by Jill Kemerer
A flash of red caught his eye. “Isn’t that Claire’s bike? What’s she doing home?”
Sally crossed to the side rail. “Sure is. I’ll go see.” Before Sally made it to the patio door, Claire had raced up the deck ramp. Her chest heaved and her eyes flashed. Her Garfield scrubs shouldn’t have made his throat go dry, but she could have worn a garbage bag and been the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.
“What on earth is wrong?” Sally asked.
“I got canned.” Claire practically throbbed with pent-up energy. Her dark hair fell past her shoulders in windswept fury. She marched to the table and sprawled in a chair. “Yeah, apparently I missed a nugget in a kitty-litter box—a gross oversight on my part, which didn’t even happen! I’ve never, never taken shortcuts. I know how to clean cat litter. Oh, and my ‘uppity attitude’ and ‘lax standards’ are no longer acceptable for Dr. Tammy.”
“What?” Aunt Sally’s voice reminded Reed of a red-tailed hawk screeching. “She’s had it out to get you ever since she started dating that cocky vet. It’s her problem you dated him first. Well, all I can say is she can have him. You’ve put up with her long enough.”
Reed wheeled closer to the table. Interesting.
Claire raised her hands to the sky. “When I think of all the degrading things she’s put me through. For her to fire me? She’d better not bad-mouth me around town the way Mark did, or so help me—” She noticed Reed then. “Oh, hi. Sorry. Having some drama here.”
He hadn’t been this entertained in some time. He flourished his hand for her to continue. “Don’t let me stop you.”
“I’ll make you a plate and you can tell me everything.” Sally scurried inside as Claire dropped her head into her hands.
“Sorry about your job.”
“Thanks.” Claire straightened. “I tried hard to make her happy, hoping she would see my effort. To get fired was a shock.”
Reed tensed. She wasn’t going to cry, was she? He didn’t do well with emotions, especially not tears. He scoured his brain for something to say to lighten the mood. “I can call some Chicago hit guys to rough her up. Say the word.”
The hint of a smile crossed her lips. “You’d do that?”
“Sure. I’m bored out of my mind anyhow.”
She let out a sigh full of despair. “What am I going to do now?”
“The zoo, right? Isn’t that the plan?”
She rubbed her forehead. “I hope so. The applications have been pouring in, though. What if I don’t get it?”
“You’ll get it.”
Tilting her head, she leveled a stare at him. “What if I don’t?”
“I can put in a word with your dad,” he teased. “He owns several car dealerships, right?”
Claire made a gagging gesture. “Never. I worked there as a teen. I’d rather bus tables at Pat’s Diner.”
She slumped again, looking as lost as a baby kitten without a mother. And the sight scrambled his head, made him think things he normally wouldn’t. Before he knew it, he opened his mouth. “Go online, see who else is hiring and fill out applications. In the meantime, you can drive me around town to take pictures for estimates.”
Hope lit her magnificent eyes. Too much hope. He swallowed. Painfully.
“You’re right. I’ll find a job. And if we could get estimates, Uncle Joe’s would open sooner. But...” She frowned, defeated once more, and stared at the table. “Aren’t you going back to Chicago in a few days?”
Reed had planned on it until this moment. His head yelled to get out of Lake Endwell while the getting was good. His heart, on the other hand...
“Nah, I kind of like this cottage. I’ll be on crutches soon, and I’m dying to go fishing. And I don’t want some hack builder talking the store owners into cheap remodelings. The downtown needs to maintain its historical integrity.”
“I worried about that too.” Claire picked at her nails. “Maybe I’m being unrealistic, but I want the downtown to look the way it always has.”
Reed nodded. “I know a few firms who would make sure they get it right. It’s not as if I have to be back to work. Not for almost a month anyway.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to help.” Her face glowed, the desperation he’d witnessed earlier completely erased. She covered his hand with hers. “Thank you.”
Awareness hit him. And dread.
