Matched Online: Anthology Bks 1-4 (Contemporary Romance)

by Lacy Williams, Julie Jarnagin, Robin Patchen

  She needed that kind of December so she could make this store a success.

  And be stuck in Ross for the rest of her life. There'd been times when that thought had depressed her, but now, an image of Carter filled her mind. He was here, would stay here for a long time, if that pretty house were any indication. But that wasn't going to matter to her. He'd meet a nice girl, and they'd marry and have a houseful of healthy children.

  She stepped away from the computer and the sales numbers and all those bleak thoughts and smiled at her mother.

  "I'm sure they'll call me with the results as soon as they have them."

  "It's never taken this long."

  Actually, it had often taken longer to get results back. Sometimes the days had flushed away like sewage while she'd rotted in the hospital, sick from drugs and infections and cancer. But reminding Mom of that didn't seem the right play just now.

  Telling her she'd gone back for more tests? No, Mom didn't need that worry.

  "They told me it would take a few days. Maybe no news is good news."

  Her mother pursed her lips, and Jo knew what she was thinking. She wouldn't count on it.

  "Fine." Mom hefted her banana-colored purse onto the counter and leaned forward. "So what about the date? Have you been out with him again?"

  Another thing Jo had kept from her. Yeah, she'd told her about the lunch date the previous Tuesday, but she hadn't mentioned her walk with Carter Friday night, and she hadn't mentioned their lunch date on Monday. No need to get her hopes up when nothing could come of it.

  "I promise, if there's anything important to tell, you'll be the first to know."

  There went those pursed lips again. "Darlin', did he not ask you out again? What a fool. Most men wouldn't know a good woman if...if..."

  "If she was sitting across the lunch table from him?"

  Mom slammed her fist on the counter. "Exactly." She breathed deeply, forced her lips up in an almost convincing smile, and patted Jo's hand. "Don't you worry, darlin'. God's got the perfect man for you. We need to get your photo on the dating website post haste. 'Fore you know it, you'll have men falling all over themselves to meet you."

  The bell chimed over the door, and Carter walked in.

  Jo nodded at him, then looked at her mother. Maybe Jo could keep things professional until Mom left.

  Based on the expression on Carter's face, that wasn't going to happen. He approached her mother. "You must be Mrs. Domani. Carter James." He held out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

  Mom's jaw dropped. She forced it closed, then offered her perfect southern belle smile. "Call me Lila, darlin'. You here to see my girl?"

  "I am. I was hoping to take her for coffee, but if I'm interrupting—"

  "No, no. Y'all go on. I'll let myself out." Mom raised a brow toward Jo. "I expect you'll call me with any"—she glanced at Carter—"updates. Right?"

  "Yes, ma'am." Anything to get her out of there.

  She grabbed her sunshiny purse and breezed out the door.

  Carter chuckled. "She's a pistol, huh?"

  "Primed, loaded, and cocked."

  "I hope that was all right, introducing myself."

  "As long as you're okay with the whole town knowing you're taking me for coffee, it's fine with me."

  She watched him for a reaction, a flicker of nerves or a glance over his shoulder, but his face remained amused.

  Okay, so he probably wasn't married. She was probably the most paranoid woman in Oklahoma.

  The week before, the day she'd helped him with his shipping, she'd thought he was being dishonest about something. One random flicker of suspicion, and it had held on, grown in her thoughts like a tumor, like...

  No, she wouldn't use the c-word. Carter and the other c-word were not related in any way.

  "So can you?" he asked. "I should have called. I know lunch is probably better, but I'm about to start my next project, and I won't be able to stop until supper time."

  "What's this project?"

  "That Adirondack chair. It's pretty intricate, so it'll take a lot of time and detail work to get the wood grain right. But I didn't want to miss you, so..."

  He left the unspoken question hanging. It was still early. If she could be back by eleven, she'd beat the rush. She popped in the back room to ask Andrew to watch the front, then grabbed her jacket and joined Carter at the door.

