Valentine's Child (28 page)

“She saved it all. Took it from Patrice for you and your baby. Kept right on taking it without a qualm. Proud as a peacock about it, as a matter fact.”

“You — talked to her?” Sherry’s tongue was too fat for her mouth. Everything circled in slow motion. Telling herself she just needed the support, she buried her face in J.J.’s warm neck.

“I talked to everybody. Elena, Patrice, Dee …” He let that one sink in but Sherry was too undone to react. “When I figured it all out, I headed straight for Seattle. I ran into Dee, first, and she told me you were going to pay off your debts and she didn’t want me screwing it up.”

“She said that?”

“And a lot more, besides,” he added with feeling. “So, I tracked down Elena, then came back and waited. You took your sweet time getting down here. I’ve been hanging around this place for days.”

“You’ve been waiting for me?” Sherry repeated.

“Yes.”

She couldn’t take it all in. “Elena took more money from Patrice?” she asked now, horrified.

“I was ready to turn her into the authorities for blackmail,” J.J. admitted, “But I decided to confront her first. It was a good thing. Gave me a different perspective. And then when I had it out with my mother, well, a few more things came to light.”

“Like what?”

“Patrice is a control freak. She’s always wanted to direct my life, and she wanted you out of it. Somewhere in her warped mind, she thought if she kept on paying you off, you’d look worse. The more money you took, the more evil you would be.”

“God,” Sherry murmured, shivering.

“It almost worked,” he said flatly. “I reacted just the way she expected, but then I realized the signature wasn’t yours.”

“How?”

“Providence,” he admitted, then pulled a piece of paper from his pocket that had been taped together. Sherry blinked in lack of understanding as she recognized the letter she’d written to J.J. when she’d first arrived in Oceantides. “This is a small town,” he reminded her with a laugh. “The maid thought I might like to read what you had to say. She gave it to me after I got back from meeting Mandy.”

“Oh,” she breathed, holding him tightly.

“I love you,” he said softly, his lips warm against her cheekbone. “I’ve always loved you. And I don’t want you to wait anymore.”

“You don’t?” Her voice quivered.

For an answer he fit her body snugly against his masculine contours. “Could you stand to live in Oceantides again?”

So much information. Too much. Too fast! Her senses swam with delight. Wait, she warned herself.
Be smart. Think. Don’t rush.

“If you’re asking me to marry you, the answer is yes,” Sherry replied, disregarding every bit of her own advice. “That is, if you and Caroline have called it quits …”

“It was quits before it ever started,” he admitted harshly. “And yes, you know I want you to marry me.”

Before she could respond he swooped in for a kiss. Sherry’s lips parted in surprise and J.J. slipped his tongue inside her mouth.

The kiss was long, hot, and filled with pent up desire. Sherry’s fingers wound in his hair. Her tongue danced with his and then she couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up from inside her.

“We have a daughter. I know she’s happy with the Craigs, but don’t you think she’ll be happy for us? I mean — ”

“I know what you mean. Of course, she will. She can visit us whenever she likes, as long as it’s okay with the Craigs. They want what’s best for her.”

“So do I,” he answered soberly.

“She brought us together again,” Sherry said.

They stared at each other for a long moment, savoring the rediscovery, then Jake took it upon himself to remind her of what the tree house had meant to them, his mouth moving down her neck as his fingers undid the buttons to her blouse.

And that was how Mandy came to have a sister, Angela, born on Christmas Day.

COMING SOON…

Everyone knew that Sammy Jo Whalen was looking for a husband. How else would she save her mortgaged-to-the-hilt ranch? But who would marry the sharp-tongue owner of the Triple-R? No man in his right mind, for sure. Sammy Jo might be one of the finest looking women in the county, but she was hard-headed, ornery, and an overall a pain in the ass. Unless she changed her ways, and soon, she was going to lose that ranch and all the blood, sweat and tears she’d put into it.

Then Cooper Ryan came to town and it looked like the long, tall stranger with the lazy smile had a serious hankering for Sammy Jo’s ranch — and maybe for Sammy Jo herself. Was he foolhardy, or sly as a fox? Maybe he was just what the princess of Coldwater Flats needed, or maybe he was about to flimflam her out of the Triple-R and her heart, too. Either way, sparks were about to fly and the good folk of Coldwater Flats decided to settle right down and enjoy the show.

Following is an excerpt from the opening pages of SUMMERTIME BLUES, the first book in the SUMMER LOVIN’ series duet.

Maggie Holt pushed through the cafeteria doors into the hospital corridor and told herself that, in her professional opinion‌—‌and, as a registered dietician, she was a professional‌—‌the food at Briar Park Hospital flat-out sucked. She wasn’t in charge of all hospital meal planning; she had a separate office on the west side of the hospital’s sprawling grounds for individual patient care. But honestly, the institution manager could really use some help. In fact, given the chance, Maggie thought –

She saw the two men outside the exterior doors, the one in front reaching for the door handle while the second was staring at him steadily, listening to him, and stopped short. The door cracked open and Maggie’s eyes darted around for escape, her heart racing in sudden panic.

“…sure you won’t join me? I could use a few more hours to extol Briar Park’s virtues. You know what I’m saying.” The man speaking was Dr. Emil Schorr, one of the hospital directors. The man he was speaking to was Tanner Baines.
Dr.
Tanner Baines. The love of Maggie’s misspent youth, and the last person in the world she wanted to run into.

