“Then I’ll help you in any way I can. What can you do?”
Cori seemed to look inward. “Clothing, hair, consumerism,” she said promptly.
“Fine. I’ll find you something tomorrow.” He returned to his meal.
“Thank you, but I can find my own job.”
“Not around here. Farrington is a small town and people tend to stick together. A reference from a local would be a good idea. You’re more than welcome to use the guest house rent free. Just remember you’re not in California. Salaries are a lot lower out here.”
Cori stared at him, still stunned by his more than generous offer.
“Maybe you’re more like Marcus Welby than I first thought.”
“That’s a new one for me.” Ben chuckled. “Now eat up. Passing out your first day on the job won’t look very good.”
When Ben later drove Cori back to the guest house and walked her to the door, she fully expected him to make a move. Take her hand. Put his arm around her shoulders. Try to kiss her. Ask to be invited inside for coffee. Instead, he didn’t move any farther than outside the front door as he pulled a key off his key ring and offered it to her with a warm smile before saying good night.
“There’s food in the refrigerator,” he told her. “Feel free to take whatever looks good. I’ll ask around and should have something for you by late tomorrow morning.”
“You still haven’t explained why you’re willing to do this for me,” Cori said in her own attempt to keep him there a moment longer.
Ben paused. He smiled the smile that sent waves of heat through her.
“Could be for a lot reasons. One, you obviously need some help to get your car up and running again. Two, you can’t seem to count on your dad right now. Or maybe it’s three.”
“And what’s three?” she whispered, mesmerized by the warmth reflected in his eyes. Oh, yes, they were definitely bedroom eyes.
His smile sent another jolt through her. “Three is, maybe it has to do with those pretty blue eyes that say a hell of a lot more than you probably intend for them to say,” he murmured before taking his leave with nothing more than a brief squeeze of her hand.
Cori stepped inside and stared at the lamp for several moments before she realized it needed to be switched on. Most of her luggage had been left in the living room while a few of her suitcases had been placed on the bed.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten in a restaurant like Myrna’s. If, indeed, she ever had. And tomorrow, with luck, she would be starting a job. She had no idea what she would even be doing! But that didn’t matter to her. Not when she realized this was her chance to prove herself to her father.
“I’ll show Dad I’m more than worthy of running that inn,” she muttered, carrying her cosmetics tote into the bathroom and pulling out a variety of jars. “Working at anything around here will be a snap.”
*
“THAT GIRL IS CAUSIN’ quite a stir over at Elliott’s,” a grizzled man wearing patched overalls and a faded red plaid cotton shirt informed Ben.
“What girl, Dan?” he asked absently as he studied the man’s blood pressure.
“The pretty little blonde who showed up yesterday in that danged foreign car,” Dan insisted. “The one you talked Elliott into hiring since Marcelle wanted a few weeks off to go up to see her niece in Sioux City. Elliott’s about ready to bust a gut. He says she’s ruining his business.”
Ben looked up. “All she’s doing over there is ringing up sales at the register and stocking shelves just the way Marcelle did. What’s so dangerous about that?”
“Why, she’s tellin’ people they don’t need to use any of those over-the-counter drugs Elliott sells,” Dan explained, trying to peer over the edge of the paper. He was always interested in what Ben wrote on his chart. Probably because he was convinced he didn’t have high blood pressure or heart problems—only that Ben wrote them down to make him think he did. “Reba Murphy went in to pick up some of those sleeping pills she takes when Larry is on one of his long hauls, and the little missy tells her she shouldn’t be putting stuff like that in her body. That she should be eating roots. Now you tell me, what person in their right mind would be wantin’ to eat roots?” He puffed up.
Ben shook his head, still unclear what Dan meant. Then it came to him. “Are you talking about valerian root?”
“Don’t know what kind of root, just that she’s supposed to be takin’ roots. That’s pure nuts.” The older man grumped. “Now what are you writin’ down there, boy? I don’t have to take those danged pills anymore, do I?”
