Mommy Heiress (Accidental Dads #2)

by Linda Randall Wisdom

  “I just meant I expected someone older than Dr. Cooper,” Cori quickly inserted.

  “He took over when his dad died four years ago,” Regina explained. “Why, as long as I can remember we’ve had a Dr. Cooper in town. Before his dad, his grandpa was the town doc. Ben’s dad treated everyone until he was called into the service. He served in the South Pacific,” she said proudly. “My Fred wouldn’t be alive today if it hadn’t been for Doc Cooper keeping soldiers alive.”

  “Oh, he served with Dr. Cooper’s father?”

  “No, darlin’, he saved Fred’s daddy’s life.” She laughed. “If he hadn’t, Fred wouldn’t even have been a twinkle in his momma’s eye. Ben’s daddy served overseas, too. Came home with an Eyetalian wife. Folks weren’t too sure about that, but Lucia is such a darlin’ woman people soon fell in love with her.”

  Cori nodded. That explained the slight olive cast to Ben’s skin and dark hair and eyes. Not to mention that aura of pure sex the man exuded.

  “Ben’s the youngest of eight and the only one who wanted to be a doctor,” Regina went on.

  Cori’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets. “Eight?”

  Regina nodded. “They sure loved having kids. Some say they had so many ‘cause they didn’t get a boy until they had Ben.”

  “Not to mention loving what it took to have all those kids.” One of the women snickered.

  For the next hour, as Regina instructed Cori in her duties, the younger woman also had another kind of education. At first, she thought women living in the Midwest would be a bit straitlaced. She soon found differently. Husbands’ sexual habits, friends’ and relatives’ surgeries in graphic detail and gossip about anyone who wasn’t present in the shop that morning—all were fair game. Nothing was said maliciously, but she was positive she picked up more information about the town’s inhabitants than she would ever need to know—or want to. Except for one inhabitant, whom she quickly learned was a main source of gossip with the ladies. Ben Cooper’s life and work were discussed freely. Ben’s work: Never a better or caring doctor, they said. His family: His sister, Carla, married a stockbroker and lived in Chicago, where she was a member of a large architecture firm. Sister Maria moved to Italy to live with their mother’s family for a year and study painting over there. Another married a local farmer. What the Coopers were known for was their tradition of doctoring the Farrington locals for the past four generations. The more Cori heard, the more she committed to her memory banks. It was soon becoming clear to her that any information on the handsome Dr. Cooper was important.

  Yesterday, he had been angry when he left her. That was apparent. But that hadn’t stopped him from checking on her last night and suggesting he take her back to Myrna’s for dinner. Except she hadn’t been as forgiving as he had—not after he had yelled at her. So she stiffly declined and settled for fixing herself soup. She only hoped the burned mess could be gotten out of the pot. And here she thought soup would be the easiest thing to cook. At least nothing had caught on fire.

  “Tell me something, if you have your hair done in Paris and have such an expensive wardrobe, why are you in Farrington and why are you working here?” Valerie Townsend asked from the manicure table she resided over. At the moment, she was idly filing her nails and glancing at the assortment of nail polish bottles that ranged from fire-engine red to pale pink. “Why not just call Daddy and ask him to pay your car repairs, so you can go back to Beverly Hills and all your charge cards? I bet you go to lots of big parties out there, don’t you? Did you ever date any celebrities? My, my, I can imagine you’re already bored here in this itty-bitty town.”

  Cori looked at the woman. She wouldn’t be surprised if the manicurist sported a healthy set of fangs to go with the claws she was presently painting bloodred.

  “I like to handle things myself,” she said calmly, pouring a dollop of shampoo in her hand and rubbing it into Belinda’s hair. Belinda, whose husband owned the feed and seed shop, had asked Cori to be the one to work on her hair. Proud, Cori immediately draped a plastic cape around the older woman’s shoulders and escorted her back to the sink. This wasn’t so difficult, she thought as she shampooed the woman’s hair. This she could do.

  Cori found herself enjoying the easy conversation in the Cut ‘n’ Curl. She watched Regina cut hair, and Sonia deftly roll wet strands on perm rods, and she even mixed hair color under Regina’s direction.

