The Back-Up Plan

by Debra Webb

  “And I have your word on that?”

  “You have my word.”

  Every square inch of his one-hundred-percent male body begged for her acceptance. In more ways than one, she feared.

  Donna reluctantly extended her hand toward him. “Friends, then.”

  “Friends.” Smiling, he grasped her hand to seal the deal.

  Donna had the distinct feeling that she had just made a pact with the devil himself.

  Chapter Five

  Blue Monday. No one wanted to be here today. Weekends always had that effect on the kids. Not one of Hank’s students appeared the least bit interested in copying the alphabet onto their tablets. And this Monday was certainly blue, Hank thought with a grin. He surveyed his classroom to admire his very blue paint job. He loved it. The color sort of clashed with the yellow and green carpet, but, hell, he didn’t care.

  He dropped to his knees next to another dawdler who preferred playing Picasso to doing her work. “Let’s get our board work done first, Katie, then we can draw.”

  The kids weren’t the only ones having trouble staying focused this particular Monday though. Hank had spent the better part of the weekend trying to get his feet back on the ground. This shouldn’t be happening so fast. Hell, it shouldn’t be happening at all. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t eat. Worst of all, he couldn’t think—without thinking of one brown-eyed doctor.

  He stood and walked to the next table. Not once in his life had he mooned over a woman in his life. Even the doc’s less than subtle rejections hadn’t deterred his unexplainable need to pursue her. He slowly circled a table, scanning his students’ progress. No doubt about it, the player Hank Bradley had it bad for Donna Jacobs. And that admission didn’t sit well with the way he’d always seen himself.

  “Mr. Hank. Mr. Hank.”

  His preoccupied gaze moved down to the red-headed, freckled-faced little girl tugging on his pant leg. “What’s wrong, Sherry?”

  “Sarah’s giving Julie a new hair-do instead of me,” she explained indignantly.

  “What?” His brow furrowed in confusion. He scanned the room for the two little girls in question. His heart stopped stock-still in his chest. Sarah, the local hair dresser’s daughter, was working black finger paint into Julie Allison’s long blonde hair. Hank swallowed a string of inventive expletives and dashed across the room.

  He snatched Julie from her chair and held her up in front of him to inspect the damage. “Sarah, what have you done?” His gaze moved from Julie’s paint-streaked head to Sarah’s nonchalant face.

  “She wants black hair like mine,” Sarah spouted as if that explained everything. “I seen my momma do it hunnards a times.”

  Holy crap. “You—” Hank glared at Sarah. “—stand right there.” He surveyed the room at large. “Nobody moves,” he warned. Twenty sets of eyes went wide.

  Julie started to whimper and Hank realized that he was still holding her up in the air. He pulled her against his chest and patted her skunky-looking hairdo. “It’s okay, Julie, it’s washable. I hope,” he added under his breath.

  He strode quickly to the sink in the back of the room and turned on the tap. Hank rubbed at the pounding in his forehead with the back of one hand and kept Julie clutched to his side with the other. If Masters walked in right now—damn, he didn’t even want to think about it.

  When the water had warmed, Hank balanced the kid on his forearm and held her hair under the stream of water. He didn’t have any shampoo, so he pumped antibacterial hand soap onto her streaked mane.

  “I don’t think my mommy’s gonna like this,” she said tentatively, her eyes round with worry.

  Hank worked the soap into a lather. “If we’re lucky, she’ll never know.” He glanced over his shoulder every now and then to see that the rest of the class remained in their seats. He tossed another irritated glare at Sarah who stood statue-still, her hands dripping black paint onto the ugly carpet.

  Thirty minutes later Hank had washed away all signs of the paint. Julie’s hair glistened like spun gold. Sarah was paint free. And even the spot in the carpet looked its normal pukey yellow and green.

  Hank exhaled a mighty breath. Nobody moved...they didn’t even blink. The room was unnaturally and thankfully quiet. Good, he needed a moment to pull himself together. He dropped into the closest empty chair and scanned the little faces watching his every move. If this morning were any indication of how the rest of the week would go, he was doomed.

