THE STARLIGHT HILL COMPLETE COLLECTION: 1-8

by Bell, Heatherly

  Well there was a story there, but Ivey didn’t have time for it this morning. First order of business: get Marissa on board. She’d then start referring midwives to the hospital for work, and everyone would be happy. Possibly not everyone, but perhaps most people. Good enough.

  “I was worried about you last night when I saw the broadcast. Where are you staying now?” Em asked as she poured Ivey some coffee.

  “Um, well, I’m staying at Jeff’s in the spare bedroom until I find another place.”

  Em didn’t bat an eye. “Isn’t he a sweetheart? I’m telling you, Dr. Garner would give the shirt off his back to any one of us.”

  Of course he would. He’s rather fond of taking his shirt off.

  She thought about those muscles, and what it might feel like to run her hand down his chest down to his crunch-worthy abs. To feel the strong beat of his heart under her fingers.

  “So what are you doing today?” Em’s voice jerked Ivey back to reality.

  She was sitting alone in the diner, thinking about her ex’s abs. Probably a bad sign. “I’m meeting a friend.”

  On cue, Marissa walked into the diner and waved to Ivey. But she wasn’t alone. With her was a beautiful Amazon of an exotic-looking woman at about 36 weeks of gestation, Ivey would say, give or take.

  Marissa made the introductions. The woman was Asia Foster, one of Marissa’s patients.

  “This is my first baby,” Asia said. “And I want everything to be right. Perfect. I’ve timed it down to a science, and I should be having the baby sometime tomorrow. That’s actually the anniversary of the first day we met. The labor will be smooth and progress swiftly, and then I’ll give birth right on my bed. My husband will hold my hand and recite a poem of his choosing right as our baby is born into the world.”

  Asia reminded Ivey of Jeff on steroids. The woman liked to plan too, and unfortunately would soon find out that babies did the planning. And didn’t tell you about it ahead of time. Not to mention the fact that according to everything Babs said, they continued to do that for the next few years of their lives.

  Ivey and Marissa exchanged a meaningful look, fine-tuned by midwives all around the world. How precious. First time mothers. Gotta love them.

  “What makes you think you’re going to give birth tomorrow?” Ivey asked.

  “Months of visualizing techniques. Works every time.”

  “So the problem is,” Marissa said, with a look that implied this would be no problem at all, “I’m going out of town tomorrow to visit my sister in Oregon. I hate the Grape & Wine Festival. All those people worshipping a vine. It’s ridiculous. So Asia is a little bit worried.”

  “A lot worried. You’re my midwife. Who knew you’d be taking off when I give birth?”

  “This is Asia’s first baby, and I’ve tried to explain babies have their own time table, and being that she’s barely now at thirty-eight weeks gestation, it’s highly unlikely the baby will come tomorrow. And I’ll be back Monday morning. But my idea, Ivey, is that you would cover for me while I’m gone. To ease Asia’s mind. Again, I doubt that the baby will come—”

  “Oh he’s coming,” Asia said with a slight whistle.

  Because Ivey had never met a mother who could determine her baby’s day of birth, she was 99.9% certain that covering for Marissa would mean maybe a phone call from Asia asking why nothing was happening and not much beyond that.

  “I’d love to. Don’t worry, Asia, if your baby—”

  “When, you mean.”

  “Sure. When your baby comes, I’ll be there.” Ivey leaned over to pat the woman’s hand, an empathy trick she’d learned from Babs.

  Asia’s eyes narrowed. “But you don’t look old enough to be a midwife.”

  “I’ve already gone over Ivey’s qualifications. She studied under a colleague, Babs Holiday. I trust her completely.”

  Fortunately, it didn’t look like either one of the women had seen the news last night or made the connection between Aunt Lucy and Ivey, or maybe they’d have other thoughts.

  To put Asia at ease, Ivey went over her experience and qualifications again. All the skills she’d put on the back burner for the past few weeks that she’d been back in town—first taking care of Aunt Lucy and now fighting for a job in a hospital. Fighting to be acknowledged. But it occurred to her that she missed bringing babies into the world. Even though Asia’s baby would not be arriving on her watch, she had to get back to the business of birth sooner rather than later. This was probably Marissa’s gentle way of reminding Ivey where her priorities should be, and she did have a point.

