Книга - ‘Tis the Season: Under the Christmas Tree / Midnight Confessions / Backward Glance

'Tis the Season: Under the Christmas Tree / Midnight Confessions / Backward Glance
Robyn Carr


Revisit Virgin River with two beloved holiday stories from #1 New York Times bestselling author Robyn Carr. Included is the bonus novella Backward Glance–available digitally for the first time.'Tis the season for family, friendship and the thrill of a holiday romance…Under the Christmas TreeWith snow falling over the redwood forests, secluded Virgin River is the ideal place to spend the holidays. Each year, the close-knit community gathers in the town square to decorate and light a massive tree. Carols are sung, hot chocolate is shared–and a surprise left under the Christmas tree is about to bring two special people together!Midnight ConfessionsHoliday kisses don't end with Christmas–there's still the New Year's Eve party at Jack's Bar to attend. Locals and newcomers alike find themselves eager for that special countdown…and that midnight kiss.So join us in Virgin River this year, where Robyn Carr's trademark humor, warmth and sincerity will have you celebrating the festive season in your favorite mountain town.







Together for the first time in one volume, two classic holiday stories—plus a bonus novella!—from #1 New York Times bestselling author Robyn Carr

’Tis the season for family, friendship and the thrill of a holiday romance…

Under the Christmas Tree

With snow falling over the redwood forests, secluded Virgin River is the ideal place to spend the holidays. Each year, the close-knit community gathers in the town square to decorate and light a massive tree. Carols are sung, hot chocolate is shared—and a surprise left under the Christmas tree is about to bring two special people together!

Midnight Confessions

Holiday kisses don’t end with Christmas—there’s still the New Year’s Eve party at Jack’s Bar to attend. Locals and newcomers alike find themselves eager for that special countdown…and that midnight kiss.

So join us in Virgin River this year, where Robyn Carr’s trademark humor, warmth and sincerity will have you celebrating the festive season in your favorite mountain town.


Praise for #1 New York Times and #1 USA TODAY bestselling author (#ulink_06b0b326-c304-519e-9177-bd82c1b6ee4f)

ROBYN CARR (#ulink_06b0b326-c304-519e-9177-bd82c1b6ee4f)

“As usual, Carr delves into the lives of others in town, laying the groundwork for future books.

This cozy read satisfies.”

—Publishers Weekly on The Chance

“Carr focuses her superior storytelling on one couple for a can’t-put-down read.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Chance

“A touch of danger and suspense make the latest in Carr’s Thunder Point series a powerful read.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Hero

“With her trademark mixture of humor, realistic conflict, and razor-sharp insights, Carr brings Thunder Point to vivid life.”

—Library Journal on The Newcomer

“No one can do small-town life like Carr.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Wanderer

“Carr has hit her stride with this captivating series.”

—Library Journal on the Virgin River series


#1 New York Times Bestselling Author

’Tis the Season

Under the Christmas Tree

Midnight Confessions

Backward Glance

Robyn Carr






www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)


CONTENTS

Cover (#uedeafce5-8ebf-5e1c-b678-1eaffb1f0d70)

Back Cover Text (#u8d146f53-4439-5e26-bb80-a29f5ab64f7f)

Praise (#ulink_0660715a-de54-5b90-80cc-0e93fa5250b0)

Title Page (#ubb1b3e92-d168-5a35-a006-15759ff534b3)

Under the Christmas Tree (#ulink_525c8048-ed8e-56fc-9e36-6d6bb41517f9)

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Under the Christmas Tree (#ulink_40fb518e-ba75-5ae4-8134-bed03da82fb5)

Robyn Carr


One (#ulink_2ba937ef-5848-5093-b73b-a26baf472f1f)

During the Christmas holidays a side trip through Virgin River was a must; the town had recently begun erecting a thirty-foot tree in the center of town, decorated in red, white, blue and gold and topped with a great big powerful star. It dominated the little town, and people came from miles around to see it. The patriotic theme of the decorations set it apart from all other trees. Local bar owner Jack Sheridan joked that he expected to see the three wise men any minute, that star was so bright.

Annie McKenzie didn’t pass through Virgin River very often. It was out of her way when driving from Fortuna, where she lived, to her parents’ farm near Alder Point. It was a cute little town and she liked it there, especially the bar and grill owned by Jack Sheridan. People there met you once, maybe twice, and from that point on, treated you like an old friend.

She was on her way to her folks’ place when, at the last moment, she decided to detour through Virgin River. Since it was the week after Thanksgiving, she hoped they’d started on the tree. It was a calm and sunny Monday afternoon and very cold, but her heart warmed when she pulled into town and saw that the tree was up and decorated. Jack was up on an A-frame ladder straightening out some trimmings, and standing at the foot of the ladder, looking up, was Christopher, the six-year-old son of Jack’s cook, Preacher.

Annie got out of her truck and walked over. “Hey, Jack,” she yelled up. “Looking good!”

“Annie! Haven’t seen you in a while. How are your folks?”

“They’re great. And your family?”

“Good.” He looked around. “Uh-oh. David?” he called. Then he looked at Christopher as he climbed down the ladder. “Chris, you were going to help keep an eye on him. Where did he go? David?” he called again.

Then Chris called, “David! David!”

They both walked around the tree, checked the bar porch and the backyard, calling his name. Annie stood there, not sure whether to help or just stay out of their way, when the lowest boughs of the great tree moved and a little tyke about three years old crawled out.

“David?” Annie asked. He was holding something furry in his mittened hands and she got down on her knees. “Whatcha got there, buddy?” she asked. And then she yelled, “Found him, Jack!”

The child was holding a baby animal of some kind, and it looked awfully young and listless. Its fur was black-and-white, its eyes were closed, and it hung limply in little David’s hands. She just hoped the boy hadn’t squeezed the life out of it; boys were not known for gentleness. “Let me have a look, honey,” she said, taking the creature out of his hands. She held it up and its little head lolled. Unmistakably a puppy. A brand-new puppy.

Jack came running around the tree. “Where was he?”

“Under the tree. And he came out with this,” she said, showing him the animal very briefly before stuffing it under her sweater between her T-shirt and her wool sweater, up against the warmth of her body. Then she pulled her down vest around herself to hold him in place. “Poor little thing might be frozen, or almost frozen.”

“Aw, David, where’d you find him?”

David just pointed at Annie. “My boppie!” he said.

“Yeah, he’s right,” Annie said. “It’s a boppie...er, puppy. But it’s not very old. Not old enough to have gotten out of a house or a yard. This little guy should’ve been in a box with his mom.”

“David, hold Chris’s hand,” Jack ordered.

And David said something in his language that could be translated into I want my puppy! But Jack was on his belly on the cold ground, crawling under the tree. And from under there Annie heard a muffled “Aw, crap!” And then he backed out, pulling a box full of black-and-white puppies.

Annie and Jack just stared at each other for a moment. Then Annie said, “Better get ’em inside by the fire. Puppies this young can die in the cold real fast. This could turn out badly.”

Jack hefted the box. “Yeah, it’s gonna turn out badly! I’m gonna find out who would do something so awful and take him apart!” Then he turned to the boys and said, “Let’s go, guys.” He carried the box to the bar porch and Annie rushed past him to hold the door open. “I mean, there are animal shelters, for God’s sake!”

The fire was ablaze in the hearth and there were a couple of guys dressed like hunters at the bar, sharing a pitcher of beer and playing cribbage. She patted the place by the hearth and Jack put down the box. Annie immediately began checking out the puppies. “I’m gonna need a little help here, Jack. Can you warm up some towels in the clothes dryer? I could use a couple more warm hands. There’s not enough wriggling around in this box to give me peace of mind.” Then suddenly, she herself began wriggling. She smiled a big smile. “Mine’s coming around,” she said, patting the lump under her sweater.

Annie knelt before the box, and David and Chris squeezed in right beside her. She took the wriggling puppy out from under her sweater, put him in the box and picked up another one. At least there was a blanket under them and they had their shared warmth, she thought. She put another one under her sweater.

“Whatcha got there?” someone asked.

She looked over her shoulder. The hunters from the bar had wandered over to the hearth, peering into the box. “Someone left a box of newborn puppies under the Christmas tree. They’re half-frozen.” She picked up two more, made sure they were moving and handed them over. “Here, put these two inside your shirt, warm ’em up, see if they come around.” She picked up two more, checked them and handed them to the other man. The men did exactly as she told them, and she stuffed one more under her sweater.

Then she picked up a puppy that went limp in her palm. “Uh-oh,” she muttered. She jostled him a little, but he didn’t move. She covered his tiny mouth and nose with her mouth and pushed a gentle breath into him. She massaged his little chest gently. Rubbed his extremities, breathed into him again and he curled up in her palm. “Better,” she murmured, stuffing him under her shirt.

“Did you just resuscitate that puppy?” one of the hunters asked.

“Maybe,” she said. “I did that to an orphaned kitten once and it worked, so what the heck, huh? Man, there are eight of these little guys,” she said. “Big litter. At least they have fur, but they are so young. Couple of weeks, I bet. And puppies are so vulnerable to the cold. They have to be kept warm.”

“Boppie!” David cried, trying to get his little hands into the box.

“Yup, you found a box full of boppies, David,” Annie said. She picked up the last puppy—the first one she’d warmed—and held it up to the hunters. “Can anyone fit one more in a warm place?”

One of the men took the puppy and put it under his arm. “You a vet or something?”

She laughed. “I’m a farm girl. I grew up not too far from here. Every once in a while we’d have a litter or a foal or a calf the mother couldn’t or wouldn’t take care of. Rare, but it happens. Usually you better not get between a mother and her babies, but sometimes... Well, the first thing is body temperature, and at least these guys have some good fur. The next thing is food.” She stuck her hand into the box and felt the blanket they’d been snuggled on. “Hmm, it’s dry. No urine or scat—which is not so good. Besides being really cold, they’re probably starving by now. Maybe getting dehydrated. Puppies nurse a lot and they were obviously taken from the mother’s whelp box.”

Jack reappeared, Preacher close on his heels. Preacher was tall enough that he was looking over Jack’s shoulder into the empty box. “What’s up?” Preacher asked.

“Dad! David found a box full of puppies under the tree! They’re freezing cold! They could be dying!” Christopher informed him desperately.

“We’re warming ’em up,” Annie said, indicating her and the hunters’ lumpy shirts. “About half of them are wriggling and we’ll know about the other half in a little bit. Meanwhile, we need to get some fluids and nourishment into them. They shouldn’t be off the tit this young. Infant formula and cereal would be ideal, but we can make due with some warm milk and watered-down oatmeal.”

“Formula?” Jack asked. “I bet I can manage that. You remember my wife, Mel. She’s the midwife. She’ll have some infant formula on hand.”

“That’s perfect. And if she has a little rice cereal or baby oatmeal, better still.”

“Do we need bottles?” he asked.

“Nah,” Annie said. “A couple of shallow bowls will work. They’re young, but I bet they’re awful hungry. They’ll catch on real quick.”

“Whoa,” one of the hunters said. “Got me a wiggler!”

“Me, too!” the other one said.

“Keep ’em next to your body for a while,” Annie ordered. “At least until we get those warm towels in the box.”

* * *

Because of a box full of cold, hungry, barely moving puppies, Annie had all but forgotten the reason she’d ended up in Virgin River. It was three weeks till Christmas and her three older brothers, their wives and their kids would descend on her parents’ farm for the holiday. Today was one of her two days off a week from the beauty shop. Yesterday, Sunday, she’d baked with her mom all day and today she’d gotten up early to make a couple of big casseroles her mom could freeze for the holiday company. Today, she’d planned to cook with her mom, maybe take one of her two horses out for a ride and say hello to Erasmus, her blue-ribbon bull. Erasmus was very old now and every hello could be the last. Then she’d planned to stay for dinner with her folks, something she did at least once a week. Being the youngest and only unmarried one of the McKenzie kids and also the only one who lived nearby, the task of looking in on Mom and Dad fell to her.

