Heather

by Chris Keniston

  Her face still tilted up to the sky, she merely shook her head.

  From the way she’d run off the list last night, he’d figured as much. Pushing to stand, he bowed at the waist and extended his arm. “May I have the honor of this dance?”

  Big round eyes blinked up at him. Anyone would have thought he’d asked her to go skinny dipping. Blinking a few more times, she shifted her gaze to the nearest cabins on one side and then to the lake on the left.

  “I promise I won’t let you fall in.” He tried not to fidget waiting for her response.

  The hint of a smile teased at one side of her mouth. “I know that. It’s just…”

  “Just what?”

  “Well.” She looked across the creek to the source of the music. “I’m not really a very good dancer.”

  For a moment he wondered if she’d ever been dancing at all. Had she ever put the books down long enough to enjoy herself in high school? “If I promise not to step on your feet will you give it a shot?”

  Eyes filled with a plethora of emotions studied him, until finally she accepted his hand and slowly stretched to her full height. “I may regret this.”

  He certainly hoped not. Twirling her easily against him, he skipped circling his arms around her the way he would have done at a high school dance and opted for the traditional one hand at the small of her back and the other holding her hand in the air beside him. He swayed slowly to one side and back, relieved when the stiffness in her spine relaxed a bit. “See? You’re a natural.”

  That made her head tip back with laughter. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

  Pulling her just a hint closer, he spun them around and when she stayed in step with him, he grinned down at her. “I think maybe you’re the one whose pants are smoking.”

  Her one brow shot up in surprise.

  Too late he realized there could have been a better way to say that. “You dance beautifully.”

  “Thank you.” There was just enough moonlight above for him to see her cheeks pinken slightly and the pleased twinkle in her eyes.

  The music stopped as suddenly as it had started and he found himself desperately wanting more time. Neither one moved. Not to sway, not to dance, not to separate. Like a magnet drawn to true north they remained joined, unable to pull apart. His pulse hummed to its own tune and nothing could stop him from what he wanted to do next.

  ***

  “Woof.”

  Lifting his gaze from his laptop and still steaming cup of coffee, retired General Harold Hart took note of Lady at the edge of the porch. Sarge dutifully sat beside him, strategically situated so his hand would be at just the right height to scratch behind the dog’s ear if the urge struck. The sound of Sarge’s other half had the loveable golden on alert.

  “Woof,” Lady barked again, her head turning from the distance to where he sat and then back. If the tail weren’t wagging rapidly, Harold would have been concerned something or someone unwelcome had breached the perimeter. Not that they had a fence enclosing the family land, but still, the dogs knew better than he did where his land ended and the neighbor’s started. When Sarge trotted away to join Lady at the railing, it was almost enough to make Harold pause his messaging on social media and get up to see if it was a squirrel or raccoon that had the attention of both animals, but the conversation was just getting interesting and he had no intention of giving it up for a night crawling critter.

  “Woof,” Sarge sounded and turned his head from Lady to master. Apparently both dogs were bound and determined to have him come see whatever was lurking around for himself.

  “Okay.” Harold posted TTYL, logged off, and stood, reminding himself dogs were man’s best friend, even at the climactic moment of a military thriller.

  Almost smiling, Sarge panted and set his tail to wagging faster than Lady’s.

  “All right. What critter has your…. Well, well.” If not for the moonlight it might have taken him longer to notice the silhouettes in the distance—dancing. “How about that?”

  Lady woofed and moved around so the retired general was flanked by a dog on either side. Together the three watched the couple gently swaying in the distance. Harold smiled. Wouldn’t this make for interesting conversation next time he chatted with Gene.

  Harold’s firstborn grandbaby was one helluva surgeon and he couldn’t have been prouder of her if she’d single handedly cured all heart disease, but even boots on the ground soldiers got some R&R. Setting a hand atop either dogs’ head, he gently patted them. “Glad someone around here still has sharp eyes.”

  Before settling back into his favorite chair, he glanced from the dogs still staring intently at the shore, tails wagging double time, to the shadowed figures in the distance.

  “Stall tactics?” His loving bride of decades came to stand beside him.

  The woman always could read him like a book. “Just admiring the view.”

  “You know you can’t put her off forever.”

  Of course he could. He hadn’t made General in the Marine Corps by being soft.

  “And if she corners Doc Wilkins…” her words hung.

  That might be more of a problem. Unless he could drop chaff. Sometimes all a person needed to distract a dog after steak was a good bone.

  His Fiona linked her arm with his. “They do make a nice couple.”

  “That they do,” he agreed, “that they do.”

  ***

  How long had it been since Heather had been kissed? She had no idea right now. As a matter of fact, the way Jake’s lips gently pressed against hers, she wasn’t sure she had really ever been kissed. Once again music streamed from the open window across the creek. This time she recognized the tune as Al Green’s, “Let’s Stay Together.” Her heart beat in rhythm to the soulful tune, and right about now, she wanted to do exactly as the lyrics encouraged, good or bad, happy or sad, she could stay together this way for pretty darn near forever. His head tilted slightly at the same second his arms pulled her closer and all thought slid away. In a warm haze she leaned into him. The one thing she was sure of, she had most definitely never been kissed like this before.

