下载掌阅APP，畅读海量书库
立即打开
Erin De Laney’s hands were already shaking when her old Honda decided to get a bad case of mechanical indigestion. Just as she maneuvered the car around a sharp curve, it belched like a locomotive suddenly out of steam, lurched three times, and stopped on the gravel road with a shudder. The ensuing silence was punctuated by popping sounds from the cooling engine. She released a pent-up breath and let her shoulders go limp against the back of the driver’s seat. A local mechanic had warned her the Honda’s fuel pump was about to cock up its toes, but she’d taken a gamble that it would keep working until payday. Since Lady Luck had never been her friend, she was tempted to thump herself on the head. Now, here she sat, miles from home, in a vehicle that wouldn’t move until a tow truck transported it into town.
Erin gazed out the dusty windshield dappled with afternoon sunlight that slanted through the needle-laden boughs of countless ponderosa pines. At least she would have a pleasing view while she waited for help. She loved her new hometown of Mystic Creek, Oregon, and the beautiful, mountainous terrain that surrounded the small valley where it rested. No matter where she was, she could find something lovely to admire. Unfortunately, that was the only plus in her otherwise dead-end life. Maybe Mary Poppins or Pollyanna would look on the bright side, but Erin’s inner sunshine had blinked out.
Normally she didn’t embrace gloomy thoughts, but having just attended her uncle Slade’s wedding and witnessing so much love and hard-won happiness, she felt depression riding her shoulders like an oxbow. True love, a reason for being. She was glad that her uncle had finally found that. In fact, she was pleased for everyone involved that all had come right for Slade and his new wife, Vickie, in the end. But seeing so many faces aglow with joy had filled her with yearning for a taste of the same, and it was such an unlikely scenario that it made her feel empty and alone. She hated her job as a county deputy. Her social life consisted mostly of chatting with old ladies about their cats. She couldn’t get a guy to give her a second look. She wasn’t even sure anyone gave her a first look. And now her only form of transportation had petered out on her. Where in all of that was a silver lining?
She drew her cell phone from the pocket of her floral-pattern skirt to call for a tow truck, but before she dialed, it struck her that she should probably at least get out and lift the hood of her car. Otherwise she’d look like a helpless female, and that wasn’t and never would be her MO. Other wedding guests would be traveling this road soon as they drove back to town. It was one thing for Erin to know she was pathetic; it was quite another to allow herself to look pathetic.
After releasing her seat belt and gathering the folds of her skirt, she pushed open the driver’s door and stepped onto the gravel road. Sharp-edged rocks rolled under the soles of her pink heels, reminding her of how sore her feet were from wearing impractical footwear on a lumpy lawn all afternoon. Given her druthers, she chose to wear boots, county-issue riding boots when she was on duty and black commando boots when she wasn’t. They never pinched her toes, and she didn’t wobble like a tightrope walker when she wore them.
Tottering and wincing, she circled the front bumper of her car and popped up the hood. One thing her father had never insisted that she learn was how to do mechanic work. She peered into the greasy abyss and acknowledged that she recognized three things: the battery, the oil cap, and the windshield-cleaner reservoir. The unpleasant smell of gasoline wafted to her nose, verifying that the fuel pump had indeed malfunctioned. She deserved a gold star just for figuring out that much. Automobiles mystified her. Half the time, she wasn’t sure what a warning light meant.
She wanted a life partner, not just someone to cheer her on when her confidence flagged, but a companion to watch movies with, dine out with her, and believe in her. She was lonely, damn it. Oh, sure, she had her best friend, Julie Price, to keep her company, but that was different. And, of course, she had Uncle Slade, who loved her dearly and was always there if she needed him. With his marriage to his lifelong sweetheart today, Erin had accumulated a heap of new relatives as well: her first cousin, Brody; his wife, Marissa; and their three sons, plus a gaggle of cousins and second cousins by marriage. Raised as an only child by parents who didn’t socialize much with relatives, Erin appreciated having extended family for the first time in her memory. But having friends and relations wasn’t the same as having one special person she could call her own.
Just then, she heard the rumble of a diesel engine. She quickly got a little grease on her hands so it would appear that she’d been tinkering with the engine. Then she straightened and peered around the uplifted hood. When she saw a late-model, silver Dodge pickup, she almost groaned. Not Wyatt Fitzgerald. Please, God, not now . Only it was Wyatt, of course. After being the recipient of his disdain all afternoon, she wanted to grind her teeth.
The driver’s door opened. His dog, Domino, leaped out and raced toward Erin. A beautiful border collie mix, he had long, silky black fur splashed with white.
“Hello, sweet boy.” Erin didn’t want to pet him with greasy hands, but Domino reared up, planted his paws on her chest, and bathed her chin with doggy kisses, which gave her no choice. “Yes, I’m glad to see you, too.”
