Читать книгу Hometown Hearts - Jillian Hart - Страница 8

Chapter Two

Somehow his feet carried him to the door as if he were in a daze. Maybe it was the heat wave sucking the moisture from his body and dehydrating his brain. That had to be it. His sweaty palms gripped the door handle with a slight slide. Embarrassing. Maybe he could attribute that to dehydration, too.

“Uh-oh. Dad’s here.”

He recognized the dour tone in his oldest’s voice. She was, after all, practicing to be a teenager.

Air-conditioning breezed over him as he released hold of the door. It swooshed shut behind him and an angry yowling protest rose from a cat carrier on the floor nearby. A dog bounced up from his sprawl on the floor to bark a ringing welcome while a frizzy-haired woman tried to gently shush him, to no avail. His gaze shot to Cheyenne against his will like an arrow to a target.

He’d never seen her up close. Even more striking. She had a sloping nose, a wide smile that would make movie actresses envious. With her high cheekbones, golden sunny complexion and a willowy grace, she made a breathtaking picture as she rose from kneeling before Julianna’s chair. The vet’s white jacket might make her look professional, but she glowed with a cheerful joy that had a beauty all its own.

He wasn’t captivated, really. He could look away if he wanted to, except his eyes didn’t seem to be cooperating.

“Daddy!” Julianna bopped to her feet, bounded across the tile and wrapped her arms around his waist. The four dogs in the waiting room barked in excitement, eager to join in. The cacophony was deafening. His daughter’s big brown eyes peered up at him, fringed by long dark lashes and her thick, flyaway bangs. “Please don’t be mad anymore. I’ll stay in my room every evening after supper with no toys. I p-promise.”

His heart caved. “I don’t see the use in sending you to your room if it doesn’t change your behavior.” He tweaked her nose, at a loss what to do with the girl. “I’ll have to think of something more effective.”

“I could give up desserts?”

Hard to stay mad at that little face. He steeled his resolve, trying not to be too lenient and also not to give in to his anger from the worry she’d caused him.

“She shouldn’t be deciding her own punishment, Dad.” Jenny sauntered up. Her dark eyes hadn’t lost the look of pain and anger at her mother, but the stay in Wyoming had helped to ease it. She gave an I-so-don’t-care scowl and flipped a lock of her hair. “I don’t get to decide my punishments.”

“I’ll think of something fair.” It was all he could promise. His neurotransmitters weren’t firing correctly because of the woman walking toward him. She had the power to suck the oxygen from the atmosphere and all rational thought from his brain. It only got worse with each step she took closer.

He couldn’t tear his attention away from her. He noticed things about her he’d tried not to see before. Her hair was lighter than he’d thought, full of russets and golds and strawberry-blond shades as it fell in soft tendrils from her French braid. Gently swooping bangs framed the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. From a distance, she’d been beautiful. Up close, she was stunning in a gentle, natural girl-next-door way.

“Dr. Stone.” She plunged her hands into her jacket pockets and offered him a professional smile. “At last we meet.”

“There was no way to avoid it.” He heard his voice boom low as if with dislike and internally he winced. He wasn’t proud of the tone. After his divorce, he had put up so many walls, and he didn’t like that about himself. He automatically wanted women to keep their distance so he wouldn’t be duped like that again.

She didn’t seem to know what to say. She opened her mouth, hesitated, bit her bottom lip for a moment. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You have the most wonderful girls.”

“You don’t know them like I do.” Those words had sounded lighter in his head, but on his voice they seemed to weigh down like iron. Unlikable, remote, unfeeling iron.

“Daddy, Tomasina’s better.” Julianna bounced away to hold out her hand to one of the nearby dogs. “Cheyenne says she has a good chance. If she lives, we can put her back in her nest.”

“Her mother won’t take her now,” he blurted out, realizing too late what he’d said. He prayed his comment wouldn’t remind the girls of what they’d lost. A mother who had only part-time interest in them.

“Actually, that’s not true.” Cheyenne Granger looked all too happy to correct him. “Julianna knows where the nest is, so we should be able to return the baby to her home. Once Tomasina is back with her siblings, she should be just fine. They are probably looking around the nest wondering where she is.”