  Asia finally left with Marissa, reassured that her baby wouldn’t be brought into the world by an incompetent. Now Ivey could get to the grocery store and take care of someone else’s incompetence.

  “You’re kidding! But it’s for the kids! How can you do this to me on such short notice?” Em shouted into the phone. The diner did take-out orders, and Ivey wondered what kind of an order would elicit that kind of reaction. “That’s a fine how-de-do. Yeah, yeah. Goodbye.”

  Ivey picked up her ticket and swung by the register to pay. “What was that about?”

  “My niece informs me she can’t come down and help me with our booth at the festival like she does every year. Leaves me hanging the day before. How do you like that?”

  Ivey would be dropping by the festival, because that’s what people in Starlight Hill did. She’d make an appearance, say hello to everyone so they realized she wasn’t judging them for loving the vine, and then leave. Maybe she’d rent a movie afterwards or download another book for her Kindle. Great, she was starting to sound like the town spinster.

  Em was eyeing Ivey in a way she never had before, sizing her up. “Are you about a size six?”

  Ivey cleared her throat. More like a size seven. Her “girls” kept her from the smaller sizes, since they had their own zip code. “Er, about that. Why?”

  “I have to ask you for a huge favor. It’s for a good cause, and I know you’ll be perfect for it.”

  With that, Ivey braced herself once again.

  10

  “She has got to be kidding,” Ivey muttered the following day as she inspected the costume she’d promised to wear to the festival.

  She’d agreed to help out at Em and Si’s booth—some kind of Medieval theme—and that meant wearing a costume. Because she wanted to show how much she appreciated the town’s support, and also because it was a bit difficult to say no to Em, Ivey agreed to pitch in. It would mean that she’d meet some people at least, and wasn’t that what a woman intent on not being the town’s spinster should do every once in a while? Sounded like a good idea at the time.

  Big mistake. Unless the intent was to look like a Swiss Miss in a size-too-small top. That’s the last time you lie about being a size six.

  The tight, off-the-shoulder white top and black lace-up waist cincher pressed down on her like a vice, her body ready to bust out at any given moment. The red skirt was short, which would at least be a relief during the scorcher predicted today. The outfit was completed with a red scarf and fishnet stockings which were definitely not going on her legs. A girl had to have some pride.

  “You’re helping a friend,” she reminded herself in the mirror. She tiptoed out of her bedroom. If she timed things right, she could get out of the house before Jeff got a glimpse of her.

  No such luck, as she passed Jeff in the kitchen, drinking some of the milk she’d purchased. That same milk nearly came spewing out of his mouth. “Holy Swiss Miss. Wow.”

  “Stop staring. This can’t be a size six, or maybe it shrunk. This doesn’t fit,” she said as she pulled up on the top, glossing over the fact that she hadn’t worn a size six since high school.

  “Oh, it fits.” He grinned.

  Since he wore low slung jeans and a gray baseball team jersey, she got the message that he wasn’t on his way to work. “You’re not going to the festival, are you?”

  “I’m stopping by the hospital first, b
ut I’ll be there later.” He folded his arms and leaned against the kitchen counter. “The whole town goes to the festival. You ought to remember.”

  “Right. See you there.” She didn’t like that gleam in his eyes. It told her maybe there was something else. Something she didn’t know. But damned if she was going to indulge him by asking.

  Ninety degrees at nine in the morning was never a good omen, but there it loomed displayed on the trip computer of her SUV. August in California. Anyone in their right mind would be in their air-conditioned home, or seeking AC elsewhere. The rest of them would be at the festival. Drinking.

  Burt the police chief would be out tonight, making sure everyone took advantage of the free rides he provided in the back of his cruiser.

  Wine tasting booths from the local vineyards were set up all around the center of town, prepared to sell out of chilled white wine and even some of the red stuff—Cabernet or whatever. There were booths with oil paintings from local artists and handmade leather boots and belts from the Williamson family. Balloons and cotton candy for the kids and lots of beer on tap for the few people who didn’t do wine. In the distance, a crew worked to set the stage for the bands that would play tonight. Brooke would be in the crowd somewhere. Ivey hadn’t seen much of her lately.

