Everything His Heart Desires

by Patricia Preston

  Amber chuckled. “See what I have to live with.”

  Natalie glanced at Noah. She and Aidan had planned to have children someday, and if life had worked out differently, they might have a little boy about Noah’s age. She had always pictured her children with black hair and dark eyes like Aidan. It had been a dream that ended abruptly.

  Josh came out of the storage room. “I’m taking the boy down to the lake. Try out the new fishing stick.” Josh was the outdoorsman who never said a whole lot. In another life, he would have been a mountain man. “When will you be done today?”

  “Natalie is my last appointment,” Amber said. “We’re gonna get some lunch and go shopping this afternoon. You two be careful.” Amber gave Josh and Noah the mother lecture about the various precautions to take in a fishing boat.

  “Me and the boy will be fine.” Josh bent and gave her a quick kiss.

  “Okay. Natalie and I are going to put some miles on that red Camaro out there.”

  Josh looked out the window at the Camaro parked by the curb. “Is that your car, Natalie?”

  “It’s a loaner,” she answered.

  “That’s one great car. She’s cherry.”

  “See.” Amber beamed. “I told you men are going to love that car,” she said to Natalie. Then, to Josh, she said, “We’re gonna get in trouble.”

  He met her gaze. “Bail will cost you,” he said, and her cheeks flamed red.

  Natalie had never seen Amber blush before, and she knew his remark had to have a risqué meaning that only Amber knew. A little secret between a husband and wife, but she didn’t inquire as to what that secret was. Some things were best left alone, especially where Amber was concerned.

  With her head covered in foil wrappings, Natalie moved to the dryer. Amber adjusted the hood and turned on the appliance. As the dryer hummed, Natalie reached for the local newspaper. She took a glance at the front page, where the headline was about improvements at the local water treatment facility.

  When she unfolded the paper, she found a supplement that was in a slick magazine format. The title of the publication was Around Town, and it featured a story about a turkey farm, as well as a segment on the garden club regarding fall flowers. Ads for local businesses filled many of the pages, as the reason for any supplement was advertising dollars. On the inside of the back cover was a call for submissions. Share your story and photographs with us.

  She looked at the publication again, considering what might be fun. Walk around town. Look for an interesting angle. Somebody with a great story. Take some pictures and put together a short article.

  She needed to do that. As much as she loved Nana and Aunt Clara and the Castle House, she was fatigued having nothing to do but putter in the attic like a mouse and wander through the downstairs in the afternoon, listening for Brett’s car.

  It would give her a purpose and something to get out and accomplish. That was good. Her new plan gave her a surge of energy.

  The dryer automatically shut off, and as Amber lifted the hood, Natalie looked up, her face alight with an excited smile. “I’ve had an epiphany.”

  Two hours later, she and Amber were cruising in Cathy the Camaro with the windows down. Amber rode in the passenger’s seat with a cold one between her knees. “Don’t you love how this car sounds?”

  Natalie brought the car to a stop at a traffic signal as they headed for the downtown historical district. She took a look at herself in the rearview mirror, admiring her new do. She loved the soft waves brushing against her throat and the blend of flaxen highlights in her gold hair. “I totally love my hair. I don’t think it has ever looked this good.”

  “I kick ass when it comes to hair.” Amber waved her hand out the window. “What a beautiful day. Fall is my favorite time of year.”

  “Mine, too.”

  A businessman strode up to the corner, absorbed in his smartphone until he noticed Cathy. He stared at the red Camaro as if it brought back old memories.

  “Omigod, wink at him,” Amber said.

  “I’ve got on sunglasses.” Natalie drove through the intersection and headed to Bluebird Park. The downtown park was a small, shady garden area with a gazebo in the center and several picnic tables located beneath the trees. It afforded downtown workers a pleasant place to take a stroll or have lunch.

  Natalie chose to go there because she wanted to photograph the Camaro, and she knew the area would provide a pretty background. Much to her delight, the park was deserted since it was too early for lunch, and she found a great spot to park parallel to the curb. She took another quick look at herself in the mirror. “I just love my hair.”