“Or saying she shouldn’t have misbehaved, which made her fall out of the nest in the first place,” Jenny supplied with a faint grin. “I have a lot of experience with siblings.”

He ruffled Jenny’s hair. “That’s a relief. Under no circumstances are we keeping a bird in the house.”

“It wouldn’t be right to keep her locked up,” Julianna informed him. “God meant for her to fly in the sky. She would be sad in a cage.”

“That’s right.” Cheyenne’s gentleness drew his attention.

There was something luminous about her and he had noticed it before. When he’d seen her last, she had been wearing a bridesmaid’s dress at the family wedding he’d attended a while ago. He couldn’t forget the way she’d stood out to him above all the other women in the room. He was not so good with words, which had been one of Stacy’s greatest complaints about him. His lack of words became a problem again as silence settled in, but the beautiful veterinarian didn’t seem bothered by it. She knelt to catch Julianna’s chin with both of her slender, gentle hands, a show of affection that surprised him.

“You keep right on helping animals. You call me anytime, got it?” She was at ease with his daughters, sharing a smile with Julianna and then with Jenny.

“Okay, I will. Animals just find me.”

“More like you find them,” Jenny corrected and shared an understanding smile with Cheyenne. He appreciated her kindness to his girls.

“Adam, this visit is entirely on me. You won’t be billed.” She opened and held the door for them. “Julianna and Jenny did a great job of rescuing Tomasina and getting her here safely. They saved her life. You must be proud of them.”

“I suppose I’ll keep them. For now.” He caught each girl with one arm and drew them outside into the sun and heat. He should thank the lady for her help and her gentleness to his daughters, but he wasn’t sure how that would sound. Too grateful, too familiar—would it open himself up too much?

Silence settled between them. He couldn’t ignore the wall he put up between himself and women. It was a gut reaction he didn’t know how to stop.

“Saving lives must run in the family.” Cheyenne raised a hand to shield her eyes.

“I don’t save anyone.” The words came out harsher than he meant them. Again.

“What do you mean? You saved little Owen’s life. Last winter you didn’t have to get involved when he was having problems breathing at the diner. You could have gone about your dinner, minding your own business, but you got involved. Since Owen is about to become my nephew at the end of the month, my family thinks mighty highly of you.”

“That’s because they don’t know me. Give them time and they will change their minds.” The girls broke away from him to scamper off to the car.

“You’re mighty humble for a big-city doctor.” Cheyenne squinted up at him.

“I’m not so big or humble. I do what I can, just the way you do. Life matters. That’s why I work hard at what I do.”

“Me, too.” Their gazes met and locked. Finally, she’d gotten an almost smile out of him. Adam Stone towered above her at an impressive height; he had to be about the same six foot three as her dad.

Handsome would describe him, but remarkable would be a better word. His granite face was a tad too rugged to be classically handsome, but he could outshine George Clooney and all the doctors on any medical show she’d ever watched. He wore all black from his tie to his dress shoes. Since Wild Horse was a casual place, Adam Stone was as out of water as a fish could get. He didn’t look like a kindred spirit, yet they had this in common. They both valued life; they both fought for it.

“I like making a difference and knowing I can ease suffering.” She walked with him to his door, squinting in the sunshine. “Is that why you decided to become a doctor, too?”

“I’m in it strictly for the money.” The promise of a smile dug into the corners of his mouth, dazzling enough to light up his deep brown eyes. “That’s why I came out here for the rest of the summer. Manhattan wasn’t lucrative enough.”

“Yes, and I can see Wild Horse is.” She had patients waiting, but did her feet take her back down the walkway? No. They remained stuck to the concrete, immovable. “Your workday must be a lot more leisurely here.”

“I had three appointments all day, which gives me plenty of time to get to know my new patients. It’s a change of pace.”

“I already know my patients before they walk in the door.”

“You are one of those animal people, aren’t you? You can’t walk past a furry creature without stopping to get acquainted.”

“You have no idea.” The man radiated the emotion of a mountain—solemn, somber, closed off—except for his dark eyes. Sadness lived in them, veiled and shadowed but there all the same. She didn’t know why she could read all of that. “I’ve been this way for as long as anyone can remember. Dad tells stories of me helping him doctor the cattle when I was barely old enough to talk.”

