Читать книгу A Tender Touch - Lenora Worth, Rachel Hauck - Страница 8

“Sit.”

Clay Dempsey patted the big German shepherd on the head, then grinned down at him. “Good boy, Samson.” Leaning close, he whispered, “We have to behave ourselves today. My brother is getting married. I’ll take you out on the beach for some tug-of-war later, I promise.”

Samson’s ears perked up with interest, but the dog remained in a sitting position.

Clay glanced around. It was a crisp early September afternoon and they were standing in what looked like a marsh. Why Stone of all people had chosen to get married in this mosquito-infested Georgia swamp was beyond Clay’s comprehension. Stone was more the country-club-wedding and extravagant-reception type. But then, his brother had changed. A lot apparently, from everything Clay had heard and seen since coming back to Sunset Island a couple of days ago. But then, everything in his own life seemed to be changing, too, Clay reasoned as he patted Samson’s head and waited nervously for the wedding to begin.

Now he was about to be part of Stone’s wedding to Tara Parnell. Clay was the best man and their older brother, Rock, who happened to be a minister and married to Tara’s sister, Ana, was going to perform the ceremony.

“What a strange and wonderful world we live in, Samson,” Clay said to the big dog sitting faithfully but alert at his feet. “I mean, here I am in a tuxedo, standing in a marsh, waiting for my brother to get married. This is the second wedding in our family this summer.” First Rock and now Stone. Clay felt downright betrayed and bewildered.

He never would have believed either of his ornery brothers would get married and settle down. Especially Stone.

He stared down at Samson, wondering if the animal knew what Clay was trying to say. Things change, life goes on. But lately, things had been changing too much for Clay. Lately, he’d become restless and edgy. He needed this vacation, or at least according to his captain back at the police department in Atlanta, Clay needed some time away from the force. And both he and Samson needed some time to heal.

“I won’t let you down, buddy,” Clay said to the dog. Samson did seem to understand that particular promise. He stared up at Clay with big, dark, doleful eyes, as if to say “I know you won’t, partner.”

Clay and Samson had been together for two years. They worked the K-9 Unit in one of Atlanta’s worst areas. Searching out drugs and criminals mostly. Sometimes just search and find. Clay had seen too much death and destruction lately. And the last round had almost caused both Clay and Samson to become statistics. Nothing like a near-death experience to make a person stop and think about living. Really living.

“Hey, brother, you about ready?”

Clay turned to find Rock headed his way with a grin on his face. “Is it time?”

“It’s time. And don’t look so panicked. You’re not the one getting hitched.”

“Thank goodness.” Clay relaxed, then gave Samson the signal to do the same. The dog plopped down, his big eyes looking disappointed, his big tongue hanging out. There was so much action out in that marsh, after all.

And a lot of human action around the quaint little chapel sitting by the still waters that came from the nearby Savannah River. Clay looked toward the chapel. “Is the bride ready?”

“Very ready,” Rock said, slapping Clay on the back. “She’s hiding out in the tent Ana set up near Josiah’s house. Between the bugs, the humidity and her nerves, however, I think the bride’s going to be as wilted as a thirsty water lily.”

“I bet Stone won’t notice,” Clay replied, thinking Tara Parnell was sure a pretty woman. And his brother seemed to really love her. “Explain it to me one more time, Rock. How exactly did Stone become a human being?”

Rock laughed, his Bible in one hand as they walked toward the chapel where both family and friends were crowded into the pews, waiting. The sound of the classic and romantic “Pachelbel Canon” filled the air as several white birds, startled from their nests in the cypress trees, lifted out over the water. Clay saw the bride coming out of her tent, her eyes wide and misty, her steps almost in perfect symmetry with the flight of the beautiful, graceful birds as she lifted her full-skirted creamy satin gown off the ground. They were about to have a wedding.

The rest of the Sunset Island inhabitants were patiently waiting back at Stone’s turn-of-the-century hotel, Hidden Hill, for a big reception.

Rock held a hand toward the chapel. “We can thank the good Lord and the love of a good woman for that transformation, brother. Sir Walter Scott put it best— ‘For love is heaven, and heaven is love.’ A man can’t miss with that combination.”

Clay nodded, silently thinking that he’d never been able to find that particular combination in his own love life. Maybe because he wasn’t a romantic or a philosopher like his older brother, Rock, nor a shrewd, aggressive businessman like his other brother, Stone. Clay was shy and quiet-natured, but direct when need be; focused and determined, but completely dedicated to his work. And therein lay the problem with his nonexistent love life. Too many nights out with Samson, searching for the lost, searching for the hidden, searching for something or someone to bring the life back to his own soul.

“I did need a vacation,” he mumbled, causing Rock to raise an eyebrow, and causing Samson to send him a low bark of agreement.

“I’m glad you’re home,” Rock said as they reached the aged wooden steps to the chapel. “Let’s go get Stone married, so our mother can drink punch and brag.”

Clay stopped on the bottom step, his eyes going wide. “Uh-oh. I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

Rock frowned. “For what?”

“Not for what,” Clay replied. “With Mother. I mean, I don’t stand a chance now. Both you and Stone married! That leaves me.”

