by Merry Farmer
“Sir, that’s really not how—”
“Listen, sweetie.” His voice went hard. No more mister nice lounge-lizard. “Your job depends on you finding something juicy to sell papers. Culpepper is as dry as burnt toast. You do this or you can kiss your desk in the newsroom goodbye once we get back.”
Nancy sighed, her shoulders drooping and her steps becoming heavy. “All right, Mr. Studebaker.”
“That’s Stu to you, tootsie.” Just like that, the slippery lizard was back.
“Stu. I’ll do what I can.” Nancy forced the words out.
“That’s my girl. I’ll see you back at the hotel later.” There was so much suggestion in his voice that as soon as he ended the call, Nancy yanked the phone away from her head.
“Eew, eew, eew! I really don’t like that man.”
“Then why are you still working for him?” Faith asked as they neared the bakery.
Nancy sighed, slipping the phone back into her purse. “It’s the only newspaper that would hire me with my lack of experience.”
“Well, if you ask me, there are better places to work than for some gross guy who makes you call him Stu,” Faith assured her.
“Maybe,” Nancy replied, trying to smile.
But if she was referring to Sly O’Donnell’s vague offer to do something newspaper-y in Culpepper, could she really make that leap? And if she did, how would she handle living in the same town as the man who had turned her head then let her down?
3
Two days later, Nancy sat with her butt wedged into the narrow windowsill, legs propped against the counter, in the cramped space of Culpepper Confectionary Creations, tapping her pen against a blank notebook. A light drizzle was falling outside the window she stared through, but it wasn’t doing much to cut the heat.
“I hope it doesn’t rain for the Fourth of July,” Felicity Quinlan commented as she brought a tray of expertly decorated cookies out to the display case. Nancy sat up and paid attention, mouth watering at the colorful treats. “I hate it when picnics get rained on.”
“Not to mention the work everyone is putting into that horse race,” Grace added from the back counter where she was piping roses onto a birthday cake. “I know Honor will be crushed if she can’t race her horse and beat all the guys.”
Grace and her cousins giggled. Nancy took that to mean there was some sort of inside joke about Honor and beating men. Or maybe Honor and horses.
“My boss will be furious,” she said.
Grace, Felicity, and Patience glanced over to her. They hadn’t exactly been ignoring Nancy for the last hour that she’d been sitting there, balancing her work on her knees in the three feet of space between the counter and the wall. Since she’d finished the coffee and scone she’d ordered when she came in and had done nothing but sit and wait, she’d begun to blend into the décor.
“I think I ran into your boss yesterday when I was buying supplies in town,” Patience said. “Short guy? Like, really short? Going bald? Gold chain?”
“That’s him.” Nancy rolled her eyes. “He’s so determined to win the Culpepper Stakes. He thinks it’ll gain him admittance to all these breeder clubs back in Louisville that he wants to belong to.”
“Does he have a chance?” Grace asked.
Nancy shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not really that into horses.”
Although she had tried to be after the last time she was in Culpepper. After all the promise things with Doc had shown, she’d gone home and studied up as much as she could about horses and what large animal vets did. All that cramming so that when Doc called she’d be able to carry on an intelligent conversation with him, impress him, maybe make him want her more.
Fat lot of good that’d done. She sighed and slumped, debating sitting on the floor and staring out the window as the rain picked up. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Doc hadn’t been ten times hotter than she’d remembered him. Maybe it was the fact that it was summer and he’d been wearing a t-shirt this time—a really tight t-shirt that showed off all his muscles—instead of a button-down flannel. Or maybe it was the way she’d built things up in her head. Built them up and then had them all come crashing down.
Why hadn’t he called her? They’d gotten along so well. Doc made her feel butterflies where no other man had. He was the sort of man that made her understand completely why the Quinlan Quads would rush out to Wyoming to marry men almost on sight.
“Earth to Nancy.”
With a start, Nancy blinked herself out of her reverie. She put her feet on the floor, stood fully, and turned to find Grace, Patience, and Felicity all staring at her with varying degrees of grins from the other side of the counter. Had they been trying to talk to her while she was out drifting in the clouds.