But here she was, hearthside, managing a box of newborn puppies. Jack rustled up the formula and cereal and a couple of warm towels from the dryer. Preacher provided the shallow bowls and mixed up the formula. She and Chris fed a couple of puppies at a time, coaxing them to lap up the food. She requisitioned an eyedropper from the medical clinic across the street for the pups who didn’t catch on to lapping up dinner.

Jack put in a call to a fellow he knew who was a veterinarian, and it turned out Annie knew him, too. Old Doc Jensen had put in regular appearances out at the farm since before she was born. Back in her dad’s younger days, he’d kept a thriving but small dairy farm. Lots of cows, a few horses, dogs and cats, goats and one ornery old bull. Jensen was a large-animal vet, but he’d be able to at least check out these puppies.

Annie asked Jack to also give her mom a call and explain what was holding her up. Her mom would laugh, knowing her daughter so well. Nothing would pry Annie away from a box of needy newborn puppies.

As the dinner hour approached, she couldn’t help but notice that the puppies were drawing a crowd. People stopped by where she sat at the hearth, asked for the story, reached into the box to ruffle the soft fur or even pick up a puppy. Annie wasn’t sure so much handling was a good idea, but as long as she could keep the little kids, particularly David, from mishandling them, she felt she’d at least won the battle if not the war.

“This bar has needed mascots for a long time,” someone said.

“Eight of ’em. Donner, Prancer, Comet, Vixen, and...whoever.”

“Which one is Comet?” Chris asked. “Dad? Can I have Comet?”

“No. We operate an eating-and-drinking establishment,” Preacher said.

“Awww, Dad! Dad, come on. Please, Dad. I’ll do everything. I’ll sleep with him. I’ll make sure he’s nice. Please.”

“Christopher...”

“Please. Please? I never asked for anything before.”

“You ask for everything, as a matter of fact,” Preacher corrected him. “And get most of it.”

“Boy shouldn’t grow up without a dog,” someone said.

“Teaches responsibility and discipline,” was another comment.

“It’s not like he’d be in the kitchen all the time.”

“I run a ranch. Little hair in the potatoes never put me off.” Laughter sounded all around.

Four of the eight pups were doing real well; they were wriggling around with renewed strength and had lapped up some of the formula thickened with cereal. Two were trying to recover from what was certainly hunger and hypothermia; Annie managed to get a little food into them with an eyedropper. Two others were breathing, their hearts beating, but not only were they small, they were weak and listless. She dripped a little food into their tiny mouths and then tucked them under her shirt to keep them warm, hoping they might mistake her for their mother for now, all the time wondering if old Doc Jensen would ever show.

When yet another gust of wind blew in the opened front door, Annie momentarily forgot all about the puppies. Some of the best male eye candy she’d chanced upon in a long while had just walked into Jack’s Bar. He looked vaguely familiar, too. She wondered if maybe she’d seen him in a movie or on TV or something. He walked right up to the bar, and Jack greeted him enthusiastically.

“Hey, Nate! How’s it going? You get those plane tickets yet?”

“I took care of that a long time ago.” He laughed. “I’ve been looking forward to this forever. Before too long I’m going to be lying on a Nassau beach in the middle of a hundred string bikinis. I dream about it.”

“One of those Club Med things?” Jack asked.

“Nah.” He laughed again. “A few people from school. I haven’t seen most of them in years. We hardly keep in touch, but one of them put this holiday together and, since I was available, it sounded like an excellent idea. The guy who made the arrangements got one of those all-inclusive hotel deals—food, drinks, everything included except activities like deep-sea fishing or scuba diving—for when I’m not just lying on the sand, looking around at beautiful women in tiny bathing suits.”

“Good for you,” Jack said. “Beer?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Nate replied. And then, like the answer to a prayer she didn’t even know she’d uttered, he carried his beer right over to where she sat with the box of puppies. “Hello,” he said.

She swallowed, looking up. It was hard to tell how tall he was from her sitting position, but certainly over six feet. Annie noticed things like that because she was tall. His hair was dark brown; his eyes were an even darker brown and surrounded with loads of thick black lashes. Her mother called eyes like that “bedroom eyes.” He lifted his brows as he looked down at her. Then he smiled and revealed a dimple in one cheek.

“I said hello,” he repeated.

She coughed herself out of her stupor. “Hi.”

He frowned slightly. “Hey, I think you cut my hair once.”

“Possible. That’s what I do for a living.”

“Yeah, you did,” he said. “I remember now.”

“What was the problem with the haircut?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Don’t know that there was a problem,” he replied.

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

He chuckled. “Okay, we argued about the stuff you wanted to put in it. I didn’t want it, you told me I did. You won and I went out of there looking all spiky. When I touched my head, it was like I had meringue in my hair.”

“Product,” she explained. “We call it product. It’s in style.”

“Yeah? I’m not, I guess,” he said, sitting down on the raised hearth on the other side of the box. He reached in and picked up a puppy. “I don’t like product in my hair.”

“Your hands clean?” she asked him.

He gave her a startled look. Then his eyes slowly wandered from her face to her chest and he smiled slightly. “Um, I think you’re moving,” he said. “Or maybe you’re just very excited to meet me.” And then he grinned playfully.

“Oh, you’re funny,” Annie replied, reaching under her sweater to pull out a tiny squirming animal. “You make up that line all by your little self?”

He tilted his head and took the puppy out of her hands. “I’d say at least part border collie. Looks like mostly border collie, but they can take on other characteristics as they get older. Cute,” he observed. “Plenty of pastoral breeds around here.”

“Those two are the weakest of the bunch, so please be careful. I’m waiting for the vet.”

He balanced two little puppies in one big hand and pulled a pair of glasses out of the pocket of his suede jacket. “I’m the vet.” He slipped on his glasses and, holding both pups upside down, looked at their eyes, mouth, ears and pushed on their bellies with a finger.

She was speechless for a minute. “You’re not old Doc Jensen.”

“Nathaniel Junior,” he said. “Nate. You know my father?” he asked, still concentrating on the puppies. He put them in the box and picked up two more, repeating the process.

“He...ah... My folks have a farm down by Alder Point. Hey! I grew up there! Not all that far from Doc’s clinic and stable. Shouldn’t I know you?”

He looked over the tops of his glasses. “I don’t know. How old are you?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Well, there you go. I’m thirty-two. Got a few years on you. Where’d you go to school?”

“Fortuna. You?”

“Valley.” He laughed. “I guess you can call me old Doc Jensen now.” And there was that grin again. No way he could have grown up within fifty miles of her farm without her knowing him. He was too delicious-looking.

“I have older brothers,” she said. “Beau, Brad and Jim McKenzie. All older than you.”

At first he was startled at this news, then he broke into a wide smile. Then he laughed. “Are you that skinny, fuzzy-haired, freckle-faced, tin-mouthed pain in the neck who always followed Beau and Brad around?”

Her eyes narrowed and she glared at him.

“No,” he said, laughing. “That must have been someone else. Your hair isn’t pumpkin orange. And you’re not all that...” He paused for a second, then said, “Got your braces off, I see.” By her frown, he realized he hadn’t scored with that comment.

“Where is your father? I want a second opinion!”

“Okay, you’re not so skinny anymore, either.” He smiled, proud of himself.

“Very, very old joke, sparky,” she said.

“Well, you’re out of luck, cupcake. My mom and dad finally realized a dream come true and moved to Arizona where they could have horses and be warm and pay lower taxes. One of my older sisters lives there with her family. I’ve got another sister in Southern California and another one in Nevada. I’m the new old Doc Jensen.”

Now it was coming back to her—Doc Jensen had kids, all older than she was. Too much older for her to have known them in school. But she did vaguely remember the son who came with him to the farm on rare occasions. One corner of her mouth quirked up in a half grin. “Are you that little, pimply, tin-mouthed runt with the squeaky voice who came out to the farm with your dad sometimes?”

He frowned and made a sound. “I was a late bloomer,” he said.

“I’ll say.” She laughed.

Nate was now checking out his third set of puppies.

“Why don’t I remember you better?” she mused aloud.

“I went to Catholic school down in Oakland my junior and senior year. I wasn’t going to get into a good college without some serious academic help, and those Jesuits live to get their hands on a challenge like me. They turned me around. And I grew five inches my first year of college.” He put down the puppies he’d been holding and picked up the first one. He became serious. She noticed a definite kindness, a softness, in his expression. “Annie, isn’t it? Or do you go by Anne now?”

“Annie. McKenzie.”

“Well, Annie, this little guy is real weak. I don’t know if he’ll make it.”

A very sad look came into her eyes as she took the puppy from him and tucked him under her sweater again.

Nodding at her, Nate said, “As much incentive as that is to live, I don’t know if it’ll do. How long were these guys outside before someone found them?”

“No one knows. Probably since before sunrise. Jack was in and out all day, fussing with the tree, and he never saw anyone. His little boy crawled under the tree and came out holding a puppy. That’s how we found them.”

“And what’s the plan now?”

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head.

“Want me to drop them off at a shelter for you? Then you don’t have to witness the bad news if one or two don’t make it.”

“No!” she exclaimed. “I mean, that’s probably a bad idea. Some of the shelters over on the Coast are excellent, but you know what it’s like this time of year. All those people adopting cute puppies for Christmas presents and then returning them in January. And returning them is the good scenario. All too often they’re neglected or abused. Wouldn’t it be better to take care of them until reliable homes can be found?”

“Who, Annie?” he asked. “Who’s going to take care of them?”

She shrugged. “I have a small house in Fortuna and I work all day.”

“What about the farm?” he asked.

She was shaking her head before he finished. “I don’t think so. My dad’s arthritis is bad enough that he slowly sold off the stock and my mom runs around like a crazy woman taking care of all the things that wear him out.”

“Your dad’s Hank McKenzie, right? He gets around pretty good for someone with bad arthritis.”

“Yeah, he’s proud. He doesn’t let on. But it would fall to my mom and I can’t ask her to take on eight puppies. And the whole family is coming home to the farm for Christmas. All thirteen of ’em.”

“Well, Annie, I can’t think of many options here,” he said. “I know a few vets in the towns around here and I don’t know one that would take this on. They’d put ’em in a no-kill shelter.”

“Can’t you help? You and your wife?”

He smiled at her. “No wife, Annie McKenzie. I have a real nice vet tech who’s going to keep an eye on the stable while I’m out of town over Christmas, but that’s the only help I have out there, and she doesn’t have time to add eight puppies to her roster.”

“Jack!” Annie called. She stood up. “Can you come here?”

Jack ambled over, wiping his hands on a towel.

“We have a situation, Jack,” Annie said. “Dr. Jensen can’t take the puppies and get them through this rough patch. He offered to drop them off at a shelter, but really, that’s not a great idea.” A couple of people had wandered over to listen in to the conversation, eavesdropping and making no bones about it. “I’ve volunteered at some of those shelters and they’re awesome, but they’re really, really busy at Christmastime. A lot of animals get adopted for presents, especially the really young, cute ones like these. You have no idea how many people think they want a fluffy pet for little Susie or Billie—until the first time the dog thinks the carpet is grass.”

“Yeah?” Jack said, confused. A couple more people had wandered over from the bar to listen in to the conference.

