The sheriff closed his cell phone and strolled to the table. “Doc Peters is unavailable. His nurse said to make sure you had plenty of fluids. She thinks it might be altitude sickness.”
“Really, I’m feeling better,” she lied. Fear pumped through her veins like an adrenaline junkie. She didn’t need a doctor for what ailed her. She didn’t need the sheriff to take her to jail. And she most definitely didn’t need a lawyer to solve her problems. She needed a drama-free zone.
Matt nodded his head. “Ladies, the sheriff and I need to be going. Take it easy, Miss Brown.”
“Thanks.”
“Fran, if you need anything else, call me,” the sheriff said. “Good night, Miss Brown.”
“Night sheriff,” Fran called.
Valerie watched the two men walk out the door of the café into the frosty night. The snow shimmied from the sky leaving a white sheen on the roads.
She had no cash, nothing, with a blizzard blowing outside. She was a trust fund baby, a well-bestowed one, though little good it did her now. How did she get herself out of this situation without calling her daddy for help?
Chapter Two
Thank God, the legal boys were gone. Now she could talk to Fran about the bill. She could ask about a homeless shelter or emergency housing for someone with no money.
How could she have sunk so low as to even consider a homeless shelter? She shivered at the thought.
A tiny voice reminded her she could always call her father. But a stronger one reminded her how he’d taken Carter’s side and blamed her for her fiancé’s indiscretion. The memory still hurt. She didn’t need her father to solve her problems. The bus had dropped her in Springtown, and somehow she’d find a way to continue her journey away from her previous life.
The waitress hurried by, her arms loaded with plates. “Here you go, guys. Eat up. We’re closing in thirty minutes, and you boys need to get on home before the roads become impassable.”
“Fran, you sound more like my wife than a waitress,” a male customer responded.
“No, Jim, if I was your wife, you would be home, serving me.”
He laughed.
She swished by the table. “You need anything else, honey?”
Valerie took a deep breath, her pride in her throat. Never before had she been without money. “Yeah, can you sit with me for a moment?”
“Sure, sugar.” The waitress sank onto the chair and gazed at Valerie. “You’re in some kind of trouble, aren’t you?”
“Well…”
“I knew it the moment you fainted. You’re pregnant and running away from home.”
Valerie wanted to smile, but her lips refused to move. She was running away from a pregnancy, just not hers. “No.”
“Your boyfriend is hunting you.”
Almost. But more like her father and ex-fiancé, but that was too much information. “On the bus someone stole my wallet, and I didn’t realize it until just a few minutes ago before I fainted.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well. It had all my money, my credit cards. I have no cash, nothing.”
“Who can I call to help you?”
Valerie took a calming deep breath. No telephone calls. Plus her father still had access to all her accounts. She couldn’t pull one penny without him knowing her whereabouts. Unless she wanted him and Carter to arrive in Springtown, she had to remain broke.
For the first time in her life, she was penniless, and the realization she was on her own hit home with startling clarity. Yes, she was a twenty-two-year-old pampered trust-fund baby released into the world like a newborn chick without a clue how to survive.
“No one.”
“Sweetie, sometimes we get ourselves in predicaments where we have to swallow our pride and call someone to help us. I think you’re in that situation.”
“No calls.” She could hear her father scolding her about getting into trouble again. No, this time she would find her own way.
Valerie glanced at the door and saw the Help Wanted sign. Maybe that was the solution. Stay in this one-horse town, get a job, and work until she earned enough money to continue on her journey to Denver. How long could it take to earn enough money for a bus ticket?
Fran crossed her arms and stared at her. “Okay, what are you going to do? You can’t spend the night out on the streets. I mean, I won’t charge you for the meal, but it’s snowing, and you’ve gotta have some place to stay.”
“What about the Help Wanted sign on the door? I want that job.”
The waitress frowned and raised her brows, sizing her up.
“Don’t take offense, sweetie, but you look more like the type of person that hires people to wait on you.”