  “When was the last time you had your hair done?” Amber climbed out of the car.

  “Like a hundred years ago.” Natalie led the way across the street so that the sun was behind her. She took a couple of photos with her smartphone to check the composition.

  “I gotta get some pictures, too.” Amber held up her phone and snapped a couple. “And put them on Facebook.” She gasped as if a terrific idea had hit her. “You know what we need to do? We need to make Cathy a Facebook page! Would that not be cool?”

  “We could do that.” Natalie took another picture with her phone. “Cathy the Camaro. Come take a look at me.”

  “I bet she has a thousand likes in no time. We’ll have to post all kinds of pictures of her. Like take one of her trunk and say, ‘This is my rear end.’ And park her by other cars and say she’s the hottest babe in town.” Amber got on a roll. “We need to pose beside her. Cathy and her friends.”

  Natalie slipped the neck strap of her digital SLR over her head. Before she took her first photograph, a shiny black Mustang rumbled into view. It was an older model, with lifters on the rear end, twin exhaust system, glossy chrome wheels, tinted windows, and a hood decal that read BAD BOY.

  Amber gasped as the driver parked the fastback Mustang behind the Camaro. “Look! Cathy’s got a boyfriend.”

  “A perfect match.” Natalie laughed.

  The Mustang’s door opened, and Amber gasped, “Damn. Look at that,” as the driver emerged. “Talk about God’s gift to women.”

  Natalie pushed down her sunglasses. “Nice.”

  The driver had a dark complexion with long, jet-black hair fastened in a ponytail at the back of his neck. The navy T-shirt he wore with jeans hugged his well-shaped shoulders, and below his narrow waist, he had the lean hips and long legs. His jeans were a perfect fit.

  He walked alongside Cathy, taking a look at the Camaro’s interior.

  “Check that out. Whoa. Talk about a tight butt.” Amber snapped a picture with her phone. “This is definitely going on Facebook.”

  “What a great face,” Natalie said, noting the superb angles of his face. “I wonder if he’s part Cherokee.” Many of the local residents of Lafayette Falls had ancestors who were Cherokee as well as French.

  “Whatever he is, he’s fine. I think I’m having a hot flash.”

  Natalie nodded. “He reminds me of the guys on the covers of historical romances.” She glanced at the Mustang. “It looks like he’s done a lot of custom work on his car.” The rear of the automobile had been lifted, and there were two exhaust pipes.

  “I bet I know who he is,” Amber whispered to Natalie. “Mozart.”

  “Like the composer?”

  “Sorta. But he composes motors. He builds really fast cars and hot rods. I’ve heard that people come from all over the country to buy cars from him, and he’s been on TV, some kind of series about cars on a cable channel about racing.”

  “He’s looking at us.” Natalie glanced away. “I think he knows we’re staring at him.”

  “Hey,” he called. “Is this your car?”

  “Don’t drool, and remember, your hair looks good,” Amber whispered as they crossed the street.

  “No, it’s not my car,” Natalie said. “It belongs to a friend.”

  His mouth split into a great smile. “Hot Rod?”

  “Yea
h.” Natalie fumbled with the camera hanging around her neck. “You know him?”

  “I know him well. I’m Mozart, and we’ve done some business together.”

  “He’s letting her drive it,” Amber put in. “Because she loves these cars.” Amber nudged her.

  “He’s letting you drive Cathy? I’ll be damned.” Mozart slid up his sunglasses, revealing a pair of stunning dark eyes set in a face that had an interesting structure. She knew he would photograph beautifully.

  “I’m Natalie Spencer, and I’m a photojournalist,” she introduced herself. “I’m planning to do a few articles on some of the local people and businesses,” she explained as she offered him her hand. “I’d love to do a short interview, if you have time, and take a few photos.”

  “Sure.” His phone chirped, and he unclipped it from his belt. “Excuse me.”

  As he stepped away, Amber whispered, “You go, girl.”

  “I’m not hitting on him. I’m serious about the article,” Natalie whispered back. “And he’s a perfect model. He’s gonna photograph like a dream.”