Annie took a breath. “It’s bad enough animals get returned. The worst case is they’re not taken care of properly, get neglected or abused or get sick and aren’t taken to the vet because the vet costs money. Sometimes people are embarrassed to return them and admit it was a mistake. Then they just take them to animal control, where they’re on death row for three days before...” She stopped. “It can be a bad situation.”

“Well, what are you gonna do?” Jack said. “Better odds than freezing to death under a Christmas tree.”

“We could take care of them here, Jack,” she said.

“We?” he mimicked, lifting a brow. “I see you about four times a year, Annie.”

“I’ll drive up after work every day. They’re kind of labor-intensive right now, but I’ll tell you exactly what to do and you can get—”

“Whoa, Annie, whoa. I can’t keep dogs in the bar!”

An old woman put a hand on Jack’s arm. “We already named ’em, Jack,” she said. “After Santa’s reindeer. At least the ones we could remember. Little Christopher already asked Preacher if he could have Comet. ’Course no one knows who Comet is yet, but—”

“There’s no mother to clean up after them,” Nate pointed out. “That means puppy excrement. Times eight.”

“Aw, that’s just great,” Jack said.

“Don’t panic,” Annie said. “Here’s what you do. Get a nice, big wooden box or big plastic laundry basket. You could even put a wooden border around a plastic pad from an old playpen, then toss an old blanket or a couple of towels over it. Pull the blanket back to feed ’em the formula and cereal every few hours. Or feed a couple or three at a time outside the box so you can wipe up the floor. Trade the dirty towels for clean ones, wash one set while you use the other, and vice versa. Oh, and at least two of these little guys need a lot of encouragement to eat—the eyedropper gets ’em going. I could take the littlest, weakest ones to a vet but, Jack, they’re better off with their litter mates.”

“Aw, f’chrissake, Annie,” Jack moaned.

“You can just grab someone at the bar and ask them to take a couple of minutes to coax some food into a sick puppy,” she said hopefully.

“Sure,” the old woman said as she pushed her glasses up on her nose. “I’ll commit to a puppy or two a day.”

“Annie, I can’t wash towels with puppy shit on ’em in the same washer we use for napkins for the bar.”

“Well, we did at the farm. My mom sterilized a lot,” she said. “Bet you washed shitty baby clothes in the same... Never mind. If you just get the towels, bag ’em up in a big plastic bag, I’ll do it. I’ll come out after work and spell you a little, take home your dirty laundry, bring back fresh every day.”

“I don’t know, Annie,” he said, shaking his head.

“Are you kidding?” Annie returned. “People will love it, keeping an eye on ’em, watching ’em plump up. By Christmas, all of them will be spoken for, and by people who know what to do with animals. These little guys will probably turn into some outstanding herders around here.”

“Nathaniel, did you put her up to this?” Jack asked.

Nate put up his hands and shook his head. He didn’t say so, but she did have a point. Adopted by a town, these puppies would get looked after.

“I can’t say yes or no without Preacher,” Jack said, going off to the kitchen.

Annie smiled crookedly as she listened to the people who had followed Jack to the hearth, muttering to each other that, sure, this plan could work. They wouldn’t mind holding a puppy every now and then, maybe donating a blanket, getting a puppy to eat, wiping up the floor here and there.

When Preacher trailed Jack back to the box of puppies, his six-year-old son was close on his heels. Jack tried to speak very softly about what all this would entail, but Christopher didn’t miss a syllable. He tugged at Preacher’s sleeve and in a very small voice he said, “Please, Dad, please. I’ll help every day. I’ll feed and hold and clean up and I won’t miss anything.”

Preacher pulled his heavy black brows together in a fierce scowl. Then, letting out an exasperated sigh, he crouched to get to eye level with the boy. “Chris, there can never be a dog in the kitchen. You hear me, son? And we have to start looking for homes right away, because some may be ready to leave the litter sooner than others. This has to be real temporary. We prepare food here.”

“Okay,” Chris said. “Except Comet. Comet’s going to stay.”

“I’m still thinking about that. And I’ll have to look up on the computer how you take care of a bunch of orphaned pups like these guys,” Preacher added.

Annie let a small laugh escape as she plucked the smallest, weakest puppy from under her sweater and put him back in the box. “Well, my work here is done,” she said with humor in her voice. “I’ll try to cut my day as short as I can at the shop, Jack. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Annie, they’re not your responsibility,” Jack said. “You’ve already been a huge help. I don’t really expect you to—”

“I’m not going to turn my back on them now,” she said. “You might panic and take them to the pound.” She grinned. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”


Two (#ulink_1f2b5ce5-12c4-5cb2-8606-d6522b6a2c05)

The puppies were found on Monday and Nate managed to stay away from the bar on Tuesday, but by Wednesday he was back there right about dinnertime. He told himself he had a vested interest—they might be about a hundredth the size of his usual patients, but he had more or less treated them. At least he’d looked at them and judged the care Annie recommended to be acceptable. In which case he didn’t really need to check on them. But Jack’s was a decent place to get a beer at the end of the day, and that fire was nice and cozy after a long day of tromping around farms and ranches, rendering treatment for horses, cows, goats, sheep, bulls and whatever other livestock was ailing.

But then there was Annie.

She was no longer a skinny, flat-chested, fuzzy-haired metal-mouth. Something he’d been reminding himself of for more than twenty-four hours. The jury was still out on whether she was a pain in the butt. He suspected she was.

She was tall for a woman—at least five-ten in her stocking feet—with very long legs. That carrot top was no longer bright orange—maybe the miracle of Miss Clairol had done the trick. In any case, her hair was a dark auburn she wore in a simple but elegant cut that framed her face. It was sleek and silky and swayed when her head moved. Her eyes were almost exotic—dark brown irises framed by black lashes and slanting shapely brows. And there was a smattering of youthful freckles sprinkled over her nose and cheeks, just enough to make her cute. But that mouth, that full, pink, soft mouth—that was gonna kill him. He hadn’t seen a mouth like that on a woman in a long time. It was spectacular.

She was a little bossy, but he liked that in a woman. He wondered if he should seek therapy for that. But no—he thrived on the challenge of it. Growing up with three older sisters, he’d been fighting for his life against determined females his entire life. Meek and docile women had never appealed to him and he blamed Patricia, Susan and Christina for that.

The very first thing Nate noticed when he walked into the bar on Wednesday was that Annie was not there. He smiled with superiority. Hah! He should have known. She talked Jack and Preacher into keeping eight tiny puppies—a labor-intensive job—promising to help, and was a no-show. He went over to the box and counted them. Seven. Then he went up to the bar.

“Hey, Jack,” he said. “Lose one?”

“Huh?” Jack said, giving the counter a wipe. “Oh, no.” He laughed and shook his head. “Annie took one back to Preacher’s laundry room for a little fluff and buff. He mussed his diaper, if you get my drift. It’s the littlest, weakest one.”

“Oh,” Nate responded, almost embarrassed by his assumption. “He hanging in there?”

“Oh, yeah. And wouldn’t you know—Christopher has decided that that one is his. Comet. Annie tried to talk him into falling in love with a stronger, heartier pup, but the boy’s drawn to the one most likely not to make it.”

Nate just laughed. “It was that way for me,” he said. “I was older, though. We had the most beautiful Australian Kelpie—chocolate brown, silky coat, sweet face, ran herd on everything. My dad had her bred and promised me a pup. Out of her litter of six, I picked the runt and practically had to hand-feed him for weeks. The other pups kept pushing him off the tit. I was fifteen and, probably not coincidentally, also small for my age. I named him Dingo. He was big and tough by the time I was through with him, and he lived a long life for a hardworking Kelpie. We lost him just a few years ago. He lived to be fifteen. ’Course, he spent his last four years lying by the fire.”

“You’d think a boy would pick the strongest in the pack.”

“Nah.” Nate snorted. “We don’t feel that strong, so we empathize. Can I trouble you for a beer?”

“Sorry, Nate—I wasn’t thinking. Fact is, I’ve been sitting on our nest on and off all day. I have a whole new appreciation for what you do.”

“Have they been a lot of trouble?”

“Well, not really, just time-consuming,” Jack said. “They eat every three hours or so, then their bedding has to be changed, then they nap, then they eat. And so on. Kind of like regular babies. Except there are eight of them and half of them need encouragement to eat. Plus, every so often, you have to check that they’re not too warm or too cold. I don’t want to freeze ’em or cook ’em. And the bar’s getting lots more company during the day—visitors to the litter. Since they’re here, they decide to eat and drink—more serving, cooking and cleanup than usual. Other than that, piece of cake. And if I ever find the SOB that left ’em under the tree, I’m going to string him up by his—”

“Well, hey, Doc Jensen,” a female voice sang out.

Nate turned to see Annie come out the back of the bar, Christopher trailing so closely that if she stopped suddenly, he’d have crashed into her. She carried a furry ball of black-and-white that fit perfectly into her palm. Looking at her, he realized he hadn’t remembered her quite accurately. Or rather, quite enough. Tall, curvaceous, high cheekbones, soft dark auburn hair swinging along her jaw, long delicate fingers... She was beautiful. And her figure in a pair of snug jeans and turquoise hoodie with a deep V-neck just knocked him out. Where the heck had this girl been hiding?

And why was he, a man who could appreciate cleavage and tiny bikinis, suddenly seeing the merits in jeans, boots and hoodies?

Then he remembered she’d been hiding in a little hair salon in Fortuna, under a pink smock.

He picked up his beer and wandered over to the hearth. Christopher and Annie sat on opposite sides of the box, which left no place for him, so he stood there in the middle.

Annie passed Chris the puppy. “Hold him for just a minute, then snuggle him back in with his brothers and sisters,” she said. “It’s good for him to be part of his family. They give him more comfort than we can right now.”

“A little maintenance?” Nate asked.

Annie looked up at him and smiled. “This is the part that gets to be a bother—without a mother dog to change their diapers and keep them clean, by the end of the day they’re looking a little worse for wear. Some of them actually needed washing up. My dad always used to say a little poop never hurt a puppy, but you let that go long enough and it will. Gets them all ugly and matted and sick.”

“You bathed him?”

“Four of them, without dunking them,” she said. “Can’t let them get cold. Preacher’s wife loaned her blow-dryer to the cause. Okay, Chris, he’s been away from home long enough now.” She reached into the box and pushed some puppies aside to make room, and Chris gently put his puppy into the pile. “They’ll be ready to eat again in about an hour. Why don’t you get back to your homework, or dinner, or chores, or whatever your folks have in mind.”

“Okay, Annie,” he said.

And Nate fought a smile as Chris vacated his place on the hearth. But before he sat down he asked Annie, “Can I buy you a beer? Or something else?”

She tilted her head and smiled at him. “I wouldn’t mind a beer, thanks.” He was back with a cold one for her in just moments and sat down opposite her. “I think they’re doing okay here,” she said to him.

He wasn’t a hard-hearted guy, but he only pretended interest in the pups, picking one up and then another, looking at their little faces. He’d rather be looking at her, but didn’t want to seem obvious. “Were you here yesterday?” he asked, studying a puppy, rather than her.

“Uh-huh,” she said, sipping her beer. “Ah, that’s very nice. Thanks.”

“You planning to come every day?” he asked.

“If I can swing it,” she said. “I kind of made a deal—if they wouldn’t hand them over to some shelter, I’d do my part. These little guys are just too cute and vulnerable. They could turn into impetuous Christmas presents, no matter how carefully the shelter volunteers screen the potential owners. And look at their markings—I’d say Australian-shepherd-and-border-collie mix. Outstanding herders. They should find good homes around here, and they’ll be glad to work for a living.”

Nate lifted his eyebrows. “Good guess,” he said. “You get off work before five?” he found himself asking.

