Ben resisted smiling. He knew his nurse’s idea of the big city came from the movies she watched via her satellite dish. But Ella meant well. Nowhere could he find a woman with a bigger heart. And as a nurse, she was worth her weight in pure gold. She had worked for his father until his death, and when Ben returned home to take over the practice, she showed up the day he reopened the clinic. Not once did she ever say something should continue being done a certain way because his father had always done it that way. And when he talked about expanding the clinic in hopes of starting a small hospital, she told him she’d make sure any additional nurses were properly trained.
He shook his head. “No, I think she’s all right. In fact, maybe we’re the best thing that’s come her way. It’s obvious she’s rich and spoiled. Maybe she just needs to learn about the real world.”
Ella clucked under her tongue. “Now you sound like your father. He never believed anyone was bad, either. Mark my words, that girl is trouble with a capital T.“ She started to walk away. “Are you taking off Ricky’s cast or shall I? He’s figurin’ on gettin’ in that softball game later today.”
“And probably break his other arm this time. Wait till he hears getting it off doesn’t mean he can go out and pitch today.” With one last look at the tiny cottage’s closed front door, he walked back inside with Ella and closed the clinic’s rear door.
*
CORI DROPPED HER PURSE and cap on a chair and proceeded to study her surroundings. The room may have been small, but it had a cozy feeling with a blue floral love seat and easy chair that looked out the multipaned window. She examined the crocheted doilies topping the chair arms and the pictures decorating one of the walls. None of the artwork could be considered valuable, but the country scenes fit the room perfectly.
She wandered on to poke through the other rooms. She inspected the tiny kitchen that didn’t invite serious cooking; good thing, since she could barely boil water. The bathroom boasted fluffy rose and blue towels, a lovely deep old-fashioned claw-foot tub next to a modern frosted-glass shower cubicle. In the bedroom, the bed was covered with what looked like a handmade quilt. She admired the old-fashioned design, then tested the mattress and flopped down on it. She barely bounced as she stretched out on top of the covers.
Cori couldn’t figure out why she felt so tired when it was barely the middle of the day. Usually her energy level was high from the moment she woke up until she dropped into bed in the wee hours. Lately, though, weariness seemed to be the order of the day. After that fainting spell, she only hoped she wasn’t coming down with something.
“Even if this town does have a more than adequate doctor,” she said throatily, kicking one leg upward.
She closed her eyes, but couldn’t find any solace there. Not with the image of the good doctor imprinted in her mind.
“One thing for sure,” she murmured just as she slipped into a deep sleep, “Dr. Marcus Welby, he’s not.”
Chapter Two
Farrington Pharmacy and Gifts
Ben tried posting strict hours when he first reopened the clinic. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that emergencies didn’t take business hours into consideration. Which was why he was still working at eight o’clock. Thankfully, Ella called home, told her husband to eat without her and stayed to help when Lorna Reeves showed up. There was no question the pregnant woman was in labor.
“You shouldn’t have been driving. Why didn’t you have Ray bring you in?” he chided as he and Ella helped her into an examination room. “Or call me?”
“It was easier to just come in,” she panted, allowing doctor and nurse to assist her onto the table. “Ray’s cellular phone must be dead ‘cause I couldn’t reach him and, no offense, but I wasn’t going to wait out there until you showed up.”
“You just start your breathing exercises, darlin’,” Ella advised, helping the young woman out of her dress. “I’ll have my Henry try to get ahold of Ray for you. Meanwhile, we’re going to bring that baby into the world.”
“You won’t get any argument from me on that.” She gasped as another contraction hit.
Much later, Ben had to smile as a stunned young husband raced into the clinic just in time to greet his new daughter. Ben didn’t argue when Ella insisted she’d take care of things and for him to get himself something to eat.