She wished she could say the same for his owner, who strode toward her with a well-oiled shift of his narrow hips. She had just seen Wyatt a few minutes ago at the reception, and there was no reason for her to drink in every detail of his appearance again, but he’d changed out of a Western-cut suit into work clothes, and he looked as sexy as a guy could get. Tall, well-muscled, and lean, he had the broad shoulders and deep chest of a man who pitted his strength against the elements every day. Beneath his tan Stetson, hair the color of an August wheat field fell as straight as a bullet to the yoke of his red shirt. His eyes, as blue as laser beams, struck a startling contrast to his sun-burnished face.
She forced her attention back to the dog before Wyatt could chastise him for jumping up and said, “It’s been at least twenty minutes since we saw each other, which is seven times longer for a dog than it is for people, so I understand his excitement. Please don’t scold him.”
* * *
The last person Wyatt Fitzgerald wanted to see was Erin De Laney. For a man like him, she meant nothing but trouble. For starters, she was pretty, with her wealth of dark hair, dainty features, and expressive blue eyes. And she obviously felt as attracted to him as he was to her. Not happening. He’d sworn off women six years ago, and that was one promise to himself that he meant to keep. He’d be especially cautious with Erin, a county deputy. If he messed up with her, she wouldn’t have to call the law on him; she was the law.
“Most people try to coast over to the side of the road when their cars break down,” he called out. “When I came around that curve, I had to lock up the brakes to keep from turning that car into a Honda pancake.”
She continued to pet his ill-mannered dog. “You’re assuming that all cars continue to roll after the engine dies. My Honda did a three-count burp and stopped dead in its tracks.”
“You should have recognized trouble with the first burp and steered toward the ditch on burps two and three. A stalled car in the middle of a curvy road is a hazard.”
She gave him a syrupy-sweet smile that didn’t reach her beautiful blue eyes. “How remiss of me. I’m sure you would have kept a much clearer head if you’d been behind the wheel. Unfortunately, not all of us are superior beings.”
Wyatt knew he was being a jerk, but he had no experience with women who had romantic notions about him. He didn’t know how to discourage Erin and be nice to her at the same time. So he was being a jackass. That worked. She didn’t flirt with him when she was pissed off.
He shifted his attention to his dog, who was not aiding his cause. For reasons beyond him, Domino had fallen in love with Erin at first sight last September and remained besotted ever since. “Domino, off !” Wyatt ordered, disregarding Erin’s plea for leniency. It wasn’t her dog, and Wyatt didn’t want Domino to develop bad manners. “Off, I said!”
Erin dimpled a cheek and said, “He’s fine, Wyatt.” Then she resumed ruffling the animal’s fur. “Yes, you’re wonderful,” she told the dog. “It’s good to know that at least somebody likes me.”
Reading her lips to determine each word she uttered, Wyatt found himself wishing he could hear the intonations of her voice. Why, he didn’t know, because he felt sure every syllable dripped with sarcasm. During the wedding reception, she’d attempted to chat with him, and he’d shut her down. So now she was all butt-hurt about it. A part of him felt bad about that, but he couldn’t afford concern over her. For him, holding her at arm’s length was a matter of self-preservation. Today, he found her even more tempting than usual. The silky blouse and flowery skirt displayed her body in a way that a shirt and trousers didn’t, making him acutely aware of her physically. Not a good thing. Because of this woman, he’d recently awakened in the middle of the night from the first wet dream he’d had in at least fifteen years. Talk about embarrassing. He’d been surrounded by other men in the bunkhouse, and when he woke up, every other guy in the room had been sitting straight up in bed. Now, whenever Wyatt thought about that night, his stomach felt as if it shriveled up like a rotten walnut. Dear God . In his dream, he’d been making love to Erin, no holds barred. And although he hadn’t asked, he knew all the other men had guessed what was going on. Just our foreman, getting his rocks off . Poor, deaf bastard.
“What?” Erin demanded. “You’re glaring at me like I just popped your last birthday balloon.”
He hadn’t meant to scowl at her. Trying to smooth the wrinkles from his brow, he curved his lips in what he hoped resembled a smile. It wasn’t that he disliked Erin. Far from it. She just resurrected yearnings and feelings that he couldn’t allow himself to have. He wished he knew how to distance himself from her without making her feel rejected. Only how could a guy do that? He guessed he could explain, but in order to do that, he’d have to tell her things about himself she had no need to know. His checkered past was his business and only his business.
Deciding to ignore her comment, he said, “What seems to be the issue with the car?”
She gave Domino a final pat and gently pushed him down. “The fuel pump bit the dust.” She held up greasy hands. “There’s nothing for it but to get a new pump. That means my car will be at the repair shop for a few days.”
Wyatt dragged his gaze from her full lips to the exposed engine. He’d never met a woman with so many talents. He wasn’t really surprised to learn that they included shade-tree mechanics. She could make a guy feel inadequate without half trying. “Any way to jerry-rig it so you can make it into town?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Replacing the pump is my only option. I was about to call for a tow truck.”
