Pierre.
Approaching Eric’s driveway, she clicked on the turn signal and made a left. He owned a large home, his position the same as hers but at a much larger hospital with a commensurate larger paycheck. But she loved her small house with its easy to maintain yard and friendly neighbors. Friendly. Roy and Teri were friendly. Kirsten was friendly.
John and she had crossed the friendly line.
Before she let the situation in Corbin’s Bend get out of hand, she needed to reconsider the benefits of being with someone like Eric. It stood to reason if she did let things take their course with her fellow doctor, she’d end up right back here where she’d been before accepting the position in Corbin’s Bend.
The custom log home, set on a large lot, was hardly a fate worse than death and Eric could cook a little, at least he liked to barbecue. Could he make biscuits?
Stop that!
How did I ever get so confused?
Before she’d met John, she’d pretty well decided to embrace her widowhood and give Eric the brushoff, insist they stay colleagues and if he refused to cooperate, fine. After this project, she’d find another research partner. But one evening with her cowboy showed her how many of her needs weren’t being met without a partner. Pierre’s sudden death of a brain aneurism had devastated her, left her adrift and lonely, but she’d convinced herself she should be grateful for a fulfilling career. Emergency medicine offered so many opportunities to help others.
She’d had love, a great love with an extraordinary man.
Most people never approached the life she’d been privileged to live so far. Why wasn’t it enough?
“Felicity!”
She started, when her car door opened. “Eric. I didn’t hear you approach.”
He grinned and extended a hand, holding an umbrella over them with the other. “I watched from the window, but I started to be afraid you’d either forgotten your umbrella and didn’t want to get wet or had changed your mind and weren’t coming in.” She allowed him to help her from the car, surprised at his sudden burst of chivalry. Eric was smart and funny, but not someone who opened car doors for women.
Releasing her hand, he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her to his side. “Stay close, or you’ll get soaked.” As they scurried toward the porch, she tried to avoid puddles, but her damp shoes squished by the time he released her to close the umbrella.
Relieved, she bent to take off her sneakers. “I should have been better prepared today. I thought the forecast was for lots of sunshine.”
He ushered her into the foyer and left his shoes and socks next to hers by the door. “Yes, which was why I suggested grilling out, but looks like Mother Nature had another plan.”
Felicity followed him through the house in her bare feet. “No problem. Let’s get to the files and then maybe we can order takeout.” And maybe she would take a chance on the logical choice and let him seduce her. If she could summon the enthusiasm.
Every time she entered Eric’s home office, she felt like a little girl in her father’s sophisticated man cave. Burgundy leather and dark wood gleamed, thanks to the housekeeper who came twice a week and ensured not a speck of dust marred the glossy surfaces. Deep carpets scattered about silenced their footfalls as she approached the chair before his desk. Even the street sounds didn’t intrude on the hush. A series of three landscapes, English countryside in fall, winter, and spring hung on the walls not occupied by the large window with its heavy, closed curtains.
Eric paused behind her at the doorway. “What would you like to drink?”
She’d refused before, afraid of spilling on the immaculate wood, but he always insisted, so she shrugged. “Water, I guess.” It was less likely to stain than anything else.
“I’ll be right back.”
Eric’s study. The rich tones and silence. She could imagine herself being called to the headmaster’s office for punishment in there. Or maybe a certain author… Who had spent one evening with her and disappeared. If she wanted a relationship, why not consider the logical choice?
Eric was handsome, successful, and only a few year older than her. They shared a passion for medicine, and he would never expect her to put her career second—like so many of her colleagues complained their spouses did. With Eric, she could have the best of both worlds, wife and physician. Researcher and hands-on doctor.
Maybe he could be coaxed into a little spanking from time to time. His desk could accommodate a woman spread over its surface, fingers clinging to the edge while the man of the house swung a paddle over her bare bottom. In her fantasy, she was that woman, breath sobbing in and out of her lungs while her head of household raised welts across her thighs with his belt. But when the fantasy man gathered her in his arms, it wasn’t Eric’s belt in his hands. The worn leather with the large buckle was a cowboy’s belt. The callused hands stroking her hair back from her forehead those of a man who’d spent years working out of doors. The face… the face…
“I brought you fizzy water. I thought you might prefer it for a change.”
