The Harvest

by Gail Gaymer Martin

  Nick could spend the next ten years explaining to Larry that it wasn’t much fun dating women like Alicia, who’d already decided she loved him before she knew him, or Melanie, who’d started talking about rings after the third date. But Larry would never understand. Although Larry was a good guy, women never seemed to find him attractive.

  “What can I say?” Nick shrugged. “I’m in the mood for something different. And it sounds like this woman, this Grace, is desperate.”

  “Not desperate enough to take you.”

  Nick thought he might have heard Larry wrong. But the hint of satisfaction in Larry’s eyes told Nick, he’d gotten it right. “What do you mean by that?”

  “She told me she doesn’t like you,” Larry said.

  Nick raised a brow and briefly considered the thought. “That’s because she doesn’t know me.”

  Larry laughed. “I bet she says no.”

  “She’ll agree,” Nick said with a confident smile.

  “Maybe so,” Larry said after a long moment. “But ten bucks says you won’t get so much as a single kiss from her this weekend.”

  Nick shook his head. Larry still didn’t get it.

  He wasn’t looking for kisses.

  All he wanted was a nice weekend with some turkey and pumpkin pie.

  Nothing more.

  “Do you have a minute?”

  Grace Comstock’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of the deep voice. She’d often thought that with such a smooth, rich baritone, Nick Tucci could have had a successful career in radio. She raised her gaze from the evening’s schedule and amended her thoughts. Sticking such a man behind a microphone would have been a waste. “Dr. Nick”—as the children who visited the clinic called him—was too handsome not to be seen. Even now, with lines of fatigue edging his eyes and the five o’clock stubble darkening his cheeks, the sight of him made her pulse quicken.

  Dressed casually in a gray sweater that accented his broad shoulders and navy pants that emphasized his lean hips, Nick looked more like a GQ model than a pediatric orthopedic surgeon. It was easy to see why he’d been named one of St. Louis’s top ten most eligible bachelors.

  Though Grace acknowledged his good looks, she wasn’t impressed. She didn’t like handsome men. It had been her experience that attractive men tended to be arrogant and proud instead of praising God for the blessing of physical beauty. From what she’d seen of Nick Tucci, he fit the mold.

  “What can I do for you, Doctor?” Grace used her most professional voice.

  He shot her a smile and the dimple in his cheek flashed. “You can start by calling me Nick.”

  “O-kay.” Despite her resolve to keep him at arm’s length, she found herself wanting to smile back. Instead she lifted a brow. “What can I do for you, Nick?”

  Nick hesitated, and for a moment a hint of uncertainty crept in his gaze. But then the dimple flashed in his cheek once again and he gestured to the chair next to her desk. “Mind if I sit?”

  “Of course not.” Grace grabbed the pile of charts off the seat and set them on top of the stack on her desk. “Have a seat.”

  This time she made her tone more approachable. After all, part of her job as director of the free clinic was to keep the physician volunteers happy. It wasn’t always easy to find doctors willing to lengthen their already-overextended workday by several hours. Specialists were especially hard to find. Most tried it a couple of times and never came back. But Dr. Nick had been volunteering once a month at the specialty clinic for almost a year.

  Though Grace had been the clinic director for the entire time, she couldn’t say she really knew him. Unlike Larry Fowler and some of the other doctors who’d hang around after clinic hours to talk, Nick Tucci always arrived right before his shift began and left immediately after seeing the last patient.

  Once, when he’d raced by her yet again without even a hello, she casually mentioned his aloofness to Larry. Of course, Larry stood up for his colleague, mumbling something about Nick hating to keep patients waiting. Grace didn’t buy that phony excuse for a minute. She knew if she looked like Cindy Crawford, he’d have found time to stop and talk. But a skinny redheaded thirty-year-old didn’t rate a second glance.

  “Busy evening,” he said conversationally, his broad hands folded loosely in his lap.