“Not usually. I have a small shop in Fortuna—six chairs. It’s a franchise—my franchise. So I’m responsible, plus I have a large client list and it’s Christmastime. But I’m moving appointments around the best I can—a few of my clients will take another stylist in a pinch. And I’ve been training an assistant manager, so she’s getting thrown into the deep end of the pool because of these puppies. And I’m doing my puppy laundry and paperwork at midnight.”

“What kind of paperwork?” he asked.

“The kind you have with a small business—receipts, receivables, bills, payroll. Jack and Preacher are managing real well during the day when it’s sort of quiet around here, but when it gets busy at the dinner hour, they need a hand. And you heard Jack—he’s not washing puppy sheets with his napkins.” She smiled and sipped her beer. “We should all take comfort in that, I guess.”

“I guess.” He smiled. “How’d you end up with a beauty shop?”

“Oh, that’s not interesting. I’d rather hear about what you do. I grew up around animals and being a vet is my fantasy life. You’re living my dream.”

“Then why didn’t you pursue it?” he asked.

“Well, for starters, I had exactly two years of college and my GPA was above average, but we both know it takes way more than that to get into veterinary college. Isn’t it harder to get into veterinary college than medical school?”

“So I hear,” he said. “So, after two years of college...?”

She laughed and sipped her beer. “One of my part-time jobs was grooming dogs. I loved it. Loved it. The only thing I didn’t love was going home a grimy, filthy mess and not exactly getting rich. But I saw the potential and needed to make a living. I couldn’t focus on a course of study in college, so I went to beauty school, worked a few years, hit my folks up for a loan to buy a little shop, and there you have it. I do hair on two-legged clients now. And it’s working just fine.”

“And your love of animals?”

“I stop by this little bar every evening and babysit a bunch of orphaned puppies for a few hours,” she said with a laugh. “I still have a couple of horses at the farm. My dad got rid of the livestock years ago except for Erasmus, a very old, very lazy, very ill-tempered bull who my dad says will outlive us all. They’re down to two dogs, my mom keeps some chickens and their summer garden is just amazing. But it was once a thriving dairy farm, plus he grew alfalfa and silage for feed.”

“Why isn’t it still a thriving farm?” he asked.

“No one to run it.”

“Your brothers don’t want the farm life?”

“Nope,” she said. “One’s a high-school teacher and coach, one’s a physical therapist in sports medicine and one’s a CPA. All married with kids and working wives. All moved to bigger towns. And the closest one lives a few hours away.”

“What about you?” he asked.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. You sound like you love the farm. You love animals. You still have a couple of horses at your parents’ farm....”

She smiled. “I’d be real happy to take on the farm, but that’s not a good idea. Not the best place for me.”

“Why not? If you like it.”

She cocked her head and smirked. “Single, twenty-eight-year-old woman, living with Mom and Dad on the farm, building up the herd and plowing the fields. Picture it.”

“Well, there’s always help,” he said. “Hired hands for the rough stuff.”

She laughed. “Rough stuff doesn’t scare me, but I can’t think of a better way to guarantee I’ll turn into an old maid. My social life is dull enough, thanks.”

“There are ways around that,” he pointed out. “Trips. Vacations. Visitors. That sort of thing. Something to break up the isolation a little.”

“That’s right—that’s what I heard. Before I knew who you were, I heard Jack ask you if you had your plane tickets yet and you said something about Nassau, a Club Med vacation and lots of string bikinis. Right?”

For some reason he couldn’t explain, that embarrassed him slightly. “No, no. I don’t know anything about that Club Med stuff. A buddy of mine, Jerry from vet school, set up a get-together over Christmas with our old study group. We’ve only been in touch by email and haven’t been together since graduation. The Nassau part is fact, the string-bikinis part is fantasy. I’m planning to do some scuba diving, snorkeling, some fishing. I haven’t been away in a while.” He laughed. “Frankly, I haven’t been warm in a while.”

“You don’t get together with your family over the holidays?” she asked.

“Oh, they were gracious enough to invite me to join them all on a cruise. All of them,” he stressed. “My folks, three sisters and brothers-in-law, four nephews and two nieces. It’s going to be hell to give up all that shuffleboard, but I’ll manage somehow.”

“Do they ever come back here?” she asked. “You know—to the old homestead? Where you all grew up?”

“Frequently. They move in, take over, and I move out to the stable and take up residence in the vet tech’s quarters.”

“You and the tech must be on very good terms.”

He grinned at her. “She’s married and lives in Clear River, but we keep quarters for her for those times we have cases that are going to need attention through the night. She was my dad’s assistant before he retired. She’s like a member of the family.” Then he studied her face. Was that relief? “The family was all home for Thanksgiving,” he went on to explain. “It was great to see them all, and boy was I glad when they left. It’s madness. I have really good brothers-in-law, though. At least my sisters did that much for me.”

She sipped her beer. “You must be looking forward to your vacation. When do you leave?”

“The twenty-third. Till the second of January. I plan to come home tanned and rested.” And with any luck, he thought, sexually relaxed. Then he instantly felt his face grow hot and thought, Why the hell did I think that? He wasn’t typically casual about sex. He was actually very serious about it.

Annie peered at him strangely. “Dr. Jensen, are you blushing?”

He cleared his throat. “You don’t have to be so formal, Annie. Nate is fine. Is it a little warm by this fire?”

“I hadn’t noticed, but—”

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

“No. I hadn’t even thought about it.”

“Let’s grab that table, right there close by, before anyone else gets it. I’m going to tell Jack we want dinner. How about that?”

“Fine,” she said. “That sounds fine. By the time we’re finished, Chris will be back, ready to feed his puppy.”

* * *

Through the rest of that first week the puppies seemed to do just fine. Thrived in fact. So did Annie, and she hoped it didn’t show all over her face. There was no particular reason for Nate to show up day after day; the pups weren’t sick, didn’t need medical care and he hadn’t made the commitment to help that she had. Yet he returned on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. She’d love to believe he was there to see her, but it seemed such a far-fetched idea. So highly unlikely that she could interest a man like him through this odd doggie-day-care-in-a-bar that she wouldn’t allow herself to even think about it.

But he was there by six every day, right about the time she finished her puppy chores. He always bought her a beer, then Jack provided dinner, which they ate together at a table near the hearth. They talked and laughed while catching up on their families and all the locals they knew, getting to know each other in general. Although she knew this friendship would probably fade and disappear by the time the puppies were adopted, and even though traipsing out to that bar every day was wearing her out, she was enjoying his company more than she could admit even to herself.

“Did you always plan to come back here? To take over your father’s practice?” Annie asked him one evening.

“Nope,” he said. “Wasn’t part of my plan at all. First of all, I prefer Thoroughbreds to cows. I wanted to treat them, breed them, show them, race them. I did a couple of years’ residency in equine orthopedics, worked in a big practice in Kentucky, then in a real lucrative practice outside Los Angeles. Then my dad wanted to retire. He’d put in his time—he’s seventy-five now. Years back, he and my mom bought a horse property in a nice section of Southern Arizona, but they wanted to keep the house and stable, not to mention the vet practice, in the family. You have any idea how hard it is to build a practice with these tough old farmers and ranchers?” He chuckled. “The name Nathaniel Jensen goes a long way around here, even though I am the upstart.”

“So here you are...back at the family practice?” she asked. But she was thinking that he’d been rubbing elbows with big-money horse people. Society people, whom she’d seen at a distance at certain competitions and fairs, but knew none of. She’d been riding since she could walk, took lessons and competed in dressage, and so was more than a little familiar with the kind of wealth associated with breeding, racing and showing Thoroughbreds. The well-to-do could send their daughters to Europe for lessons, fly their horses to Churchill Downs in private planes and invest millions in their horse farms. Humboldt County farm girls couldn’t compete with that. She swallowed, feeling not a little out of her league.

“I said I’d give it a chance. My plan was to put in a year or two, save some money, maybe break in a new guy with an interest in the stable and practice. But I haven’t gotten around to that and it’s been two years.”

“I see,” she said. “You’re still planning to leave?”

“I don’t have to tell you what’s great about this place.” He smiled. “And I think I don’t have to tell you what’s missing. It’s kind of a quiet life for a bachelor. Remember that dull social life you mentioned?”

“How could I forget?” she threw back at him.

“You seeing someone?” he asked suddenly, surprising her.

“Hmm? No. No, not at the moment. You?”

“No. Date much?” he asked.

Startled, she just shook her head. “Not much. Now and then.” She thought for a moment and then said, “Ah. The vacation. Getting away to see if you can jump-start your social life a little bit?”

He just smiled. “Couldn’t hurt. And it’ll be nice to catch up with friends. We were real tight in vet school. We got each other through a lot of exams.”

“How many of you are going?” she asked.

“Five men, including me, two of them married and bringing wives. Two women vets.”

“Women vets? Married?”

“One’s still single and one’s divorced.”

“Gotcha,” she said. “I bet one’s an old girlfriend.”

“Nah,” he said.

“Come on—didn’t you ever date one?”

“I think I dated both of them. Briefly. We worked out better as study partners than...well, than anything else.” He took a drink. “Really, I want to fish.”

She took a last bite of her dinner. “Fishing is real good around here,” she said.

“I fish the rivers here. A little deep-sea fishing sounded like a good idea. Some sun would be acceptable. I have golf clubs,” he said with a laugh. “I used to play a lot of golf in L.A. Yeah,” he mused, “a little sunshine won’t hurt.”

After a moment she reminded him with a smile, “And soon you’ll be lying on a beach in the middle of a hundred string bikinis.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he said with a grin. “Maybe I should do more fishing around here if I want to catch the big one.”

* * *

By the time Sunday rolled around, Annie was back at the farm. She went early in the day so she could drop by the bar later that afternoon. Today, so close to Christmas, she was baking with her mother all day—breads, pastries, cookies to be frozen for the barrage of company—but she would have her dinner at the bar. Because of the puppies, of course.

“You’re very quiet, Annie,” her mother said. “I think you’re letting this adventure with the puppies wear you out. You’ve always had such a tender heart.”

“I am tired,” she admitted, rolling out cookie dough. “I’m getting up extra early, starting at the shop earlier so I can leave earlier, staying up late to finish work. And you know I won’t leave my house alone—I’m decorating for Christmas. I’ve been doing a little here and there, before and after work.”

“Then you shouldn’t be out here two days a week,” Rose McKenzie said. “Really, I appreciate the help, but I’m not too old to do the holiday baking.”

“I count on our baking as gifts,” Annie said. “So I’m glad to help.

“I didn’t realize we had a new and improved Doc Jensen,” she went on, changing the subject. “I thought it was still old Doc Jensen who came for the horses and Erasmus when you needed a vet. But when he stopped to look at the puppies, he explained he was Nathaniel Junior. You never mentioned.”

“Oh, sure we did, honey. His coming home was good gossip there for a while. He had some woman living with him, but she took off like a scalded cat. I don’t think we talked about anything else for months.”

“A woman? When was that?”

“A couple years ago. Some fancy young Hollywood girl,” Rose said with an indulgent laugh. “We ran into them a few times—at the fair, the farmers’ market, here and there.” Her mother was kneading dough as she chattered. “You know, you don’t run into people that often around here. They could’ve been here a year before anyone met her, but Nathaniel had her out and about. Probably trying to help her get acquainted. But it didn’t work too well, I guess.”

“I’m sure I would have remembered, Mom. I don’t think you ever mentioned it.”

Rose looked skyward briefly, trying to remember. “That might’ve been about the time you were preoccupied with other things. Like buying the Clip and Curl shop. And then there was Ed, and that ordeal with Ed. You might’ve had other things on your mind.”

