by Leger, Lori
“Did someone ask for a doctor?”
Air rushed from Melinda’s lungs as she threw the door open. “Tiffany! How did you know?”
The young blonde with large brown eyes laughed as her Nanny nearly squeezed the life out of her. “Greg called last week and asked us to keep it a surprise for you.”
“Us? Are you telling me Drake’s here, too?”
“Of course I am.”
She spun around to take in the sight of the tall, good-looking young man standing in the doorway. Despite the sandy brown hair that would curl if left long enough, his facial features resembled his sister’s. Three years younger than Tiffany, he’d inherited both his father’s height and athletic build.
“My favorite counselor!” Melinda threw her arms around him for a hug then stood back, gazing at the two young people she’d practically raised since they were infants. “I can’t believe you both came.”
“I can’t believe you’d think we wouldn’t, Melin,” Drake said. “You’re the nearest thing to a mother we’ve ever had.”
“At least one that liked us,” Tiffany added.
Melinda placed gentle caresses on each of their faces and smiled through tear-filled eyes. “I couldn’t love you two kids more if you were my own.”
Greg listened to the exchange with a sense of extreme satisfaction. Somehow, despite their hectic schedules, Melinda’s two “kids” managed to pull off their surprise visit without a hitch. It was just one more way he’d spend the rest of his life making up for lost time with Melinda. He finally gave his throat a loud clearing.
“If that’s you, Gregory, don’t you dare come in here.”
“I wouldn’t dare, babe, and I hate to cut your reunion short but Father Carlos says it’s time to get started.”
Melinda gave a squeal of delight. “Are you ready for this?”
He grinned at her enthusiasm. “I have been for a while.”
“Thank you for calling my kids, Greg.”
“I didn’t want you to walk up the aisle alone, and now you’ve got some company. I love you, Melin, and I’ll see you in a bit.”
Greg walked briskly through the long hallway that brought him to the front of the church. He took his place in front of the altar, standing straight and tall, and waited, never more anxious to see the love of his life than he was at this moment.
The strains of Pachelbel’s Canon in D began slowly, gradually filling the air with a multitude of strings. When the double doors finally opened, the music swelled, drowning out the appreciative gasps and comments of the two hundred or so guests filling the church. The photographer snapped pictures, blocking his view of the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Finally, the way cleared and he caught his first sight of her. He nearly choked on his own gasp of prideful appreciation at the beauty before him, draped in antique lace and satin.
She walked slowly to him, flanked on either side by Tiffany and Drake LeBlanc, both beaming with pride at their assigned duties. That plan had come to fruition beautifully, adding to the sheer look of joy on Melin’s face.
Totally worth it.
He knew her father’s death two months earlier had weighed heavily on his fiancée. His last wishes were that they go through with the wedding plans. “No more waiting” had been his last words before closing his eyes for good.
She took an agonizingly long time to reach him before shedding her escorts with warm hugs and tearful kisses. When she finally turned and focused on him, his heart nearly exploded with the happiness he felt.
“Finally. You’re here. And you’re breathtaking,” he whispered.
She beamed up at him, her eyes sparkling with happy tears. “Thank you, Greg. I love you so very much.”
He reached out with both hands to cup her face. “I love you too, and before we get started, I want to make this solemn promise to you.” His words were quiet, sounding almost sacred considering their location. “I vow to find our daughter, Melinda. If it takes every penny we have and up to my dying breath, I’ll find her.”
Melinda reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. “We’ll find her, all right. But we’ll find her together. Are you ready?”
He grinned, taking her hand and tucking it lovingly under his arm. “As I’ve ever been for anything. Let’s do this.”
Thank you so much for letting me share Melinda and Greg’s story with you. Please consider leaving me a review at your favorite e-book retailer and/or Goodreads. Reviews are a writer’s best friend. Even the bad ones if they’re constructive. Merci beaucoup! (Thank you, very much!)