  They went to Cup of Joe, ordered their drinks, and slid into a booth.

  "So," Carter said, "no news from the doctor?"

  "Not yet. But honestly, I bet it was nothing. Lots of things can elevate your white blood count. An infection—even a very small one. Certain foods, even exercise."

  He was nodding as if trying to believe there was nothing to worry about. She appreciated the effort. "You worked pretty hard on Thursday," he said, "and in that cold. Maybe that had something to do with it."

  "See, there you go. You're probably right."

  He smiled, but the expression was more sad than not. "It's must be hard, always wondering. I keep thinking, what must it be like to have your own body fight against you? It's like a betrayal or something."

  She nodded, letting the thought settle in her mind. A betrayal. "Not sure I ever used that word, but you know, it describes it. One day, my body's on my side. The next, it's trying to kill me."

  "I'm not being very encouraging, am I?"

  She set her cup down and reached across the table to take his hand. It was the first time she'd initiated a touch, and though he hardly reacted, the moment felt charged suddenly. Filled with the emotional connection that had been growing between them. How could she feel so strongly about a man she'd only known a week? Yet she did. That would make it so much harder when it was over.

  But not now. She wouldn't think about that right now.

  "I don't need encouragement." She paused, and he rubbed his thumb along the back of her knuckles. It felt so natural. Like her hand had been made exactly for that.

  What had she been saying? Encouragement, right. "Sometimes, it's more important that somebody understand. That's difficult, though. I know that. I know that to step into somebody else's pain, to own it long enough to understand it..." She felt suddenly self-conscious. She hadn't planned to get philosophical.

  He squeezed her hand. "I don't think I understand what you're going through, not really. But I understand what it feels to hurt, to lose something you love. And I understand that platitudes don't help."

  He pressed his lips together, looked down, and pulled his hand back to sip his coffee.

  There was a story there. They both had stories, histories, pasts. A lot to share, if they stayed together.

  They wouldn't stay together, though. After she found out the test results, whatever they were, she'd make it easy for him. She'd walk away.

  13

  Carter stepped back and studied his work. He had a long way to go on this Adirondack chair mold, and he was getting a late start. The canoe molds had taken longer than he'd anticipated, so he'd have to spend a lot of hours in the shop to get this one done on time. He couldn't miss the deadline. His client needed it as quickly as Carter could get it to him, and the money he'd make would account for much of the down payment for his house.

  Tick, tick, tick. The timing would work out perfectly, as long as he didn't get behind.

  He'd made a good start today on the Adirondack's seat back. He'd leave it to dry overnight. The mold would take him a few weeks to complete, but the company that had contracted him for the job was paying him enough to make the time worth it. His smaller jobs would tuck right into the time when he had to wait for segments to dry, adding to his income.

  No, money wasn't a problem, as long as he kept his clients happy. He'd been making a good living in Oklahoma City. In this little town, he could afford the house and the land and the truck and whatever else he wanted—not that he wanted much. Not stuff he could buy at the mall anyway.

  He slid off his gloves and tossed them onto the work be
nch and prayed for Jo's health. As he drove to his folks' house, he prayed she'd get good news from the doctor. Every time she came to mind, he prayed for her. And he prayed for guidance for himself, because he was falling for the beautiful girl from the UPS store, falling for her short hair and her beautiful face and her kind heart. Falling for her wisdom, the kind most women in their twenties didn't possess.

  Did she really want to own that UPS franchise? If they were to marry, they wouldn't need the income, and he'd much prefer her to have the freedom to go on his business trips with him. She could travel, like she'd always wanted, and he could have his family with him on those trips away from home.

  Of course he was making a lot of assumptions. Even if she did forgive him for not telling her the truth about Sara from the start, what would Jo think of his little girl? What would Sara think of her? Would the fact that he came with a child push Jo away? Or would she consider becoming a mother to his motherless daughter?