Ed. Yes, Ed. She hadn’t exactly been engaged, thank God, but they’d been an item for about a year and she’d expected to be engaged. They had talked about marriage. She laughed humorlessly. “That could have distracted me a little,” Annie agreed.

“The bum,” Rose McKenzie muttered, punching dough more aggressively than necessary. “He’s a pig and a fool and a liar and a...a bum!”

Loving it, Annie laughed. “He’s really not a bum. He works hard and earns a good living, which it turned out he needed for all the women he had on a string. But I concede to pig, liar and fool, and I’m certainly not missing him. The louse,” she added. “I can’t remember now—why was it we didn’t let the boys shoot him in the head?”

“I can’t remember exactly, either,” Rose said. “I knew all along he wasn’t right for you.”

“No, you didn’t,” Annie argued. “You had me trying on your wedding dress about once a month, asking me constantly if we’d talked about a date. You expected him to give me a ring.”

“I just thought if...”

Ed was in farm-equipment sales and had a very broad territory in Northern California, a job that had him on the road most of the week. Then she learned that for the entire time they’d dated, Ed was involved with another woman in Arcata. About six months ago he’d decided it was time to make a choice, and he chose the other woman.

Ouch.

Annie’s pride was hurt, but worse than hurt pride was her embarrassment. How had this been going on without her getting so much as a whiff of it? When she hadn’t seen him, she had talked to him every single day. He never betrayed the slightest hint that she was not the only female in his life. And it made her furious to think he’d been with another woman while he was with her. She even drove to Arcata to sneak a look at her, but she couldn’t figure out, based on looks, just what it was that won her the great prize that was Ed.

Before she could ponder that for long, that Arcata woman found her, looked her up, informed her they weren’t the only two. Ed, as it happened, was quite the dabbler. He had at least one other steady girlfriend to spend the nights with.

Her tears had turned to fumes. She threw out everything that reminded her of him. She bought all new bedding and towels. Went to the doctor and got a clean bill of health. But at the end of the day when she grieved, it wasn’t so much for Ed as for the idea of Ed; she had invested a year in a man she thought would give her the stability of marriage and family, a settled life. The dependence of love. Security. When she thought about Ed, she wanted to dismember him. She wanted her brothers to go after him and beat him senseless. But not only would she never take him back, she’d cross the street to avoid him. So maybe Rose was right—maybe they both really knew all along he just wasn’t the one.

But neither was anyone else. She hadn’t been out on five dates since the breakup a little more than six months ago, and the number of boyfriends she’d had before Ed had come along were too few to count. She went out with her girlfriends regularly, but the best part of her life was spending a couple of days on the farm, riding, cooking or baking or putting up preserves with her mom.

The farmhouse had a wide porch that stretched the length of the house, and from that porch you could watch the seasons come and go. The brightness of spring, the lushness of summer, the burnt color of fall, the white of winter. She watched the year pass from that porch, as she had since she was a little girl. But lately it seemed as though the years were passing way too quickly and she wondered if she’d ever find the right partner to sit there with rather than alone.

A Hollywood woman? A fancy Hollywood woman? That would explain things like Caribbean vacations. Nate was drawn to flashy, sexy women. Or maybe the kind of women found in the private boxes at races or horse shows; Annie had seen enough of those televised events to know the type—model gorgeous, decked out in designer clothes, hand-stitched boots, lots of fringe and bling. Or the type seen at the fund-raisers and society events attended by the wives, daughters and sisters of Thoroughbred breeders, the kind of women whose horses were entered in the Preakness. Or perhaps he preferred medically educated women, like another vet who could appreciate his professional interests—the kind of women who also rubbed elbows with the well-to-do because of their profession.

But probably ordinary, sensible-shoes farm girls didn’t do anything special for a man like Nate.

Annie’s thoughts were broken when her father walked into the kitchen and refilled his coffee cup. He put a hand on the small of his back and stretched, leaning back, rolling his shoulders.

“Are you limping, Dad?”

“Nah,” he said. “Got a little hitch in my giddyup is all.”

“As soon as I’m through with this puppy project, I’ll make it a point to get out here more often to help.”

“The doctor says the best thing is for him to keep moving,” Rose said. “You do enough to help already.”

“You don’t remember that fancy Hollywood woman?” Hank asked, going back to the conversation he had overheard. Without waiting for an answer, he added, “Breeze woulda blown her away. Skinny thing. Could see her bones. Not at all right for Nathaniel.” He took a sip of coffee and lifted his bushy brows, looking at her over the rim of his mug. “You’da been more his speed, I think. Yeah, better Nathaniel than that son of a so-and-so you got yourself mixed up with.”

“I didn’t even know Nate Jensen was here until a few days ago, remember?” Annie pointed out. “And before that, I was with the so-and-so, and Nate was taken.”

“Yeah, you’da had to kill that skinny thing, but she looked near death, anyhow.” Then he grinned at her and left the kitchen.

“Will Nathaniel have his family for Christmas?” Rose asked.

“Actually, he said his parents, sisters and their families are going on a cruise. I gathered, from the way he said it, he’d throw himself off the boat if he were along. He said something sarcastic, like it would be hell to give up all that shuffleboard, but he’d manage.”

“Oh, you must invite him to join us for the holiday dinners, Annie. As I recall, he was friendly with one of your brothers when they were kids.”

“Mom, he’s not hanging around. He’s going on some highfalutin Caribbean vacation, meeting up with some old classmates from veterinary college, hoping to get lost in a sea of very tiny bikinis on the beach. Apparently his taste in women hasn’t changed much.”

“Really?” Rose asked. “Now to me, that sounds dull.”

“Not if you’re a single guy in your thirties, Mom.”

“Oh. Well, then take him some of these cookies.”

“I’m sure he couldn’t care less about home-baked cookies.” Not if what he prefers is some fancy, skinny, rich girl, she thought.

“Nonsense. I don’t know the man who doesn’t like home-baked cookies. Reminds them of their mothers.”

“Just the image I’d most like to aspire to,” Annie said.


Three (#ulink_301a839c-f9ab-526e-8c3e-e65518b88562)

Rose McKenzie insisted that Annie take a plate of Christmas cookies to Dr. Jensen, but it made Annie feel silly, farm girlish, so she left them in the car when she went into Jack’s Bar later that afternoon.

She gasped in pleasure when she walked in—the place had been decorated for Christmas. A tree stood in the corner opposite the hearth, garlands were strung along the bar and walls, small evergreen centerpieces sat on the tables, and the buck over the door wore a wreath on his antlers. It was festive and homey, and the fresh pine scent mingled with wood smoke and good cooking from the kitchen to complete the holiday mood.

It took her less than two seconds to see that Nate wasn’t there, which made her doubly glad she hadn’t trotted in her plate of baked goods. Maybe this was the day he wasn’t going to show. It wasn’t as though he had any obligation here. In fact, besides giving the puppies a cursory look and asking Annie if there was anything wrong with any of them, he didn’t do anything at all.

She gave Jack a wave and went directly to the puppies, which, in the past week, had gotten surprisingly big. Boy, if those weren’t all border collies, she was no judge of canines. Out of the eight, two were solid black with maybe a little silver or gray or perhaps a mere touch of white—the only indication another breed might’ve been involved. But they had grown so much! And they were doing so beautifully—plump and fluffy and adorable. Just like everyone else who passed by that box, she couldn’t resist immediately picking a puppy up and cuddling it against her chin.

Jack came over to the hearth and she grinned at him. “The bar looks wonderful, Jack. All ready for Santa.”

“Yeah, the women got it ready for their hen party. Cookie exchange tomorrow at noon—you should come.”

“Nuts, I’ll be at work. But tell them the decorations are beautiful.”

“Sure,” he said. “Annie, we’ve got a situation. We’re going to have to come up with another plan here.”

Instinctively she picked up Comet to judge his size and strength; he wriggled nicely. “Why’s that, Jack?” she asked.

He was shaking his head. “This isn’t going to work much longer. I can go another day, two at the most, while you figure something out, but the puppies have to find a new home. They’re getting bigger, more energetic, and giving off the kind of odor reminiscent of a box full of puppy shit. This is an eating-and-drinking establishment, Annie.”

“Are people complaining?” she asked.

“Just the opposite,” he said, shaking his head. “We’re drawing a nice crowd on account of the big tree and the cute little puppies. But you know puppies, Annie. They’re wetting on a lot of laps while they’re being held and snuggled. This is going to go from cute and fun to a big problem real soon.”

“Oh,” she said, helpless. “Oh.” Well, it wasn’t as though she had trouble understanding. It was different when the litter was in your downstairs bathroom or under the laundry sink in a home, or when there was a mother dog around tending the nursery. You just didn’t realize how hard that mother dog worked unless you had to care for the puppies yourself. Even when there were eight of them, as long as they were nursing, good old Mom licked them from head to toe, keeping them clean and dry. The second you started giving them solid food, Mom stopped cleaning up after them and it took no time at all for them to get a little stinky and messy. But under normal circumstances, that came at about six weeks, right about the time they were ready to leave the nursery anyway.

In this case, there’d been no mom, and the formula and cereal that went in one end came out the other. Their bedding couldn’t be changed fast enough or their cute little bottoms washed often enough to avoid a smell.

“What am I going to do?” she asked herself.

“We’ve got homes for some of them figured out,” Jack said. “I’m not sure any of them are ready to be out of the box yet, but we’ve got a few adoptions worked out. There’s Christopher, of course. He’s not letting Comet get away.”

“Comet’s not ready to be the responsibility of a six-year-old. He needs a couple more weeks. And good as Chris is with him, he’ll have to be supervised,” Annie said.

“I know. And I’m sunk,” Jack said. “David keeps babbling about his ‘boppie.’ I’ve been thinking about getting a dog, anyway, something to clean up the spills around my place. But...”

“And, Jack, you can’t turn a puppy this size over to a three-year-old boy any more than you can put him in charge of eggs and ripe tomatoes.”

“Yeah, yeah, when it’s time, we’ll be careful. And Buck Anderson, sheep rancher, says it’s about time to get a couple of new herders ready. He’s got a little child of his own and seven grandchildren. He can speak for two—his sons can help get ’em grown before they turn them over to the other dogs and the sheep. He’d like them to be Christmas dogs, though. Now, I know you don’t trust people looking for puppies as Christmas gifts, but you can count on Buck. He knows the score.” Jack took a breath. “I don’t like their chances if they won’t herd sheep, however.”

“Okay, that’s four taken care of,” she said.

“Couple of other people have been thinking about it, but that’s the progress so far. Did you realize everyone in town has named them after the reindeer?”

“Yeah, cute, huh? Jack, I don’t have a place for them. I guess I could take them to my house and run home between haircuts to make sure they’re fed and watered, but to tell the truth, I don’t have that kind of time. At Christmastime, everyone wants to be beautiful. And I try to spend as much time at the farm as I can—the whole family’s coming.”

“Maybe we need to rethink that shelter idea. Couldn’t they just look after them for a couple of weeks? Then we’ll take at least a few off their hands....”

Just then Nathaniel blew in with a gust of wind. He pulled off his gloves and slapped them in his palm. He looked around the recently decorated bar and whistled approvingly. “Hey,” he said to Annie and Jack. “How’s everything?” Silence answered him. “Something wrong?”

Annie stepped toward him. “Jack can’t keep the puppies here anymore, Nate. They’re starting to smell like dogs. It is a restaurant, after all.”

Nate laughed. “I think you’ve hung in there pretty well, Jack. Lasted longer than I predicted.”