“You most certainly do,” Ben replied. His mind raced with questions. What was Cori doing over there? When he talked to her this morning, he explained the job at the pharmacy was only a few hours a day, but it would help. He also tactfully suggested she wear something a little longer than the skirt she wore the day before. Although, he had to privately admit looking at her legs wasn’t that much of a hardship. He turned his attention back to his patient. “Of course, if you’d follow the diet I gave you and slowed down a little, you could have a chance of getting off the blood pressure medication, but as it stands, you’re still on them.”
“Your pa didn’t believe in all this modern medicine.”
“Yes, he did. He just said it differently.” Ben made a few notations in the chart. He opened his mouth, fully prepared to begin his monthly lecture on how Dan should slow down, when there was a knock at the door and Ella poked her head in.
“Elliott’s on the phone,” she told him. “He said you talk to him right now or else.”
Ben filled out a prescription slip and handed it to Dan. “You take these on schedule,” he instructed. “And no sneaking out to Isaac’s for some of his corn liquor.”
Dan took the slip. “Maybe I should talk to the girl about what roots I should eat,” he said slyly.
Ben held his gaze. “You want to travel the eighty miles to see Doc Jackson?”
The older man shuddered. “No way! The last time I saw him, he had me takin’ something that kept me close to home for three days.” He slowly got to his feet and shuffled out of the room. “Think I’ll go over to Elliott’s and get this filled now. So I don’t forget.”
Ben muttered a curse that would have earned him a mouthful of soap as he walked back to his office and picked up the phone. The moment he heard the agitation in the pharmacist’s voice, he knew there was trouble.
“You got her in here, you get her out,” the man ordered.
“What are you talking about, Elliott?” he asked, deciding to opt for innocence.
“That California girl,” the man blustered.
Ben shuffled the few message slips on his desk. “What has she done?”
“She’s losing me customers,” Elliott told him. “She’s out there telling everyone not to buy aspirin or cold medicine or whatever they’re in here for! I should have known she was dangerous.”
“How can one woman be dangerous?” he asked, mentally recalling that lush mouth he had wanted to kiss and skin he wanted to touch. Come to think of it, she was pretty dangerous—to his peace of mind!
“Simple. She’s from California, isn’t she? That’s where the hippies came from. And now she’s telling people about herbs. She’ll have them smoking funny stuff next! Get her out of here, Ben, before I throw her out.” He slammed the phone down.
Ben looked at his watch. “She was only there for two hours,” he mused aloud, shrugging off his lab coat.
As if on cue, Ella looked in. “You going down to Elliott’s?”
He nodded. “What have you heard?” Ella opened her mouth to inform him, but Ben held up a hand. “Don’t tell me. I’d rather not know.” He muttered another curse. “How can she create so much havoc in only two hours?”
Ella’s laughter was the last thing he heard.
Since the pharmacy was just down the street, Ben reached it in a few minutes. After what he’d already heard, seeing several people milling outside the door
wasn’t a surprise to him.
“Elliott thinks she’s one of those hippies who’s here to turn us all into druggies,” one silver-haired woman told Ben, clutching his arm.
“Now, Sarah, you know better,” he chided, patting her on the shoulder. “I will personally vouch for Cori.”
“Saw something like that in a movie once,” one of Dan’s checker-playing cronies intoned. “The government used a small town as a test. And we’d be the perfect town for somethin’ like that.”
“I saw somethin’ like that, too,” one of the women said, her eyes dilated with fear and eagerness to be involved. “Who knows what she’s really here for? Maybe she’s part of the mob and she’s hiding out from the godfather because she stole something of his or killed one of his dons. I saw something like that on TV just last week.”
Ben bit back a curse. The last thing he needed was a case of mass hysteria to deal with. He went into the pharmacy and noted the people milling around, unashamedly eavesdropping on the argument emanating from the back of the store.
“I am not a pusher!” Cori said hotly. “I am merely trying to give people alternatives to some of the drugs.”