“What?” She tried to play it cool, picking up her dropped pen as if she would scribble some notes.
“Nothing.” Grace’s lips twitched as if she was trying not to laugh as she went back to decorating her cake.
“Just…you know.” Patience hid her face by bending over to arrange fresh muffins in the display case.
“Oh, come on, guys. Why tip-toe around it?” Felicity leaned across the counter, her grin as wide as the Wyoming sky. “What’s his name?”
“His name? Whose name?” Nancy’s face heated. She pretended to get lost in thought, setting her notepad on the counter and leaning over it like she might write. “Hey, when did you guys get the idea to start a bakery in Culpepper?”
Her question was met by suspicious silence. Felicity stood and walked back to the counter where another tray of cookies was cooling. Grace cleared her throat and turned the cake she was working on to start a rose from another direction. Patience was left to answer.
“We’ve always been good at baking, but our parents were the sort who thought that women should only use their cooking skills in the home to please their parents, and later their husbands.”
Nancy snorted, glad the pressure was off of her. “I know all about that.”
“You do?” Grace asked, focused on her work.
“Yeah, my parents were part of a pretty strict church. Not a normal church either. One of those hateful little cults that give good Christians a bad name.”
The girls hummed in understanding.
“I got out when I was eighteen,” Nancy went on.
“Good for you.” Felicity smiled as she crossed to the refrigerator to get a carton of milk.
Her smile and the supportive feeling she got from the others—the same supportive feeling she’d gotten from Faith from day one—kindled a yearning in her heart that she’d been trying to avoid. Culpepper really would be the perfect place to relocate to. She already had friends and potential friends. But did she really want to live so close to the guy she thought she’d be able to give her heart to? The one who’d squashed that heart? She’d have to watch him date other women, maybe get married and have children.
“How about this,” she blurted, gripping her pen hard and forcing those thoughts away. “Why don’t I interview the three of you about starting up this bakery? I’m sure there are readers out there who would love to hear all about the trials of starting a new business and getting away from a stifling influence like your family. That’s the kind of inspirational story people like to hear.”
“Sure,” Patience said with a shrug. “Sounds cool.”
“I’m in,” Grace added.
“What would you write it for?” Felicity asked.
Good question. Nancy puffed out a breath, leaning against the wall. “Culpepper doesn’t have a newspaper.” She spoke her thoughts aloud. It would be great if it did. “Sly O’Donnell said something about putting one together and hiring me to…to do something for it.”
“Did he?” Grace stood from her work. “That’s interesting.”
“Sly O’Donnell has been trying to make changes all throughout Culpepper since he got here,” Patience said. “Or so Hope was telling me.”
“Change can be good,” Felicity arg
ued. “We’re change, after all.”
“Well, until that’s decided, why don’t I get your guys’ story?” Nancy shifted to face Grace, Patience, and Felicity more fully as they worked.
“You know who you should interview,” Felicity said before Nancy could ask any questions.
“Who?” Patience answered.
“Sly O’Donnell, of course.” Her suggestion was met by wordless sounds of agreement from Grace and Patience. “He’s new in town,” Felicity went on. “And since he’s trying to make all these changes, he should at least explain himself.”
Ideas began to pop in Nancy’s mind. “I’ll be honest. Stu, my boss, sent me down here to stake out the place in case Jesse and Valerie Savoy show up. He’s heard they like your treats. He wants me to get some sort of scandalous scoop on them.”
“Well, you’re not going to find that with Jesse and Valerie,” Grace said, a little defensively.
“I know.” Nancy raised a hand to let Grace know they were on the same side. “But it dawns on me that they’re new in town too. Maybe they’d let me interview them the same way I’m interviewing you guys and Sly O’Donnell.”
“Oh, that would be nice.” Patience smiled. “You could do like a who’s who and who’s new newsletter for Culpepper.”
“Exactly.” Nancy brightened.
