Summer's Night (3 page)

Chapter 4

"Hi, Murphy. Have a good day?" Summer petted the head of her extra large, fluffy white dog as she opened the front door. "Need to go outside?" Holding the door open, she followed the animal out, watching as Murphy trotted here and there, sniffing over her property before finally finding a place to squat.

Nearly a year ago, Summer had stumbled across a mobile pet adoption event at the local store. Although she'd considered a companion animal for a while, she'd talked herself out of it each and every time. Her work schedule kept her busy, too busy for a dog, she told herself over and over again. Until she looked into the deep brown eyes of Murphy. The purebred Great Pyrenees had wandered the highway for several weeks, living off road kill, before a Good Samaritan had taken her in. Unable to keep her, they'd brought her to the local Humane Society. Slated for euthanasia, a rescue group stepped forward at the last minute, saving her life. Her long white hair contained multiple mats extending to the skin, which couldn't be brushed out, forcing the rescue to shave her hair, further exposing her skin-and-bones body. After that, she'd remained in a foster home for a few weeks, gaining weight, getting routine vet work done including being spayed, and learning to trust people again.

Summer had looked into those soulful eyes of the dog sitting in a large crate in front of the store and her heart had melted. She couldn't bear to leave Murphy behind to an uncertain future, not when she could provide a good home for the needy animal. Within minutes she'd filled out an application and walked away with a new best friend. It was the best decision she'd ever made.

Murphy wandered back over, leaning heavily against Summer. "Ooph. You're heavy, girl." Rubbing the dog's head, Summer sat down on the front porch, brush in hand.

Brushing the dog each night served two purposes. Each stroke served as therapy for Summer, helping her release the day's tension and simply relax into the moment she shared with her dog. The other proved more practical. Great Pyrenees were known for their hair and when they shed, it looked like a ton of cotton balls had fallen from the sky. Luckily, daily brushing made a major dent in what her poor old vacuum had to suck off of the floor and out of the area rug. Every couple of weeks she wrestled the one hundred pound dog into the shower, scrubbing her with oatmeal canine soap, then dried her until the soft hair floated in the breeze. Murphy tolerated the procedure with her typical laid-back demeanor. Nothing short of an overt threat to her or the horses got the dog's dander up. Luckily, those didn't happen too often.

She sighed, grateful for the covered front porch, which provided a shady cool place to rest as she groomed Murphy. As long as she could remember, she'd loved the large area, complete with railing and steps that led to the ground. Her grandparents originally owned the old farmhouse and surrounding acreage; her mother grew up in the very same house. When her frail, elderly grandmother passed three years before, she'd bequeathed the farmhouse and ten acres to Summer, much to her amazement. Her insightful and smart grandmother not only spoke often to Summer's mother about her wishes, she'd written them down in a legalized will, lining up assets and belongings to pass on. Without the generous gift, even as a physical therapist, Summer wouldn't be able to afford the land or to care for the three horses she'd adopted last year if she had to start from scratch.

Murphy groaned in contentment, stretching out on her side, giving Summer ample space and opportunity to brush her side and belly.

"Spoiled." She grinned affectionately at the canine.

Her thoughts wandered back to Mrs Kensington's son, Colton. He preferred being called Night, she quickly reminded herself. An odd nickname, but considering his physical features shouted a strong Native American history, it wasn't a huge surprise. He carried his large frame well, sound and sturdy, muscle mass in abundance, but not extreme like body builders aimed for. No. His strength came from hard work; she could see it in his fluid movements, his graceful motions. A man used to physical activity and comfortable with his body.

Those deep blue eyes. An odd feature for his heritage, unique yet beautiful. Eyes that reflected understanding and insight as well as intelligence and wisdom. If she didn't know better, she would swear he could see right through her and into her very soul. Intimidating. Not that she had anything to hide.

Her life could be described as simple. Working with physical therapy clients in their homes then back to care for her home and animals. Pretty boring when compared to most people, but not for her. She enjoyed the solitude and absence from the rat race most people endured.

Summer wondered what Night's career involved. She knew he lived with his mother, but business took him away often. That much Mrs Kensington told her. She also mentioned he remained single despite dating various women.
He just hasn't found the right one to touch his heart.
The older woman's words replayed through her mind. She could understand that sentiment, being a romantic herself. Those that married for money or prestige baffled her.