“Sorry, Nate. If Annie hadn’t been so convincing, these guys would have gone to a shelter right off the bat. Or someplace way worse. At least we’ve figured out homes for a few—when they’re old enough and strong enough to leave the litter.”

“Yeah, I understand,” Nate said good-naturedly. “Well, if Annie promises not to bail on me, I’ll take ’em home. I’m pretty busy most days, but I have a vet tech at the clinic to help. And they don’t need quite as much hands-on care as they did a week ago—at least they can all lap up their meals without an eyedropper now. I can put ’em in the laundry room and close the door so they don’t keep me up all night.”

“Will they be warm enough?” Annie asked. “Are they strong enough?”

“They’ll be fine, Annie. Jack—what’s for dinner?”

“Chili. Corn bread. Really? You’ll take them out of here?”

Nate laughed. “Can we mooch one more meal before we cart them away? I’m a bachelor—there’s hardly ever any food in the house.” He draped an arm around Annie’s shoulders. “This one is spoiled now—she’s used to getting fed for her efforts. And two beers.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, lifting a curious eyebrow. “Coming right up.”

“After we eat, you can follow me home,” he said to Annie, as if the matter was settled.

* * *

Annie knew approximately where the Jensen clinic, stable and house were, but she couldn’t remember ever going there. You might take your poodle or spaniel to the small-animal vet, but the large-animal vet came to you, unless you had a big animal in need of surgery or with some condition that required long-term and frequent care. His stable also provided occasional short-term boarding for horses. And he had breeding facilities, but that also was most often done at the farm or ranch by the farmers and ranchers. Some owners of very valuable horses preferred to leave their prefoaling mares with the vet.

Nate transported the puppy box in the covered bed of his truck. They were bundled up with extra blankets and wouldn’t get too cold on the short ride. Annie followed in her own truck. They made a left off the main road at the sign that said Jensen Stables, Dr. Nathaniel Jensen, DVM. The road was paved, which was high cotton in this part of the world. It was tree-lined and the snow-covered brush was cut back from the edge. The road had to be at least half a mile long. Then it opened into a well-lit compound. The stable was on the left of a large open area, with a corral surrounding it on the side and back. The clinic itself was attached to the stable. There were Christmas lights twinkling in one of the windows. On the right was a sprawling, modern one-story house with a brick sidewalk that led up to double front doors of dark wood set with beveled-glass windows. Not a single Christmas light or ornament on the house at all. Annie wondered if the vet tech had decorated the clinic.

Between the house and stable were two horse trailers. One could hold six horses, the other two, and both were so fancy they probably came with a bar and cabin attendants.

The garage door at one end of the house opened automatically, and Nate pulled in. Annie parked outside and walked through the garage. She carried the formula and baby cereal while he carried the box, managing to open the door into the house and flick on lights with his elbow as he walked through the kitchen and then disappeared. The kitchen was the kind Annie’s mother would have died for—large new appliances, six-burner stove, double oven, work island with a sink. It was gorgeous. It looked newly remodeled.

Annie moved more slowly, peering past a long breakfast bar into a spacious family room with big, comfy-looking furniture and a beautiful fireplace. On each side of the fireplace were floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with leather-bound volumes.

“Annie? Where are you?”

She stopped gawking and followed the voice. She passed a very long, old oak table in a large breakfast nook inside bay windows that looked out on the back of the property. A sharp left and down a short hall took her past a bathroom, a bedroom and into a laundry room. In addition to cabinets, there was a stainless-steel washer and dryer, along with a deep sink. This was not an old farmhouse, that was for sure.

“I’ll use linens from the clinic to line their box,” Nate said. “They’ll be fine in here. Listen, I know you signed on for this duty, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to rearrange your schedule to get out here the first minute you can escape work every day. Virginia, my tech, can help during the day and I get called out sometimes, but this time of year, no one’s breeding or birthing, so it’s not usually too hectic. But—”

“Okay,” she said. “I won’t come. I’ll leave a number. If you need me.”

“Well, could you still come sometimes?” he asked with a laugh. “If you give me a hand feeding and cleaning up, I’ll thaw a hunk of meat to throw in the broiler or something. Nothing like Preacher’s, but edible. Just let me know when you can be here.”

“You have your tech....”

“I don’t like to ask Virginia to stay after five unless we have special patients—she wants to get home, have dinner with her husband. I’ll fix you up with a key, in case I’m tied up on a case and you beat me home.”

“Sure. Tell me exactly what you want,” she said.

He put his hands on his hips. “I want to know what’s wrong. Why are you frowning like that? You’ve been frowning since I walked into Jack’s.”

Mentally, she tried to smooth out her eyebrows, but she could still feel the wrinkle. She’d been trying to picture him with a trophy girl on his arm, that was what. Or with an equestrienne from a high-muck-a-muck ranch who raced or showed horses all over the world. Or maybe a mature and attractive woman his age who was as smart and successful as he was. And he was so damn handsome it wasn’t hard to imagine all this. But she said, “You’re downright chipper. This is exactly what you didn’t want, but you’re almost thrilled about having the puppies here. What’s up with that?”

He laughed. “Nah. I knew it was going to come to this. I’m glad Jack and Preacher handled them for that first week for two reasons—they had to be fed, dried and checked frequently, and I enjoyed stopping by the bar on the way home every day. Don’t know when I’ve eaten so well,” he added, rubbing a flat belly. “Now that it’s apparent they’re all going to make it, they only have to be checked and fed every few hours, something Virginia and I can handle during the day. I agree with you about the shelter. They’d probably be just fine—those folks are devoted, and they interview and screen efficiently before they let a tiny, orphaned animal out of there. But why take chances? If we have to use the shelter, we’ll just do so after Christmas.”

“That’s it? You knew all along you’d get stuck with them?”

He just laughed. “Come on, I’ll show you the house I grew up in, we’ll put on some coffee, feed the pups and put ’em down for the night. How about that?”

“You don’t have to show me the house. I’m not going to be poking around in here.”

He grabbed her hand. “I’m not worried about you poking around. Come on,” he said again, pulling her back through the kitchen. He took her through a spacious great room, where he said, “Many fights between my sisters happened here. When I grew up, there was old, floral, ratty furniture in here, but once everyone got educated and off Mom and Dad’s payroll, new things began to appear around the house. Things got updated and remodeled.” He pulled her down the hall, showed her where the master bedroom and three others were located. “I got the bed-and-bath on the other side of the kitchen. Kept me away from the girls.” Then he took a right turn off the great room. “Formal living room, used only on family holidays like Christmas, and dining room, used for overflow at big family dinners.” And then they were back in the huge kitchen.

“It’s enormous,” she said breathlessly. “It’s very beautiful. What must it have been like to grow up in a house so large?”

“I probably took it for granted, like any kid would,” he said with a shrug. “It’s still my parents’ house, though I doubt they’ll ever move back here. Come on, I’ll put on coffee.”

“You don’t have to entertain me, Nate.”

“Maybe I’m entertaining myself. I don’t have much company out here.”

The moment they had the coffee poured Annie remembered. “Damn,” she said. “Don’t move. I have something for you.” She dashed out the garage door to her car, retrieved the cookies and brought them in. In typical country fashion, they were arranged on a clear, plastic plate with plastic wrap covering them. “For you,” she said. “They should be warm, but now they’re nearly frozen. My mother insisted.”

“She baked them for me?” he asked, surprised, as he peeled off the wrap and helped himself.

“Well, kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“We baked together today. All day. We do that for the holidays. Stuff for the freezer, gifts for neighbors and for my girls at the shop. We bake on my days off for weeks right up to Christmas.”

“You bake?” he asked, looking mesmerized, maybe shocked.

She smirked. “All farm girls bake. I also know how to quilt, garden, put up preserves and chop the head off a chicken. I couldn’t butcher a cow by myself, but I know how it’s done and I’ve helped.”

“Wow.”

She was not flattered by his response. She’d hardly led a glamorous life and she’d much rather have told him she’d gone to boarding school in Switzerland and dressage training in England. “I bet I remind you of your mother, huh?”

He chuckled. “Not exactly. Do you fish? Hunt?”

“I’ve been fishing and hunting, but I prefer the farm. Well, I shot a mountain lion once, but that was a long time ago and I wasn’t hunting. The little bastard was after my mother’s chickens, and the boys had already moved away, so I—”

“How old were you?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know—thirteen or fourteen. But I’m not crazy about hunting. I like to ride. I miss the cows. I loved the calving. Ice cream made from fresh cream. Warm eggs, right out from under the chicken. I have more 4-H ribbons than anyone in my family. Erasmus, that mean old bull? He’s mine. Blue ribbon—state fair. I was fifteen when he came along—he’s an old guy now, and the father of hundreds. I have a green thumb like my mother—I can stick anything in the ground and it grows. I once grew a rock bush.” He threw her a shocked expression and she rolled her eyes. He recovered. “Just one of those plain old farm girls. Size-ten boot and taller than all the boys till I was a senior in high school. My dad calls me solid. Steady. Not the kind of girl men are drawn to. I attract...puppies. That’s what.”

He smiled hugely, showing her his bright white teeth and that maddening dimple. “Is that a fact?”

“Not your type, certainly. I’ve never had a string bikini. I wouldn’t know what to do with one. Floss your teeth? Is that what you do?”

He laughed. “There are sexier things than string bikinis,” he said.

“Really?” she asked. “The minute I heard you describe being lost in the middle of a hundred string bikinis, I got a picture in my mind that I haven’t been able to get rid of. It’s like having a bad song stuck in your head.”

“Oh, Jesus, don’t you just have a giant bug up your ass,” he said, amused.

“I have no idea what you mean,” she said, though she knew exactly. She was a terrible liar. “I didn’t even know you weren’t your father, you know. I had no idea you were the vet until you showed up at Jack’s. And today while we were baking, my folks told me that when you came up here to take over the practice, they’d talked about nothing else for months. I guess you brought your girlfriend with you. A beautiful, fancy, Hollywood woman.”

Shock widened his mouth and eyes. “Get outta here,” he said. Then he erupted into laughter. “Is that what they’re saying?”

A little embarrassed, she shrugged. “I don’t know that anyone’s saying anything anymore, and I don’t know who besides my folks saw it that way.”

He laughed for a long time, finally getting himself under control. “Okay, look. She was my fiancée, okay? But it was my mistake, bringing her up here, because she was far too young. I must have been out of my mind. She wasn’t ready to get married. Thank God. And she wasn’t a Hollywood woman, although she really wanted to be. Maybe she is by now, for all I know. Susanna was from Van Nuys. The only thing she knew about horses was that they have four legs and big teeth. She was twenty-four to my twenty-nine, had never lived in a small town and really didn’t want to.”

“And thin,” Annie added. “Very thin.”

He put his hands in his pockets, rocked back on his heels, lifted expressive dark brows and with a grin he said, “Well, not all over.”

“Oh, that’s disgusting,” she returned, disapproval sounding loud.

“Well, it’s not nice to talk meanly about past girlfriends.”

“I bet she looked great in a string bikini,” Annie said with a snort.

“Just unbelievable,” he said, clearly taunting her. “Now, why would you be so jealous? You don’t even know poor, thin Susanna. For all you know, she’s a sweet, caring, genuine person and I was horrible to her.” And he said all this with a sly smile.

“I am certainly not jealous! Curious, but not jealous!”

“Green as a bullfrog,” he accused.

“Oh, bloody hell. Listen, I’m shot. Long day. Gotta go.” She grabbed her purse and jacket and whirled out of the kitchen. And got lost. She found herself in the wide hall that led to the bedrooms. She found her way back to the great room, then to the kitchen. “Where the hell is the door?”