This woman was dead set on giving him a superhero complex.
And he’d never been a hero. Didn’t have the qualifications.
He prayed he could escape before she found out.
Chapter Five
A knock on the door caught Claire off guard. The clock said half past nine in the morning. Who would be coming over this early on a Saturday? Not Reed. He couldn’t get up her porch steps in the wheelchair. Not Libby. She liked to sleep in, the later the better. And not her brothers— summer drove them out of the house at dawn to fish. Claire waited for whoever it was to come in, but...
Another knock.
Her black calf-length yoga pants, faded lime tank top and makeup-free face weren’t what she would wear for visitors. What if it was the eighty-year-old woman four cottages over who liked to stop by—Yorkie in hand—and stay for hours?
Claire cringed. Not the Yorkie. Not the hours of chatting. She opened the door a crack.
Reed stood on her porch. He lifted his eyebrows as if to say “surprise.”
Her mouth dropped open and she did a double take. He was out of his wheelchair!
“You’re on crutches!” She clapped, her nose crinkling. “Get in here. Tell me what happened. Did you have a doctor’s appointment this morning or something?”
“Nah, I have one Monday. Dale brought these over for me. Thought I’d want to try them.”
“But Dad isn’t a doctor. You could hurt your leg more. I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“So this is it, huh? Your private lair.” He pushed past her and thunked his way through the entrance to the sectional couch in front of her picture window. His heather-gray T-shirt had a Bears logo on it, and black basketball shorts skimmed his knees. “Don’t worry. I’m being careful.”
“My brothers have handed me that line too many times, Reed. I know better.” She waited to assist if he needed it. “At least stretch your leg out. This couch was made for lounging.”
“I plan on it.” He moved the crutches to the side, lowered his body to the couch and reclined back, satisfaction all over his face. “Ah.”
“Happy?”
“Yes,” he said. “You have no idea. I couldn’t take the chair of death another minute.”
“The wheelchair was that bad?”
“Worse.”
She chuckled, moving around the couch to prop a pillow under his foot. “Did anyone bring you breakfast?”
“Your dad. Ham-and-cheese omelet, toast and Sally’s strawberry jam.” He brought his hands behind his head.
“Dad didn’t bring me any breakfast,” she said. “I’ll have to have a chat with him.”
“Face it, he likes me better.” His playful grin, tanned face and warm brown eyes flipped her stomach.
She launched a pillow at him. “Actually, I think you might be right. It’s been ages since he brought me breakfast.”
“Watch the leg, there.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” She had no sooner finished speaking than the pillow hit her square in the face. She glared. “Playing dirty, I see. Using my sympathy against me.”
“I have to use any weapons I can.” His grin lit up his face, and her breath caught. This teasing should feel familiar since she had grown up with three brothers, but teasing Reed? Entirely too...everything. Extra elements mixed. Attraction. Excitement. Awareness.
“Uh-huh.” She flicked her fingernails. “
I’m glad to see you’re in less pain.
Reed studied the walls then the bookshelves. Claire assessed her house from his point of view. The white television cabinet contrasted with the pistachio walls, and she’d hung framed photos of her family next to black-and-white pictures of animals in the wild. Did he find it as cozy as she did?
“Nice place,” Reed said with an appreciative stare. “It’s...you.”
“Thanks. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere but here.”
“It’s mellow, comfortable. I could sit here all day. Actually, I might.” He folded his hands on his abdomen. “Hope you don’t have plans.”
He wanted to stay? All day? No objections on her part.
“How long have you lived here?” he asked.
“Five years,” she said. “I bought it from Dad after college.”
“Bought it?”
“Yeah, when you have as many brothers and sisters as I do, things get ugly if anything isn’t fair. We all agreed me buying the place was the best way to keep the peace. Dad set aside money for each of us to go to college, but I earned a full-ride scholarship. He insisted I take the money anyway, so it became my down payment. I got a great deal on my favorite cottage, the family had someone to keep an eye on Granddad and the Fourth of July always, always gets celebrated next door.”
