Читать книгу The Doctor Next Door - Victoria Pade - Страница 7

Chapter Three

When Faith’s doorbell rang at seven-thirty Tuesday night there were two possibilities for who could be on her front porch.

The first was that it was the delivery person from the Chinese restaurant, Northbridge’s newest addition.

The second possibility was that it was Boone Pratt.

And even though she was starving, she was secretly—and curiously—rooting for the Boone possibility.

As she reached for the handle she heard Charlie’s demanding let-me-in yip to give her advance warning of who had rung the bell.

An inexplicable smile sprang to her lips and she instantly suppressed it. Boone Pratt didn’t need to know that after not being able to stop thinking about him since leaving his office on Sunday evening, she was so happy for the chance to see him again that she was nearly giddy. So she made sure she was composed and showing no signs of her delight by the time she opened the door.

“Dog delivery,” Boone announced in greeting.

“It had to be that or Chinese food,” Faith said, stepping out of the way as Charlie charged inside.

“She’s better,” Faith observed, surprised by the improvement in her pet. “And not even on a leash.”

“She’s fine,” Boone assured.

“Come in,” Faith invited.

It was not as spontaneous an invitation as she made it sound.

Before she’d had the chance to call Boone’s office that morning to ask when she could pick up Charlie, Boone’s receptionist had phoned to tell her Charlie was with Boone and that Boone had gone from home to an emergency on a farm far outside of Northbridge. The receptionist had said she would let Faith know when he got to the office.

Then the receptionist had called later to say the emergency was going to occupy Boone all day and that—if it was all right with Faith—he would bring Charlie by her house later this evening.

So Faith had known for hours that Boone would be coming by tonight and she’d given the whole prospect a great deal of thought. Beginning with just how friendly she should be when she was with him again.

She’d been surprised with how friendly she wanted to be, surprised how much the idea of his coming over had pleased her. She’d spent the better part of the afternoon deliberating about what to wear, how to do her hair, how to act, whether or not to ask him in, what to say if she did and how to say it. She’d even caught herself practicing in the mirror when she’d only intended to pluck her eyebrows.

And despite telling herself that there was no reason for her to be doing or thinking any of what she’d done or thought, in the end she’d hated the idea of Boone merely dropping off Charlie and leaving. And then she’d told herself that asking him in when he was personally bringing her dog home was nothing more than hometown hospitality.

Hometown hospitality that included deep-conditioning her hair and wearing it loose around her shoulders, paying special attention to her blush and mascara, ironing perfect creases into her khaki slacks and changing tops seven times before she’d settled on the pale yellow sweater set she had on.

She’d told herself it was nothing more than hometown hospitality that prompted her to wait to order her dinner until Boone’s promised call, telling her he was on his way. And to order at least three times more food than she would have ordered for herself.

Her rehearsed invitation for him to come in must have seemed as innocent as she’d intended it to, though, because Boone merely accepted it by stepping inside.

“I don’t know what she was like before, but I’m betting she’s her old self,” he said as he did.

Charlie, he’s talking about Charlie, Faith had to remind herself, realizing only then that telling her about her dog’s health was likely why Boone had accepted her invitation. That it was purely business. As it should have been. She was simply showing him hometown hospitality and he was simply showing her the courtesy he probably offered every pet owner. That’s all there was to it, that’s all there should have been to it. It had nothing to do with attraction of any kind.…

“Come in and sit,” she invited, leading him from the door that opened into the living room to the black leather sofa and the matching white leather chair that Charlie had already jumped up on.

“Charlie, you know you aren’t supposed to be on that chair,” she said when she spotted her schnauzer sitting proudly in the middle of it. “Please get down.”

Charlie glanced up at her but didn’t budge. As usual.

“Charlie, down,” Boone said from behind Faith.

Charlie hopped down.

“She listened to you,” Faith said in amazement.

Boone sat in the chair Charlie had vacated but made no comment before outlining the progression of her dog’s health in the last twenty-four hours.

Faith wondered if she was a terrible pet owner, but she was only half listening as she took in the sight of Boone.

For someone who had been attending to a farm-animal emergency, he looked remarkably good. He had on semidark blue jeans, a completely unwrinkled crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and buffed and polished cowboy boots. Plus his longish hair was clean, his dauntingly handsome face was freshly shaven and he smelled like spring rain—a cologne she wasn’t familiar with but liked more than she wished she did.

Had he gone home to shower and shave before bringing Charlie? she wondered suddenly.

If he had it was more likely because whatever had kept him busy today had left him in need, that it had nothing to do with her. She told herself this to keep from feeling unduly flattered. Just because she had found thoughts of him impossible to shake didn’t mean he’d had the same problem with thoughts of her. Why would he have?

“…no dry food—canned food only—for the next week to give her mouth a chance to heal. Nothing but soft treats, too. But other than that, she’s perfectly healthy and full of personality,” Boone was saying when Faith realized he was wrapping up his account of Charlie and that she’d better pay attention.

The doorbell rang again just then and Charlie leaped into action just as she always did—running for the door, barking so loudly it was jarring.

“You’re expecting company—that’s why you’re dressed up again,” Boone said.

He still thought she’d overdone it? And she hadn’t even worn the pearls that usually went with the sweater set…

“I’ll take off,” Boone added over the ruckus.

“No!”

Faith regretted the urgency in her voice and hoped the noise her dog was making camouflaged it. Then, forcing nonchalance again, she said, “That’s just dinner. Remember? I told you I’d ordered Chinese food.”