  A wife to him?

  He hadn't told Sara or his folks about the new house yet, but he'd already had his first meal there, with Jo. He imagined her sitting on the couch beside him, sipping hot cocoa on Christmas morning. Imagined Sara digging into the presents beneath a fresh-cut Christmas tree while they watched.

  The picture came too easily.

  Those images were still in his mind when he pulled into his parents' driveway, climbed out, and turned toward the sound of giggles off to the side of the house. Sara was swinging high on the swing set Pops had built for her. "Daddy, watch!"

  She let go and launched herself off the swing.

  His stomach shot into his throat as he ran toward her, sure she'd break something.

  She landed in the soft sand, stumbled forward, then popped up like a bobber with a trout on the line. "Did you see? I was flying!" She climbed back on the swing and pumped her legs to get going again.

  How in the world was he going to handle this little spitfire alone?

  And there was Jo's image again, standing beside him through it all.

  He looked to the sky. Lord, I hope you know what you're doing. I said I wasn't going to risk my heart again, and I feel like I've laid it on a chopping block.

  He headed inside. In the kitchen, his mom stirred something in a pot. Smelled like beef stew.

  "Sara's jumping off the swing," he said.

  "She's so much like her daddy." Mom laughed. "You remember when I took you and your brother to that park in town? I wish you'd been content to jump off the swings. I turned my back, and you were gone. Where did I find you?" She covered her heart with her hand like the memory might give her a heart attack. "Y'all had scaled the tallest tree. You waved at me from the top, like I'd be so proud." She shook her head, tried to act disapproving, but her smile gave her away. "Y'all were nearly the death of me."

  He remembered the day well. He and Dean had dared each other to go higher until they were swaying with the wind on the very top of that old oak. He chuckled, then thought of his daughter. "Sara's a lot more delicate than we were, Mom. Maybe we should get rid of the swing set."

  "Oh, pshaw. She's as tough as they come. She looks delicate to you because she's your baby."

  He was about to argue, but she cut him off.

  "So, are you going to tell me about this woman you had lunch with last week? This Josephine?"

  Since this was the first time they'd been able to talk without Sara's little ears overhearing, Mom didn't know what had occupied his heart and mind recently. It wasn't that he'd actively avoided telling her. But now, as excuses to leave barraged him, he realized maybe he had actively avoided this conversation.

  He peeked in the pot. Definitely stew. He reached for the silverware drawer, but her look told him he'd get no sample until he talked.

  She left the spoon in the pot and turned, eyebrows lifted.

  He sighed. "She goes by Jo."

  His mother's expression of curiosity morphed into a frown. "Oh. Not the girl at the UPS store."

  Great. Mom knew her. How'd a woman who'd only lived in town a couple of years managed to learn everybody's name? "Yeah, that's her."

  His mother's frown lines deepened, and she turned around to stir the soup again.

  "What?" he asked. "Don't you like her?"

  "I've never met her."

  "Oh." He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. "What then?"

  She tapped the spoon on the side of the pot, then set it on a plate. She turned and sighed. "I don't know if she told you, so maybe I shouldn't, but you need to know."

  "What?"

  "We've been praying for her in church. Ever since we started going there, in fact, her name's been on the prayer list."

  "Oh. Right." That made sense.

  "So you know? About the"—she leaned forward like she was about to share a dark secret, lowered her voice—"about the cancer?"

  He straightened his shoulders. "Yes, I know."

  "Okay, then." She watched him, seemed to be waiting.

  "What?"

  "It's just…" She shook her head. "It's okay. There are a lot of other women out there. We need to find you someone—"

  "I like Jo, Mom. She's amazing."

  "She's sick."

  He thought of how Jo'd described her cancer. No evidence detected. Until she heard back about this latest blood test, there was no reason to think that status had changed. "She's in remission."

  "But still...cancer."

  Again with the whispering, as if she'd said stripper or murderer.