  “How about we finish our ABC’s now, okay?” The children snatched up their pencils and flew into the task as if their very lives depended upon it. Hank smiled tiredly. He had learned to laugh at the havoc these kids could wreak. He thought back to last month and his first few days as a kindergarten teacher. He had been outraged when Masters assigned him to the class. The first week had been disastrous. Hank had been on the verge of resigning.

  Everything that could possibly go wrong had done so that first Friday. Masters had made several unannounced visits at the worst possible moments. After her last visit, Hank had finally blown a gasket and had all twenty of the five-year-olds crying. At the end of his rope, he had sat down at his desk with his head in his hands, much like now. Between the crying children and the pounding between his ears, he had felt ready to explode. A small hand had tugged at his shirt sleeve and he had deserted his self-pity session long enough to find little Candi Johnson standing next to him.

  “Read us a story, Mr. Hank.” She held a Berenstain Bear book, tears still glistening on her cheeks.

  Too weary to make an excuse, Hank had sat in the floor in the middle of the room and read the story. One little body after the other snuggled up to him as he read. By the time he finished the story, he was completely surrounded by children. Candi had thrown her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.

  “I love you, Mr. Hank.” That simple, innocent gesture had melted his heart. He had been in love ever since.

  As much as he wanted to deny it, watching these kids triggered a distant yearning for kids of his own. Donna Jacobs came immediately to mind. The image of her belly bulging with child made his heart squeeze.

  A cold dash of reality slapped him in the face. Whoa, boy! That was a hell of a leap. One kiss and he already had her bearing his children. The woman had waltzed into town barely a week ago and already he was thinking long term.

  Man, he was in trouble here. Deep trouble.

  ~*~

  It was four o’clock before Donna pulled into her sister’s empty driveway. She leaned back against the headrest and relaxed for the first time that day. The electrician had finished at the clinic but the news wasn’t good. He had wanted to install a complete new breaker box, but Donna just couldn’t afford it, so he’d done the best he could with the old system. He couldn’t promise anything, as far as how long it would hold out. All she needed was enough time to get her head above water. She’d spent the afternoon touring the local hospital, which was thirty miles away, and meeting several of the county’s prominent physicians.

  The sound of a car pulling up next to hers roused Donna from her doze. Patty. Donna smiled and got out of the car, anxious to give her daughter a hug and, she quickly reached back into the car for the plastic bag, the goldfish she had picked up at Walmart. She sent up one last silent prayer that Goldie here would make Melissa forget all about a dog.

  “Hey, Sis, what’s up?” Patty asked from across the top of her sedan.

  “I just got back from the hospital tour in Winchester.” She scanned Patty’s car for her child. “Where’s Melissa?”

  Patty stared at her in confusion. “What do you mean? Isn’t she with you?”

  Fear slid through Donna’s veins. She shook her head. “I thought you were picking her up. I left a note at the clinic.”

  Patty’s face turned a whiter shade of pale. “I haven’t been to the clinic today,” she said thinly. “I picked the girls up early for dental appointments.”

  “Sam?” Donna offered
hopefully. “Would the school have called Sam at work?” Panic clawed at her throat.

  Patty shook her head. “He’s out of town today.”

  “Oh my God!” Donna jerked her car door open.

  “Wait!” Patty skirted the hood of her car. “If the school couldn’t get in touch with you, they’d call me. Let’s check my machine. My cell died an hour ago.” She pulled Donna toward her porch. The water and the goldfish sloshed in its plastic prison.

  “I should have called you before I left,” Donna muttered, fear twisting her insides. The faces of children on milk cartons flashed before her dazed eyes. Oh, God, she might throw up. She’d turned off her cell in the hospital, but no messages had appeared when she’d powered it back up.

  “Let’s not get excited until we know there’s anything to get excited about,” Patty offered. “This is Huntley. People watch after each other’s kids.