“I wonder if Rikki would let you interview her,” Felicity asked, tilting her head do the side.
“Rikki?” Nancy asked.
Grace, Felicity, and Patience exchanged looks.
“Valerie’s sister,” Patience told her. “She’s hanging out in Culpepper for a while to, you know, get away from things.”
All at once, the story of Valerie Dobson’s sister, Rikki, being kidnapped sprang to Nancy’s mind. “What happened to her was so awful. I’m glad she’s found a safe place to be.”
“She works for us,” Grace added. “She’s off today, though. But I’m not sure she’d want to be interviewed,” she said to Felicity.
Felicity shrugged and went back to work.
“I wouldn’t want to impose on her,” Nancy said. “But I don’t have those qualms about anyone else. I think this idea actually might work.”
Maybe her day wasn’t going to be miserable after all. Maybe she could get things done, contribute to the town she liked so much, and think deeper about moving there. Maybe she could—
The bell over the bakery door jingled, and a wet Doc dashed inside. Nancy’s heart hit her toes and bounced up again, setting in a region that was a little too far south for her comfort.
“Whew! It’s really starting to pick up out there.” Doc wasn’t wearing a hat, and when he ran a hand through his dark, wet hair, Nancy had the sudden urge to leap up and lick all the extra rainwater from his body. “I should have brought a—”
He froze as he pivoted and saw Nancy standing at the far end of the ridiculously narrow space in front of the counter. Staring at him.
Nancy leaned toward the counter, grabbing her pen and notepad, scrambling to look busy. She hadn’t started writing anything yet, so all she really succeeded in doing was looking like a spaz.
“Hi.” Doc greeted her, his voice tight.
Remember, he never called. He’s not interested. He was snappy yesterday. Don’t go there again.
Her frantic warnings to herself were no good. Nancy glanced up, smiling and blushing in spite of herself. “Hi.”
Doc’s mouth did something funny—like a cross between a smile and a hiccup. “What are you doing here?” he sidled closer to her. The bakery seemed more cramped than ever.
Nancy peeked down at her notepad. “Working?” It would have been a much more believable statement if there was so much as a dot on the paper.
“Huh.” That was it. That was Doc’s only response.
He shifted his weight, running his hand through his hair again, looking like he wanted to say something. Behind him, Grace, Patience, and Felicity had left what they were doing to lean against the counter, as if watching their favorite TV show.
The prickles that raced down Nancy’s spine were worse than having a foot fall asleep. How could he just stand there and look so…so dreamy? How could he have such a spark in his eyes when he had been the one to dump her…before there was ever anything to dump her about. She’d given him her phone number, so why hadn’t he called? Why hadn’t he called? Why hadn’t he called?
“Why didn’t you—”
“So where’s Stu?”
They spoke at the same time.
Nancy’s mouth snapped shut and she jerked straight. “Stu?”
“Yeah.” Doc shrugged. Behind him the bakery door opened with a jingle. “I would have thought you’d bring your bo—”
“Ah! Nancy! Sweetie. There you are.”
Every last bit of the exciting, sizzling energy that had been building up in Nancy’s gut crashed and burned as Stu slipped up to her, his standard lizard smile on his face.
“Stu,” she said, the word dripping with disappointment.
Doc took a big step back. As he did, Stu slid behind Nancy. He put one hand on the small of her back and leaned over the counter as if looking at her work. Work that didn’t exist. But his breath against the back of her neck did exist. It was minty-fresh, which was worse than garlic and onions, as far as she was concerned. It meant he expected something. Her skin crawled.
“So what’ve you got for me, toots?” he asked.
It was all Nancy could do not to cringe and run. She peeked up at Doc, dreading to see what he thought. Sure enough, he wore a deep, puzzled frown. He crossed his arms, staring at Stu as if he were a frothing, rabid rattlesnake…if rattlesnakes could even be rabid or frothing.
“I haven’t had time to actually write stuff down, but I had a great idea.” She leapt away from Stu and down the counter so that she could have Grace, Patience, and Felicity for back-up. “My new friends here gave me the idea that I could do a series of interviews with all the new people in Culpepper.”