Wyatt’s boss, Slade Wilder, was Erin’s uncle, so Wyatt knew she didn’t make much money as a junior deputy. Towing services didn’t come cheap, and the expense would put a dent in her budget. “No coverage for roadside services, I take it.”
“I canceled it last month. Doesn’t that figure? I paid the premiums for fifteen years and never needed to use it. Then, right after I drop the coverage, bang. Call it bad karma, I guess.”
Wyatt preferred to think of it as plain old bad luck, at least for him. She needed help, and he was elected. His pickup was capable of towing her car into town, and he couldn’t in good conscience allow her to call for assistance she couldn’t afford when he was already on-site.
“I can tow it in for you.”
She shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to bother you.”
She bothered him more than she could possibly know. “I carry everything I ever need in my toolbox, including a heavy tow chain. Unfortunately, I don’t have a tow bar, but that only means you’ll have to steer the vehicle and tap the brake when necessary so you don’t rear-end me. Think you can do that?”
She folded her arms at her waist. And a very slender waist it was. When she wore a uniform, which was most of the time, her attractive figure was buried under loose-fitting clothing, and her waistline was bulked up by a belt loaded with cop paraphernalia. Today, dressed in feminine attire suitable for a backyard wedding and reception, she looked good enough to make a man’s mouth go dry. And that was his whole problem with her. He couldn’t be around her without wanting to taste that kissable mouth of hers—and other parts of her as well.
“I can do that, yes. But, like I just said, I don’t want to be a bother.” She rested a slender hand on Domino’s head, her fingertips absently stroking his silken fur.
“No bother. I’m making a grocery run for the bunkhouse, so I’m going into town anyway. I’ll drop your car off at the Timing Light and then give you a lift home.”
“It’s Sunday,” she said. “Buck won’t be there.”
“He has a drop box for car keys. You can just lock up the Honda, drop your keys through the slot, and then give him a call in the morning to get an estimate.”
“An estimate won’t be necessary. That’s the only auto repair shop in town. Taking the car into Crystal Falls for competitive bids would cost so much that any money I saved would be wiped out by towing fees.”
Wyatt couldn’t argue the point. He placed a hand on the side of the truck box and vaulted into the bed, landing on his feet. Without glancing back at Erin, he opened the lid of his diamond-plate toolbox, grabbed the tow chain, which lay at the top because he used it often on the ranch, and then leaped back onto the roadway. “I’ll pull around and get in front,” he told her.
“I really don’t need a tow. I’ve got this.”
Wyatt was reminded of the first time he met Erin. She’d been just as stubborn about accepting his help then as she was now, and he responded with almost the same answer. “The boss won’t be happy if I leave you stranded out here.”
Her chin came up a notch. “It’s not exactly remote here. Dozens of cars will be returning to town on this road in a matter of minutes.”
“Exactly. And every single driver will see that I drove right past you.”
“I’ll tell them you offered to help and I declined.”
“Why not just accept the tow?” he pressed. “It’s a favor between friends.”
“We aren’t friends. You make no secret of the fact that you don’t like me. Now that I’ve made friends with Doreen at dispatch and get time off, I can finally visit the ranch more often, and whenever I do, you vanish as if I have a contagious disease.”
Wyatt knew he was guilty as charged. But he didn’t steer clear of her because he disliked her. The truth was that he liked her too much. “Whenever you visit, I’m on the clock. On any given day, I have a list of stuff to get done that’s as long as my arm. I don’t deliberately avoid you. I’m just busy.”
Her expression told him she wasn’t buying that. “Look,” he went on. “Whether I like you or whether you like me isn’t the point. Your uncle is my employer, and he’ll be pissed at me if I don’t lend you a hand. I need to keep my job, if it’s all the same to you.”
A subtle slump of her shoulders told him he’d won this round. “Oh, all right,” she said with a flap of her wrist. “I’ll let you tow the car into town, but only because I don’t want to cause any trouble between you and Uncle Slade.”
Wyatt didn’t care what her reasons were, only that she’d finally accepted his help.
* * *
Erin had taken high-speed driving courses as a law enforcement officer, which had led her to believe she could handle a car in almost any situation. But getting behind the wheel of a broken-down vehicle was a whole different kettle of fish. The power steering didn’t work with the engine dead, making the wheel difficult to turn. The brakes were also spongy, requiring more pressure on the pedal to engage them. On top of that, dust billowed up from the back of Wyatt’s rig, making her range of visibility about a foot in front of her nose. The interior of the Honda grew uncomfortably warm. Even if she’d been able to roll down the windows, which she couldn’t without power, she would have been breathing in dirt. As glad as she was not to be riding with Wyatt, she was exhausted and sweating by the time they reached the Timing Light.
Eager to escape the stuffy car, Erin opened her door and climbed out, fanning her face with one hand.
“You okay?” Wyatt asked.