While the idea of a hot meal sounded appealing, Ben thought of his unexpected guest first. Even though the gas station closed promptly at six, he wouldn’t have any problem retrieving Cori’s things. Not when Jess lived in a trailer behind the garage and was even known to work late on a truck or car if the owner needed it right away. Sure enough, he found the young mechanic bent over the front of Isaac’s ancient truck.
“Why don’t you just tell old Isaac he needs a new truck?” Ben called out.
“Hey, Doc.” Jess straightened up. He grabbed a rag and wiped his hands. “Nah, if I did that, I wouldn’t have a steady customer.” He grinned. “I heard Miss Peyton is out in your guest house. She okay?”
He nodded, not surprised the town grapevine had already targeted Cori’s destination. Secrets weren’t allowed in Farrington. “Just overtired, I think. I thought I’d come by to pick up her things from her car.”
“No problem.” Jess led the way toward the rear of the garage and out a back door. “I put a cover on her car to protect it.” He folded the tarp back and lovingly caressed the rear fender. “I asked one of the guys in Wichita about these cars. He said you take care of them the way you’d take care of a baby.” He looked at the sports car as if it were a beautiful woman. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
“That she is.” Belatedly, Ben realized Jess meant the car, not the woman. He watched Jess open the trunk, then stepped back and whistled. “Will you look at that?”
Ben peered into the interior. “I never knew a person could cram so much luggage into one trunk,” he muttered.
“Then take a look in the back seat. There’s even more there.” Jess chuckled. “Maybe you better drive your truck around back here. It would be easier to load up that way. ‘Course, if she’s only stayin’ the night, she might need only one suitcase, although I don’t know which one you should take.”
Ben looked at the designer-insigniaed suitcases and tote bag. “I better take them all.”
Jess helped him unload the car and settle the bags in the back of Ben’s truck.
“You tell Miss Peyton I’ll keep her car safe until she can get it fixed,” he told Ben.
Ben smiled. He wondered if Cori would realize that in L.A. she wouldn’t be this lucky with a mechanic. Jess, as good as his word, would keep her car covered and safe until it could be repaired.
“I’ll tell her. Thanks.” He climbed inside his truck.
“Oh! I saw Ray speeding past a while ago. What’d Lorna have?”
“A girl.”
Jess whooped. “He’ll be gray with worry by the time she’s sixteen!”
Ben waved as he drove off.
His first thought when he pulled up in front of the cottage was that she had taken off, since the building was dark. Except he knew she had no transportation and doubted she had braved Myrna’s again so soon. He grabbed one of the smaller cases that he had set next to him and climbed out of the truck. He walked inside and switched on a lamp near the door.
“Cori?” he called out softly. It didn’t take him long to find her stretched out on the bed, sound asleep.
The lamplight from the living room shone softly through the doorway and highlighted her form with its golden glow. She lay on her side, one hand curved under her face while the other curled across her waist.
Ben sat carefully on the side of the bed.
His doctor’s mind told him she was about five feet six inches, short golden blond hair, blue eyes and had a slender build. Other than her too-thin state, she appeared very healthy—obviously had the best of health care, and teeth that were a dentist’s dream. Her hair had been pampered by experts, her nails shaped and polis
hed a pale rose and her skin golden from the sun. But an analytical mind couldn’t describe the way her hair seemed to glow like a rare sun, how her eyes were such a rich navy blue they didn’t appear real and why her skin was like silk to the touch.
“Cori,” he spoke softly, gently shaking her shoulder. Her bare skin was warm to the touch and had him thinking about touching more than just her shoulder. “Hey, sleeping beauty, time to return to the present.”
She rolled onto her back, murmuring a protest at being awakened. She opened her eyes and blinked several times. Her expression was confused as she looked around, obviously trying to figure out where she was. Her eyes widened when she looked up at Ben.
“Oh, it’s you. Not a bad dream, after all.” She sat up, brushing her hair from her face. “What time is it?”
Ben was impressed with her lack of vanity at being caught at a vulnerable time. Her hair was mussed from her nap and her make-up slightly smudged, but she didn’t seem to notice or care. And here he thought she was lovely before. But now, looking sleep tousled, she seemed even lovelier.