~Lori Leger
Blurb for Brown Eyed Girl
Tiffany LeBlanc couldn’t wait to leave the social snobbery of her parents’ inner-circle-elitism in Houston, Texas. She worked her way through two Louisiana universities and stayed on to enjoy the joi de vivre lifestyle of the bayou state. She should feel optimistic about her future, but her cheating fiancé and controlling parents have the successful surgeon feeling anything but. A handsome businessman, with ulterior motives, has her wondering. Has she been settling?
Scott `Red’ McAllister comes from a large, hard-working, Scottish-Cajun family in a tiny south Louisiana farming community. He’s a highly respected businessman, owning one successful club in Lafayette, with a second under construction in Lake Coburn. Since he and the good doctor stepped off badly a few months earlier, Red has decided to steal “Doc” away from her unappreciative fiancé.
Red is completely baffled when one ominous phone call promising disaster, leads to others. A tragic fire marks the beginning of someone’s plans to ruin him, and keeps him wondering what he’s done to warrant the disastrous chain of events. He can’t be sure of anything. Not even a promising new relationship with “Doc”.
As happens in a family as large as Red’s, it’s natural to have at least one sibling’s drama overflow into his life. In his case, it’s two: Big brother Chad, and little sister, Annie.
Welcome to clan McAllister.
Cajun French Terminology
Beau – Handsome
cher ami – dear friend
Comment ca va? – How goes it?
se beausir – to become more handsome
mon vieux monde – my old folks
mon pere – my father
ma mere – my mother
allons danser! – let’s dance!
Non, non, non – No, no, no
Allons piquer, oui? – Let’s make love, yes?
Arret ca – Stop that
Cher – dear
Moi? – Me
Je connais pas – I don’t know
putaine – prostitute, hooker, whore
gros betaille – big scary creature
oui – yes
I feel ti peu (a little) sick to my stomach, but beaucoup (a lot or very much) sick at heart.
August 20th
He waited until the coffin had been lowered into the ground before tossing a single shovel full of dirt onto its surface. The rose he’d plucked from someone else’s fresh flower arrangement went next, landing with a soft thud on the dirt. He stayed a moment longer, not to pray. But to make a promise—a solemn vow that the bastard responsible for this boy’s death would pay—with his life—either six feet under or behind bars for the rest of his sorry ass days.
He took a step back and turned away from the coffin, contemplating his options. This obviously called for a little research and a lot of patience, both of which he was adept at pulling off. He slipped a toothpick from his pocket and popped it into his mouth, using his tongue to flick it from one side to the other. By the time he reached his truck, he’d already mapped out a plan for revenge. He slipped the key into the ignition and V-8 engine rumbled to life. He threw one last glance at the gravesite and shook his head. The little shit had been a worthless piece of crap for the most part, but he’d been the only family he had left in this world. No way would he let one asshole off the hook without paying—and paying dearly for what he’d taken from him.
Octob
er 25th
Bill Broussard’s ranch
Giselle & Jackson Broussard’s wedding reception
Damn, but he’d kill for a smoke right now. He flicked a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other, trying to stave off the urge. Number one rule of surveillance—never do a damn thing to call attention to your position.
The groom’s best man, Scott “Red” McAllister, laughed and carried on with the other wedding party revelers like he didn’t have a care in the world. “If only you knew your world is about to come crashing down, you son of a bitch. And I can’t wait until you’re wondering what the hell hit you, and where it came from.” Satisfied with visions of the future pain he’d cause him, he relaxed in the shadow of the century old oak and watched the man whose life he was about to ruin. He slid another toothpick between his teeth and grinned, anxious for the kill, wishing today was the day to put his plan into action.
Red’s gaze kept shooting over to one blonde in particular. She’d arrived with another guy, but he knew that wouldn’t stop McAllister if he wanted her. Up until now, McAllister hadn’t paid any particular attention to one woman. He grunted with satisfaction. If this bitch turned out to be someone special it would make his mission much easier—one more thing to use against the self-righteous bastard. He studied the woman carefully for future reference and flicked the toothpick over his tongue as he turned away from the crowd. He made his way, almost certainly unnoticed, back to his vehicle—already itching to get his plan started.