  “I tell you this is the most important night of my life,” Cori heard Thalia Roberts, Regina’s client, confide. “I just know Rawley’s taking me to dinner at the Easton Inn because he’s going to propose to me.”

  “Oh, honey, we’ll have you so gorgeous he’ll beg you to marry him.” Regina patted her shoulder before applying the color Cori had mixed. “Now this won’t change your color a lot. Just brighten it up a bit.”

  “What kind of shoes are those? Italian?” Valerie pointed to the delicate black leather sandals Cori wore with her black linen walking shorts and matching weskit. A black-billed cap was perched on her head with her hair feathered around the edges. “Pretty expensive shoes to wear around a one-horse town like this.”

  Cori shook her head. “I honestly can’t remember what they are. I chose them more for comfort than looks. I believe I found them at Neiman Marcus.”

  “Well, of course, it would be Neiman Marcus.” The derision in Valerie’s voice was unmistakable. “A fancy store for fancy shoes.”

  “You leave her alone, Valerie,” Regina warned, waving a rattail comb at the manicurist.

  “I just asked her a question,” she defended herself, looking about as innocent as a barracuda. “What’s so bad about that?”

  “It’s the way you’re doing it.”

  “Regina.” Thalia scooted to the front of her chair and peered closely in the mirror. “Is the color solution supposed to look like this?”

  Regina, who now had been taking rollers out of another client’s hair, walked back over to Thalia and took the plastic cap off her head. She slipped on her glasses that rode on top of her head and studied the colorful mess. “Cori, did you mix in color sixty-two with forty-eight?”

  Cori had only heard part of the question. “No, you said sixty-four,” she said absently as she dropped combs in the sterilizer jar.

  “Sixty-four!” Regina hurried her customer over to the sink.

  “What’s wrong?” Thalia kept asking as Regina sudsed her hair. “Regina, what happened?” Her question later ended in a scream as she saw herself in the mirror. Her normally dark blond hair, better known as dishwater blond, was now a vivid shade of orange.

  *

  “YOU’RE NOT GOING to believe this.” Ella cornered Ben when he finished seeing Marge Sinclair, now expecting her third baby.

  He closed his eyes. “Don’t tell me. Cori Peyton.”

  “All right.” The woman lumbered off. “Billy Larson’s in exam room one. That boy doesn’t understand he can’t eat six hamburgers without ending up with a bellyache.”

  Ben’s eyes popped open. “Ella.”

  “You told me not to tell you,” she said over her shoulder.

  “Ella.” His silent warning held no threat to the crusty nurse.

  She stopped and turned around. “I can’t believe you didn’t hear Thalia screaming. Some say she cracked a few windows in town.”

  He resisted the urge to throttle his bullheaded nurse and calmly said, “Tell me what happened at Regina’s.”

  “Regina had little Miss Cori mix the color solution. You see, Rawley’s taking Thalia out to dinner over at the Easton Inn tonight. Word has it he’s going to pop—”

  “Ella,” Ben interrupted. “Get to the point.”

  “Thalia’s dark blond hair is now the color of a traffic cone you see out on the highway.”

  Ben uttered a pithy curse.

  Ella’s dark eyes danced with laughter. “Too bad it hadn’t happened with that Valerie. She’s the one who needs taking down a peg or two. She figures she can get her hook
s in you, you know. Working as a manicurist is only her first step up to obtaining her goal as the wife of the town doctor.”

  “In her dreams,” he muttered, pulling on his T-shirt neckline as if it had suddenly gotten too tight. Even his lab coat felt snug.

  “You did take her to the last church social,” she reminded him.

  “And Brian Walters took her to the Valentine dance at the Elks Lodge. And Ed Farley took her to the Christmas social and—” Ella’s hand over his mouth stopped his recitation.

  “Go rescue your little project before Regina tears her hair out by the roots,” she advised as she efficiently divested him of his lab coat. “And while you’re at it, give Thalia a heavy-duty tranquilizer. I heard she’s having major hysterics. She’s now convinced Rawley will never ask for her hand.” She held up a small envelope.