She jumped, guilty at being caught daydreaming about another man in Eric’s study. It seemed immoral somehow. Lifting the tall glass to her lips, ice cubes clinking, she took a long drink to buy time to gather herself.
Her nipples poked against her shirt, her panties damp between her legs. But not because of the successful, interesting doctor who rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed before moving around his desk to take a seat.
Dammit! She hand’t noticed much about John’s belt when they were together. Why was it so vivid in her mind now?
Eric drew a file from his top drawer and opened it. “Here is the new information I wanted us to go over today.”
They worked, they ate takeout Chinese, and, out of guilt at her naughty daydream using his furniture, she even allowed Eric a quick peck on her lips instead of turning her head as she usually did. Giving him hope would be unkind, though. Unless she intended to take a chance on a relationship with him. So when he asked her to stay and go out to dinner, she turned him down.
Rain turned to sleet halfway home, and Felicity slowed to accommodate the slippery conditions and welcomed the need to focus on her driving. Twisting thoughts of where her life might lead chased one another in her mind. If a relationship with Eric wasn’t such a no-brainer, she’d never consider him. In fact, until her evening with John, she hadn’t considered him. And she’d been delighted to make the move to Corbin’s Bend.
But she had not planned to meet anyone; she liked the friendly atmosphere, and the opportunity to take charge of the new emergency department had been the frosting on top of the cake. In the back of her mind, she’d thought she might date a little. Someday. In the far distant future. A woman did have needs. And any man she dated in Corbin’s Bend would know how to meet them.
A few men had asked her out, coworkers mostly, but she hadn’t accepted, explained she was too busy to date and hadn’t regretted her decisions.
At all.
She’d become convinced her romantic life ended with Pierre’s death and been ready to settle for being Doctor Franceaux, widow of Pierre, never to marry again.
Then she’d spent one evening eating stew and biscuits and presenting herself naked to the sexiest cowboy on the face of the Earth.
Perhaps some emergency had drawn John away.
Somehow Corbin’s Bend held less charm with a missing cowboy than it had before.
Chapter 6
Audrey peeked around the corner at the saloon. The muddy lane hardly qualified as a street, but the crowds moving back and forth on the Cowman’s Road were intimidating. There were cowboys in their Saturday best, ranchers strolling with their freshly coiffed wives in their high-necked dresses made from yards of fabrics imported from the East, farmer’s wagons emptied of produce rattling and bouncing on their way out of town, with children hanging over the sides, drowsy and dusty from their day playing in the streets. She’d been shocked to see Earl on Friday n
ight. He hadn’t mentioned the drive and she’d thought to be employed and ready to ignore him by the time he came to town.
She should have taken the train… taken it as far from any Hollingsworth as she could get. Heartbreak awaited her here or with Royal and she had to make a living somehow. The one-room schoolhouse outside town employed the spinster sister of the preacher, but many towns along the rail line were desperate for a single woman of good repute and a decent education to teach their barefoot children their ABCs. In fact, in some, the education element was optional.
Reputation was everything.
She had just traded her chance to keep hers intact. When she traded her train ticket money for hotel money, she’d made it impossible to find those jobs. The sole employment available for a woman in this town waited around the corner. Midafternoon aged and soon the sun would set. The day’s heat softened into the cool of evening and when she peeked again the crowd on the main street had thinned, the farm folk halfway home by now and the ranchers and their wives either in the new hotel restaurant or perhaps visiting friends for the evening. The remaining traffic headed for the saloon in a steady stream.
Men.
Men of all ages and all levels of wealth who sought the comfort of the local watering hole and the company of the dancing girls and… and whatever those other women were. She was innocent but she wasn’t stupid and she listened,
Soon she’d be one of them. A dance hall girl. If they’d have her. Smoothing her claret poplin over her hips, she straightened her spine and strode onto Cowman’s and toward the saloon.
What choice did she have?
And why had she boxed herself in this way? While rumor held that many of the single men found their wives among the dancing girls and fallen women of the saloon, a man like Earl wouldn’t look twice at someone of such low morals. And if he hadn’t wanted her as a paragon of Eastern virtue, her new job would also close the door on the relationship proposed by his brother.
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