Valerie sighed. “I need the job.”
“I guess you do.”
“So will you hire me?”
“You sure you know what you’re getting into? I mean, being a waitress is not easy, and these boys delight in being cantankerous.”
“I need the money.”
“All right, you’re hired. Be here at five in the morning and prepared to work until two tomorrow afternoon. If you last the day, I’ll be surprised.”
God, that sounded like forever, but Valerie wouldn’t complain. At least this way she didn’t have to call her father. “Thank you. I can do this.”
“You ever been a waitress before?”
“No, but I’m a fast learner.”
“I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”
Valerie shrugged. Her choices were limited, and her pride refused to make that phone call. “Is there a homeless shelter where I can spend the night?”
The waitress leaned back and chuckled aloud. “Honey, we don’t have homeless here in our town. But I know of someone who’s looking to rent a room out. Let me call and see if she’s agreeable to taking you in.”
#
Fran’s car came to a halt in front of a two-story log home that belonged on the front of a Christmas card. Warm light reflected from the windows. Icicles hung from the eves, and smoke drifted from the rooftop. Valerie imagined a large family gathered in front of a crackling fire, drinking hot chocolate, laughing and enjoying one another. The kind of family she’d often dreamed of but never experienced.
Fran turned the car off, drawing Valerie’s attention to her. “Now, before I introduce you to McKenzie Palmer, there are some things you need to know.”
Foreboding trickled like a river fall through Valerie, and her overloaded sense of protection went on high alert.
“McKenzie’s husband died a year ago of a brain tumor. They diagnosed it, and before they had much time to say good-bye, he was gone. McKenzie’s still learning to cope with the loss of her husband. Not to mention being a single parent with twins.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Yeah, well, the worst part is he didn’t have much insurance, and it’s a struggle to keep the house and take care of their twins. So that’s why she needs a boarder.”
“She’s never done this before?”
“Nope. And I trust you not to steal her blind.”
“I have no need to steal…” Valerie stopped. Money was no longer just an ATM transaction away. Money she no longer had access to. Money she’d never done without. Broke, flat broke, and unless she wanted to crawl back to her father, she would remain broke. “I don’t steal.”
Fran smiled. “Good.” She opened the car door and hurried to the back where Valerie’s suitcases were stored. “Come on, this ain’t the Hilton and I’m not your bellhop.”
Valerie opened the car door and stepped outside. The icy wind tore right through her thin jacket to settle into her bones. What had possessed her to come to Colorado in winter without a coat? Her suitcase was packed with her new Caribbean honeymoon wardrobe. The three bikinis she’d packed were as useless as a parka in the Sahara.
Fran handed her one of the two suitcases, and Valerie carried her luggage through several inches of snow.
Gingerly, the
y made their way through the wet white ice particles and clambered up the wooden porch. While they were kicking the snow off their shoes, the door burst open, and a beautiful young blond woman with two blue-eyed twin toddlers wrapped around her legs.
“Hi, Fran,” she said, as she stared at Valerie.
Sad brown eyes stared at Valerie, and for a moment she forgot about the misadventure that had landed her in Colorado. Raw pain reflected from the young woman’s gaze.
Valerie held out her hand. “I’m Valerie Brown.”
“McKenzie Palmer,” she replied, taking her hand. “And these are my twins, Austin and Ashley.”
“Hello.” Valerie smiled at the children. They gazed at her with a curious expression.
McKenzie held open the door. “Come in where it’s warm.”
The two women carried in the suitcases and dropped them to the floor.
“Fran said you would rent me a room for one hundred dollars a week?” Valerie asked.
“Yes, plus any long distance charges on the phone.”
“Okay.”
“You’re awfully young,” the woman said, her gaze questioning. “Just so you know, I don’t allow any men in the room.”
“I don’t know anyone in town, so that’s not a problem.”