He swept an arm wide toward the door that led to the garage, still wearing that superior smile. What an egomaniac, she thought, heading for the door.

When she got to her car, she thought, well, that was perfectly awful. What’s more, he saw right through her. She was attracted to him, and because she knew there had probably been many beautiful women in his past, she’d let it goad her into some grotesque and envious remarks about the only one she knew of, Susanna. The child-woman who obviously had a little butt and nice rack. Why in the world would she do that? What did she care?

It probably had something to do with touring a four-thousand-square-foot custom home, beautifully furnished, across the compound from a spacious stable with a couple of horse trailers her dad would have killed for. Well, what was one to expect from a veterinary practice that served so many, over such a wide area? And not a new practice, either, but a mature one—probably forty years old. Established. Lucrative.

She’d grown up in a three-bedroom, hundred-year-old farmhouse. Her three brothers shared a bedroom and never let her forget it for a second. They all shared one very small bathroom. But she loved the way she’d grown up and had never been jealous a day in her life—why would she be now? Could it be that in addition to all that, she’d never gone to special, private schools, never worn custom-tailored riding gear, never could afford the best riding lessons or most prestigious competitions? Also, she had wide hips, big feet and a less-than-memorable bustline. “Oh, for God’s sake, Annie,” she said to herself. “Since when have you even thought about those things!”

How long had she been sitting here in her car? Long enough to get cold, that was how long. Well, it was time to suck it up. She’d go back in there and just tell him she was cranky, that being one of those “sturdy” farm girls who owns exactly one pair of high heels she can barely walk in, it just rubbed her the wrong way hearing about the kind of woman who could get the attention of one of the county’s few bachelors. Not that she wanted his attention, but just the same... She’d apologize and promise never to act that way again. She wasn’t usually emotional. Or irrational.

She walked back into the still-open garage, up to the back door and gave a short tap. It flew open. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulled her roughly into the house, put his arms around her, pressed her up against the kitchen wall just inside the door, and kissed her! His mouth came down on hers so fiercely, with such dominance and confidence, her eyes flew open in shock. Then he began to move over her mouth while he held her against the wall with his wide, hard chest, his big hands running up and down her rib cage, over her hips.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t raise her arms or let her eyes drift closed or even kiss back. She held her breath. What the hell...?

He finally lifted his lips off hers and said, “You like me. I knew it.”

“I don’t like you that much. Never do that again,” she said.

“You want me,” he said, smiling. “And I’m going to let you have me.”

“You’re conceited. I do not want you.”

He kissed her again, and again her eyes flew open. This time she worked her arms free and pushed against his chest.

“Well, hell, just kiss me back and see if I start to grow on you,” he said.

“No. Because you think this is funny. I came back in here to apologize for being crabby. I don’t care about that skinny woman. Girl. I’m just a little tired.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Annie. I think it’s kind of cute. But you don’t have to be jealous of Susanna. She’s long gone and I hardly even missed her. We weren’t right for each other. At all.”

“That’s what my dad said.”

“Hank said that?”

She nodded.

“What did he say? Exactly?” Nate wanted to know.

She shouldn’t. But she did. “He said I’d be more your type, but I’d have had to kill the skinny blonde first. He said she looked near death, anyway.”

Nate thought that was hilarious. He laughed for a long time, but he didn’t let go of her. “Good thing she left, then. She couldn’t hold her own in any kind of fight. She cried if she broke a nail.”

“I bet she was just one of many.”

He withdrew a little, but the amusement stayed in his eyes. “You think I’m a player.”

“How could you not be? It’s not like I don’t know about those rich horse people. And you’re the doctor! Of course you’ve had a million girlfriends.”

The smile finally vanished. “No,” he said. “I’m not that guy, Annie. Just ’cause I’ve been around those folks doesn’t mean I’m that kind of guy.”

“Well, there are the girl vets you’re going to the islands with,” she reminded him.

“Tina and Cindy,” he said with a laugh. “Shew. I hate to brag, but I’m thirty-two, Annie, and there have been a couple of women in my past. But I bet there are a couple of guys in yours, too. Tina and Cindy are just friends of mine.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure. Old friends and a hundred string bikinis.”

“Come back in and finish your coffee,” he said with a tolerant chuckle.

“I have to go. I have to get home to Ahab.”

“Who’s that?” Nate asked.

“My cat. Ahab. Tripod. He has a lot of names. He’s three-legged.”

“What happened?” Nate asked.

“I don’t know. I adopted him from the shelter when it was clear no one else would ever take him. He’s got a bad attitude, but he loves me. He’s very independent, but he does like to eat. I have to go.”

“Are you coming back tomorrow after work?”

“Are you going to be a gentleman?” she asked.

He lifted one of those handsome brows. “You want me to?”

No. “Absolutely. Or I’m leaving the puppies all to you without helping.”

“Just come tomorrow after work. Swing by home and feed your cat first so you don’t have to be in a hurry to leave.” He gave her a very polite kiss on the cheek that just oozed with suggestiveness. “I’ll see you then.”


Four (#ulink_7a4f9925-f7ef-5c2d-935f-0b1350b5b74f)

Christmastime in a beauty shop was always frantic and the Clip and Curl was no exception. There were less than two weeks till Christmas and Annie’s clientele, the clientele of the whole shop, wanted to look their best for parties, open houses, family visits, neighborhood gatherings. Appointments were one after the other. There was a lot of gossip, a lot of excited chatter. Annie was pretty quiet the next day, but there was plenty of talk in the place to cover the void.

Pam, who was older than Annie by a few years and had been married for ten, was training to be the assistant manager. While Annie was applying foil to strips of hair for highlighting, Pam approached with the appointment book in her hands. “We have three choices. We can turn away some of our best regular customers, stay open till nine a couple of nights or open up the next two Mondays to fit them in.”

“Why don’t people schedule ahead of time?” Annie asked.

“As you taught me, they expect to be accommodated and we can either do that or lose them to another shop.”

“Staying late is hard for me and you have a family. I don’t want to stick you with that duty,” Annie said. Then after thinking about it, she said, “Maybe I should work nights. That would settle that.”

“Settle what?” Pam asked, holding the large appointment book in her crossed arms, against her chest.

“Oh, that guy. The vet. You know.”

“Know what?”

“The guy at the bar, Jack, he said they couldn’t keep the litter of puppies there anymore. The dogs are doing very well, growing, which means they’ll soon be up to their eyeballs in puppy poop. Not a real appetizing prospect for a restaurant. So Jack said that’s it, they have to go. Dr. Jensen took them to his house, which is part of the whole stable-and-vet-clinic operation. And since I made a commitment to help...he’s counting on me coming over after work.”

“To his house?”

“Yeah. He said if I’d help, he’d thaw something for us to eat. We’ve been having a beer and dinner at that bar.”

“Listen, it’s up to you, Annie. It’s your shop. My husband’s on board to get the kids from school and take care of their dinner and homework. You know I need whatever hours...”

“Then you make the decision,” Annie said.

Pam lowered the appointment book and held it against her thigh. “Annie, I don’t need you to stay if the shop is open till nine or open Mondays for a couple of weeks. Two of the girls are willing to work a little extra to help pay for Christmas. But you have to feel comfortable about leaving me in charge. And I don’t want to push you to do that before you’re ready. You’ve run a pretty tight, one-woman show here.”

“Have I?”

Pam nodded. “But I don’t blame you, Annie. This is your shop, your investment, your responsibility. Whenever you think I’m ready, I’m glad to help.”

“Thing is, he kissed me.”

It became very quiet in the shop. Pam’s mouth dropped open.

“Nuts,” Annie said. There were no ears gifted with supersonic hearing like those found in a beauty shop, despite the noise of dryers and running water. She looked around the small shop. It was tiny—three chairs on each side of the room. Two dryers and two deep sinks in back. Behind that was their break room and Annie’s little office.

In the salon now were women in various stages of beautifying, rods, rollers, foils or back-combed tresses blooming from their heads. Beauticians with blow-dryers, curling irons, combs and brushes in their hands, poised over those heads. All silent. All waiting. “Talk among yourselves,” Annie instructed.

“Lotsa luck,” Pam said. “Is this guy, this vet, in any way appealing?”

Annie’s cheeks got a little rosy.

“Is he cute?” Pam asked.

Annie leaned toward Pam and whispered, “You’d wet yourself.”

And Pam’s cheeks got a little pink. “Whew.”

“Well, tell us about him,” someone said.

“Yeah, what kind of guy is he?”

“Should you call the police or wear something with a real low neckline?”

“How old is he? How many times has he been married? Because that’s key. Believe me!”

“Listen, I can’t talk about this,” Annie said. “I’ve known the man barely a week! And only because of these puppies! Honestly, if it weren’t for these puppies, we wouldn’t even know about each other. He’s a large-animal vet. He was just doing the bartender, Jack, a favor by looking at the orphaned litter.”

“Um, Annie, don’t you have large animals? Who’s your vet?”

“Well, he is, but I didn’t know that. I mean, my folks keep an eye on the horses and Erasmus. My bull,” she clarified for those confused stares in the room. “When they said they called Doc Jensen to the farm, I thanked them and paid the bill. I mean, it hardly ever happens that the horses or the bull needs something. I thought he was the same Doc Jensen who’d been looking after our animals since I was in diapers. But it turned out to be his son. Doc Jensen Junior.” She cleared her throat. “He’s thirty-two. And never been married.”

“Whoa,” someone said. Another woman whistled.

“He’s had girlfriends,” Annie said. “Not from around here. But when he came up here to take over his dad’s practice a couple of years ago, he brought a young buxom blonde fiancée with him and it didn’t work out, but—”

“Low neckline,” someone advised.

“Tight jeans. Snug, anyway. I mean this in the nicest way, but if you could think about a little extra makeup, like eyeliner and lip liner,” someone said.

“You don’t need that,” Pam said quietly.

“I was thinking that maybe being unavailable would be a good—”

“No!” three women said at once.

“Why would you do that?” Pam asked.

“He’s just too damn sure of himself,” Annie answered.

“Well, how about this,” Pam said. “Maybe you could try being sure of yourself?”

Annie thought about that for a second. “See, that’s the hard part.”

* * *

Usually Annie was very confident. She knew she was intelligent; she was a small-business owner and it was going well. She was independent and doubted that would ever change, even once she partnered up. And as for her modest upbringing, she had not yet met the person she’d trade places with. Life on the farm was rich in many ways. She might’ve had a moment of shallow jealousy over the skinny, fancy, city girl who could attract not only Nathaniel’s attention, but acquire a big engagement rock, as well, but all that had passed pretty quickly.

There was one area in her life where her confidence was a little shaky, however. She’d barely recovered from Ed. She’d put a lot of faith and trust in a man who’d clearly been using her. If this new guy, the big-shot vet, was really interested in her, he’d have some proving to do. She wasn’t going to be played for a fool. And she certainly wasn’t going to be the only available two-legged female he’d run across lately.

Later that day after work, she fed Ahab, dug around in her refrigerator and fluffed up a nice green salad, fixed a plate of frosted brownies and headed for Nate’s place.

When she pulled up to his house, a woman was just leaving the clinic, locking the door behind her. She was a tiny thing with salt-and-pepper hair cut supershort, and when she might have headed for the only car parked outside the clinic, she stopped and waited for Annie with a smile on her lips.

Annie approached her. “You must be Virginia,” she said.

“And you would be Annie McKenzie,” the older woman said. “Nice to meet you. I met your parents some years ago, but I think all you kids were either at school or had maybe already left home. Nate’s not home yet, but you have a key, right?”

“I do,” she said. “Thanks for helping with those puppies. These are for you,” she added on a whim, passing Virginia the plate of brownies.