Rock nodded slowly, a bemused expression on his face. “Yes, I can see why you have that look of utter fear in your eyes. Here for a whole month, with Mother hearing so many wedding bells. Prepare for a big battle, brother. She’ll try to fix you up with every available island girl, that’s for sure.”

“Great,” Clay said, rolling his eyes. “Just what I needed.”

“This is great,” Fredrica Hayes said to Ana as she took another nibble of the wonderful bite-size crabcake centered on her plate of appetizers. “Ana, thanks for inviting me. I needed a break.”

“Of course, Fredrica,” Ana Dempsey said, her smile bright and cheery. “We couldn’t have the whole island here for a reception without including the latest newcomer, now could we?”

“Well, I do appreciate it—and call me Freddie. That’s my nickname. My dad gave it to me, and it’s kind of stuck since childhood.”

Ana laughed. “Sounds as if you had a parent like Eloise. You know she nicknamed all her boys after substances she uses in her art.”

“So I hear,” Freddie replied, glancing around. “I got my name because Daddy said Fredrica sounded so Gothic and old-fashioned. And besides, I always was a tomboy.”

She didn’t add that she’d always been very close to her father, and she missed him so terribly, she’d moved all the way back to Georgia just to be close to him. It would be good for both of them, since her mother had died five years ago.

“So Freddie it is,” Ana said, bringing Freddie back to the present and her next crabcake. “I like it.” Ana moved around the reception table, making sure there were enough appetizers left. A team of waiters under the watchful eyes of Ana’s staffers, Jackie, Tina and Charlotte, kept moving back and forth from the garden to the big kitchen inside. “Even though you don’t look like a tomboy at all with that long, dark hair.”

“My one feminine indulgence,” Freddie admitted. “But even with long hair, I somehow managed to scare all the boys away in high school.”

Ana gave her an appraising look, taking in the floral sleeveless sheath Freddie had chosen for the afternoon reception. “Well, I think that’s about to change. We have some eligible bachelors here on the island, and I don’t think they know any fear.”

“Oh, no, I’m not looking for love right now,” Freddie replied, thinking she had lots of work and a six-year-old son to keep her busy. Too busy to date. “Ryan and I have to get settled here first. He started a new daycare a week ago and…we’re both still adjusting. And soon, he’ll be in school—first grade.”

“I understand,” Ana said, her expression softening. “Being a young widow isn’t easy. Tara had a hard time of it until she met Stone.” Then she smiled. “But it’s too bad you aren’t ready to leap back into the singles world. I had someone in mind already.”

In spite of her unabashed attempt at matchmaking, Freddie liked Ana Dempsey. Ana had been one of the first people to welcome Freddie and her son, Ryan, to the island. They’d stopped in the tearoom for a quick lunch one day, but Ana had been so gracious and welcoming, Freddie had immediately felt an instant bond with the woman. And Tara was just as nice. She’d even offered her oldest daughter, Laurel, to help baby-sit Ryan. Then last week, Ana had invited Freddie to Tara and Stone’s afternoon wedding reception in the gardens of Hidden Hill.

“Well, just keep that name handy,” she told Ana now. “I might be interested once I get my life in order.” Right now, she’d settle for having friends to turn to on the island. It had been so long since she’d had any close girlfriends. Ana seemed like a good choice, since she was a successful businesswoman and she was married to the preacher. Freddie had already attended church at the Sunset Island Chapel. That only confirmed she’d made the right decision by leaving Texas. This was a good, safe place for Ryan to grow up, with lots of families and a peaceful, small-town atmosphere.

Thinking she’d like to get to know Eloise and the whole family better, Freddie said, “Okay, I’ve met Rock, and the groom, Stone, of course. But I don’t think I’ve been introduced to—”

Before Freddie could finish her sentence, Ana was called away by Eloise, and at about the same time, a big, intimidating German shepherd came barreling around the corner of the large mansion, headed right for Freddie. In spite of the dog’s eagerness, Freddie could tell he ran with a slight limp. His form wasn’t the best, but the big dog gave it all he had, at least.

“Whoa, there! Samson, heel.”

The man in the tuxedo seemed amused even though his command was firm and no-nonsense.

Samson came to a skidding halt right in front of Freddie. Then he glanced back at his master, a soft whine escaping from his drooling mouth. Staring down at the lovely animal, Freddie could almost read the thoughts in the dog’s eyes. You look like you like dogs, lady.

And she did. Very much.

“Well, hello there,” Freddie said, her gaze moving from the panting dog to the out-of-breath man hurrying toward them. “May I pet him?” she asked, reaching out a hand toward the waiting animal.

“Samson, what’s got into you, boy?” the man said, his frown aimed at the dog while he ignored Freddie’s question. Then the man gave Freddie what she could only believe to be an appreciative sweeping gaze. “Okay, in this case, I guess I understand. He never could resist a pretty woman.”

“Neither could you, if memory serves me correctly,” Stone said from behind the man. Then he turned to Freddie. “Fredrica Hayes, meet my younger brother, Clay Dempsey.”