“Medicine was all I ever wanted to do, too.” He stared at the keys in hand and shrugged wide, dependable shoulders. “Best get the girls home. Thanks for, uh, saving Tomasina.”

“Anytime.” She jammed her hands into her white jacket, feeling oddly sad for the man. Everyone heard how his wife had left him and his daughters for his best friend, a fellow doctor who shared his former practice. How hard that had to have been for him, she sympathized, remembering how shattered her father had been years ago when her mother had left him for another man. Adam Stone didn’t look shattered. He seemed invincible, as if no tragedy could ever touch him.

She wanted to say something of comfort or reassurance, but she didn’t know what would possibly be appropriate. They were strangers. She knew his daughters but not the man, who managed a craggy half smile in lieu of a goodbye.

“This isn’t over yet.” She backed away, waving through the sun-streaked windshield to the girls buckled up inside the sedan. “You are invited to our family’s Fourth of July bash tomorrow.”

“Apparently there’s no getting out of it.” His wry tone held the hint of a smile although his face betrayed no emotion. He angled behind the wheel and shut the door.

That was it. No goodbye. No looking-forward-to-seeing-you-again comments. Just the hum of a finely tuned engine rolling over. She watched the luxury car sail away, the vehicle at odds with the practical pickups and four-wheel drives in the lot, out of place just like the man.

She headed back inside where her next furry patient awaited her, but she couldn’t get Adam Stone out of her mind.

“You’re a little late for supper, girl.”

She looked up at her dad’s comment, her feet dragging on the pathway from the garage to the backyard. An old maple spread broad-leafed shade over the picnic table set up on the lawn, where her family was eating. Signs of preparation for tomorrow’s bash were already up. Strings of lights hung from the porch eaves and stretched to wind around the maple’s lowest branches. A fire pit had been dug in the gravel at the edge of the lawn, stacked with wood and ready to burn.

“Long day.” Exhausted, she dropped her bag on the lawn. “Three emergencies, a packed schedule and a couple drop-ins that I worked in after hours and a rescued baby finch.”

“Tomasina?” Cady Winslow grabbed the iced tea pitcher and filled a plastic cup.

“So you heard.” Cheyenne dropped onto the seat beside her sister Addison and reached across the table to accept the iced tea Cady offered.

“Even I know who Tomasina is,” Dad quipped as he popped a barbecued potato chip into his mouth. “Julianna told me all about it when I picked Cady up just a bit ago.”

“Poor Tomasina,” Addy sympathized as she poked at her hot dog, adjusting the bun. “Is she going to make a full recovery?”

“She was doing much better when I left. Ivy volunteered to take her home. So far her prognosis is good.” She lifted the paper plate serving as a lid over her meal. The smoky scent of barbecued hot dog made her stomach rumble. The generous scoops of their housekeeper’s potato salad made her mouth water. “Mrs. Gunderson spoils us. I hope she never leaves.”

“I just gave her a raise to make sure of it.” Dad chuckled as he polished off the last of the potato salad on his plate. “I’m going in for seconds. Anyone want more?”

“I do.” Cady’s gentle green eyes softened when she focused on Dad. Honest love made her even more radiant. She rose from the bench with grace, taking her plate with her. The sun shone in the soft waves of her pretty brown hair and her sandals didn’t seem to touch the ground as she crossed the grass.

The way Dad watched the woman’s approach made Cheyenne’s vision blur. She loved that her dad had found someone to treasure him the way he deserved. It was sweet when he drew Cady toward him and they walked the rest of the distance together. The couple’s happiness lifted on the temperate breeze like the low, merry murmurings of their conversation.

“I’m glad Dad found Cady.” Addy sighed a little, too. “I’ve never seen him this happy.”

“No, neither have I. She’s good for him.”

“They are good for each other.”

They sat in silence, watching the middle-aged couple cross the porch, their quiet laughter carrying on the breeze. Dad held the screen door for his lady love.

“When do you think he is going to propose?” Addy tossed a lock of strawberry-blond hair over her shoulder, her big blue eyes full of mischief.