  The murmur of voices in the distance grew closer. Annoyingly closer. The sound finally loud enough for Jake to sigh against her lips and slowly ease back. “I, uh,” he took a step in retreat, “probably should not have done that.”

  Still heady from the thrum of sensations due to a single mind-blowing kiss, it took an extra beat to process his words.

  His gaze, etched with concern, studied hers. She could almost see the stream of thoughts rushing around in his head. One in particular must have won out, because the corners of his mouth tipped up in a hesitant smile. “Since you haven’t hauled off and hit me, I’m going to admit, I’m dang glad I did.”

  Violet’s voice rang out, “Ooh, are we going to have another bonfire?”

  Surprised to see Violet approaching by herself, Heather looked around for the other voice. It took a second to realize Vi held her phone in the palm of her hand face-up. Speakerphone. Though she supposed that was better than having had Violet walk up in silence and catch them in a very public display of affection. Affection? She took another step back. Affection? “No,” she muttered, “not a bonfire.” At least not the traditional kind. “Just tying up the boat. We still need to deal with the General.”

  “That’s right. Too bad.” Violet slid the phone into a back pocket. “That was Rose. I’m not sure things are going so well with this new exhibit.”

  “She said that?” Heather took a step in her sister’s direction, her concern for her other sibling shaking her mind clear of how her lips still tingled. She focused on Violet’s approach.

  Rose was the perfect combination of Violet and herself. The woman never met a stranger. She could schmooze with the Queen of England and not bat an eye. Five minutes with her sister Rose and Ebenezer Scrooge would be donating his entire art collection. Hard-working, diligent, detail oriented, and amazingly efficient, she was equally comfortable re
laxing on the deck chair with a good book as she was in a business suit with a tight deadline. She rarely asked for help and Heather couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard her sister complain. About anything.

  Violet shrugged. “Not in those exact words but I could feel the negative vibes coming off and read between the lines.”

  Reading between the lines gave Heather reason to frown and contemplate the situation. As much as the family made fun of Violet for her white noise, contemplative tendencies, and excessive concerns with mother nature, the woman’s gut instincts when it came to reading people and situations—or auras as she called them—were sometimes surprisingly good. On the other hand, Rose’s ability to handle difficult bosses, difficult situations, and difficult clients left Heather wondering if Violet was reading too much into whatever their sister had said. She certainly hoped it was the latter.

  “Well.” Jake sucked in a long breath and pivoted around. “I’d better get going. Having me around might give the General an excuse to get out of an exam.”

  Heather wanted to shout no, stop, wait, lets talk, but the practical common sense side of her that had always given a situation its due diligence snatched the words from her mouth and she merely nodded.

  “Sure you don’t want to stick around for a bonfire after the big showdown? I bet I could rustle up a bottle of wine.”

  Jake shook his head. “Wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

  “Nonsense,” Violet answered quickly. For a woman who was so proud of her aura reading skills, she was failing miserably at sensing the awkwardness that sprang up between Jake and Heather like a sudden squall over a tempestuous sea.

  “I really do need to go.” He cast a glance in Heather’s direction and shoving his hands in his pocket, kicked at a large pebble. “See you tomorrow?”

  “Yes,” she blurted before her practical side could filter her enthusiasm.

  A sweet smile took over his face and her lips tingled once again. What was she getting herself into?

  “Yoo-hoo.” Violet waved her hand in her sister’s face.

  Blinking, Heather dragged her gaze away from Jake’s departing back and turned to her sister. “Sorry, my mind wandered.”

  Violet stared toward the circular drive where Jake was climbing into his car and smiled. “Yeah, I can see where a girl wouldn’t mind doing a little wandering around that particular piece of real estate.”

  “Violet,” Heather scolded, though she had no idea why since her sister had only said the truth.

  “Don’t get all nose out of joint around me. I know there’s a red-blooded female hiding somewhere under that all-business doctor’s white coat of yours and if Jake’s the one to uncover her you won’t hear any objection from me. He’s one of the genuine nice guys.”

  “He is, isn’t he?” Her gaze drifted back to the house and the now empty driveway.

  “Uh oh.”

  Heather spun around to fully face her sister. “Uh oh, what?”

  “I’ve seen that look before.”

  “What look?”

  “The one you had after a tour of Stanford. After looking at about half a dozen med schools closer to home, you spent one lousy day at Stanford and decided that was where you wanted to go.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Shaking her head, Heather turned on her heel and started up the path to the house. She had a medical exam to perform on one stubborn retired general.

  Violet followed on her heels, laughing. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

  “I repeat,” Heather paused looking over her shoulder, “what are you talking about?”

  “Being the oldest, for a long while we all thought you would be the first to fall in love, but being the one who hasn’t had a personal life in… well, forever, I didn’t expect you to be the first to fall.”

  Shaking her head again, Heather continued on track to the house. Her sister had totally lost her mind. She was turning into the old busy bodies in town. The merry widows known for playing matchmaker with all the singles since the dawn of time. “Have you been nipping at Grams’ brandy? People don’t fall in love in three days.”