Her brief interlude with Night that morning hinted he might be difficult to live with. Most certainly he cared for and doted on his mother. She couldn't argue that. But, she'd noticed the way his jaw tensed when she asked him not to assist Mrs Kensington in standing. He didn't take orders well and probably would have told her to shove off if his mother hadn't been present. Control. She could see that in him.

Alpha male.
She shook her head and grinned. All those romance novels corrupted her. But the more she considered it, the more he fit the bill. His physical appearance, his stature, his confident airs. She couldn't see him sitting at a desk forty hours a week. No, he would be outside, doing something active. Probably one of those men who communed with nature on a regular basis.

Those eyes flashed in her mind once more. She guessed he possessed a mixed heritage based on eye color alone. The details intrigued her.
What am I thinking?
Everything about that man intrigued her. From the inner workings of his mind, to his day-to-day life, to the nice curve of his muscle packed rear.

She released a long breath and patted Murphy. No sense getting all worked up over the son of a client. Her contract with Mrs Kensington only lasted four weeks. Besides, based on Night's looks, he could have any woman he wanted, which left her out in the rain with the ordinary cows in the pasture. Average, simple women didn't date upscale men like him.

Date?
Talk about putting the cart before the horse. She shook her head in amusement at herself. Obviously she needed a distraction in her life. And Night wasn't it. Never before had she taken such sudden interest in a man.
Too many dang romance novels.

Shoving all those crazy thoughts from her mind, she stood and headed toward the barn, Murphy jogging along at her side. No more time to daydream about a hero. Chores waited and if she didn't get a move on, she wouldn't be finished before dark.

Chapter 5

"Summer, I need a word with you." Night's deep baritone startled her as she strode toward her car.

Freezing, she took a deep breath, plastered a smile on her face, and turned to meet him. Her hand dropped from her hold on the door handle. His tone could mean anything but she assumed he disliked something about her care and decided to rake her over the coals for some presumed error. She didn't take harsh criticism well, especially undeserved critiques that sent her heart thudding and stomach to rolling. "Yes, Mr Kensington?"

He walked toward her, his natural ease and grace could make a large feline envious, not stopping until he stood on the edge of her comfort zone. Those cobalt eyes bore down into hers, as if seeking some deeply hidden secret buried in her mind. "The agency was lax in providing background information about you."

"Oh."
Did he expect her to whip out a resume on the spot?
Perplexed, she tilted her head, holding her breath for his explanation.

"How long have you been a physical therapist? And where did you get your certification from?" He threw out the questions as if interviewing her for an opening in a company.

She sighed inwardly, but answered truthfully. "I worked as a physical therapy assistant through school. Three years ago I graduated with my master's degree in physical therapy from the University of Arizona."

"I see." He nodded slightly and leaned up against her car. "I take it you work full time, going to patient's homes, and assisting them with their exercise?"

She nodded, taking a moment to glance at her watch, hoping he might get the hint.

"You live nearby? Got a boyfriend?"

A red flag waved warningly in her mind. Her muscles locked as she stood up straight. He didn't need to know anything personal about her. Professional, fine. She would answer any and all questions he asked about her job and training. But, that's where she drew the line. Too many crazy people lived in the world and she certainly didn't want to encourage a stalker to show up on her doorstep one night. "I don't see how where I live relates to my caring for your mother. If you don't mind, I prefer to keep my personal life just that, personal."

He stepped forward, glaring down at her. "Since you're working with my mother, I feel it's fair and necessary to know some facts about you. If you think that invades your privacy, then that's too bad. But I won't have less than the best therapist as well as an upstanding person seeing to her needs." His gravelly voice remained soft, but no less intimidating.

Summer bit her bottom lip, leashing the surging anger at his attitude. As much as she wanted to tell him exactly what she thought about his interrogation, she didn't dare utter a single snarky comment. Her job depended on it. "Look, Mr Kensington. I fully understand your concern about your mother and who will be caring for her. I assure you I'm a good therapist and know exactly what I'm doing. As for the other part, I've never been arrested, never even gotten a single speeding ticket. There are no "Wanted" posters of me on the post office wall, although you're more than welcome to look. I don't drink myself to oblivion each night and I even pay my bills on time." She took a breath and wrapped up her minor tirade. "If you believe I'm doing a poor job or you simply dislike me, that's your prerogative. You have every right to call the agency and ask for a replacement."