  “I agree there.”

  “Do you want to follow me over to my shop?” Mozart asked as he stuck his phone in his pocket. “I’ve got to pick up something, and you can take some pictures there.”

  “That sounds great. Thanks.” Natalie heard her phone buzz in her purse. She dug it out and said, “Hello.”

  “Hey, just thought I’d give you a call. See what’s going on.”

  She wasn’t surprised to hear Brett’s voice, but she was surprised at the sudden need she felt. Like she wished she had both her arms and legs wrapped around him. Maybe Mozart was having a porn-like effect on her.

  She bridled down her rampant lust and shared her discovery. “While I was over at Amber’s salon this morning, I looked at the Lafayette Falls Daily, and it had a magazine supplement in it. Called Around Town.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen it. I know sometimes our office manager buys ad space in it for the clinic.”

  Natalie explained there was a call for submissions in the magazine. “I’m thinking of doing some local photography combined with a brief story and submitting it. What do you think?” Perhaps she shouldn’t give any weight to his opinion, but she did.

  “I think it’s a terrific idea. You should do it.”

  “Really?” she gushed. “I’m going to do a piece on Mozart.”

  “Hey, that would be great.”

  “You think so?” She smiled at the guy standing beside the black Mustang.

  “I do. You know what, I’ll call Sid Gatlin. He’s in charge at the newspaper. The publisher. I’ve known Sid a long time.”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  “Sure, I will. I’ve seen your work, Natalie. You’re amazing.”

  As their conversation ended, she tapped the back of the phone to her lips. Her heart literally lapped up his praise, while her rational side warned her against trusting him too far. He was going to do or say whatever it took to win. That’s just who he was.

  Natalie walked over to the Camaro, where Amber waited. While Mozart backed the Mustang out into the street, Amber shook her head. “You’ve got that I’m-so-in-love look all over your face, girlfriend.”

  She scowled at Amber. “I’m good.” I’m not in love.

  Mozart let down the window and asked, “Have you tried Cathy out yet?”

  “Tried her out?” She wasn’t certain what he meant.

  “She’s a muscle car. She can handle the gas.” He settled his sunglasses over his eyes.

  “I’d probably end up with a huge speeding ticket.”

  “I know a place. Cathy’s been there several times.” He smiled. “Strictly private.”

  She and Amber exchanged glances, and Natalie looked at the hood of the Mustang. The motor rumbled low. Bad Boy. Mozart was going to make a great story.

  “Where is it?” she asked.

  “It’s on some posted property I own at the edge of the county. It’s my own little illegal drag strip.” He pushed up his sunglasses and peered at them with mischief in his brown eyes.

  Amber smiled. She and Natalie exchanged nods. It was like the old days.

  “You had us at illegal,” Amber told Mozart.

  Chapter 13

  At the clinic, Brett sat behind a black, L-shaped desk in his office, which was a basic box of a room with his diplomas hanging on one wall and a Picasso print on the opposite one. He held the receiver of the desk phone to his ear as he waited for Sid Gatlin at the Lafayette Falls Daily to answer his call.

  While he waited, he flipped through the stack of papers left on his desk by the clinic administrator and signed various checks for office expenses as well as other business paperwork needing his signature. Multitasking, he thought, as he put the signed papers in a letter basket. He still had a stack of mail to look over, and he needed to do some personal banking as well.

  “Doctor Harris?” Sid answered.

  “Hey, Sid,” Brett said. He had treated Sid for angina and hypertension. “How’s it going?”

  “Going good,” Sid sounded a little anxious. “Doc, is there something wrong?”

  “No, I’m not calling about anything medical. This is about the newspaper.”

  “Thank God.” Sid inhaled and exhaled.

  Brett frowned. “You’re not smoking, are you?”

  Sid cleared his throat. “I just lit one up when they told me you were on the phone. Sweet Jesus.”

  “Sid, you need to quit.”

  “I just have one every now and then, Doc. Not all the time.”

  “You need to quit completely.”