  Donna stared at her sister as she unlocked the front door. How could she be so calm? Patty had always been the analytical one—the one who could come through a tornado with every hair in place. Donna tied up in a hard knot of emotion when things veered from the straight and narrow. The only time she exhibited Patty’s uncanny ability to stay absolutely level-headed was when she practiced medicine. And this wasn’t one of those times.

  Patty pushed the front door open and her daughters rushed in past her. Patty only smiled and marched across the living room toward the telephone.

  Donna followed, her knees rubbery and her heart skipping and stumbling. Her mother had laughed long and hard when Donna had declared her intent to enter medical school. You’ll never make it, sweetie. You’ll lose it the first time they stick a hypodermic in your hand.

  But she hadn’t. Donna had excelled. She’d gotten invited to join one of Denver’s most prestigious medical practices. Too bad her mom hadn’t lived to see it. She would have been very proud.

  God, her mind was rambling. Donna forced herself to focus. Her baby was missing.

  Six voicemails after Patty had pressed play, the one they had been waiting for finally resonated from the machine.

  “Ms. Russell, this is Hank Bradley.” The burr of Hank’s deep baritone filled the room, raising goose bumps on Donna’s goose bumps. “Since I couldn’t reach you or Dr. Jacobs, I brought Melissa home with me. Hope you don’t mind, but I didn’t know what else to do. I left a similar message on the clinic’s machine. Catch you later.”

  Relief washed over Donna with such force that she had to steady herself against the back of the sofa.

  “See, everything’s fine.” Patty smiled, but Donna didn’t miss the relief that underscored her words.

  “God, he must think I’m a terrible mother,” Donna said on her way to the door. “I can’t believe I let this happen.”

  “It happens to every parent at one time or another,” Patty assured her. “See you bright and early in the morning!”

  Donna smiled faintly.

  “The new sign’s up at the clinic. It looks good,” Patty called after her as she hustled across the porch.

  “Thanks!” Donna waved a final good-bye without looking back. She slipped behind the wheel of her car, set the goldfish carefully in the passenger seat and backed out onto the street. She worked at slowing her respiration and pointed her car in the direction of Lucas Street.

  Another awesome day in the life of Donna Jacobs. Hank Bradley was about the last person on earth she wanted to see today. She had managed to conspicuously avoid him this morning. She’d dropped Melissa off at the door while Hank was surrounded by the usual crowd of moms who flocked to him like he was the last loaf of bread on the shelf before a blizzard.

  Well, he was handsome, Donna had to admit. And, of course, he had that to-die-for body. She couldn’t leave out the heart-stopping smile and skilled charm that made women swoon either. She supposed he would be considered a good catch, but Donna had her doubts as to whether Mr. Hank Bradley had any intentions of ever being caught. The man had probably never had a serious thought when it came to relationships in his life. From the looks of things, he could have any woman he wanted. The unwarranted attention he paid Donna was just his ego driven need to get what he couldn’t have.

  A challenge, that’s all she was to him. Well, he could just get over it. She’d had his number from the get go. Playboy. Football star. Hometown hero. “Blah, blah, blah.”

  Mr. Bradley would be doing himself a favor by directing that immense charm elsewhere, Donna wasn’t interested.

  She felt immediately contrite since he was the man who’d rescued her child today. She owed him one for that.

  She parked her car in front of the colonial-style house that belonged to Melissa’s teacher. She drew in a deep, calming breath and stepped out into the late afternoon heat. The weather was a little balmy for September. It would take a while to acclimate herself to the South, the Mile High City certainly didn’t have humidity like this.

  Unlike her place just three houses away, Bradley’s curb appeal was picture perfect. The nicely pruned shrubs and freshly mown grass put hers to shame. Donna hadn’t had time to cut her own grass or prune the shrubs, if you could call the scraggly plants in her yard shrubs. She would get to landscaping eventually. She had more important matters to attend to; like opening the clinic, paying bills, and buying food and clothing for a five-year-old.

  She stiffened her spine and rapped on his gleaming white door. Not a single fingerprint or smudge marred the pristine surface. Though Patty and Sam had applied a fresh coat of paint just before Donna’s arrival, already Melissa had left her mark on the front door.