“Good. Follow me and I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”
The three women and two children climbed the stairs to a bedroom situated at the rear of the house. McKenzie led her into a soft yellow room with flowered wallpaper. A small bathroom was tucked into the eaves of the house.
“Nice,” Valerie commented, thinking that her room at home was twice this big with a Jacuzzi tub and separate shower. But that was a former life, and she was determined to live on her own terms, at least until the fiasco of her doomed wedding faded from the spotlight. A spotlight she’d never enjoyed.
“My mother-in-law used this room,” McKenzie said. “Six months ago she remarried and has her own home now.”
“Oh.”
“Girls, I hate to break up this tea party, but I got to get home and rest. Four o’clock comes awfully early.” Fran gave McKenzie a hug. “Things are going to be fine.”
“Yes, they are.”
“Missy, I will pick you up at four thirty sharp. Don’t make me honk the horn or pound on the door. Be ready and waiting.”
Panic seized Valerie as the one person who’d helped her was about to walk out the door and leave her alone. This all seemed so very strange. She swallowed to keep the panic at bay. “Thanks, Fran. How should I dress?”
The older woman chuckled. “Wear something you don’t mind getting stained. Food just seems to have a way of jumping onto your clothes during the day.”
McKenzie stood at the door to the bedroom. “I’ll see Fran to the door while you unpack. You can use the chest to put your belongings in, or the closet.”
“Thanks.” Valerie stopped for a moment and remembered, she didn’t have a cell phone. “Do you offer a wake-up call in the morning, or is there a service I can use?”
Fran burst out laughing. “Yeah, it’s called an alarm clock. Set it correctly.”
McKenzie shifted from the door to face Valerie, a small smile on her lips. “I have a spare one you can use.”
“Thanks.” Valerie realized with startling clarity that there were so many things about her old life that she took for granted.
#
Valerie would never be rude to another waitress again for the rest of her life. Her feet and arms ached. Her mouth felt tight from smiling, and she reeked of greasy fried foods. She felt like a smiling, soggy, french fry.
“Honey, table one is waving at you. They need something,” Fran prompted, a coffee pot dangling from her hand.
“A good lesson in manners,” Valerie grumbled, thinking she’d never worked harder for so little money. No wonder Fran thought she’d quit before the end of the day. But the image of Carter’s car kept her feet moving.
“They need a smile and more coffee. Watch and learn.”
Fran grinned brightly as she approached the table. “You boys need a refill?”
“Fran, my eggs are not cooked enough, and my bacon is tough.”
He needed some cheese to go with that whine or maybe even a waa-ambulance.
Valerie observed Fran frown at the older man who had complained nonstop since she’d waited on their table. He looked like Santa Claus with horns, only he’d lost his way back to the North Pole. She’d gladly find him directions if it would send him on his way.
“Now, Charlie,” Fran said gently, “if you’ve got a gripe with the cook, you need to talk to Todd.” She filled the coffee cups at the table. “You’ve been coming here long enough to know that, so why are you harassing my new girl?”
“Ah, Fran, we’re just trying to break her in right.”
“Well, if you don’t stop your whining, the next time you come in your eggs will have a new spice sprinkled on them. Arsenic.”
He laughed good-naturedly. “You wouldn’t do that.”
She raised her brows. “If you run off my help, I may just go a little postal, and I won’t be responsible for my actions. Now, do you boys need anything else? Do you want me to return your eggs to the cook?”
“My eggs are fine. I just wanted to rile that cute little miss.”
“Be nice, Charlie.” She whirled around and strode directly to Valerie.
“They’re just a bunch of good ole boys who know you’re new in town. Don’t let them get away with anything. Always turn the complaint back on them in a good-natured way. They just want someone to make them feel important.”
“Thanks Fran,” Valerie said.
“Don’t worry, honey. Soon they’ll find someone else to pick on. If not, come get me, and I’ll make the curve in the crack of their backsides jagged.”
