by Shirley Jump
Bella ignored the compliment and kept on walking. “We had a good illness prevention program in place before the outbreak of sick children, but since that day, we have increased the number of hand-sanitizing stations and been extra vigilant about cleanliness and disinfecting. We’ve had no problems like that since.”
“That’s good to hear.” Walker turned to Bella. She was definitely on top of everything that happened at Just Us Kids. He made a mental note to be sure Marty planned to call her as a witness. She’d do a far better job on the stand than Hudson. “Do you think the Marshall baby got sick because of attending Just Us Kids? Tell me the truth. I’d rather deal with that than be blindsided in court next week.”
Bella glanced at Hudson. As his direct report, she no doubt felt he should be the one answering. “Uh, Hudson?”
“You know this place better than I know my own house,” Hudson said. “Go ahead. Tell Walker your opinion. He won’t bite.”
“Yes, please,” Walker echoed. “Tell me what you think happened.”
“I don’t think the first child contracted RSV here,” Bella said, her words slow at first, then picking up speed as she realized both men were interested in her take. “We had a few kids come in here after a long weekend, coughing and sneezing. One of those midsummer colds that just seemed to take hold all over town, so it wasn’t surprising to see some sniffles around here. We increased our cleaning frequency, instructed staff to wash their hands more frequently and be even more diligent about disinfecting surfaces. It was hard to tell, honestly, if it was just a cold virus or something more serious.” Bella sighed. Walker could see she was still troubled about the event.
“We weren’t alerted that the first child had RSV for three days. Once we knew, we sent a letter home with all the parents. If a parent brought in a sniffling child, we kept that child separated from the other kids.”
To Walker, it sounded like Bella had covered all the bases. He’d read up on RSV enough to know that it did, indeed, start off as a cold, and sometimes developed into RSV in children with weakened immune systems. While the virus was spread through touching germ-filled spaces, the center had done everything within its power to reduce that likelihood. He was feeling more and more confident that the judge would agree.
“Told you,” Hudson said to Walker. “She’s smart. Everyone who works here thinks Bella is pretty awesome. I don’t have any worries when I leave her in charge.”
Hudson was singing Bella’s praises, but she was not impressed. She mostly ignored Hudson, Walker noticed, and every time she did, his brother tried harder to get her attention. That was what Walker liked best about Bella—she was immune to Hudson’s charms.
Which also made her perfect to be entirely in charge at Just Us Kids.
“I’m glad to hear you were on top of it, and covered all the bases,” he said to her. “You’ve done a great job, Bella.”
She blushed. “I’m just doing my job. I care about the kids.”
“It shows.” He glanced at his brother again. Hudson was marginally involved in the conversation—most of his attention was centered on the blonde. Clearly, Hudson had a little crush on Bella and cared more about what she thought of him than what was going on at this day care. “In fact, Bella, I want to make you full-time manager.”
He named a significant pay raise, knowing she was worth that and more.
“I... I don’t know what to say,” Bella said. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” Walker gave her a nod.
“You two probably want to visit,” Bella said. “I’m just going to grab my things and go home. Thank you again, Mr. Jones.”
After Bella was gone, Walker and Hudson walked back through the building to the lobby. At the door, Hudson turned to Walker. “What the hell was that about?”
“What was what about?”
“You making her full-time manager. Not that I don’t think Bella is doing a hell of a job, but you made it sound like I’m not even a part of this place.”
“You’re not. I asked you to oversee things, and protect the family interests. And instead, we’ve ended up with a scandal and sick kids on our hands. On your watch, I might add.”
Hudson shook his head. “Yeah, oversee, not control. I never promised to be full-time, Walker. You knew I had other business interests to manage.”
“The only interest I cared about was this one.”
“I have been here,” Hudson said. “Far more than you think.”
“Oh, yeah? Then how come you looked as surprised as I was by the changes in the day care? Can you tell me the procedures for disinfection every night? Do you even know the names of everyone who works here?”
Hudson scowled. “You sound just like our father right now. Doesn’t matter what I do or don’t do, it’s not enough for you.”
The reference to their father chafed at Walker. He was nothing like the elder Jones. “I’m just running a business here, Hudson. Nothing more.”
“Of course.” A look that could have been disappointment, could have been hurt, filled Hudson’s features. “It’s not about family, it’s about profits and losses.”
“I’m not that callous and cold.”
His brother stood there a moment, looking at the street outside the glass front door. “You know, for a minute there, when you danced at the bar and helped with the festival prep, I thought maybe you were changing,” Hudson said. “Becoming more of the brother I remembered before you started working for our father. But I was wrong. You’ve become just like him. Cold and distant and impossible.”
Walker refused to answer that. Refused to entertain the thought that Hudson’s words had struck a nerve. He pushed on the door handle, then turned back. “That woman—Bella—is worth more than you think. Take care of her or you’ll lose her.”
Walker got in his car and pulled out of the lot. As he drove, his mind kept going back to Hudson’s words. It’s not about family, it’s about profits and losses.