Charlie continued to bark and Faith raised her voice to beg the dog to stop.

As with the chair, Charlie ignored her and continued the rant at the door.

“Charlie, no. Come,” Boone said, not raising his voice at all.

To Faith’s amazement, the dog stopped and instantly rejoined them in the living room.

Where Boone stood. “I should go and let you eat,” he said.

“There’s a ton of food,” Faith countered in a hurry, standing, too. “Since it’s my first time I wanted to try a little of a lot of things. Then I’ll know from here on what’s good and what isn’t. If you haven’t eaten, you could stay.…”

The second invitation she’d rehearsed. Had it sounded unplanned? Or had she just given herself away?

Hoping to cover her tracks if she had, she made up a reason and added, “Maybe you can tell me what kind of spell you’ve put on my dog to get her to behave.”

“You seriously want me to have dinner with you?” Boone asked, once again not addressing her astonishment over his control of her dog but showing some of his own astonishment at her suggestion.

“Seriously,” Faith confirmed. “Unless you have plans…” Which could have been why he’d come looking—and smelling—as good as he did.

“I was just going to pick up something to eat on my way home.”

“So you might as well stay,” Faith said, feeling an inordinate amount of satisfaction to learn that he hadn’t intended to see anyone but her tonight.

“You’re sure?” he asked as if this might be a trap.

“I’m sure,” she confirmed, wishing he didn’t still seem so wary of her as she went to answer the door.

Charlie didn’t run along beside her and try to rush out the minute she opened it. That came as another surprise. As she accepted several bags of food she looked back to see the schnauzer calmly sitting at Boone’s feet.

“We could eat on the coffee table,” Faith said when she turned back to Boone, “but we won’t have any peace from Charlie. She’ll have her nose in everything and she’ll steal whatever she can reach. So we’re probably better off in the kitchen. Just don’t ever leave your chair not pushed in or she’ll jump up there, too, and help herself.”

“Really.…” Boone said, following her as Faith went around the half wall that was the only separation between living room and kitchen.

“There’s no dining room,” Faith continued, feeling the need to outline her humble surroundings for no reason she understood. “The whole place doesn’t amount to much,” she said as she unloaded the sacks onto the round bleached-oak pedestal table that was just large enough for two spindle-back chairs. “There are only two bedrooms, two baths, the living room, the kitchen and that tiny laundry room that leads to the garage.” She pointed to her left where the washing machine and dryer could be seen through the connecting doorway. “I didn’t think I’d end up here for any extended period of time, so when my ex-husband wanted me to find a house to buy for us to use whenever we visited, I just looked for something that offered the bare necessities.”

“Why not stay with family when you visited?” Boone asked, seeming far more at ease than she felt as she went for plates and utensils and then opened cartons of food.

“My ex-husband refused. Oddly enough, we lived with his family in Connecticut the rest of the time, but he said the only way he was coming here was if we had somewhere to stay that wasn’t with my family. Then again, he only came with me twice, anyway. But I guess it’s good that I have the place now.”

She sorted through what she’d ordered, trying to figure out what was what. Boone had eaten at the restaurant in the past so he helped before settling on his favorites while Faith took a spoonful from each carton in order to validate her story about ordering so much so she could try a little of everything.

She also poured them both glasses of iced tea before they began to eat.

“If it’s good that you have the house now does that mean that you’re going to give in to your sisters and stay in Northbridge?” Boone asked.

“I’m here for now but I don’t know about forever. I have a new apartment in Connecticut that I could go back to, too, if I decided that’s what I want. Not because I hate it here or anything, though,” she was quick to add. Then she smiled slyly and said, “Or because I’m high and mighty or have my nose in the air.”

Boone pretended outrage. “Who said that about you? Anybody I know? I’ll knock ’em flat for you.”

Faith laughed, glad he’d played along. But she used the joke as a springboard anyway. “That stuff honestly isn’t—and never was—true,” she said because it bothered her to have just moments earlier seen that he was still leery of her and she wanted to explain herself once and for all.

“What’s the truth, then?” he challenged.

“It’s the reverend’s fault.”

The reverend—her grandfather—had met the majority of Northbridge’s spiritual needs for decades before his retirement only a few years ago, so Faith knew there was no need to qualify who the reverend was to Boone.

“It was the reverend’s fault?” Boone repeated as Faith paused to eat a bite of Mongolian beef.

“It wasn’t that I hated Northbridge or anybody in it,” she said when she’d finished her taste of the spicy meat, reiterating what she’d told him the day before. “I was just dying for more than I could get here and while some of that craving was just me and wanting what I was naturally drawn to, I think some of it was a result of being deprived of those things because the reverend wouldn’t allow them.”

Boone raised a forkful of crispy orange shrimp. “You wanted more than Chinese food and pizza delivered to your door?” he asked before taking a bite.

“When I left Northbridge you couldn’t get anything delivered to your door. But that wasn’t what I was thinking about.”

“What were you thinking about?” he asked as if he was genuinely interested and open to what she was revealing about herself.

“The reverend was the high-and-mighty one in our family. He was the boss. My dad and my uncle Carl never stood up to him, so what the reverend said was law—”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard any one of you call him anything but the reverend—why is that?”

Faith shrugged. “Even my father and uncle call him the reverend. I don’t know if it’s the way he wanted it or if it just happened. I only know that I’ve never heard anyone call him Dad