  “I’m trying,” he promised. “Now what about the paper?”

  “I have a friend who would like to do some freelance work for that monthly magazine that comes out in the Friday paper,” Brett answered. “Her name’s Natalie Layton Spencer. I’ve seen some of her photography, and it’s outstanding.”

  “Natalie Layton. You’re talking about Senator Layton’s daughter?”

  “Yeah,” Brett said. Layton. The name that opened doors in Lafayette Falls.

  “I know of her. She’s been overseas for years. Working the Middle East for a British press agency,” Sid said. “And she’s here now? In Lafayette Falls?”

  “She’s visiting her grandmother for a few weeks,” Brett answered. “She’s working on a piece about the composer, Mozart, and she wanted to send it to you.”

  Sid took a draw off his cigarette. “Mozart? Okay. We could do something with a music theme.” Sid was all in. “I’d love to meet her. What about Monday? I’ll have my managing editor here, too.”

  “I’ll give her your number and have her call you.”

  “Sounds great. I’ll be looking forward to hearing from her.”

  Brett sent Natalie a text containing Sid’s phone number.

  He’s eager to meet with you.

  She responded with Thank you so much! followed by Snoopy doing the happy dance.

  Brett smiled as he put aside his phone. The phrase she had used to describe her late husband came to his mind. The wind beneath my wings. Brett wanted her to think of himself in that way. As the guy who had been there for her and not the guy who had put her down.

  His phone lit up with another message from her.

  Cathy’s gonna have her own Facebook page. Wait till you see it!

  He chuckled. Just what she needs.

  I bet she’ll have a thousand likes in no time.

  The last time I made a bet with you, I lost.

  That was just a figure of speech. Talk to you later.

  He held his phone for a moment. Tonight was Friday night. Date night. He wanted to take her out on a real date. Just the two of them. They could drive over to Nashville if she wanted an uptown night. Or they could make it a quiet evening and grill out at his house. He could show her the rest of his cars. She seemed to like his old cars.

  He put his phone on the desk as an old insecurity surfaced. High school had be
en years ago, and he’d changed. Natalie had changed. Yet, at the moment, he still felt like the boy from Trinity Road, and she was out of his league. What if she turned him down?

  She didn’t want to have regrets about another guy in her life. She didn’t appear to be interested in a relationship, and that made sense since she intended to go home to London in a few weeks. Her grandmother was the only reason she was spending time with him. He needed to leave well enough alone.

  He looked at the pile of mail waiting for him. Instead of reaching for it, he picked up his phone. He didn’t have to make a big deal of it. Just throw something out there, kinda casual. Like “Why don’t we go out tonight?”

  “Doctor Harris.” Marge, the office manager, interrupted him, and he put his phone on the desk.

  “I’ve signed all the checks and the other stuff.” He pointed to the letter basket.

  Marge, who had once been in the Air Force, still walked arrow-straight. She came into the office. “There’s an older lady out front, demanding to see you.”

  He frowned slightly. “Tell her I’m off today and give her an appointment for next week.”

  “We tried that, and she said no. She says she isn’t sick and that she has something to discuss with you. She said it was a private matter.” Marge glanced at the notepad she carried. “Her name’s Anna Layton. She definitely has an air about her. Sorta like Katharine Hepburn.”

  “I know her.” He just had no idea what Anna was doing at his office. “I’ll be happy to talk with her.”

  While Marge was gone to get Anna, he raked the stack of mail into a desk drawer and straightened his desk accessories, including his nameplate. Then he yanked one of his white lab coats from his office closet and threw it on over his shirt and pants. Freshly dry-cleaned, the white coat didn’t have a wrinkle in it. The garment was stiff and hot, but professional, of course, and at the moment, that was the deal.

  Marge gave him a surprised glance as she appeared in the doorway with Anna, who wore a black, watered-silk tunic with black trousers. A white cashmere cape, black gloves, and a matching cloche hat added sophistication to her look. Since spending time at the Castle House, Brett had learned that Anna was a clotheshorse and loved dressing dramatically.