He’d had to play it safe. He’d nearly stretched his patience beyond his own capabilities. But it was finally beginning to pay off. Nearly everything was in place, and soon, very soon. McAllister would begin to pay the price for what he’d taken from him.
Tiffany LeBlanc skirted the edge of the dance floor while scanning the group of wedding guests for her missing fiancé.
“Come on, Tanner. Where the hell are you?”
Her grumble spurred more from disappointment than anger. After a month of taking on an injured colleague’s patient load in addition to her own, she was ready to relax and have some fun. She hadn’t intended on spending the entire reception watching everyone else dance while she warmed the chair seat.
A moment after she muttered another low curse, she heard the masculine clearing of a throat from behind her. She swung around and stared up into the captivating blue eyes of Red McAllister, the groom’s best man. The man she’d taken to calling “Sir Hunkalot” in the private confines of her mind’s vivid imagination.
“Dr. LeBlanc, would you like to dance?”
His voice, deep and alluring—the black designer tux elevated his already buff good looks at least a notch or two up the sexy as hell ladder.
She faltered a bit at first before reaching out to his extended fingertips. He took her hand as she stood, led her to the dance floor. His large hand on the small of her back caused an immediate sense of awareness, sending chills up her spine. By the time they reached a clear spot on the floor she had to force herself to breathe. He captured her in his strong embrace and led her masterfully to the soulful crooning of Percy Sledge singing When a Man Loves a Woman. She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly.
Relax, Tiffany. He’s just a man—one who’s not your fiancé.
“The doctor can dance.”
Somewhat startled by his words, Tiffany gave him what she hoped was a nonchalant nod. “She can, when she has the opportunity. You’d think as few chances as we get to cut loose, Tanner would be by my side.” It amazed her how easily they fell into step. Despite her and Scott McAllister’s sketchy first meeting back in August, she couldn’t deny the pull she’d felt in his presence since then. She’d thought about him often over the last few months. Every instance had resulted in her feeling, in turn, guilty—then determined to try even harder with Tanner.
Not that it had done any good. Despite Tanner’s constant urging, she was no closer to setting a wedding date today than she had been two years ago when they’d become engaged. When anyone, including herself, asked what she was waiting for, she drew a complete blank.
She supposed the Cindy Lou Who in her was hoping Tanner would stop chasing other women before they built their life together. Her inner Grinch suspected he never would. Living with Tanner had proved to be an extreme challenge without the marriage license. She couldn’t see life with him getting any easier. What she wouldn’t give for a peek into a Gypsy’s crystal ball right now.
Red moved Tiffany smoothly around the dance floor, showing off his skills. If nothing else stayed with her about this evening, he wanted her to remember how well they danced together. He’d thought about her often over the last few months, although he’d only had the opportunity to see her a few times since Jackson’s hospital release. Her image had invaded his thoughts no less than several times a day, not to mention the nights.
He passed his right index finger lightly over the huge diamond she wore on her left hand. He hoped to make enough of an impression on her today to have her question her engagement to Tanner. No way did he want to see her married to that asshole.
As though thinking of him conjured the devil himself, he suddenly spied her missing fiancé walking toward the barn and stable area. Something about Tanner’s body language caught his attention—kept him from mentioning his presence to Tiffany. He moved stealthily, casting furtive glances around as if to make sure nobody followed him. Red scanned the area around the stables, caught sight of his youngest sister, Annie, disappearing into the structure. She’d always been an animal lover, so of course she’d want to check out Bill’s livestock. He suspected Tanner’s trip to the barn was for completely different reasons. By the time the song ended, Tanner had already reached his destination.