It bothered Walker that he and Hudson had lost that easy relationship they’d had when they were kids. Of the five Jones boys, Walker and Hudson had always gotten along the best. Maybe it was the four-year age difference, or maybe it was that Hudson’s fun-loving personality had balanced Walker’s serious, eldest child attitude. But as they’d gotten older and gone their separate ways, their relationship had deteriorated.
Walker had hoped—maybe foolishly—that his stay in Rust Creek Falls would be an opportunity to get back some of the relationship he had lost with Hudson. They were both adults now, and with Hudson’s vested interest in the day care property, they had something more in common. But given the look of frustration on Hudson’s face earlier, Walker would put the chances of that happening at zero.
Yet another reason to leave this town as soon as possible. This lawsuit couldn’t be settled fast enough for Walker’s taste.
* * *
Lindsay sat in the Marshalls’ living room, holding a cup of tea and feeling the ten-ton brick of their expectations hanging over her shoulders. They had been heartened by the judge’s dismissal of Walker’s summary judgment attempt but worried that the shortened timeline for going to court was going to impact their case. Lindsay attempted to defuse their concerns. “I think we have a strong case,” she told them. “I wouldn’t have taken the case if I didn’t think so.”
While the Marshalls seemed to relax, on the sofa across from her Dr. Jonathan Clifton put his cup on the table and leaned forward. He and his fiancée, nurse Dawn Laramie, who sat beside him, had treated Georgina during the RSV outbreak. He’d agreed to come to the Marshalls’ house and talk about next week’s trial, given that he would be one of the witnesses she was going to call. “It is going to be difficult to prove that the day care center was responsible, you know,” he said. “This isn’t a clear-cut case.”
Jon had bee
n saying that from the start. Lindsay had talked to several experts, and she knew that Walker had a point—RSV could be contracted easily, especially in children with weakened immune systems. But that didn’t make Just Us Kids not responsible. They could have done more, reacted faster. In his deposition, Hudson Jones, Walker’s brother and the landlord of the property, had come across as knowing little of the day-to-day details of what was going on within the doors of the center. That alone made them at least partially responsible.
If Walker or his brother had seen baby Georgina lying so frail and tiny in that hospital bed, they would have reacted just as Lindsay had—with horror that something that started out so innocuously could put a vulnerable infant on the edge of death.
“Maybe so, but the day care center should have done more to head off the further outbreak,” Lindsay said. “I will argue that their laziness in disinfecting and their slow response to the crisis contributed to Georgina’s illness.”
Heather Marshall glanced down at her baby, asleep in her arms. Georgina was only six months old, but still so tiny, so fragile. “I just don’t want any other parents to go through what we did.”
“And they shouldn’t. We’ll make sure that Walker Jones pays for this. He can’t open a day care center in this town and then just walk away from it.” Lindsay could feel the fight boiling up inside her again. For a minute there, back in the gym with the booth-building project, she’d seen Walker as a man, not an adversary. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
“We have no doubts you can do this, Lindsay,” Pete said. He covered his wife’s hand with his own. Georgina stirred, woke up with a happy start, as she usually did, then spied Lindsay. She put out her arms in Lindsay’s direction.
Heather gave her daughter an indulgent smile, then got to her feet and handed Georgina to Lindsay. Ever since the first time Lindsay had met the Marshalls’ baby, the two of them had bonded. Maybe Georgina sensed all the experience Lindsay had with the Stockton triplets, or maybe she just knew Lindsay was on her side.
Lindsay rested the baby on her chest. Georgina snuggled her little face into Lindsay’s neck. She fisted the soft cotton of Lindsay’s shirt in one hand. The weight of the baby seemed ten times heavier because it came with all the hopes of the parents sitting across from her.
Lindsay let out a deep breath. “I worry, honestly, that I don’t have the experience that you need for a case like this. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—I would completely understand if you felt more comfortable with another lawyer.”
Heather glanced at Pete, who gave her a little nod. She turned back to Lindsay. “We don’t want another lawyer. We want you. You’re a Dalton. Your family practically built this town. We know you love Rust Creek Falls and all the people here, and that means you have something a big-time lawyer from out of town wouldn’t have. Heart. We know you’ll do whatever it takes to win this case.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your faith in me.” Lindsay inhaled, and the fresh, sweet scent of baby filled her nose. Georgina’s fist curled around Lindsay’s finger, as if saying, I have faith, too. A knot twisted in her stomach. Was she really up to this challenge?
Walker Jones’s attorney was more experienced, but the Marshalls were right—he didn’t have the heart and soul for this town that she had. Hopefully, that would be enough.
Chapter Six
Walker had never been a big fan of holidays. Everything was shut down—banks, post office, some companies—and that meant he woke up on Monday morning expecting to get to work and realizing his day was already half-shot by the lack of availability of people he needed to talk to. Columbus Day wasn’t even a real holiday, he thought, but it was real enough to leave him at loose ends.