  "First, her type of cancer has a really high survival rate—"

  "But there's no—"

  "And second, do you really think I should throw her over because she might or might not be sick?"

  "Of course not, honey. Not if it was only you. But you have Sara to think of now. Remember how devastated she was when Heather left? How could you even think of getting involved with a woman who might die?"

  His mother's words hit home. His sweet, innocent child had cried for weeks over the woman they'd thought loved them. Heather had walked away without even saying goodbye to her. Sara had only been three at the time, but she'd missed Heather's presence, just like she'd always missed her mother.

  He pushed those memories away and crossed his arms. "This is none of your business, Mother."

  She stepped forward, patted his hand. "You're right, of course. Besides, we're getting way ahead of ourselves here. It was just one date. It's not like you're thinking of proposing."

  The problem was, that's exactly what he'd been thinking. He'd needed to find a way to make Ross feel like his home. He'd established a business, found a church, and signed a contract on a house.

  But what kind of life could he have here if he had to give up the woman who truly made him feel like he'd found a home?

  14

  A steady stream of customers kept Jo and Andrew busy all Thursday morning. Many were getting a jump on their Christmas shipping, but a few were folks she'd visited in the past week, business owners who'd promised to give them a try and made good on their promises.

  This business might actually survive the year. The thought caused her to waffle. Did she want it to? Being with Carter this last week had sparked a fresh hope. She was almost afraid to acknowledge it, afraid that if she looked right at it, like a mirage, it would dissolve away.

  And no, owning a UPS Store had never been her dream. Maybe, if she remained NED, maybe she'd sell it or hire a manager, so she could travel some. She didn't have the money for a six-week tour of Europe or a year-long mission trip with YWAM like she'd planned before her diagnosis, but she could probably afford a vacation now and then. Her whole life didn't have to be defined by cancer.

  Assuming her white blood count was back to normal.

  Her cell rang during the lunch hour. She checked the screen, saw the familiar number, and left the customers with Andrew. In the office, she connected the call.

  "Jo, it's Charlene from Dr. Rashid's office. You have a minute?"


  The nurse. Maybe that was a good sign. "Are the results in?"

  "They are," she said. "Your blood test was normal. You're still NED."

  Jo sat in her chair, tears prickling her eyes. Normal. No evidence of cancer. She was one test further from sick. One test nearer to healthy. She could hardly breathe.

  "You still with me?" Charlene said.

  "Yes." She swallowed the sob. "Yes" again, and then, "Thank you. Thank you so much."

  "Always a pleasure to pass along good news. You have a good day now."

  Jo hung up, took a few deep breaths. She dialed her mother's cell, told her the good news, and was rewarded with a squeal that could be heard in the next county. Jo laughed with her mother, then hung up. She'd better check on Andrew.

  He'd managed the crowd, so only one customer remained. Jo organized the packages until the customer left.

  "Thanks for taking care of that."

  "No problem." He nodded toward the cell phone still in her hand. "Everything okay?"

  He knew about her cancer, of course. He needed to be prepared, in case she got sick. She smiled and said, "Test was negative."

  He high-fived her. "Awesome. Congrats."

  She felt like she'd shaken off a heavy weight. The store was empty, and even if someone came in, Andrew could handle it for a few minutes. "You mind if I run out for a few minutes?"

  "Sure. I got this."

  She thanked him, grabbed her jacket, and headed out the back door.

  She could drive, but the weather was lovely. Crisp and cool and sunny. Thanks to a warm autumn, the leaves were only now starting to fall off the trees interspersed along the sidewalk. They crunched beneath her feet and released a fresh, woodsy scent she always associated with Thanksgiving. She had so much to be thankful for this year. Business was looking up, her health was looking up, and Carter.

  She couldn't wait to tell him.

  She turned on the side street and headed to Elm. As she rounded the corner beside his workshop, she saw him standing between the building's open cargo doors and his truck. His back was to her, and she was about to call out when she heard his voice.