“Independence Day. It’s not a small affair for your family, is it?”
She raised one knee to her chest and rested her chin on it. “Got that right. All the Sheffields and Perceys gather together. It’s a good time. You can’t miss it.”
He shook his head. “I’ll leave the fun for the Sheffields and Perceys. By the way, who are the Perceys?”
“My mom’s side,” she said. “A smaller bunch, but still a ton of laughs.”
“Do you ever get—” he drew his eyebrows together “—sick of being surrounded by family?”
“What?” She scoffed. “No. Never.”
“Huh.”
A subject had been heavy on her mind lately, but she didn’t know how to bring it up. Maybe being blunt was the answer. “Has your dad been over yet?”
His cheekbones strained against his face. “No.”
“I could drive you over there.” Why it bothered her that his dad wasn’t around, she couldn’t say. She knew Roger. A nice man. Quiet, but always friendly when Jake brought him and Barbara to family functions. So the fact that Roger and Reed didn’t talk made no sense.
The set of Reed’s jaw assured her he didn’t want to discuss it. A squeaking noise from the backyard made Claire hop up. “Do you know what you need?”
“A long nap?”
“Nope.”
“Do I want to know?”
“You need to meet my otters.”
He grimaced. “I’m not much of an otter person.”
“Everyone is an otter person. They are the cutest things. Just wait.” She loped to the back sliding door. Could he get down the three wide stairs using his crutches? Shouldn’t pose a problem. Then she returned. “If you can’t make it down to the lawn, I’ll bring them to you.”
“I can make it.” He slowly pushed himself up.
Opening the fridge, she searched for the hard-boiled eggs she’d shelled yesterday. The Ziploc baggie hid behind a jumbo bottle of vanilla-flavored coffee creamer. “Come on. You’re going to love them.”
Out in the sunshine, she waited for Reed to clear the door before closing it. He handled the steps easily and settled into one of her lounge chairs. She blew out a low whistle.
Hansel and Gretel raced her way, and Claire held an egg. Gretel bounced over, sniffing and raising herself on her back legs before snatching it out of her hand. Then she squeaked. Hansel followed suit.
Claire grinned at Reed’s paralyzed expression. “You can pet them. They’re lovable. Go ahead.”
Reed tentatively lowered his hand. Gretel sniffed it and bumped his palm with the top of her head. “Uh, Claire? What do I do?”
“She’s asking you to pet her.”
His lips curled down, but he patted the top of her head. “She’s soft.”
“Gretel has a velvety coat. Hansel’s is a bit rougher, but you probably wouldn’t notice.”
“Hansel and Gretel? Fairy tales, huh? I didn’t realize you were into happily-ever-after and all that.”
“Hardly.” She sniffed. Much like in the Disney movies she grew up on, when Mom died, life got complicated. As much as she wanted to believe in happily-ever-after, she hadn’t seen much evidence of it. “Fairy tales look great on paper. In real life, not so much.”
“Cynical.” He stroked the otter’s fur until it raced away to the tall grasses by the fence. “I wouldn’t have thought that of you either.”
“Why not?” She wasn’t cynical. She was realistic.
Reed rubbed his chin. “You’re...well...you seem happy. When you’re not losing your job.”
She laughed. Yesterday afternoon she’d helped Reed create a spreadsheet, and she’d personally contacted the owner of JoJo’s Jewelry as well as several other store owners. Most wanted to work with Reed, which pleased her to no end. The loss of her job stung less now that she was helping him and the town.
“Um,” Reed said. “What are they doing?”
Gretel burrowed into a patch of tall grass, and Hansel dove on her. They flipped and flopped, nipping at each other’s necks, and made more squeaking noises. “Oh, they’re playing. That’s how they bond.”
“Aren’t you worried they’ll hurt each other? I see teeth.”