Ben hurried his pace.
“Alternatives, my foot. You’re from L.A., aren’t you?” Elliott demanded. “That’s where all the druggies come from. For all we know, you’re planning to plant a marijuana field outside of town.”
“I suggest you read your newspaper more often than once every thirty years,” she argued. “You’d discover drug addicts live everywhere, even in small towns.”
“We don’t have any druggies here!” he shouted.
“I didn’t say you did!” Cori yelled back, placing her hands on her hips and pushing her face into his as she deliberately stepped forward into his space. “I merely said they live everywhere nowadays. You really should try to come into the twentieth century, Elliott. You might learn something!”
“I read the Enquirer just like everyone else,” he said huffily.
Cori rolled her eyes.
Ben noted the hectic flush coloring Elliott’s face and knew it was time to step in.
“All right, you two.” He deliberately walked between them. He turned to Elliott first. With his short, stubby legs, round belly and carrot-red hair sticking up from the times he had run his fingers through the strands, Elliott looked like an agitated rooster. Especially since his voice always turned into a squawk any time he got upset. Right now, he would have been a perfect alarm clock at dawn.
“The man has no idea the strides modern medicine has taken in the past fifty years,” Cori pronounced in a haughty voice. “Homeopathic medicines are widely recognized.”
“And where did you receive your pharmacology degree, missy?” Elliott demanded.
Ben turned to Cori. He held up his hand, forefinger raised to indicate he wanted silence. Ordinarily, she would have ignored him, except the expression on his face warned her that one word would bring his wrath down upon her.
“I’ll make this easy for all of us,” Ben said quietly with just enough menace in his voice to keep the combatants quiet. “Elliott, we’ve discussed homeopathic medicine before. You don’t believe in it. Fine, that’s your opinion.” He turned back to Cori. “Cori, you obviously do. Sometimes it is helpful, other times it’s not. Do yourself a favor—if someone doesn’t agree with your opinions, keep them to yourself.”
“Get her out of here.” The pharmacist looked at Cori as if she had sprouted horns and a tail.
Ben took Cori’s arm and ushered her down the aisle toward the door.
“Wait a minute!” She shook herself free and stalked back to Elliott with Ben rapidly on her heels. “You owe me for—” she looked up at the clock hanging over the pharmacy counter “—two hours and forty—seven minutes.” She held out her hand.
Elliott’s scowl would have flattened a lesser person. He walked over to the register, punched the No Sale button and pulled out some bills and a few coins. He slapped them in her hand and walked away.
Cori’s mouth dropped open as she scanned the meager lot. “Four dollars and twelve cents!”
Elliott spun around. “Taxes,” he said succinctly.
Ben grasped her arm in a firm hold and hustled her out of the building. By then, the small crowd outside the pharmacy had grown and he pushed his way past them.
“It’s all over, folks,” he informed them as he pulled Cori up the street.
“That is so unfair,” she muttered, jamming the money in her pocket. “The man has no concept of modern technology!”
Ben gritted his teeth, determined not to say a word until he was sure they were alone. At the moment, it was difficult not to throttle Cori. She went on incessantly, like a yapping dog. Didn’t she understand the meaning of “silence is golden”? His jaw muscles flexed.
He jerked on the cottage’s front doorknob, swore when he found it locked and turned to Cori. She met his blazing scrutiny with unflinching calm.
“I know. Out here, you don’t bother locking doors.” She pulled the key out of her pocket. Before she could step forward to fit it in the lock, he took it out of her hand, opened the door and pushed her none too gently inside.
“How do you do it?” he demanded, pacing the length of the room. “Within the space of a couple hours, you turned one of the calmest, sanest men into a raving lunatic. Is it a gift?”
“Me?” Cori was affronted at the blame being placed on her. “I was told I was hired to help out.”
“Help, not create a war!” He stopped short and took several breaths to calm a pulse he could tell was racing. “All you had to do was familiarize yourself with the merchandise and ring up purchases.”