“Eight-thirty,” he replied. “Are you hungry?”
“What is this obsession you have with food?” she grumbled, not so carefully pushing him to one side so she could swing her legs over the edge of the bed.
“I didn’t have any dinner and I bet you didn’t, either. Myrna’s will be open for another half hour.” He stood and held out his hand.
Cori allowed him to pull her to her feet. “Sure, the condemned ate a hearty last meal,” she muttered.
Ben grinned. Obviously, she wasn’t one of those who woke up perky and cheerful. A disgruntled Cori was a sight to see.
“Let me make sure I don’t look like a total mess.” Cori pushed her hair away from her face, picked up her purse and went into the bathroom.
“I brought over your suitcases,” Ben called out to the closed door. “You must think you’re going to need something if you have to travel with your entire wardrobe.”
“Oh, that’s just some things I threw together for my trip to England,” she said, coming out of the bathroom. Her hair was brushed and a rose gloss colored her lips.
“You know most people find it’s easier to fly to England than drive.”
Cori shot him a droll look. “Ha, ha.” She headed for the front door, confident he would follow.
Ben watched the gentle sway of her hips, the way her denim skirt hugged her rear, and decided following her was the best place to be.
“What kind of doctor are you?” Cori asked once he had her settled in the cab of his truck after tossing his medical bag behind them along with a small box of other medical supplies.
“General practioner.”
“No GP does all this. Maybe I should warn you that I may not be able to pay your bill,” she told him. “Although I can’t imagine he would cancel my medical insurance.”
“Who said anything about charging you?” Ben said cheerfully, switching on the ignition. “It’s not often we get a California girl in town.”
Cori studied her surroundings as Ben drove down the main street. All the stores were closed except for the restaurant where lights were still blazing.
“They stay open late on Thursdays because the city council meets tonight and they like to stop by here for pie and coffee afterward,” he explained, parking the truck in front of the restaurant, getting out and walking around to help her down.
“Hi there, Doc,” a man who looked more like a grizzly bear than a human being called out from the rear of the restaurant. “Hey, darlin’, you feelin’ better? Heard you took a dive out at Cal’s.”
“Is there anyone who doesn’t know?” Cori muttered under her breath as she kept a smile firmly pasted on her lips.
“Mrs. Tweedy,” Ben said promptly. “She’s out of town visiting her sister.”
“I’m fine, thank you,” Cori told the man. She guessed by his food-spattered apron he was the cook. And by the variety of tattoos adorning his arms, he had done quite a bit of traveling.
“Cori, this is Ralph, owner and cook for Myrna’s,” Ben introduced. “Ralph, meet Cori Peyton, who’s still not too sure about us, so be nice.”
“Hell, I’m always nice,” the man growled. “Take one of the rear booths. Council meeting won’t be over for another half hour or so. Fred’s bitchin’ about that new bond issue and you know how long-winded he is when he’s got a bee in his britches. How about the stew?”
“Make it two,” Ben replied, guiding Cori to a booth.
“Maybe I’d prefer something else,” Cori whispered.
“Maybe I’d prefer you eat something substantial instead of passing out again,” he whispered back, waiting until she slid into the booth. “What do you want to drink?”
“Diet Coke.”
He nodded and walked over to the machine, expertly pouring two drinks and bringing them back to the table. Instead of taking the seat across from Cori, he slid in next to her, his denim-covered thigh brushing against her bare one.
Cori looked pointedly from where he sat to the empty seat across from them.
“Is there something wrong with the seat across from us?”
“Not a thing.” He handed her a straw along with her glass. “You’ll like Ralph’s stew. He throws just about everything in it but the kitchen sink. He serves it with homemade rolls that are better than my mom’s, although you’ll never hear me say that around her. Not if I want to keep my butt in one piece.”
His grin sent a shaft of heat straight to Cori’s middle. In an effort to defuse the attraction she felt, she quickly unwrapped her straw and dunked it in her drink.