Tanner was shaking his head. Said something about having to get going. By this time Schorr was half inside and Maggie didn’t wait for Tanner to change his mind. She pushed through the nearest door and found herself in the private dining room which could be reserved by appointment and luckily found it empty.

Tanner Baines. God. Maggie had just learned this morning that she would be meeting with his diabetic daughter and had been preparing for their afternoon session ever since. She didn’t know what that meant and had been living in fear that she would run into Tanner again, though she suspected the girl’s mother, Tricia Baines, would be more likely to bring her in. But maybe not. Tanner was a doctor. And here he was.

Oh, please, Lord, don’t let him come with her to the session.

Grinding her teeth together, she willed her heart to slow down.
It’s no big deal, Mags. It’s been years. A bad love affair. Everybody’s got them.

But her brain kept churning away. Recalling the first time she’d met Tanner Baines‌—‌in his bedroom‌—‌when she was fifteen years old.

If she let herself, she could still feel the scrape of bark from the gnarled oak beneath Tanner’s window as she shimmied up the tree; the thrill of danger as she hung from the upper limb, her toe searching for the windowsill; the shock of sliding inside to find that Tanner was silently waiting for her. She remembered his surprise at her sudden entrance and could still hear him asking in his drawling way, “And who the hell are you?”

He’d been naked to the waist, clad only in a pair of beat-up jeans, and it had been some time before Maggie could explain why she’d come. Even then he’d regarded her with narrow-eyed suspicion, certain she’d had some ulterior motive beyond the one she’d stated.

Good. God.

Now, carefully, she opened the door to the corridor to see that Schorr and Tanner were both long gone. It amazed and annoyed her how fast she’d turned into a schoolgirl with just one look. This wasn’t like her. It wasn’t like her at all! All that was behind her and now she prided herself on her cool control.

Pushing through the exterior door with authority, she glanced around the parking area but there was no Tanner.

A male voice yelled, “Hey, Maggie!” and she jerked as if electrocuted.

But it was just Greg‌—‌Dr. Greg Collins‌—‌her…what? Lover? Boyfriend? Almost fiance? The one she wasn’t in love with. The one she was sort of trying to avoid.

“Meet me at Foster’s tonight? Six?”

“Sure,” she said, though she didn’t really want to. On the other hand, maybe this would be the time that she could break off whatever it was they had going.

“I’ve got news,” he said, and he gave her a quick kiss before heading back to the hospital.

So, have I
, she thought, dreading the impending break up.

Two hours later she was staring into the eyes of Tanner’s adolescent daughter, searching for some resemblance between Shelley Baines and her father. But there was little to distinguish her as Tanner’s child. The pale, somewhat sullen girl casting her resentful glances from behind a curtain of long brown hair was nothing like Tanner. Shelley’s resemblance to her mother, Tricia Wellesley Baines, was far more apparent.

“Dr. Kempwood notes here that you were diagnosed as diabetic several years ago and have recently been having trouble with dizziness,” Maggie said, flipping through the pages of Shelley’s file. “She wants me to check your diet.”

Shelley regarded Maggie with bored eyes and said nothing.

“You just moved here?”

“Uh huh.” She examined her fingernails.

“Do you think the change interrupted your usual habits, both with meals and your insulin intake?”

“I told the doctor everything already.”

“Okay, well, maybe you could help me out with the same information. Your file’s still incomplete.”

The girl’s gaze focused on the pin on Maggie’s lab coat. It read MAGGIE HOLT, R.D., and though Maggie was certain she must already know what it stood for, she said, “I’m a registered dietitian, and I’m Briar Park Medical Center’s nutrition consultant.”

“I don’t need help.”

“You carefully monitor your blood sugar levels?”

“You’re not my doctor,” she answered stonily.

“I’m just bringing myself up to date.” Shelley’s rebellion was more in her tone than her words. Her teeth were set, her young body stiff with affront, and she looked anywhere but directly at Maggie. “Are you here by yourself, or is your mother…or father...with you?”

“My mother’s dead.”

Maggie couldn’t prevent her stare of disbelief. Tricia
dead
? How? Why?
From last fall’s car accident?

The news swept over her in a wave of unreality. She’d heard tales about the accident, of course, but after the first buzz of gossip had died down she’d been left with the impression that Tricia Baines had been unscathed‌—‌while Tanner, one of Boston’s most noted surgeons, had lost the use of his right hand…and therefore his career.

Silence lengthened in the room. While Maggie tried to pull her thoughts in order, she saw the gleam of triumph in Shelley’s eyes. If it hadn’t been for the fear lurking there, too, she might have felt little sympathy for the girl. As it was, she said sincerely, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Is your father here, then?”

“No. I came with Mrs. Greer, our housekeeper. Dad is‌—‌my father doesn’t go out much.”

But I just saw him this morning
, she wanted to say, but didn’t. Shelley’s comment sounded like the truth, in the larger sense, and it was another piece of information Maggie didn’t want to hear. The hairs on the back of her neck rose.
Doesn’t go out much.

Drifting memories passed over her, snatches of conversation she’d heard, malicious bits of gossip that had nevertheless been burned into Maggie’s brain.

“The bones of his hand were crushed to dust…”

“His surgical career is over, completely over…”

“Looks like Lake Chinook’s shining star finally got what he deserved…”

She gazed down at the open file again. Shelley’s home was listed as Boston and there was no Oregon address as yet. But Dr. Kempwood wouldn’t have bothered sending her to Maggie if Tanner wasn’t planning on staying. And it sounded like Schorr had been trying to offer him a job.