  When she reached the diner’s booth, Ivey waved her arm from her top to the bottom of the short skirt. Si wouldn’t even look at her. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

  “You look great.” Em was dressed in a matronly Renaissance gown, more of what Ivey had in mind. Em caught her eyeing her gown. “You don’t want to be in this. It’s too hot.”

  But then Ivey saw another sign—a sign which caused her to hitch her breath and break out in a sweat that had little to do with the weather. No. Ivey picked up the small sign, waving it at Em. “What—–exactly—is this?” The sign read Kisses from Swiss Miss - $1.00. All proceeds go to St. Vincent’s Home for Unwed Mothers.

  “Isn’t it wonderful? My niece does this every year. It’s for a good cause, and with you being a midwife, I knew you‘d want to help out,” Em said with a straight face.

  “This is why you thought I’d be perfect?”

  “Consider it a compliment, dear. We always get the prettiest and best endowed girl we can find. Like I said, my niece, Miss California, couldn’t come out this year.”

  Best endowed? “I don’t like this at all.” She was no beauty queen and her endowments would get far too much sun in this getup. “Can’t I help you serve the food?”

  “It’s a kiss on the cheek, for goodness’ sake. I’m not running a brothel,” Em said with a laugh.

  If that were true, why did Ivey feel dressed to work in one?

  Before long, a line formed at their booth, and Ivey reluctantly settled in behind the counter.

  Sometimes an entire family came up to order, donating a dollar without collecting a kiss, but every now and again there was the random teenage boy standing in line. Ivey became nervous and self-conscious about her PG-13 rated clothing, and threw occasional pointed looks in Em’s direction. The boys were mostly perfect gentlemen as they turned their cheek for a kiss, and only later did she see them point in her direction, making her feel sixteen all over again.

  Adding to the feeling of being sixteen was noting Jeff in the line near the end of the day. Before long he’d somehow made his way to the front, skipping ahead of several customers with ease. Most of them seem to know and like him, calling him “Doc” and letting him cut in line.

  Jeff ordered Pirate’s Grog and a smoked-beef-brisket sandwich and paid Em. Then he handed Ivey a ten-dollar bill.

  “That’s very generous of you, but you can’t have ten kisses,” she said, taking the bill from his hand. “I think it’s against the rules.”

  “How about a ten dollar kiss then?” He grinned.

  Some of the men behind him whooped and laughed.

  “You can’t have that either.”

  “Be reasonable,” he said, pointing to his cheek and leaning in closer.

  People were beginning to stare at their exchange, including Em and Si. The bigger deal Ivey made out of a simple kiss, the more attention she would call to it. She’d have to play along even if the thought of kissing him made her knees feel like Jell-O on a hot day.

  “Fine,” she said, leaning forward. “A ten dollar kiss.”

  Her heart did a flip as she and Jeff drew closer than they’d been in years. She aimed for his cheek, but did not expect him to take her face in his hands as though he would be the one doing the kissing. Too late she saw him headed straight for her lips, but as their noses touched Ivey whispered, “Don’t.”

  Her tone must have been pleading enough, and his eyes gazed into hers with what seemed to be a quiet agreement and his lips turned toward her cheek. Ivey closed her eyes as his prickly chin touch her face, causing more shivers to run down her spine. He kissed her lightly on the cheek as one hand held the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair. His lips felt hot like a brand, and she prayed the soft moan hadn’t really come out of her throat. Time seemed to suspend and Ivey couldn’t stop herself from resting her hand on his shoulder. His very smell was too familiar, the memory of him far too intoxicating, until she forced herself to pull away.

  “There! A ten-dollar kiss.” She turned to find a small crowd staring, including Si, his jaw slack.

  Em slammed the Pirate’s Grog in front of Jeff, her lips a thin straight line. “No more ten-dollar kisses, Doc. Any more of that and the two of you need to get a room.”