  Grace nodded. Every appointment slot had been filled this evening and most had been double-booked to cover the no-shows. Unfortunately every patient had shown up, which meant the staff were all getting out a lot later than usual.

  Though Nick had never complained about working late before, she’d overheard him tell one of the nurses he’d been in surgery all morning. Her blood ran cold.

  What if he wants to quit? What if that was why he’d stopped to talk?

  “I’m sorry about the patient volume, but there’s so much need in this neighborhood.” Grace leaned forward, fear making the words tumble out one after the other. “You’re doing a great job. And we appreciate it. I don’t ever want you to think we take you for granted.”

  He sat back in his chair and stared at her for a long moment. Grace realized for the first time that his eyes weren’t hazel as she’d thought, but a mesmerizing blue-green color with flecks of gold. Feeling the need for some air, Grace took a deep breath and inhaled the spicy scent of his cologne.

  “…giving back.”

  Grace widened her eyes and realized that while she’d been staring at him, he’d been talking. Heat rose up her neck and she mentally kicked herself. No wonder handsome guys were arrogant, with women like her hanging on their every word. Or in her case, too busy gawking to hear anything at all. It was almost laughable. She, who’d always insisted she didn’t like handsome men, was acting like a hormone-charged sixteen-year-old. Her lips twitched.

  “You find that amusing?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I mean no.”

  Grace groaned to herself. Could she come across as any more of a blithering idiot than she did at this very moment? It hardly seemed possible. She brushed a piece of hair back from her face and tried to regain her composure.

  Grace forced the disturbing images from her thoughts.

  “I hear you’re looking for a boyfriend.”

  She tilted her head, sure she’d misunderstood. “What did you say?”

  “Larry told me you need a date for Thanksgiving weekend,” he said. “Is that true?”

  By now Grace’s head was spinning. The doctor’s ability to change the subject had her totally perplexed. “That’s right. What about it?”

  “Have you found anyone yet?”

  She shook her head. Last month when she’d decided to bite the bullet and go home for the holiday, she’d started looking for a date. At the time she didn’t think she’d have any trouble finding someone. After all, she had a lot of guy friends and she didn’t care who came with her.

  Unfortunately, one by one, the men she’d had in mind turned her down. Oh, they’d all had good reasons, but the fact was she was stuck. She’d told her family she’d be bringing her new boyfriend. How could she say she was coming alone? Again.

  Turning thirty was bad enough. But to show up all by herself when her little sister, Holly, would be there with her husband and new baby? No way.

  Grace knew she was being silly and immature. She had so many things to be grateful for: good health, good friends and a rewarding job. Not having a boyfriend was such a minor thing in the grand scheme of life. So many people had so much less. She saw it at her job every day.

  But still, all she’d ever wanted was to be a wife and mother. And she couldn’t understand how her sister had ended up with her dream life. It was as if God had gotten the two sisters’ prayers mixed up. Holly had been determined to have a career. But she’d fallen in love while she was still in college and married shortly after graduation. Anna had been born on Holly’s fifth wedding anniversary.

  Grace, meanwhile, had a career, but no husband or family. And last month she’d hit the big three-oh with no
Mr. Right in sight.

  “Grace?”

  Once again the deep voice beckoned her back to the present.

  “I apologize,” she said, rapidly collecting her thoughts. “Where were we?”

  “I asked if you’d found someone to go home with you for Thanksgiving,” he said with an indulgent smile. “You said you hadn’t.”

  Grace raised a brow.

  “The point is, I’ve found someone to go with you,” he said.

  Grace tried to still her excitement. Thanksgiving was only two days away and she’d almost given up hope. Grace leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. “Who is he?”

  “Me.” Nick sat back and smiled. “I’ll go with you.”

  Grace’s cheeks burned like she’d just been slapped. Hard. She tried to stem her embarrassment, but when she spoke, humiliation made her voice harsh and tight. “What kind of game are you playing? Did Larry put you up to this?”

  Nick met her gaze with a puzzled look. “I’m not playing any game.”