  Ben looked inside the envelope and easily identified the capsule. “This could put her out for the next month.”

  “Might be a good idea.” She pushed him toward the door. “I can’t wait to see where you send the lady next.”

  “Neither can I,” he muttered.

  “Just remember one thing, Benjamin. We’re a small town and there’s only so many businesses you can blackmail into taking her,” she called after him.

  “You’re telling me.”

  Ben realized how quickly the story spread as he walked down the sidewalk.

  “Hey, Doc, I hear that little girl you’ve taken under your wing turned Thalia Roberts’s hair orange!” a man called out, on a wave of laughter from his cronies. “Think maybe Rawley otta wait until Halloween to take her out again?”

  “I heard it looks as if she dumped ten bottles of iodine on her head,” another man quipped.

  “Hey, Frank, next time you get that nasty heat rash around your privates you can go over to Milton for treatment,” Ben called back. He smiled to himself as he heard the joke now on someone else. His smile quickly disappeared as he approached the beauty shop. The small crowd milling about in front was a repeat of the scene at Elliott’s.

  “But, Doc, Milton’s a hundred miles away!” Ben was certain Frank’s wail could be heard that far away.

  “Yeah, a nice long bumpy ride,” Ben muttered to himself with no small amount of satisfaction as he walked into the beauty shop. Just before he stepped inside, he halted and speared his glance in the direction of one of the women in the crowd. “Good morning, Mrs. Rebus,” he cordially greeted the dark-clad woman. “Why, I’m real surprised to see you here today. Especially after your husband’s stirring sermon last Sunday about the evils of gossip.” He inclined his head in a respectful bow and walked in.

  “How would he know?” the woman sputtered. “He wasn’t even there!”

  Ben grinned. He knew the minister’s wife was more chagrined at getting caught being part of this gaggle of gossipy hens than he was at not being in church. He’d driven out to Hale Branson’s farm to stitch up the man’s leg after he cut it on a piece of machinery.

  “My life is ruined!” he heard as he entered the shop.

  “Now, darlin’, don’t you worry. We can fix your hair,” Regina was heard soothing her distraught client.

  “Then fix it!” Thalia wailed.

  “I just can’t do it today.” Regina wrung her hands. “If I try it now, the chemicals could make it all fall out.”

  “I’d be better off with no hair!”

  “I honestly thought that was the color number you said!” Cori apologized, looking as upset as the others.

  Thalia raised her head. Tears ran down her cheeks along with smears of black mascara, making her look like an orange-haired raccoon.

  Ben winced. Thalia wasn’t a pretty woman to begin with. That hair only worsened what few good looks she had.

  “Anyone need a doctor?” he spoke up, hoping a lighthearted approach would help. He immediately stepped back from the glares directed his way.

  “You give this girl a hearing test!” Regina shouted at him. “I tell her to mix number sixty-two and she mixes sixty-four and we come up with this!” Her outstretched arm directed his gaze toward Thalia’s brilliant orange hair.

  Ben winced at Regina’s screech. He figured Cori’s hearing was just fine when she also made a face.

  “Now, Regina,” he placated, “you can’t tell me you haven’t made a mistake in all the years you’ve done hair.”

  Her stony gaze could have turned him to concrete. “I have never made a mistake when it comes to my client’s hair,” she haughtily declared, throwing her head back with an equally dramatic gesture. “They are too precious to me.”

  Another mistake he’d made. “Well, I’m sure you can do something,” he ventured.

  “What do you suggest I do?”

  Ben thought of suggesting it all be cut off, but he already knew it wouldn’t be appreciated.

  “You could tell Rawley it’s a new craze.” He winced when Thalia’s high-pitched wail assaulted his ears again.

  “He’ll never propose now! I’ll be single all my life!” She buried her face in her hands.

  Regina stared at Cori as if she wanted to take her scissors to her hair.

  “Get her out of here.”

  Ben didn’t waste any time. He grabbed Cori’s hand and dragged her out of the shop.