He paced his room at Maverick Manor and debated what to do. He had a meeting with his lawyer later this afternoon, just a quick pretrial conference, but beyond that, his day was free. He’d already spent all day Sunday in his room, catching up on documents he needed to read, reviewing financial statements for his company, and cleaning out his email inbox. Even though the room was beautiful, with an expansive view of the lush green valley below and stunning mountain peaks in the distance, Walker didn’t relish the idea of another day spent in here, especially when the sun was shining on a perfect fall day.
What was wrong with him? Normally he loved his job. Hardly noticed when he worked sunup to sundown. But there was something about this town—an energy—that seemed to beg him to stop working, smell the roses. Enjoy his stay.
He unfolded The Rust Creek Falls Gazette. There was a history of Columbus Day on the front page, then an update on the Harvest Festival preparations. He scanned over the paragraphs and noted a second volunteer event this afternoon. Something about helping with painting the signs.
Would Lindsay be there?
And why did he care? He shouldn’t see her. Shouldn’t spend time with her. After all, they were going to court tomorrow. Any sane man would stay far, far away from the woman suing his company.
So why was Walker in his rental car driving down the hill and back to the high school gymnasium?
He strode inside, his gaze scanning the room for Lindsay. Disappointment sank in his gut when he realized she wasn’t there.
He started to turn away when he saw her coming around the corner with her sister and another man who had the same brown hair as her and Lani. The three of them were laughing at something and clearly teasing each other. The scene looked so happy, so easy.
Envy curled in his gut. He had friends, of course, and family, but he’d never had a relationship with anyone that unfurled as unfettered as a loose ribbon. Maybe he needed to get out more. Or maybe he needed to relax a little more. Let the mountains and the valleys and the fresh air do their magic.
Or maybe just get back to work, before this whole place wrapped him any further in its lotus-eaters grip.
The happy, unstressed look disappeared from Lindsay’s face when she saw Walker, and was replaced with a scowl. “What are you doing here?”
“Helping again.”
She shook her head. “Stop trying to play town hero, Mr. Jones.”
So they were still on Mr. Jones. He’d been hoping she would’ve rethought that formality, but their kiss only seemed to spur more animosity. Maybe she’d hated that kiss. Or maybe she hated him.
“I’m not trying to play hero. It’s a holiday, so I don’t have much to do for work. I wanted to keep busy, saw the mention of this volunteer day in the paper, and so here I am.”
She shook her head. “It’s a free country, so I can’t stop you, but I also don’t have to work with you. The job board is over there. Go pick anything that doesn’t have my name beside it. And please, stay on your side of the gym.”
Walker leaned forward and put out his hand toward the man in their group. “I’m Walker Jones, in case Lindsay here didn’t already tell you. Also known as the devil incarnate.”
The other man grinned. “Anderson Dalton, Lindsay’s brother. If she has you on her persona non grata list, it’s for a good reason. Although whatever stories she might have told you about me, I was always the innocent party.”
“I have four brothers. I know what you mean. There were a lot of crimes committed by Not Me.” Walker gave Lani a nod. “Nice to see you again, Lani.”
She gave him a barely perceptible acknowledgment. “Mr. Jones.”
Two Daltons out of three who didn’t want to see him. Okay, so he’d faced better odds.
He would have walked away, but that kiss with Lindsay was still lingering in the back of his mind. Whatever she might be saying now, he was pretty damned positive he’d read interest in their embrace. If there was one thing Walker Jones didn’t do, it was give up easily. So he had no intention of leaving the gym. Or, for whatever reason, letting Lindsay’s negative opinion of him linger. He didn’t know why it mattered t
o him so much, but one way or another, he was going to prove to her that he wasn’t half as bad as she thought.
“Listen,” Anderson said, leaning toward him and lowering his voice, “my sisters are awesome, but they’re also fiercely loyal to the family, to this town, as pretty much everyone in Rust Creek Falls is. I believe in giving everyone a fair shake, especially people who want to help out and provide some free labor. So come with me and let’s see if we can get you hooked up with a job to do. Preferably one I don’t want to do.”
Anderson and Walker laughed. He liked Lindsay’s brother already, and under different circumstances, he could see the two of them playing a few holes of golf or enjoying some bourbon at a fancy bar.
Lindsay shot her brother a glare as he led Walker over to the volunteer sign-in table. Walker gave Lindsay a smile, which she ignored. He wasn’t surprised, but he was more than a little disappointed. He turned back to her brother. One Dalton at a time. “So, Anderson, do you live here, too?”
“Yup. I’m a rancher, so most of my days are spent with the horses. Sometimes,” he said with a quick nod toward his sisters, “they can be a lot easier to deal with than women.”
Walker laughed. “You have that right. Though I don’t have a lot of experience with ranches or horses. Give me a boardroom and I’m at home. But on a farm or a ranch... I wouldn’t know what to do.”
“It’s easy. You listen to your heart.” Anderson put a hand on his chest. He was taller than his sisters but had the same brown hair and blue eyes. “Your heart will tell you when a horse needs a gentler touch or the land needs some attention. Your heart will tell you whether you’re running things right or running them into the ground. And your heart will always tell you if you’re in the right spot—or still searching for the perfect one for you.”
That could just as easily be a prescription for dealing with women, especially a beautiful, stubborn, bristly lawyer.