  “Nope. Only takes a minute.” Grinning impishly, Violet began humming the Tavares tune.

  Lifting her palms skyward and slapping her hands back to her side, Heather shook her head. Life was not like some oldies disco hit. There was no point in arguing. Her sister had simply lost her mind. Maybe it was being at the lake with Lucy singing and humming old matchmaking songs that had reverted Violet to her romantically delusional teenage years where good looks were confused for perfection and hormones for love. Maybe Jake was a nice guy, a really nice guy. Maybe he made Heather’s heart thunder against her ribs with just a glance. And maybe she should find out what the heck was wrong with her grandfather and get her derriere back to the hospital where she belonged. Maybe.

  Chapter Ten

  “About time you got back.” Cindy looked up from the kitchen table. “We almost sent out a search party. Coffee’s past cold.”

  Poppy looked over her cousin’s shoulder. “Where’s Jake?”

  “He went home.” Heather pulled out a chair and plopped down beside her cousins. “He didn’t want to get in the way of our plans for the General.”

  “No,” Callie snickered, “mustn’t do that.”

  Heather frowned. “What’s she laughing at?”

  Standing closest to Callie, her sister Cindy elbowed her. “Nothing.”

  Nothing Heather’s left foot.

  Biting back a grin, Lily opened the oven door and pulled out a tray of fresh meringue cookies and set them beside another batch on the island. Spread out was an assembly line of sorts: eggs, chocolate shavings, powdered sugar, and at the end a finished plate of the wonderful meringue confections. “I almost burned the last batch thanks to you.”

  “Me?” Heather reached for one of the cookies.

  “Lady and Sarge kept barking,” Lily focused on moving the cookies from sheet to cooling rack, “so Callie went to go look.”

  “And of course,” Cindy grinned, “I followed.”

  Cookie halfway to her mouth, Heather’s stomach did a sudden somersault.

  “And I shooed them all back inside.” Poppy raised a cookie to Heather the way she’d toast with a glass of wine. “But it wasn’t easy.”

  “We had to see who won.” Cindy grabbed a cookie.

  Heather didn’t like the sound of that. “Won?”

  Empty baking sheet in hand, Lily set it aside and starting separating egg yolks and whites, looked up to her cousin. “The bet of course. You didn’t think you could get all romantic on us and not have folks taking bets. I mean seriously,” she returned to cracking eggs, “it’s better than speculating on the Kentucky Derby. Personally, I’m thinking this has potential for a triple crown win.”

  Heather wasn’t sure she wanted to know how anything in her life could be related to a triple crown in horse racing, but then again she wasn’t a believer in ignorance was bliss. “I give up. I’m not a horse. What are you talking about, Lily?”

  “Well I’d say dancing in the moonlight definitely constitutes a win. I mean,” Lily looked up at her sisters and cousins, “when was the last time any of you got to dance anywhere, never mind in the moonlight?”

  Staring at Heather, everyone present grinned like Cheshire cats and shook their heads.

  Lily started hand whipping the egg whites. “There you have your Kentucky Derby win.”

  “Oh for heaven’s sake.” Heather pulled a stool out from under the island with her foot, grabbed another cookie, and plopped heavily on the seat. She could tell this conversation was going to take lots of sugar. “Don’t be ridiculous. It was just a silly dance. Y’all did it all the time when you were teenagers.”

  Cindy tapped the tip of her nose as if they were playing charades. “And you’ve touched on the magic words. When we were teenagers.”

  “Wait a minute.” Violet waved her arms at everyone. “They were da
ncing?”

  “Oh…yeah,” Callie and Cindy echoed. Heather just looked up and nodded.

  “I take one short walk to answer one phone call and I miss the one time my big sis has probably ever danced at the lake.” Violet blew out a huffy breath of air and sank onto the seat beside her sister. “Not fair.”

  “Ohh,” Callie reached for a cookie, “it gets better.”

  This time Heather’s stomach did a triple flip. The puzzle pieces coming together and the picture coming into focus. Crud.

  “Better?” Violet’s brows dipped into a confused V.

  “Oh, yeah.” Cindy bit into the meringue and groaned with delight. “I suppose if I don’t have anyone to suck face with these are a pretty darn good second place.”

  “Why do you think I’m baking on a Friday night?” Lily tossed her sister a frustrated glare. “I haven’t been on a date in so long I don’t think I can remember when it was. And I’m not joking.”

  “It was Alan Peterman, from the bank.” Poppy poured herself a glass of water. “Two years ago at the Fourth of July barbecue.”

  Lily glanced at the ceiling, “Oh, yeah. Another one of Lucy’s fix ups. Probably why I don’t remember. And thank heaven he took that promotion in Cincinnati.”

  “Wait a minute,” Violet cut in, waving her hands in front of her and spun to face her sister. “You kissed him?”

  “The Preakness.” Lily waved a meringue covered fork at Heather.

  “Holy…” Violet grabbed a cookie, a clear sign of how distraught she was. The woman never touched anything that was mostly pure sugar. “And I missed it.”

  “You’ll have to promise to tell us how the Belmont goes,” Cindy stood and grabbed a drinking glass, “cause you’d better not be doing that on the Point.”