  No answer. Donna rapped again, louder this time.

  She waited. A bead of sweat rolled down between her breasts. She pulled at the front of her dress to circulate a bit of thick air. Still no answer.

  A delighted squeal wafted to her ears across the all but nonexistent breeze. Melissa. Donna strained to hear it again. She stepped to the far side of the porch and cocked her head.

  Voices… she definitely heard voices coming from the back yard. She hurried off the porch and around to the side of the house. Tall, thick hedges stood like fortress walls and prevented her from seeing into the backyard. The seemingly endless mass of shrubbery had been cropped so precisely that not even a single leaf looked out of place. No wonder the man had such bulging biceps, it surely took hours to maintain this hedge alone.

  She could hear Melissa’s tinkling laughter and excited squeals contrasting with Hank’s raspy voice and rumbling chuckles. Donna’s heart lifted at the happy sound in Melissa’s little voice.

  Not once had she considered that her daughter would crave male attention. It simply never entered her mind. Did Melissa truly yearn for a father, or did she merely want to be like everyone else, to have a complete family.

  Donna reached into the bushes, parted the dense growth and stuck her head toward the sound of her daughter’s voice. She grunted and wiggled deeper. After a couple of slaps in the face and several scratchy encounters, she got her first glimpse of the scene in Hank’s backyard.

  “Football.” Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. The man was teaching her daughter how to play football!

  “Throw it! Throw it!” Melissa shouted. She ran with her arms extended in front of her in preparation for the catch.

  Hank tossed the ball and Melissa caught it. Donna couldn’t help the smile that curled her lips at her daughter’s obvious glee. The child clutched the ball to her chest and ran as fast as she could toward an imaginary end zone. Hank pretended to have difficulty catching up. When Melissa least expected it, he swept her into his arms and whirled her around. Their laughter pealed across the yard as he pretended to tackle her to the ground.

  Something cold and wet touched Donna’s naked leg. A blood curdling scream ripped out of her throat a half a beat after a cacophony of furious barking broke loose behind her. Donna hurled her body deeper into the hedge, away from what she now recognized as a dog. Probably huge. Probably rabid
. Probably a biter.

  She swam through the heavy sea of green that had swallowed her. Prickly limbs slapped, scratched and poked at her. Her dress was caught . . . she couldn’t get loose. She fought harder, flung herself at what she knew to be safety on the other side.

  At last, one arm broke through. The dog yelped like a banshee. Strong fingers suddenly wrapped around her free arm and jerked her upper body outward. Fabric ripped. Donna’s breath caught.

  “Dr. Jacobs, what in blazes are you doing?”

  Donna stared at Hank Bradley, fear, confusion, and humiliation running a race for first place inside her. “You didn’t answer the door,” she croaked.

  He surveyed her harried state and grinned. “Do you always spy on people in their back yards?”

  Donna struggled to stick one leg out, only to jerk it back when she realized her dress was hiked up to her waist. She glared at the man still clutching her one free appendage. “Only when they have my daughter,” she snapped.

  Hank fished in the hedge and snaked his arm around her waist. As if she weighed no more than a feather, he plucked her from the perennial jail. He held her against his massive chest with one arm and gingerly removed the leaves that had caught in her hair. Donna braced her hands against his wide shoulders. He smelled like fresh air and sunshine. His body felt strong and hard against hers…made her long to curl around him.

  God she had missed that feeling.

  His gaze collided with hers and the same longing she felt was right there in those blue eyes of his.

  When she’d found her voice, she said, “Put me down, please.”

  His arm tightened around her waist, making her breath catch yet again. “Damn,” he muttered. Rather than set her on her feet, he held her close, forcing her body to slide down his, inch by slow, hard, hot inch. Down his lean waist, over the thick bulge beneath his fly, against his strong thighs.

  When her feet finally settled onto the ground, Donna could only stare into his eyes. As furious as she wanted to be, she wanted to be kissed by Hank Bradley more than she wanted to breathe.