  “You want to go with me?” Grace shook her head. “I don’t get it.”

  “It’s true,” Nick said lightly. “I’m at loose ends this weekend, and getting away from it all sounds like just what the doctor ordered.”

  Grace stared, wondering what kind of bet he had with Larry. She could just imagine the two laughing their heads off in the back room, thinking she’d be stupid enough to snap up the bogus offer.

  She pressed her lips together to still the trembling. She’d never had someone play such a cruel trick on her before.

  Nick’s smile faded. He pushed back the chair and slowly rose to his feet, staring at her for a long moment. “If you don’t want me to go with you, just say so.”

  He met her gaze head-on and his tone was so sincere Grace wondered if she’d been mistaken. After all, though he’d been aloof, she’d never known him to be mean. She took a chance and offered him a tiny smile. “It’s not that. It’s just it’s hard for me to understand why you would give up your Thanksgiving to come to Iowa with me.”

  “My sister is playing matchmaker again,” he said, resuming his seat. “I’m not in the mood. It’s been a hectic couple of months and I just want to relax. Eat some turkey, have some pie…” He stopped suddenly and frowned. “Your parents aren’t vegetarian, are they?”

  Grace had to laugh. Vegetarian? Her father wouldn’t allow tofu in the house, and the only kind of beans he liked were baked with lots of bacon fat. “They’re Iowa farmers. Real meat-and-potatoes kind of people.”

  “Meat and potatoes are good.” Nick nodded approvingly. “What about pie?”

  “Pumpkin, mince, pecan and cherry.” Grace counted them off on her fingers. “With real whipped cream, of course.”

  “I love whipped cream,” Nick said in a deliciously deep voice.

  “I do, too.” Grace returned his smile. And as she was pulled into the azure depths of his eyes, Grace realized she was about to do something incredibly stupid.

  She was going to accept Nick Tucci’s offer.

  Chapter Two

  The farmyard was filled with cars but Nick was able to find a spot for his Land Rover just east of the barn. Grace waited for Nick to open her car door. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that the handsome Dr. Tucci was a rarity in today’s modern world, a true gentleman. He’d insisted on carrying her overnight bag to the car and on opening the door. Though Grace could have easily handled either task, she had to admit she liked the pampering.

  As they walked toward the house Grace slanted him a sideways glance. How a guy could look so good in a sweatshirt and blue jeans boggled her mind. The jeans were nothing special but the way they hugged his muscular legs did crazy things to Grace’s pulse.

  Of course she blamed her reaction on the fact that she’d rarely seen him in anything other than dress pants and a white lab coat. When he’d asked her what he should wear, she’d hesitated for a second before telling him honestly that holidays in the Comstock family were extremely casual and that most of the men would probably be wearing jeans and sweatshirts.

  To his credit, he didn’t act surprised but merely smiled and said something about it sounding good. She knew he was just being polite. His family was quite prominent in the St. Louis social scene and Grace had no doubt that Thanksgiving dinner in the Tucci household would include china, crystal and candlelight. Why, she wouldn’t be surprised if they wore ties to the table.

  Dear God, why did I ever think this would work?

  “Looks like your dad farms quite a few acres.” Nick’s pleasant voice brought her back to the present.

  “How’d you guess?” Grace hated talking farming but her stomach was a mass of nerves and she hoped some light conversation might have a settling effect.

  Nick gestured with his head toward several large storage silos. “Those were my first clue.”

  His smile was so warm and friendly that Grace couldn’t help but return it. And for a fleeting moment she forgot to worry about how she was going to make it through the weekend. Unfortunately, the minute she set foot on the front porch and heard the buzz of conversation from inside the house, her neck tightened into a thousand knots. “This was a mistake.”

  “Just relax.” He treated her to a flash of dimples. “These are your family members. If anyone should be nervous, it should be me.”

  Shame filled her. He was doing her a favor and all she’d been able to think about was herself. She hadn’t for a moment considered that Nick might have some qualms about the weekend.