“Just a little too warm. It’s not really that hot today, but when you’re inside a black car with the windows rolled up, it gets uncomfortable pretty fast.”
“Ah. I’m sorry. I’ll turn on the AC when I drive you home.”
Erin locked her car, located Buck’s drop box, slipped her keys inside, and turned to face Wyatt again, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. “I’m ready.”
“Where’s your purse?” he asked.
Erin clenched her teeth. “ Darn it! I forgot it in the car.” Frustration welled within her. She’d started carrying a handbag only months ago, and it hadn’t become an ingrained habit yet. She thought she saw Wyatt struggling to hold back a smile. “It’s not funny.”
“Anything important in it that you can’t do without until morning?”
“My cell phone. I have to have it with me at all times in case there’s an emergency at the sheriff’s department.”
He shifted his weight onto one booted foot and rested his hands on his narrow hips. The stance made him look every inch a cowboy. Until meeting him, Erin hadn’t found western attire attractive on a man, but now she did. That was just one more reason for her to resent Wyatt Fitzgerald. He messed with her head, making her look at things differently and analyze her reactions.
“Well,” he said in that slow, thoughtful way of his. “I can probably jimmy a door lock if you won’t make me your prime suspect the next time a car is broken into on Main.”
Erin rolled her eyes. In Mystic Creek, a car was robbed only about once a year, and the most likely suspect would be a teenage boy. “Of course I won’t.”
He jumped back into the bed of his pickup, which sent a shiver up her spine. He emanated strength and masculinity in everything he did. Plus, he was too handsome for words. Only a blind woman would fail to find him attractive. If she polled all the adult females in Mystic Creek, she’d probably learn that more than half of them felt flutters in their stomachs when they encountered him on the street.
When he jumped back to the ground, he held a flat piece of metal in his hand. There was a similar device in each of the county vehicles that Erin drove. She’d used one more than once to unlock cars for people who’d accidentally locked their keys inside.
Within seconds, Wyatt had her car opened. He grabbed her purse, relocked the door, and strode toward his truck. “Let’s roll out,” he called to her.
Domino greeted Erin with a face wash as she climbed into the cab of the pickup. She sputtered but didn’t scold the dog. As she settled on the seat and struggled to fasten her safety belt, she endured an ear wash as well. Wyatt glanced over to see if she was buckled up and collared the dog.
“Stop that, Domino!”
When the animal sat between them and faced forward, Wyatt pressed the ignition button. The diesel engine rumbled to life. He shifted into drive, stepped on the accelerator, and the next instant, Erin heard a loud thump followed by a lurch of the truck as it jerked to a sudden stop. She was thrown forward. All that stopped her from colliding with the dash was the strap across her chest, which flattened her left breast with crushing force and sent pain lancing over her rib cage.
“Damn it!” Wyatt shifted back into park, jerked out of his seat belt, and threw open his door. “I forgot to disconnect the chain from your car.” He swung out of the cab, strode to the back of his truck, and let loose with more curses. Erin had a bad feeling and got out of the vehicle. The front of her Honda was crunched like tinfoil. “Son of a bitch!” he said. “You left it in neutral?”
Erin bristled. “Oh, so it’s all my fault?”
He swept off his hat, raked his fingers through his blond hair, and then slapped the Stetson back on his head. “I’m not saying it’s your fault. I take full responsibility. It’s just that the car wouldn’t have rolled forward if you’d put it in park and set the brake.”
“No, it wouldn’t have,” she agreed. “Instead of the front end getting crunched, you could have just jerked the subframe out from under it and twisted it into a pretzel shape.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry, Erin. I’ll pay to get it fixed.”
Erin didn’t know why, but she started to laugh. It really wasn’t funny. Repairing the damage would probably cost five or six grand. But the expression on his face, a mixture of incredulity and frustration, was priceless. She placed a hand over her chest, which still hurt.
“I don’t get the joke,” he said. “I just ruined your car.”
“I think Buck does body work” was all she could think to say. “And he advertises on the radio that he offers payment plans. I’ll get it fixed and make monthly installments.”
“I can’t let you pay for the damage. I’m the one who did it.”
“While trying to help me. And, as you pointed out, I was at fault for not remembering to put it back into park. I can’t let you take the financial hit.”
“We’ll share the cost, then.”
Erin decided that was an argument that could take place later. “We’ll talk about it. Okay? For right now, I’d like to get home and make some phone calls. Maybe Sheriff Adams will lend me a county vehicle for a week or so. Otherwise I’ll have to rent a car. I live too far out to walk back and forth to work if the weather turns bad.”
“In spring, that’s a given. And now, thanks to me, you’ll probably be without wheels for longer than a week. Maybe closer to two.” He spun on his heel and strode toward the front of his truck. “Okay. Let’s get you home.”