Clay Dempsey. The one Dempsey brother she hadn’t met yet. And well worth the wait, she decided.

Clay extended a hand, his grin sheepish. So this was the younger brother. Oh, he had such a sweet, little-boy face. And thick gold-dipped, dark-blond hair, clipped to precision. And eyes to make a woman swoon. Blue-green, and ever changing like the ocean.

“Hello,” Freddie said, offering him a hand, her heart doing a little spin.

Clay took her hand and nodded, the eyes she’d been admiring opening wide. “Yes.”

“Yes?” Freddie watched his face, then turned to Stone.

“What he’s trying to say, is yes, you can pet the dog, I think,” Stone replied, a grin splitting his handsome face.

“Yes,” Clay said again, a blush coloring his tanned face to bronze. “Yes, you can pet the big brute. He’s a K-9 and he’s supposed to behave himself at wedding receptions.”

Smiling, Freddie nodded, her dark hair falling around her face as she leaned forward to scratch Samson’s thick neck. “I can see he’s a canine,” she said, thinking Clay must not have inherited as many brain cells as his brothers. “That does mean dog, right?”

Clay shifted in his black patent shoes. “I mean,” he said, looking toward a highly amused Stone, “he’s, we’re, cops. K-9 Unit, downtown Atlanta.”

“Oh.” Freddie lifted her hand away from the dog, her smile freezing in place, his words making sense now as a trickle of disappointment settled in her stomach. Oh, well, she could still be polite, at least. “How interesting. I’m actually—”

“Hey, you two, we need more pictures,” Ana called, waving to Stone and Clay.

“Oh, boy,” Stone said, shrugging. “Greta Epperson is having a field day. Wants to put us in living color on the society page of the paper.” Then he turned to Freddie. “It’s on page three of the three pages they print, you understand.”

Freddie laughed again, her hand on Samson’s head. “I do understand. She interviewed me when I first came to town, what with me being the new—”

“Come on,” Ana called again, interrupting as she hurried toward them, then dragged Stone back with her toward the gathering group. “You, too,” she called over her shoulder to Clay.

Clay whirled around, then stopped to glance back at Freddie. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Same here,” Freddie said, her heart fluttering like a trapped sandpiper. “Could…could Samson sit here with me while you go pose for posterity?”

A sigh of obvious relief left his body as he walked backward a couple of steps. “That would be nice. He’s had a rough time lately. He’s recovering from an injury he received while on duty and well…”

“He needs some nurturing?”

He nodded, his blue-green eyes melting her with an intense look of appreciation. “Yeah, he could use some tender loving care. Just until I can get him to the local vet next week for a follow-up checkup and the rest of his therapy sessions.”

Freddie watched as Clay turned and trotted toward the group gathered for a picture, with Greta Epperson in her big-framed glasses and satin fifties-style pink dress issuing orders and posing people.

“But…I am the local vet,” Freddie said to Samson, her smile secretive and sure as she rubbed his thick, furry neck. “I’ll take care of you, Samson. I promise.”

Samson’s big black ears shot up, then he settled his nose against the fabric of her floral dress and smiled back.

“She’s—”

“Pretty,” Rock said before Clay could finish. “Is that the word you were looking for, brother?”

Clay shot a grin toward Rock. “Not exactly. I forget I’m not out on the streets of Atlanta. Have to watch my mouth and my manners.”

“Please do,” Ana said as they all smiled for yet another picture from the photographer Greta had dragged along to the wedding. Then Ana leaned close to Clay. “Freddie has had a rough time. Her husband was killed about a year ago—I’m not sure what happened. She has a six-year-old son named Ryan.”

“Really?” Clay wanted to know more, but the photographer was jostling them around so he was forced to face forward and step out of the way.

“Really,” Ana replied over her shoulder. “And she’s not interested, by the way.”

“Who’s asking.” Clay shrugged, then looked toward where Fredrica Hayes sat patting Samson’s head. The dog seemed content to keep right on sitting there while the dark-haired, dark-eyed woman scratched him between the ears.

Clay couldn’t blame poor Samson. When he’d come around the corner and found her standing there, his heart had skidded to a stop just about as screeching as Samson’s big feet. Even now, it was beating rather erratically. Fredrica Hayes was pretty, but there was something more. She looked very lithe and athletic, as if she worked out on a regular basis. She didn’t have many curves, but what she had fit the package perfectly.

“Are you sure?” he asked Ana under his breath.

Ana’s eyebrows lifted with purposeful intent. “About Freddie? Well, she said she wasn’t ready for any type of relationship. She’s only been on the island a couple of weeks and she’s still getting adjusted…but you never know, now do you?”

“No, you never know,” Clay replied. “At least she likes dogs.”

“It’s a start,” Ana said, her expression a little too pleased. Then with a little laugh, she gave him a shove. “What are you waiting for?”

Clay wondered that himself. What was he waiting for? He’d come home to find some peace and quiet and to do some soul-searching. This was supposed to be a time to heal, not a time to fall for the first woman Samson happened to buddy up to. But then, Samson was a very smart animal. Maybe Clay should just do what he’d always done regarding his K-9 partner.

Follow his lead.