Itching to interfere, Red walked Tiffany back to her seat. “Thanks for the dance, Doc, but there’s a little something I need to tend to.” He rushed to the stables, still reeling over how good it felt to hold Dr. LeBlanc in his arms.
He hit the entrance just in time to hear his younger sister’s angry objections.
“Stop it, asshole!”
Red homed in on her voice and turned into the last stall. Just in time to see Annie throw every ounce of her tiny, plus or minus one hundred pounds into a slap to Tanner’s face. Before the man had a chance to recover she tripped him and shoved him down into a pile of hay.
“Don’t you have a fiancée?” she snarled.
“Yes he does, and she’s been looking for him.” Red stepped forward surprising both Annie and her would-be-molester.
Annie spoke up, her voice calm, unruffled. “I can take care of myself, big brother.”
Red nodded at his sister. “I can see that, but I have a vested interest in this. Tanner here is the reason I wasn’t invited to Jackson’s first wedding fifteen years ago.”
Annie turned on the man still on his butt in the hay. “You’re that asshole? If I’d known, I’d have done some real damage to that pampered face.”
Red walked slowly toward Tanner. “Please, Sis, allow me.”
Tanner scrambled to his feet and backed up to the rear wall of the stall, He raised his hands, clearly concerned. “If you damage my hands, I’ll sue!”
Red shook his head slowly. “I won’t touch your hands.” He swung with his left fist and connected with Tanner’s jaw.
“Crap, Scott!” Tanner gingerly felt his jaw as though feeling if it was broken. Satisfied that it wasn’t, he looked up. “Okay, I’d say that evens things up, wouldn’t you?”
Red smiled. “You wish, asshole. That was for Annie. I’ve waited fifteen long years for this one.” He hit him square in the nose with a powerful right.
Tanner swore as blood gushed from his nose. “Son of a bitch! You broke it!”
Red looked down his nose at Tanner. “You deserve worse than that, but I don’t want to ruin the wedding. If you go out there and make a scene, I may reconsider.”
Tanner pressed a handkerchief to his nose, as Red took Annie’s arm gently and
turned her toward the exit.
“Oh, one more thing,” Annie said, pulling out of Red’s grasp. She stepped in front of Tanner and with one lightening quick move, had him on his ass again—this time in a pile of fresh horse manure.
Red burst into laughter. “Damn girl, that was cold.”
“Hmm, I don’t know.” Annie stared at the man struggling to rise from the ‘muddy’ surface. “It looks kind of warm to me.”
Red smiled as he watched his sister’s approach. “Somebody’s kept up with her self-defense classes.”
“Religiously.” Annie flashed her brother a grin as they headed out the stall and towards the door.
“Could you at least get Tiffany?” Tanner called out in a muffled, nasally voice.
“That’s the plan, asshole.” Too late, Red realized he’d spoken loud enough for Annie to hear. His youngest sister’s head whipped around to face him.
“You really like her, don’t you?”
He shrugged, trying to make light of the situation. “I don’t think she deserves to be saddled with a fool like Tanner, that’s all.” He cringed at her next words.
“Bullshit! You’re crazy about her.”
Hoping to sway her, he tried to change the subject. “Did you see any new foals in the stable?”
“Are you in love with Tiffany, Red?”
He stopped to glare down at the diminutive clone of his mother. “No, I’m not, and quit trying to make more of this than what it is. I want Tanner to suffer, that’s all.” He snorted, disgusted at his sister’s knowing grin, all too aware of what it would mean for him. He walked away from her then shook his head at the sound of her reciting an old jump rope song from when she was a kid.
“Scottie and Tiffany sitting in tree—K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
He lifted his head to call back at her raucous laughter. “You’re such an infant.”
Back at the reception, a word to his club DJ assured immediate play of two specific songs. That done, he turned to where Tiffany still sat, scanning the crowd for her missing fiancé. He approached, extending his hand. “Dance with me, Dr. LeBlanc?”
Her eyes softened, crinkling at the corners. “I will if you call me Tiffany.”