“Wyatt?” Even as she said his name, Erin wanted to groan. The man was profoundly deaf and couldn’t hear her even if she screamed. Running along the opposite side of the truck bed and waving her arms to get his attention, she got him to stop just before he reached the driver’s door. His gaze became riveted to her face. “The chain, Wyatt? You still haven’t unhooked it.”
* * *
Wyatt could not believe that he’d forgotten to detach the chain from Erin’s car, not once, but twice. Being around the woman screwed with his brain. He never made stupid mistakes like that. If he had, Slade would have fired him years ago. But around Erin, he became a dimwit, so aware of her on a physical level that his thoughts bounced around inside his head like lottery balls in a blower machine. He needed to deliver her to her cottage, tell her goodbye, and get away from her before he did something else stupid. As it was, she probably thought his IQ was lower than the winter room temperature of a poor man’s house.
Disgusted with himself and unable to talk while he drove, he turned on the sound system, which he never used. She gave a violent start, and Domino started to bark, which Wyatt knew only because the dog’s front feet parted company with the leather seat each time he emitted a woof. Wyatt quickly turned off the stereo.
“What?” he asked as he fixed his gaze on Erin.
“The volume is way up,” she said. “So loud it almost burst my eardrums.”
“You turn it on, then,” he suggested.
She shook her head. “I’m good. Not in the mood for music.”
Wyatt wasn’t in a mood for small talk. “I can’t read your lips while I’m driving.” He flicked his gaze back to the road. “It’d be just as dangerous as texting.” He didn’t know if she agreed, disagreed, or said nothing, and he wasn’t about to pay less attention to the road in order to watch her lips. After messing up her car by making a stupid mistake, all the day needed was for him to have a wreck. “I thought music might compensate for the lack of conversation.”
He stared straight ahead. It seemed to him that tension electrified the air. He mostly drove with only his brother as a passenger. With Erin, it was different.
He felt relieved when they passed the city limits and entered Mystic Creek. He drove to the town center and took the roundabout. He saw Blackie, the pawnshop owner, and Ma Thomas, who owned Simply Sensational, standing by the water feature, chatting up a storm.
When he reached the turnoff for Mystic Creek Lane, he took a sharp right. He’d never been to Erin’s rental cottage, but Slade had told him where she lived, in a small, white cottage that backed up to the creek. He figured he could find it easily enough, and just following his nose would be far less trouble than asking Erin for directions. He’d have to pull over in order to know what she was saying.
She lived about halfway up the lane. The cottage sat well back from the road, a smallish structure with a picket fence. No garage. It was smaller than all the other houses they’d passed, and it was sorely in need of fresh paint. It did have a nice, covered veranda out front, though, and would have been cute with a few improvements and some landscaping. He knew firsthand that Erin hadn’t gotten much time off until a few months ago, and by then, the inclement weather and deep snow had prevented even a die-hard gardener from working outside.
He pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition. “Right place?”
She looked over at him. “Yes, and I’m wondering how you drove straight to it.”
“Your uncle told me where you live.”
“When?”
Wyatt frowned. “I don’t know. A while back.”
“Amazing. Directions to my house are engraved on your brain, but you forgot to unhook the tow chain twice.”
He bit down hard on his back teeth. She’d already given him a pass on the car debacle, so he knew she wasn’t pissed at him about that. If she was still upset because he hadn’t given her his undivided attention at the wedding reception, then she would just have to get over it. A man was either attracted to a woman or he wasn’t, and he owed Erin no further explanation. That was it, in a nutshell, at least on the surface, and as far as he was concerned, she could put her own spin on it.
“Thank you for the ride home,” she said. “I really appreciate it.”
“Smashed-up car and all?”
She shrugged, grabbed her purse, and opened the passenger door. “It was an accident.” She turned to scratch Domino between the ears. “Goodbye, sweet boy.”
After jumping from the truck, she slammed the door behind her with such force that Wyatt almost believed he heard the bang upon impact. He didn’t, of course. With the AC running to keep her comfortable, he’d rolled up all the windows, and he’d only felt a push of air pressure and vibration. She walked straight to her porch, up the steps, and to her front door without looking back at him. He sat there until she was safely inside. Then he reversed his truck out of her drive and headed toward town. He purposely didn’t look back, either. He did allow himself one glance into his rearview mirror, but if she was watching, she’d never know he had.
He released a taut breath and tried to relax. But his encounter with Erin had his nerves rubbed raw. She wasn’t an easy person to figure out. He’d given her every opportunity to be a complete shrew when he tore up the front of her car, and she had given him a bit of a hard time, but she’d drawn the line at his offer to pay for all the damage. Damn it . How could he continue to give her the brush-off when she could be bitchy only to a certain point before her inherent sense of fair play took over?
“Don’t look at me like that,” he told his dog. “I know you really like her. So do I! But here’s the thing, Domino. We guys can’t let our dicks overrule our brains.”