  “Are you?” she asked. “Nervous, I mean?”

  Nick shrugged. “Not really. I’ve played the boyfriend role enough in real life to have it down pat. I can do the devoted act in my sleep.”

  Though Grace smiled, his words were clearly a warning, one she’d better heed. It would be so easy to get caught up in this charade and forget it was just a game. She had to remember that men like Nick Tucci only fell for the girl-next-door plain-Jane type in the movies, not in real life.

  She reached for the screen door, but Nick beat her to it. “Allow me.”

  A moment later, Grace stood in the doorway to the home that had been in her family since the early 1900s and inhaled the atmosphere. The grandfather clock her father had built stood in one corner. The lace doilies her mother had tatted one summer graced the antique side table. Everything was so familiar. An overwhelming urge to call it all off nipped at her tightly held control.

  How many times had she imagined bringing home a handsome man to meet her parents? How many times had she prayed that God would send her a man she could love and respect? How many times had she told herself to be patient and remember that things happen in God’s time?

  So what was she doing stooping to a childish game of Let’s Pretend? Though Nick had already brought their bags inside and set them down in a corner of the foyer, Grace was seized with a sudden urge to flee.

  As if Nick could read her mind, he reached up and rested his hand gently on her neck, rubbing it with slow circular motions. The mere touch of his fingers forced all rational thoughts from her head.

  “Relax.” His voice was as low and soothing as his fingers. “We can pull this off.”

  We.

  Grace released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and reminded herself she wasn’t in this alone. For whatever reason, Nick had consented to be a part of this charade.

  Propelled by emotions she couldn’t begin to identify, Grace turned toward the man and lifted her face to his.

  The appreciation in his eyes took her by surprise and she took a stumbling step backward. She would have fallen if he hadn’t grasped her arm, offering her a steadying hand.

  “Gracie.”

  Grace’s heart stilled.

  Nosy Nellie had spotted them.

  Grace forced a smile to her face and gave a casual wave even as her heart sank. She’d known she’d have to face her aunt sometime this weekend, but she hadn’t planned to be torpedoed the minute
she and Nick walked through the door of the family farmhouse.

  Grace knew it was ridiculous, the way her stomach twisted in knots over a middle-aged woman in a purple jogging suit.

  But this wasn’t just any woman. Her mother’s sister had been meddling in Grace’s life since she’d had the unfortunate luck to be born with her aunt’s coppery red hair. According to her mother, Nellie had wept with joy, declaring God had blessed her with a child after all.

  Grace thought her mother should have put a stop to such nonsense from the beginning. But the two sisters were close and her mother turned a blind eye to Nellie’s domineering ways. To be honest, Grace had enjoyed having two “mothers” when she was very young. But by the time she’d reached her teens, her aunt had become an interfering thorn in her side.

  Grace had quickly learned it did no good to complain. Her parents had quoted Leviticus 19:32 so much, the verse was permanently imprinted in her brain.

  She should have warned Nick about Nellie. But what could she say? My aunt looks sweet but she can be a pit bull when she’s riled? No, it was best he find out for himself. Maybe Nellie would be on her good behavior this weekend. And then again, maybe pigs would fly.

  Grace grabbed his arm and tried to divert Nick toward the kitchen, but she was too late. He’d caught sight of Nellie weaving unsteadily as she made her way toward them and had stepped forward to help.

  Nellie’s shakiness was highly suspicious. Though hampered by a recent knee surgery, when Grace had first walked through the door, she’d seen Nellie maneuvering through the crowded living room with a quickness and dexterity that Michael Jordan would have envied. But all of a sudden, she could barely stand?

  Nick reached out and her aunt clung to his arm, like he was a life preserver and she was about to go under for the last time.

  “Nick, she’s fine,” Grace said. “Really.”

  But Nick ignored her and kept hold of Nellie’s arm. “Are you okay, ma’am?”