  As dusk settled over the park and the band began to play, Ivey was issued a reprieve from her duties. After a moment to change into her well-worn jeans and tank top, Ivey headed out to the lawn with her blanket to find a good spot.

  Brooke was at the Serrano booth, serving up drinks with the same man who had spirited her away. The boss who had the hots for her.

  “About time you dropped by,” Brooke called out.

  “I’ve been busy helping at Em’s booth.”

  “So I heard. And saw the outfit.” Brooke grinned. “How’d you get roped into that?”

  “Don’t start with me. I didn’t know about the costume until it was too late.”

  “And knowing you, you weren’t going to bail on her at the last minute.”

  “Well, no.”

  “I’ll be working till we’re done here, but we’ll catch up later,” Brooke said.

  But Brooke seemed too caught up with the boss to want to spend any time with Ivey. And if it were really love, Ivey couldn’t blame her, except that from where she stood it looked more like lust than anything else. Brooke might well be the only woman who could keep her heart from being involved, but even so Ivey had her doubts.

  She found an empty spot to spread her blanket out and wait for the band to play, as all around her couples sat wrapped in each other’s arms. Maybe if she sat here for a while, she wouldn’t be alone for long. But alone or not, she’d be okay. Keep telling yourself that.

  * * *

  All right, so Jeff may have pushed a bit too far with the ten-dollar kiss. Only Ivey had the ability to turn him into a testosterone-driven horny adolescent. It hadn’t even been Ivey’s plea that stopped him from kissing her on the lips, but the sudden realization that he was about to set a precedent, and he sure as hell didn’t want anyone else paying for a ten dollar kiss.

  He stayed in the shadows, searching for Ivey. He spotted her sitting on a blanket, wearing jeans the way only she could wear them and a pink tank top that displayed the great rack that still headlined his fantasies. He wasn’t surprised to see she’d become a quick-change artist, but a little bit unnerved by how she still made his heart pound.

  Relationships weren’t like hitting the pause button and resuming again. Even though it felt that way at times—like no time at all passed. Like the whole separation had been a mistake.

  Was Ivey right about the fact that they couldn’t do this again? Did Ali make sense when she thought he
ought to stay away? No matter what his head said, his heart seemed to have other ideas. He’d never let it lead before, but maybe it was time.

  Ivey’s long dark hair caught a glint of the moonlight, but there was a slight problem with the picture. Mr. Williamson’s boy Jimmy, who had to be all of eighteen-years-old, sat with her on the blanket. Jimmy had hopes of touching heaven too, and Jeff almost felt sorry for him as he prepared to dash those dreams.

  “Hey, Jimmy. So, your mom is calling you. Something about watching your sister while they pack up,” Jeff lied as he emerged from the shadows. Something told him that Mrs. Williamson wasn’t going to object to some help with her youngest, and Jimmy would only look like a good son thanks to him. No harm, no foul.

  Jimmy’s face fell as he rose from the blanket. Ah yes, so close and yet so far. Sorry, buddy.

  “See you later, Ivey. Don’t forget my band is playing tomorrow night.”

  “Okay, Jimmy, I’ll be sure to clap the loudest.”

  Jimmy smiled as though he’d won the lottery.

  Jeff sat down beside Ivey. “How dare you? He’s a child.”

  “What? I didn’t do any—” Ivey protested. “Oh. You’re teasing me.”

  “I’m sorry, but you make it easy sometimes.”

  “That was a mean thing to do today. Do you know how hard it was for me to stand there looking like the town wench while teenage boys ogled me?” Ivey slapped his shoulder.

  “I know how hard it was for me,” he said.

  “You and your ten-dollar kiss.” Her words scolded, but her eyes were smiling.

  “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  Ivey turned her head toward the music again, as the band broke out into Lionel Ritchie’s song Truly. Couples began to slow dance to the song. Jeff sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, and his gut pinched with envy. He was so tired of being alone, so weary of the temporary nature of every relationship he’d had since Ivey.

  “So what made you go online to find the perfect love match?”

  She turned to him, her posture suddenly defensive. “Why would you ask me that now? Don’t you believe me?”