* * *
Erin’s little house smelled of the potato salad and deviled eggs she’d made last night for the wedding reception. One whiff reminded her that she’d left what remained of the food in the trunk of her car. By the time she could return to get it, the Honda might stink to high heaven. She cut through the living area to the kitchen, which boasted a cute bay window that overlooked the creek. That alcove and the recently renovated master suite were her favorite features of the house. After plopping her handbag on the oak tabletop, she struggled against an urge to cry. Instead of giving in to it, she went to the adjoining guest bathroom to stare at herself in the vanity mirror. She took in her dark hair, her blue eyes, her facial features, and what she could see of her upper body.
“What’s so wrong with me?” she asked her image. “Am I that unattractive? And even if that’s true, am I such an awful person that he can’t even be friendly?”
Erin knew it was silly to be so hurt, but she was. She felt like a teenage girl who’d crushed on a boy and been rejected. Well, she didn’t really know how that felt, she supposed. Growing up under her father’s thumb, she’d never had time to notice boys in that way. She’d been too busy trying to compete with them in sports in order to please her dad.
Erin pushed all of that from her mind, squeezed her eyes closed, and burst into tears. When she’d cried herself out, she fished her phone out of her purse and speed-dialed her best friend, Julie.
“Hello. I’m barely in the door from the wedding, girlfriend, and wearing only one shoe. After walking around on that grass in high heels, my feet are killing me and I can’t get the torture devices off fast enough.”
Erin bypassed a greeting and asked, “What’s so objectionable about me that he isn’t even interested in being my friend?”
“Have you been crying? Oh, God, you have. You sound all stuffed up. That isn’t like you.”
“Oh, that’s right. I’m so tough and masculine, I never cry like a normal woman.”
Julie sighed. “Erin, you need to listen to me. Are you listening? There’s nothing objectionable about you. And you aren’t tough and masculine. You looked absolutely beautiful today.”
“He ignored me all afternoon. Then my car broke down on the way home. Right in the middle of the road, of course. He barely managed to stop without hitting me. And he did not look happy when he realized it was my car.” Erin felt that pressure in her chest again, and this time the tears were so close to the surface that they erupted in a fresh flood. “If he isn’t attracted to me, fine . But why can’t he at least be friendly? What is it about me that turns men off?”
“Okay, okay. You’re talking about Wyatt, right?”
Erin blinked and wiped under one eye. “Of course I’m talking about Wyatt. Who else?”
Julie sighed. “All right. I’m coming over with chocolate and wine, a surefire cure for whatever ails you, even PMS.”
“Chocolate and wine?” Erin laughed through her tears. “It is Sunday afternoon. I’m off duty. A girls night sounds like just what the doctor ordered.”
“Awesome. While you’re waiting for me to get there, run a hot bath, strip off your clothes, and sink down in the water until it’s up to your chin. It’ll relax you and make you feel a little better. I promise.”
Erin ended the call and went to her bedroom. After adjusting the water temperature on the garden tub, she rummaged in her pajama drawer for something besides an oversize T-shirt and sweatpants. When she found nothing, not even a top and bottom that matched, she almost started to cry again. Most women had at least a few lingerie items. The fact that she didn’t pretty much said it all. She wasn’t sexy. She did love lacy underthings, but that was mainly because nobody ever saw them.
She decided on a green-and-yellow University of Oregon T-shirt and a pair of athletic pants. Then, as Julie had suggested, she shucked off her clothes, caught her hair up in a band at the top of her head, and slipped into the water. As liquid heat surrounded her body, she sighed and decided Julie was right. She already felt better. She closed her eyes, forced her muscles to relax, and just breathed deeply for a minute before she turned the faucet off. Then she gave herself a pep talk.
“Why do you care if Wyatt detests you?” she asked herself. “Like he’s the be-all and end-all of your existence or something? Don’t be juvenile. You don’t need a man in your life. It was probably a woman like you who invented vibrators.”
She was still talking herself down when she heard the front door open. Julie yelled, “Hi, honey! I’m home!”
Erin called back, “I’m still in the tub! Pour us each a glass of wine. I’ll be right out.”
After giving herself a quick wash, Erin rinsed and vacated the tub. She toweled dry, slipped on her pathetic excuse for pajamas, and walked barefoot through the house. Just outside the kitchen archway, Julie had dumped her purse and an overnight case on the floor. She now stood at the counter, unloading her purchases from paper shopping bags.
“I’m staying the night,” she said, flipping back her long, dark hair with a jerk of her head. “If I’m going to get hammered, which I definitely plan on doing, I shouldn’t drive home. So I brought a change of clothes so I can go straight from here to my shop in the morning.” Then her gaze sharpened on Erin’s face. “Oh, boy. You aren’t a pretty crier. Your face is so red and puffy, you look like you’re having an allergic reaction.”
“I don’t cry very often. Doing it pretty must come only with practice.”