She was grateful for Ralph’s interruption when he brought over two shallow bowls filled with stew and a basket filled with warm rolls emanating a warm yeasty aroma. She mentally counted the calories as she stared at the bowl’s contents: chunks of beef, potatoes and carrots swimming in a rich brown gravy.
“Don’t you ever think about your patients’ health if you encourage them to eat like this all the time?” she mumbled. “I hate to think of the fat content in this meal.”
“I only worry if they have dietary problems, but I don’t see that too often around here.” He dipped his spoon into the stew. “I have an eighty-year-old patient who’s drunk a pint of corn whiskey every day for the past sixty-five years and smoked since he was twelve. He has the heart and lungs of a teenager. According to his medical history, his weight hasn’t varied more than three pounds over the years, yet fried chicken is one of his favorite meals. At the same time, I have another patient who claims she can eat a peanut and gain ten pounds. I think the fudge surrounding said peanut has something to do with that claim.”
Cori shook her head. One mouthful of stew tempted her taste buds so much she dug in hungrily. She hadn’t been all that hungry for the past few days, so she knew she shouldn’t be surprised by the return of her appetite.
“So tell me, Cori Peyton, what do you intend to do now?”
She swallowed the bite of butter-drenched roll she had taken and half turned to face him.
“Do as to what?”
“Your car, your dad canceling your charge cards. That. Jess figured out what was going on after Dan and Zeke told him about your phone call to your dad.”
She grimaced. “Is there no privacy around here?”
“Not really.”
Cori muttered a curse regarding Ben’s cheerful manner. “Then let me give you the whole story. I’d hate people to get it wrong since I have a pretty good idea it will be all over town by tomorrow morning.” She set her spoon down. “I was discussing a business proposition with father. He didn’t like it and basically said his only daughter was nothing more than a mindless flake. I got angry and took off. The clothes in the car were meant for my trip to England.”
“But you didn’t go to England,” he prompted.
She grimaced. “I guess you could say I strayed off course. I got in my car and just drove. Pretty soon, it was easier to keep
on driving. Before I knew it, I was here and my car refused to go any farther.”
“You know, there’re easier ways of handling a situation than going to England.”
“I wasn’t going there for fun. I had a chance to buy a country manor over there at a steal of a price.”
“What do you consider a steal?” He whistled under his breath when she told him. “That’s what you consider a steal?”
“Of course! The house has been family owned for centuries, but they can’t keep up the taxes and wish to sell it.” Her face lit up with animation. “It’s in a wonderful location outside of London. Tourists travel that route on a regular basis. Admittedly, there are repairs that will have to be done and landscaping and such, but it should pay for itself within a year.”
Ben nodded. “So you’ve worked in the hotel industry?”
“Well, no,” she admitted, uneasy with the direction he was taking.
“A bed and breakfast?”
She shook her head.
“A cheap motel?”
“What does that have to do with it?” Cori demanded.
“A lot. How can you know the place will pay for itself if you’ve never worked in the hotel industry?” he said with more logic than she wanted to hear. “Do you have a business degree?”
She shifted uncomfortably. “Actually, I majored in fine arts and I’ve taken some business courses. There is nothing wrong with fine arts!” she said hotly in her own defense.
“Nothing whatsoever. So tell me, since it’s obvious you’re not getting your bed and breakfast and you don’t have the money to get your car fixed or get yourself out of town, what do you expect to do?”
Cori opened her mouth, fully prepared to inform Ben she wasn’t at all worried. Except that would be a major lie. She lifted her chin.
“I’ll find a job.”
Ben was grateful he hadn’t taken a bite just then. He probably would have choked. Looking at Cori Peyton he would hazard a guess she hadn’t worked a day in her life. But he knew he could be wrong. Still, this could prove interesting. And the chance of keeping the lady in town for a while was tempting.
Mommy Heiress (Accidental Dads #2) Page 3