  “I heard bleach rots the brain,” a woman muttered as they made their way through the small crowd. “Maybe that’s why she screws up so much.”

  “I heard that, too,” another one chimed in.

  Cori’s face mirrored her outrage. “I do not bleach my hair!”

  “Do yourself a favor and be quiet,” Ben whispered, picking up his pace.

  “I don’t care what she said. She told me number sixty-four,” Cori went on, now almost running to keep up with him. “It’s because she tries to do too much and I just bet she has made mistakes in the past.”

  Ben stopped short and spun her around to face him. “Cori, shut up.” He threw his head back and sought answers from above. Unfortunately, at that moment, the lines must have been busy.

  Cori blinked her eyes furiously to keep the tears from falling. “Look, I’m sorry Thalia’s hair ended up that way. I tried to apologize, but she only cried more.”

  He shook his head and started walking down the side of the clinic until they reached the cottage in the back.

  “Let me explain something to you,” he said quietly, now that he figured he’d regained his composure. “You probably noticed that Thalia isn’t exactly a raving beauty. But that doesn’t matter, because Rawley isn’t that much of a prize, either. But that’s beside the point, because they really care about each other. Rumor has it Rawley’s taken the past month to get up his courage to pop the question. Thalia’s afraid if she postpones this dinner date, he’ll lose his courage. And it’s all thanks to you.”

  The moment he saw her stricken face, he should have regretted his sharp words. But they were necessary. Right now, he was about ready to pay for her car repairs himself and send her on her way before she did any more damage.

  Cori’s chin wobbled dangerously. “I didn’t do it on purpose,” she whispered. “She sat there, so excited about tonight…” The tears began falling fast and furious.

  Ben cursed himself for sounding so harsh with her and immediately folded her in his arms.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, stroking her back in an effort to calm her. Except, while he was busy trying to calm her, his own system was racing. She was soft and fragrant in his arms. A light floral scent wafted from her hair, just adding to the dream he was convinced he was having.

  “I don’t want to hurt anyone!” she sobbed, linking her arms around his neck and unconsciously pressing herself closer against him.

  “I know.” Taking deep breaths didn’t help when all he wanted to do was find out how she tasted.

  Cori sniffed several times as she tipped her head back.

  “You’re very good looking,” she murmured, as if it suddenly occurred to her.

&n
bsp; He smiled. “In hopes I don’t boost your ego too high, let me say you’re not so bad yourself.”

  Cori stared up at him. While most women’s faces looked red and blotchy when they cried, hers glowed. Her tear-glazed eyes appeared covered with luminescent stars and her lips were damp from her tears.

  Ben was only human. He instantly lowered his head, covering her mouth with his.

  He was lost the moment his lips touched hers.

  She tasted of salt. She smelled like rare spring flowers, and she felt like heaven.

  Cori moaned softly, allowing his tongue access into her mouth. Even that was like an experience he’d never felt before. She tasted of hot nights on cool sheets. Of the feel of silky skin against hair roughened skin. He knew she would wind herself around him like a sheet, but infinitely more arousing. She would match him move for move and once he made love to her, he sensed once wouldn’t be enough.

  Ben had kissed more than his share of women during his thirty-six years, but no woman aroused him as instantly as Cori Peyton did. Nor instilled feelings he couldn’t comprehend. Part of him was afraid to even try to explain them. Right now, he was more than content to stand here with Cori in his arms and her lips against his.

  Cori was the one to break the embrace. She looked up at him with the same stunned expression he was sure mirrored his own face.

  “I can’t—” She held up her hands in a helpless gesture and turned her back on him. And then she ran.

  *

  “ARE YOU EVER going to return to earth?” Ella demanded, barging her way in the office where Ben was busy making notes on several charts. It had been a long day for him, starting with the incident at the Cut ‘n’ Curl and definitely not ending with the kiss. Cori’s incredible kiss lingered with him all afternoon. As well as her reaction. He hadn’t even tried to stop her from running away; he’d been too busy trying to make sense of his own jumbled emotions. Right now, all he wanted to do was go home and watch TV.

  He looked up at Ella. “Excuse me?”