Julie drew out a bottle of wine and unearthed Erin’s corkscrew from the flatware drawer. “Just hang on, sweetie. A glass of vino and all the chocolate you can eat will make you feel better. I also got rocky road ice cream and takeout from Chopstick Suey . Your favorites: sesame chicken, orange chicken, spring rolls, and fried rice. Not a vegetable in sight. Well, little vegetable bits in the spring rolls, maybe, but otherwise dinner will be a heart attack waiting to happen. Just the way you like it when you blow your diet.”
With a hollow plunk, she popped the cork out of the wine bottle, grabbed two goblets from a shelf above her head, and poured their wine without ceremony. After handing Erin a glass, she said, “Bottoms up. I’ve never met a bottle of wine yet that can’t cure all my problems, at least temporarily.”
Erin clinked her glass against Julie’s. “To good friends who come running with chocolate and wine.” Forcing a smile, she lifted her goblet. “Here’s to you, and here’s to me. Best of friends we’ll always be.”
“I’ve heard that toast. Don’t say the rest, or I’ll take my goodies and go home.”
With a laugh, Erin helped put place settings on the table. Normally, she didn’t bother, but Julie was a stickler for proper food presentation. They sat across from each other and began opening takeout cartons. Afternoon sunlight slanted through the bay window to splash gold over the tabletop.
“Yum.” Erin knew her voice sounded flat, but she couldn’t help it. “Give me a few minutes. If I talk about it now, I’ll cry in my orange chicken.”
Julie took a big swallow of wine. “Do not cry just yet. I want to have my mouth full of melting milk chocolate before you start. I can handle almost anything then.”
That drew a genuine laugh from Erin. “Before I cry, I want a full tummy. I was too upset at the reception to eat. I didn’t even try my potato salad, and it’s my favorite recipe.”
“I tried it.” Julie gave her a thumbs-up. “Phenomenal.”
“I left it in the trunk of my car,” Erin said.
“Oh, no! It’ll get warm and ruin!” Julie shot up from the chair. “I’ll go get it.”
“You can’t. My car is at the Timing Light. The fuel pump cocked up its toes after I left the ranch. Then, thanks to Wyatt, the whole front end got smashed, so now it’ll need body work, too. Buck offers payment plans, thank God.”
Julie slowly resumed her seat. “Smashed? How did that happen?”
Erin held up a hand. “I’ll tell you about it as soon as I can blubber on a full stomach.”
When they finished eating, they adjourned to the living room and sat in two recliners turned slightly toward each other with an end table between them. Julie had brought the wine, Erin the goblets, and they were all set for a hen session.
“Now that it’s time to talk about it, I don’t know where to begin,” Erin said. “It’s been an awful day from start to finish.” She recounted to Julie how carefully she had dressed for the wedding. “I spent a whole hour on my makeup and hair alone. I wanted to knock his socks off. You know? But instead, he took one look at me and got as far away from me as he could.”
“Oh, sweetie. It may have seemed that way to you, but Wyatt isn’t normally rude. Maybe he was just—I don’t know—preoccupied.”
“He was preoccupied, all right. Thinking of ways to get away from me. Most of the time, I can just shrug it off. He’s been avoiding me for a while. But today . . . I don’t know. With all that happily-ever-after talk. Seeing the absolute joy on Uncle Slade’s and Vickie’s faces. Thinking about true love and wishing it could happen for me. Watching my cousin Brody, who didn’t even know Uncle Slade was his father a few months ago, standing beside his dad as his best man. It was all so perfect and romantic.”
“It really was,” Julie agreed. “And watching Brody and Slade together. Wow. They are so much alike, not only in looks, but in character and temperament as well. It’s sad to think of all the wasted years when they should have been father and son, but that only made today all the more meaningful and wondrous. It was about as perfect as a wedding can be.” Julie’s expression grew thoughtful as she swirled her wine and stared into its burgundy depths. “Watching all that made me feel sad, too. Attending weddings can do that to single women.” She took a sip of her drink and swallowed. “Did you know that single people who attend weddings tend to go off half-cocked and get married just to feel better?”
“Really?” Erin hadn’t been aware of that fact. “I can see it happening, though. If some guy proposed to me right now, I might say yes.”
“Me, too!” Julie exclaimed. “I’ve never loved someone the way Vickie clearly loves Slade, and I’d really like to experience that before I’m old and gray.”
“What about Derek? You said you loved him.”
“I thought so,” Julie mused aloud. “But as time passes to separate me from the pain of his betrayal, I realize that I was more in love with the whole idea of marriage and raising a family.” She shrugged. “Vickie and Slade have found the real thing.”
“I felt awful for envying them,” Erin confessed. “If any two people deserve to be together and happy for the rest of their lives, it’s Slade and Vickie. How selfish of me to feel sad for myself instead of being happy for them.”
Julie shook her head. “Stop! It wasn’t selfish of you, Erin. Today put me in a romantic frame of mind, too. How could it not? Who doesn’t wish for happily ever after?”