Stu straightened and sniffed. In the time he had been standing by her side, a distinct bulge had formed in his pants. And he had been standing right up against her, close enough to sniff her, just seconds before. Eew, eew, eew!
“Eh, I don’t see any angle in it.” Stu shrugged. “No one’s really interested in those warm-fuzzy human interest stories anymore. And who gives a f—” He cursed, and Nancy’s brow flew up. “—about the losers in this place anyhow. Except maybe Jesse and Valerie Savoy. Oh, and I just found out Rikki Dobson is in town.”
“Excuse me.” Doc interrupted just as Stu was finishing. “There are ladies present.”
“So?” Stu shrugged.
“So I’ll thank you not to use language like that.”
Stu sized Doc up. He was a good eight inches shorter, but like a little yippy dog, Stu’s size had never gotten in the way of his bark. “Who the f— are you?” Nancy squeezed her eyes shut as he used the word again.
“Doc O’Donnell.” Doc crossed his arms, stood with his feet apart, and looked like he might just strangle Stu and dig a hole out back to hide the body.
“So what?” Stu blew him off and turned to Nancy. “Come on, doll-baby. We got real news stories to cover. You can chit-chat with the locals and write some blog post on your own time.”
“But I—”
“Nobody’s gotten an interview with Rikki Dobson since she got herself snatched.” Stu talked right over her. “You’re gonna go out to Jesse and Valerie Savoy’s ranch and track her down, even if you have to break through a window and hide under her bed to do it.”
“I’m not going to do that,” Nancy protested, horrified at the very idea.
Stu rounded on her, pointing a finger. “Look, sweetheart.”
He didn’t get any further than that. Doc grabbed his arm and yanked him away. “Hey. How can you talk to her like that?”
Nostrils flaring, Stu whipped to face Doc. “Who the f— do you think you are?”
Doc didn’t answer right away. Ins
tead, a slow grin spread across his face. “You’ve got a horse entered in the Culpepper Stakes, don’t you?”
“Yeah. What’s it to you?”
Doc crossed his arms. “My brother is the guy organizing the race. One word from me, and I can have you disqualified.”
“On what grounds?” Stu narrowed his eyes. Nancy knew that look. It was the one that everyone in the office dreaded, the one that usually ended up with someone being fired.
“I’ll come up with something,” Doc replied ominously.
Stu snorted into a laugh, calling his bluff. “You couldn’t.”
“I could.”
“You think? I could bring you down, boy.”
Doc’s brow flew up and his eyes went dark with fury. “In your dreams.”
“Yeah, and in yours too. I could bring you down so hard even your subconscious couldn’t imagine you winning at anything ever again.”
“So this is about winning, is it?”
“Everything is about winning,” Stu spat.
“Fine. I won’t get you disqualified from the race. I’ll enter it too.”
Stu laughed, the sound and the look on his face ugly. “Fine. Go ahead. Enter it. I’ll still kick your ass.”
“Right.” Doc’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “You’re going to need to invest in hot sauce after I crush you.”
“Why?” Stu frowned.
“Because you’ll eat so much of my dust that you won’t be able to taste food ever again without it.”
The corners of Nancy’s lips twitched to a grin. She liked him. More than ever. She wished her colleagues back in Louisville could see the way he set Stu down. If things were different, she would have jumped into his arms and given him a big, fat, victory kiss.
The thought deflated her in an instant. Things weren’t different. He still didn’t want her. She hid her disappointment by saying, “Personally, I think it would make a great story to see you in the race, Doc.”
Doc blinked and pivoted to her. “You think?”
He studied her with that unreadable look that made her insides do flips, even as they were melting. She forgot to shield the heated admiration she felt for him, and as he studied her face, looked into her eyes, his expression changed. For one glorious moment, he looked at her like she was one of the bakery treats and he wanted to devour her. Then confusion took over, quickly replaced by cold, hard resolve. He turned back to Stu.