She spun back around, jerking open the car door in agitation. Plopping down in the seat, she tugged on the seatbelt out of sheer habit.

Night's hand clenched on her door, preventing her from shutting it. His expression eased, the harsh set to his mouth relaxing into an almost civil appearance. "Well said."

Blinking, she studied him, confused by his rapid change in demeanor. "I'm sorry. You lost me."

The corners of his mouth kicked up. "We'll see you tomorrow morning, Summer. And, for the record, you're doing just fine with Mother."

She watched as he turned, long strides leading back to the house.

Jerk.
She couldn't shake the feeling that she somehow passed his little test. With that thought, she pulled out of the driveway, on her way to the next client.

* * * *

"What did she tell you?"

Night looked up at his mother as he shut the front door. Her dark brown eyes sparkled with mischief, a look he knew all too well. "Nothing."

A smirk appeared on the older woman's face. "Told you to mind your own business, huh?"

He snorted.

She chuckled in amusement. "I figured that might be the case. Colton, you can't go through life trying to intimidate information out of everyone you meet."

"It normally works well," he retorted and shook his head. Debating with his mother could be entertaining, but he rarely won. She found examples and loopholes in all his defenses. Hell, she could have been a top-level lawyer with those uncanny skills if she wanted. Instead, she worked menial jobs, putting her dreams aside in order to care for him. He respected her all the more for her tenacity in yanking them both from an abusive relationship, moving halfway across the country, and starting from scratch. Not something any meek or timid woman would do. It only proved she carried all the bravery of her father, a man who served in World War II as one of the infamous Navajo Code Talkers. His grandfather returned home under a rigid vow of silence to the military with its highly classified status. Tragically, he passed away a mere two years later in a farming accident.

Night regretted, not for the first time, the missed opportunity to meet his esteemed and courageous grandfather. The stories he would have loved to hear in his native tongue, just the ability to sit down with the man, a war hero, and hear what wisdom the man had to impart.

He enlisted in the army, wanting to follow in his grandfather's footsteps, or as close as he could get. In a short time, he climbed to the ranks of the prestigious Green Berets. After serving for five years on active duty, toughing out mission after grueling mission, he realized the job no longer appealed to him. Stereotyping and prejudice still existed, though no one with power in the army would ever admit to such a thing. More than once, he fell short of promotion due to his heritage and coloring. For an organization that prided itself on equality, he rarely saw that in action.

Whether it was due to burnout or fatigue or simply needing a new direction in life and being sick of the bias, he resigned his position and decided to enter the private security market. From there, he quickly picked up ideas, tips, and the mechanics of how a business worked. Pulling a couple of strings, he tied his newly formed company to a top official in the government, one with deep pockets and the authority to contract missions. Missions that required elimination of one hidden viper after another while staying well beneath the radar.

The military couldn't be tied to such events, preferring to keep their noses clean with the notion of justice and trials, and using deadly force only when absolutely necessary. His position allowed much more flexibility and leniency, which he passed on to his employees.

Everything he wanted while serving in the miltary now became possible. Wages and hazard pay were well above what a typical solider made. Independence and group decision making held top priority as well the ability to turn down any assignment. By treating his men the way he wanted to be treated, they meshed well, covered one another's backs, became close comrades and friends, and filled their bank accounts for their efforts in dangerous and even suicidal situations. Not a bad life for those that lived on adrenalin.

"Colton? Oh, Colton?"

He glanced up at his mother.

She shook her head. "Daydreaming? Perhaps Summer has piqued your interest after all?"

The mention of Summer's name recalled the image of her standing up to him, her dark eyes flashing with ire, her smaller frame tense, while she rebuked his efforts to delve into her business. No wimpiness in that one. A man could do worse in a woman. "Would you stop already with the matchmaking? I'm not interested in Summer or any other woman right now." He glared at her.

She tsked. "You shouldn't lie to your mother."

With a growl of frustration, he stormed out of the living room, heading directly for his office.