Claire laughed, shaking her head. “No, if one gets too rough, the other lets him know. It won’t be long and they’ll curl up together behind the log.” She leaned forward, pointing at a small woodpile. “See how it’s close to the low wall of rocks? Their favorite spot.”
Reed studied the rest of the yard. “Do you have a dog?”
“No,” she said. “Only the otters for now.”
“Do your brothers have a dog?”
“Why?” Did he like dogs or something?
“Isn’t it obvious?” He made a point of staring at the assortment of squeaky toys, small stuffed balls and ropes strewn around the yard.
“Oh, the toys.” She chuckled. “They’re for the otters. They get bored, so I keep different things on hand. Like the pond over there.” She gestured to the water feature. “It’s deep enough for them to improve their swimming skills, but not too deep. The logs provide natural napping spots. The trees, shrubs and grasses give them things to hide in, but they still like playing with toys.”
He stretched his neck to see where she pointed. “Did you put the pond in for the otters?”
“No, Dad and I installed it two years ago. I originally thought I might keep turtles back here, so I oversized it and added a deeper section. I’m glad I did. It’s funny how God works. I planned on having turtles, but He knew two baby otters needed the backyard more.”
“I don’t know. You’re saying God knew all along you’d be taking in otters? That’s the real reason you put the pond in? What about your turtles? Aren’t you mad your plan changed?”
Claire considered before answering. “Sure, I like turtles, but these little guys mean so much to me. I want to work at the zoo so badly. Then I can see them every day. It’s going to be hard giving them up. Everyone told me not to get too attached, but I’ll be honest, detachment isn’t my strong suit.”
The otters dove in with a splash. After paddling awhile, they floated on their backs.
Claire tapped Reed’s arm. “Watch. Sometimes Hansel will take Gretel’s hand. It’s adorable.” Reed squinted at the pond. When one reached for the other’s hand, Claire lifted her shoulders, let out a laugh and smiled at Reed. “See?”
“I can’t believe it.” His eyes widened. “They really are ho
lding hands.”
“They’re besties.”
The intensity in Reed’s expression sent a waterfall of bubbles from her throat to the bottom of her stomach. While everyone who stopped by thought the otters were charming, she was ridiculously pleased Reed thought so too. Maybe it was because he’d shown the most skepticism about them.
“Who is your bestie?” Reed asked in a low voice.
She sank back into the chair and cocked her head to the side. “Good question.” She had lots of friends. But a best friend?
“Who do you go to when you’re having a bad day?” Reed added.
Put that way...
“Well, I get great advice from Aunt Sally. And if I need help with a project or fixing something, I call Dad. Libby makes me laugh. My brothers show everyone a good time.” But even as she talked, she frowned. She didn’t have a go-to person to share everything with.
“What about you?” she asked. “Who is your best friend?”
“I have a few buddies from work.” His gaze glued to a cloud floating by.
“Good buddies? Or work buddies?”
“John, my boss, is probably my closest friend. He’s not afraid to tell me the truth. Plus, he’s always believed in me. I like to prove him right.”
“You’ll be the best vice president the company has ever had.” Which reminded her...she had to stop feeding the attraction. He had a promotion to get to, and she had to nail the zoo job, help plan Libby’s wedding and make sure the otters enjoyed a smooth transition to their new home next month. A commotion from the deck had her whipping her head back.
“Hey, there you are.” Tommy and Bryan clomped down the steps. “We brought lunch.” Bryan held up two packages of hot dogs. “I’m firing up the grill.”
“Hot dogs? It’s ten-thirty in the morning.” Claire peered over her shoulder. “How many fish did you catch?”
“Don’t ask.” Tommy opened the grill and pushed the ignition button. At six feet tall, he was solid with wide shoulders and dark hair. Ninety-eight percent of the single, nonrelated females in the county hoped he’d give them a second look, but ever since his split from Stephanie a few years ago, he’d kept women at a distance. “What’s wrong with this thing?”