“It just made me realize how empty my own life is, and I felt so alone,” Erin confessed. “And hopeless. I wish I could meet someone wonderful, and the only guy I really, really like won’t give me the time of day.”
Julie reached for a chocolate kiss and popped it into her mouth. “It’s my opinion that your job as a deputy intimidates men. Most of the time when you meet guys, you’re in uniform with a loaded gun, a Taser, and handcuffs on your belt. Definitely not a sexy look. Well, maybe if a guy is into kinky stuff.”
“My job again,” Erin said with a huff. “I wish I’d never listened to my father. I should have chased my own dream to become a speech therapist. But if I start over fresh in that field, I’ll have to go back to school. I’ll be paying off student loans until I’m old enough to draw Social Security benefits.”
“Oh, you won’t be that old.”
“I’ll be over forty,” Erin interjected. “And the thought is daunting. How will I ever afford to buy a small house and get a new car if I spend half my life either in the wrong profession or paying for college tuition? And what about having babies? My thirty-fifth birthday is three years away. I can’t seem to get a guy to give me a second look.”
“Namely Wyatt Fitzgerald?” Julie twisted onto her knees in the recliner and poured each of them more wine. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Nothing about him adds up for me. He’s young, handsome, and physically fit. Yet as far as I know, he never dates. In my opinion there’s only one explanation for that, Erin. Women don’t do it for him.” She held up a staying hand. “Don’t say that I think every man I meet may be gay because of my ex. That isn’t true. Take Blackie, for instance. He’s attractive and doesn’t seem to keep company with women, but I don’t think he’s gay.”
Erin squinted at her friend to read her expression. Then she gasped. “Oh, my God, you’re crushing on Fred Black! What are you thinking? Blackie’s fifty if he’s a day.”
Julie’s cheeks turned pink. “It’s just—well, he comes into the Morning Grind almost daily for pastry and coffee. He sits at one of the inside tables, and we chat. He’s a really nice guy. And so what if I have a crush on him? The age difference is irrelevant. I’m no longer all soft in the head about having babies. I’m more interested in finding a mature and stable man whose company I enjoy. Blackie is mature and thoughtful and interesting.”
Erin held her tongue and sipped her wine, because until this moment, she had never heard Julie sing any man’s praises. Something was up, and even though Erin was tipsy, she realized that teasing Julie wasn’t appropriate. She finally said, “I really like Blackie. Practically everyone does. I’ve never heard anyone say a bad word about him. If you’re into him, I can’t think of a single reason you shouldn’t act on it.”
Julie got back into a comfortable reclining position. “I’m nervous about it.” She waved her hand as if to clear the air. “And I didn’t come over here to talk about my issues. We need to stay focused on yours. The way I see it, Erin, you’ve come a long way since you moved to Mystic Creek. You’ve broken so many bad habits that were drilled into you by your dad. I truly believe it’s the deputy uniform that’s preventing the single guys in town from asking you out.”
“Okay, I have to confess. I’ve looked into returning to college, and I found out that Crystal Falls University offers a degree in speech pathology.”
“Oh, Erin, that’s fabulous !”
Erin shook her head. “I’m pretty sure I can stay with Uncle Slade and Aunt Vickie while I do my coursework. Brody and Marissa’s new home on the ranch is almost turnkey now, and they’ll be moving into it soon, leaving Uncle Slade and Vickie with plenty of spare rooms in the main house. Only there would be so many hoops for me to jump through. I already have my bachelor’s degree, but I’ll need my master’s as well in communication disorders and sciences, and then I’ll probably have to do an internship and other stuff to get my license to practice. And once I do, I may have to travel in order to work unless I luck out and find a position in a clinic, which most likely wouldn’t be in Mystic Creek. And I’ve come to love it here. I really don’t know how I feel about living somewhere else. Maybe, if I had a partner I adored, and he needed to live elsewhere. But to take off and try to put down roots in a strange place all by myself, and leave everyone here that I love? It all just seems overwhelming.”
“I don’t like the thought of you leaving here, either,” Julie admitted. “But I also want you to be happy, and you aren’t in your present profession.”
Erin released a weary sigh. “I know, and thanks for understanding how I feel. A whole lot of people will think I’m nuts for wanting to leave the job I have now. I just feel—I don’t know how to explain it, Julie—trapped, I guess. So I know I need to make a change.”
Julie got tears in her eyes. “It’s hard for me to think of you leaving. No more girls nights. No more having you walk into my shop several times a day to get coffee you never have time to drink.”
Erin reached over to touch her friend’s hand. “No matter what I decide to do, nothing is going to happen quickly. I’ll get my parents paid back over the coming winter. Then, and only then, will I feel free to pursue an education in another field. Then I’ll be doing coursework for at least two years at the university in Crystal Falls and living in Mystic Creek during that time. I’ll be so tight on money that I’ll be visiting the Morning Grind every day to eat your stale pastry.”
They both burst out laughing at the thought, because Erin was always watching her weight and rarely indulged in bakery items.