So far this job had made Valerie feel even more disjointed than the rest of her life. Yet, in less than a minute Fran had managed to disarm the situation. She could charm the socks off a terrorist and sweet talk him into jail. A lesson Valerie desperately needed. “Thanks, Fran.”
“Hang in there, kid. You’re doing okay. Being a waitress ain’t the easiest job in the world.”
A surge of pride gave Valerie a boost of much-needed energy. Fran said she was doing a good job! Other than the temp job in her father’s law practice, this was her first real employment. And her father liked to regale his cronies with stories of her screwups in the office.
The bell above the door dinged, announcing a new customer. Valerie turned, ready to seat the latest arrival. She stopped in her food-stained sneakers at the sight of the one person in town she could have gone all day without seeing. Attorney Matt Jordan.
Her lawyer magnet clicked on and a tingle of awareness danced along her spine. No! With only seventy-two hours since her last relationship disaster, she mentally switched off the magnet. No more men. No more lawyers.
Still, he could have graced the cover of GQ or The American Lawyer.
Her heart danced a little mambo when he smiled at her and seated himself. Why couldn’t he be some ugly, slimy nerd she could easily ignore?
She strolled over to him. “What can I get you, Mr. Jordan?”
His green eyes reflected surprise, and her radar went on high alert. “Aren’t you the girl who fainted last night?”
“Yeah,” she acknowledged, her order pad in hand, he would just tell her what he wanted and forget the small talk.
“You feel better?”
“Much.”
“So why are you here? Last night you seemed determined to rent a car and drive to Denver. What made you decide to stay in town?” he asked casually.
He’d overheard her say she intended to rent a car? She didn’t know how to respond. Her pride refused to publicly acknowledge her financial situation. With only ten dollars in tips to her name, it was difficult to discuss money.
“I decided to try the small-town life for a while.”
He grinned. “Why would a
big-city girl like you decide Springtown was someplace you wanted to stay? And being a waitress? You don’t seem the type.”
Sometimes it was hard to resist the urge to answer stupid questions with an equally dim-witted response. So she didn’t.
“It’s my first stop as Miss America. I’m here to promote world peace.”
He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind, and then he laughed. “I guess that means it’s none of my business. I’ll take coffee.”
“Cream or sugar?”
“Just black.” He glanced at her shoes. “At least you traded in your heels for something a little more sensible.”
She lowered her order pad and looked down at the sneakers she had on. “Yeah, I didn’t want to stain my heels with food. My Jimmy Choo’s would not have lasted the first hour.”
“I have a shoe-aholic sister.”
“Really. Your sister likes shoes? I need to meet this woman.”
Valerie heard her rowdy table calling her and wanted to flip them the finger, but she wanted to eat more. “What can I get you, Mr. Jordan? I’ve got to wait on my other table.”
The attorney gave the other table a stern gaze. “Charlie, give the girl a minute to take my order.”
“You’ve had her for more than a minute already,” the man taunted.
Matt grinned. “I can’t help it if she’s attracted to my charm.”
Valerie shook her head. If she didn’t need the job, she would have told them both to kiss off. She was immune to Matt Jordan’s charms. He was a man. An arrogant lawyer. She didn’t need the aggravation and refused to respond to the comments from either table.
In a firm voice she asked, “I have your drink order. What else?”
Matt gave her his order and then watched as she hurried to the kitchen counter. She picked up the coffee pot, went to the table of rambunctious forestry workers, filled their cups, and smiled. They melted under the voltage of her curved lips. Her smile packed a thousand watts of pure charm, and every man at that table was affected.
What was this girl doing in Springtown? He could see her in Los Angeles or New York, but not a small mountain village on the edge of the Rockies.
She moved through the restaurant, the label on her snug Yanuk jeans that hugged her hips and legs riding low on her waist. There was a classiness about her that seemed out of place in a small town café. An air of worldliness and wealth that he guessed no university could teach.
The Wanted Bride (A Contemporary Romance) Page 2