“How should I know? Like Dad tells me anything more than he tells you.” She clasped her hands together, wanting to say the blessing before her stomach imploded with hunger. She’d missed lunch.

“I think it will be soon. Just a guess. No, more like a wild hope.” Addy crunched on a potato chip. “I think Cady will make a good stepmom, don’t you?”

“The best.” She tried to close her eyes for the blessing, but her gaze zipped across the lawn to the house. Large picture windows looked in at the family room and gave a sliver of a view into the kitchen where Dad stole Cady’s plate, set it on the breakfast bar and pulled her into his arms. Tenderness radiated from their embrace. As their lips met, Addy sighed again.

“I don’t think Dad knows we can see him.” Cheyenne watched with interest. “We shouldn’t be spying.”

“If he doesn’t want us to spy on him, next time he should close the blinds.” Addy’s grin stretched from ear to ear, showing off the dimples she’d inherited from their father. “I think he’s getting serious.”

“I do, too.” She tried to look away, but the way her dad ended the kiss with reverence and tugged Cady against his chest, as if he cherished her above all else, made it impossible. Her father had never dated once in the seventeen years since their mother left. His heart had never recovered from the betrayal and his life had been too busy with the responsibility of raising five kids and running one of the largest ranches in White Horse County. He’d been lonely for so long.

Father, thank You for sending someone to love Dad. Thank You for sending Cady. She bowed her head, finishing the prayer with thanks for the blessings in her life, so very many blessings. She opened her eyes. Dad and Cady had stepped out of sight but the feel of their happiness remained.

“So, do you have tomorrow off for sure or not?” Addy chose another chip from the pile on her plate.

Before she could answer, a cow leaned across the wooden rails of the fence at the far edge of the lawn, pleaded with doelike eyes and gave a long, sorrowful moo.

“No chips for you, Buttercup, sorry.” Cheyenne grabbed the plastic bottle of relish and squirted it the length of her hot dog bun. “Addy, tomorrow I’m on call.”

“Bummer. You’re always on call.”

“That’s because there are two vets in a fifty-mile radius.” She traded the relish for the mayonnaise bottle and gave it a squeeze. “Nate is going to take the big animal calls, if there are any. I’m taking the small animal.”

“You look happy, too.” Addy licked barbecue seasoning off her fingertips. “It’s good to see. You must be over your broken heart.”

“Over it? I don’t even remember it.” That was what denial could do for a girl. She was the queen of denial. She could block out nearly any hurt, any heartache, any disappointment. In fact, she couldn’t even remember what had happened with what’s-his-name back in vet school. Broken heart? Her heart was just fine as long as she didn’t have to look at it. “I’m my own independent woman. What’s there not to be happy about?”

“That’s my view, too. Marriage, who needs it?” Addy reached to grab more chips from the bowl in the center of the table. “No man is going to tie me down with matrimony.”

“Me, either.” Her experience with romance had been enough to make her leery. She thought of how their mom had treated Dad and of every other person she knew who’d been disappointed by love. Her sister-in-law Rori’s first marriage hadn’t worked out, her soon-to-be sister-in-law Sierra’s husband had abandoned her with a small son to raise. She couldn’t help recalling Adam Stone’s sorrow, a shadow that remained even in full light.

She was a healer and knew some of the worst wounds were not physical. The type she did not know how to treat; she knew of no medicine that would heal them and yet injuries to the heart and spirit happened every day. They left scars in the most vulnerable places, marring the soul.

“Look at Dad.” Addy’s whisper vibrated with delight. “In front of us, he can barely even hold Cady’s hand. Like we couldn’t have guessed they were kissing in the kitchen.”

“He’s bashful,” she said because the truth bunched in her throat and she didn’t want to say those words and ruin the happy moment as Cady laughed gently. Buttercup let out another moo at not being invited to the picnic table and Dad called out to the cow in his tender, deep-noted baritone.

Dad’s wounds still affected him and made it tough for him to bare his vulnerable heart. If she looked past her own denial to how shattered she’d been when Edward broke things off with her, she felt similarly. Love that lasted and stood the test of years and hardship was rare. There was no way to tell ahead of time which relationship would endure and which would fail. That was why she was staying single for a long, long time.