“This sweet old lady came in to complain the sleeping pills she had been taking weren’t working. I suggested a more natural method of dealing with her problem,” she explained. “What was so wrong with that?”
What could he say to that?
“Nothing.” He closed his eyes and pinched his nose.
“Do you have a headache?” she ventured.
“Only in the past ten seconds,” he muttered.
“Sometimes headaches are due to restricted blood flow to the brain. A neck massage would work wonders for that.” She stepped toward him with her hands raised.
“No!” Realizing how panicked he sounded, he quickly lowered his voice. “No thanks, I’ll be fine in a minute.” He took several deep breaths to calm himself. “All right, I’ll make a few more calls and come up with something else for you. But—” he held up a warning hand “—no more talk of herbal therapy.”
Cori bobbed her head up and down.
He took that for a yes and headed for the door.
“Ben.”
He looked over his shoulder.
“I am willing to work,” Cori said softly. Her deep blue eyes were dark with sincerity. “I didn’t know he’d get so angry.”
“I suggest you stay out of there for a while.”
As Ben walked back to the clinic and what he was certain would be an influx of questions from Ella, he realized something else hammered at his brain.
All the time he wanted to put his hands around Cori’s neck and squeeze, he also wanted to cover her luscious mouth with his own and see what she tasted like. Trouble was, once he started he knew he wouldn’t stop there, because he also wanted to see if her skin was silky all over. And after that, anything was possible.
By the time he reached the clinic, he found himself aroused. He stopped at the door and willed himself back to normal.
“I’ve always been a sucker for blue-eyed blondes,” he muttered, pulling on the doorknob.
Chapter Three
Regina’s Cut ‘n’ Curl
“Honey, that is the most gorgeous head of hair I’ve seen in a long time.” Regina, owner of Regina’s Cut ‘n’ Curl, lifted a lock of Cori’s hair and examined it with the eye of one who has been in the beauty business for the past twenty-seven years. “What color did they use on you?”
/> “No color,” Cori replied. “Just a weave every three months for added highlights. Tommy, who’s done my hair for the past four years, is a genius.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste against the strong odor of permanent-wave solution. She felt a little queasy from the smell and took shallow breaths through her mouth. She only hoped she would get used to the smell fast.
Regina eyed her closely. “Doc says you know hair.”
Cori nodded briskly. “Oh, yes.” After all the years she’d had her hair done, she couldn’t imagine it would be all that difficult to do. Cut a bit, mix colors, shampoo; it would be a snap. “I learned everything I know from Tommy.”
“He in L.A.?”
She shook her head. “Actually, he’s in Paris. He has a second salon in London, but he prefers to work in Paris.”
“Paris, France?” Lorraine Bradley’s eyes popped open to the size of saucers. “You actually go to Paris to have your hair done?” Her bright apricot-colored hair was neatly wrapped around small pink rollers. The moment Cori had stepped inside the shop, her head popped out from under the dryer. Listening to the newcomer was infinitely more interesting than listening to Velma Perkins talk about her gall bladder surgery. After all, gall bladder surgery was nothing compared to her own health problems.
“You know how it is when you find a good hairdresser. You go where they go.” Cori flashed a warm smile.
“Honey, before you do a thing, I want to see how your hair is cut.” Regina pushed her into a chair and seemed to examine every strand of hair before letting Cori back up. “I can’t believe it. How did he get this?”
“He uses very tiny scissors. He feels he can control his cuts better that way.” Cori figured if they wanted to ask her questions, she’d ask a few of her own. “You have a very nice town here.”
“We think so.” Regina’s beak of a nose was almost buried in Cori’s hair.
“You know, when Jess first mentioned your doctor, I thought he would be someone like Marcus Welby. You know, that old doctor on TV?”
“That was a wonderful show!” Janet Stiller, one of the other hairdressers, chimed in. “Did you see the one he did on a woman suffering from menopause? I swear, he could have been talking about me!”
Mommy Heiress (Accidental Dads #2) Page 4