“You shouldn’t have, but I’m glad you did. Annie, tell Nathaniel to give you both the clinic and my home phone numbers and to leave your phone number for me. If we run into a situation when he’s stuck out at a farm or ranch, we can work together to cover for him. I live in Clear River and he tells me you’re in Fortuna. It’s about the same distance for both of us to get here.”

“Sure. And I’ll tell him to call me first. I don’t have a husband to irritate by running off somewhere to take care of puppies.”

Virginia tilted her head, regarding her. “He doesn’t talk about women, you know,” she said.

“Your husband?” Annie answered, confused.

Virginia laughed. “Nathaniel. Can’t get a word out of him about his love life. And I’ve known him since he was this high,” she said, her hand measuring about midthigh.

“Maybe it’s not much of a—”

“But he’s talked about you for a week now. Annie this, and Annie that.”

Annie’s eyes grew round and maybe a little panicked. “This and that what?” she asked.

“I think he finds you delightful. Maybe amazing. You knew exactly what to do with the puppies because, raised by Hank and Rose, you were trained to know. And you’re tall. For years he’s been asking me if I’ve always been this short. I think he likes tall women. When you were little, he said, you had a big batch of curly, carrot-orange hair, but you obviously outgrew it. You shot a mountain lion, butchered a cow, raised a blue-ribbon bull. Oh, and you’re beautiful. But a little crabby, which he finds humorous.” Virginia shook her head. “Nathaniel likes to try to find his way around a difficult woman,” she said with a grin. “Being the youngest of four with three bossy older sisters, he can’t help it, so don’t let down your guard.”

Annie laughed. No problem there—her guard was up.

“It’s nice that you two have renewed your friendship,” Virginia added.

“But, Virginia, we were never friends,” Annie said. “We barely recall each other from childhood. He knew my older brothers, but not that well. We all went to different schools and might’ve run into each other at fairs, 4-H stuff, that sort of thing. Really—a long time ago. A couple of decades ago.”

But the woman only flashed her friendly grin. “Isn’t it great when you renew an acquaintance with someone you have that kind of history with?”

That kind of history? Annie wondered. That wasn’t much history. “But we don’t know each other as adults. Not at all.”

Virginia laughed. “Bet that’ll be the fun part. Now, you call me if you need me,” she said, moving toward her car. “And thanks for the brownies! My husband will be as thrilled as I am!”

“Sure,” Annie said. “Of course.”

Virginia paused at her car door. “Annie, if you need anything other than puppy care, don’t hesitate to call on me.”

“Thanks,” she said.

* * *

It wasn’t long after Annie had spoken to Virginia and let herself into Nate’s house that he came home. She heard his truck enter the garage, and when he walked in the door to the kitchen, his face lit up. “Hey,” he said. “I thought I’d beat you here.”

“Just got here,” she said. “And something smells good.”

“I just hope it also tastes good. I admit, Virginia gave me a hand.”

“No shame in that, Nate.” Then she smiled at him. Standing in the kitchen like that, waiting as he walked in the door after work, felt very nice. And then she told herself not to fantasize. Just one day at a time.

They fed the puppies and while a roast simmered in the Crock-Pot, complete with potatoes, carrots, onions and whole mushrooms, they let the puppies loose in the family room. They sat on the floor with them, a roll of paper towels handy, and laughed themselves stupid trying to keep track of the little animals, which escaped under the sofa, down the hall, behind furniture. They kept grabbing the puppies, counting, losing count, temporarily misplacing one. Nate estimated they were just over four weeks old because they were starting to bark, and every time one did, he or she fell over. It was better than television for entertainment.

After the puppies were put away again, dinner eaten, dishes cleaned up, Annie made noises about leaving, and Nate talked her into sitting down in the family room. “It’s early,” he said. “Let’s just turn on the TV for a while.”

She plopped onto the couch. “Oh, God,” she said weakly. “Don’t let me get comfortable. I really have to go home. You have no idea how early I start my day.”

“Oh, really?” he asked. “Do you have eight whiny, hungry puppies in your laundry room? I start pretty early myself. Besides, I want you comfortable. This is such a great make-out couch.”

“How do you know that?” she asked.

He shrugged like it was a stupid question. “I’ve made out on it.”

“You said you’d be a gentleman!”

“Annie, you just have to try me out—I’m going to be very gentlemanly about it. Come on, don’t make me beg.”

She grinned at him. “Beg,” she said. “I think that’s what it’s going to take.”

He got an evil look in his eye and said, “Come here.” He snaked his fingers under her belt and tugged, pulling her down into the soft sofa cushions. “Let’s put a little flush on your cheeks.”

* * *

The next night Annie took eight lengths of ribbon in eight different colors to Nate’s house. They tied the ribbons around the puppies’ necks, so they could be identifiable. They weighed them, made a chart, had dinner—and Nathaniel was more than happy to put a flush on her cheeks again.

Night after night, she fed Ahab right after work so she’d be free to—ahem—help with the puppies. And talk and play and kiss. The kissing quickly became her favorite part. Greedy for that, she trusted Pam to hold the shop open two nights a week and a half day on Monday. In exchange for that, Annie insisted Pam take a little comp time to get her own Christmas baking and shopping done; she came in late a few days to compensate.

There was more contributing to that flush of happiness on Annie’s cheeks than just the kissing. Minor though it might seem, getting to know him when he had his shirt pulled out of his jeans and his boots off seemed so much more than casual. Of course her boots were off, also, and while they necked, their feet intertwined and they wiggled their toes. They wiggled against each other, too. It was delicious.

When they were feeding or cleaning up after puppies, preparing a meal together, they were also getting to know each other. Annie had never really thought about it before, but that was what courtship was all about—figuring out if you had enough in common after the spark of desire to sustain a real relationship.

Nathaniel had wanted to work with Thoroughbreds since he was a kid. He owned a couple of retired racehorses, good for riding. “One good stud can set you up for a great side business,” he said. The initial investment, however, could be major. “In the next year or two, I’m going to invest. See what I can do.”

“Why not show horses?” she asked.

“That’s good, too, but I like the races.”

“I love horses,” she said. “You knew that. But did you know this? I’ve competed in dressage events all over the state. When I was younger, of course. Eventually it became too expensive for me. The best training was never in my neighborhood and the biggest competitions, including for the Olympics, were out of my reach. But if I could ever do anything, I would teach beginner dressage. Maybe even intermediate.”

She told him she had thought about inviting him out to the farm to meet her parents and horses, but realized he already knew them. He knew them before he knew her, in fact. So she invited him to see her little Fortuna house and she made him dinner there. “I don’t have a great make-out couch, however,” she warned him.

“Doesn’t matter anymore,” he said. “I needed that couch to get you going, but now that you’re all warmed up, we can do it anywhere. The floor, the chair, against the wall, the car...”

“I was so right about you. You’re just arrogant.”

He was also sentimental. Nathaniel was charmed by her two-bedroom house with a detached garage. The decorating was not prissy like a little dollhouse, but dominated by strong colors and leather furniture. The best part was, she had it completely decorated for Christmas, a garland over the hearth, lights up on the outside eaves. She had drizzled glitter on her huge poinsettia, had a Christmas cactus as big as a hydrangea bush, lots of what his mother had always called gewgaws. Ribbons, candles, potpourris, a Santa collection and, of course, a tree. A real tree, decorated to match the house—in burgundy, green, cream and gold. “And you’re not even spending Christmas at home,” he said.

“But I live here,” she reminded him.

“It just doesn’t make sense for me to put up decorations,” he said. “Mother left a ton of them in the garage cabinets, but I’m leaving before Christmas. And I didn’t think anyone would be around to see them.”

“I do it for myself,” she said. “I’m having holidays, too. I’ll spend nights here since it gets so crowded at the farm. In years past, I’ve been known to loan the house to one of the brothers and sisters-in-law and kids and just take the couch. Brad brings an RV, which the teenage boys pretty much commandeer. During summer visits, the kids stake out the barn and front porch.”

“Sounds like fun. I think I would have liked that, growing up,” he said. “When they all get here, will you let me meet them? Or re-meet them? I haven’t seen the boys since junior high.”

“Sure, but you have to be prepared.”

“For what?”

“They’re going to treat you like you’re my boyfriend.”

He smiled and pulled her against him. “What makes you think I’d have a problem with that?”

“I don’t think we’re in that place,” she informed him. “I think we just eat, talk, take care of puppies and kiss.”

“Annie,” he said as if disappointed. “What do you think a boyfriend is?”

“Um, I never really...”

“Tomorrow is Sunday, your day at the farm with your folks,” he said. “Get done with whatever it is you do by early afternoon. Come for a ride with me. Let me show you my spread—it’s so peaceful in the snow. Bring a change of clothes so you can freshen up before we have dinner.”

“I can do that,” she said. “I’d like that.”

* * *

Annie had seen herself as plain and sturdy, until she’d been under the lips and hands of Nathaniel Jensen, because he was so much more than she’d ever reckoned with. Handsome, smart, funny, compassionate, independent, strong, sexy—the list was endless. And he made her feel like so much more than a solid, dependable farm girl. When he kissed her, dared to touch her a bit more intimately than she invited, pulled his hands back when she said not yet, she felt sexy and pretty and adored. This was a man she looked forward to exploring, and she was taking him in slowly, with such pleasure.

So she told Rose she had a date to go riding with the vet and was, of course, excitedly excused from Sunday baking and dinner at the farm. “Please don’t get all worked up,” Annie told her mother. “This isn’t anything special. We’ve become friends on account of those puppies.”

“Right,” Rose said. “Still, could you wear a little color to bring out your hair and eyes?”

“I said, take it easy,” Annie stressed. “And don’t mention it to anyone. I don’t want to be the talk of the county the way that skinny Hollywood woman was.”

But Annie wasn’t taking it lightly—she was almost sizzling with pleasure. And she tried dressing up a little more. For riding, she wore her best jeans, newest boots and oldest denim jacket over a red turtleneck sweater. She added a black scarf. She brought along attractive slacks and high-heeled boots with a silk blouse and her best suede blazer to wear for dinner afterward. They talked about horses while they rode two of Nate’s favorite mounts, a couple of valuable, albeit retired, Thoroughbreds, disciplined and with just the right amount of spirit. The conversation about breeding, training, racing and showing horses was so stimulating she could almost forget for a while that she was trying not to fall in love with him.

“I’m not around horse people enough anymore,” she said. “When I was riding in competition as a girl, that was enough to keep me occupied twenty-four hours a day. No wonder I didn’t have fun in college—I wasn’t riding.”

“You’re good on a horse,” he said. “You should ride every day. So should I—it’s the best part of what I do.”

They rode into the foothills behind Nate’s stables along a trail that, although covered by a layer of snow, had been well used. The trees rose high above them and the sun was lowering in the afternoon sky. They talked about growing up as the youngest in their families, and the only one of their gender. While Annie’s brothers treated her like a football, Nathaniel’s older sisters played with him as if he were a baby doll they could dress up at will. “It’s amazing I’m not weirder than I am,” he said. “The next oldest is Patricia, who’s thirty-seven. Then Susan, and the oldest is Christina—one every two years. My parents had decided to quit while they were ahead and then, bingo.” He grinned. “Me. I upset the balance in a big way.”

“I think a similar thing happened at the farm,” she said. “The boys are thirty-three, thirty-four and thirty-seven. Then I came along and upset the bedroom situation. My parents decided I had to have my own, which left one for the boys. And then I raised a bull—did I mention he won a blue ribbon?”

“Several times, I believe.”

“We actually needed him. We had a couple of old bulls who just couldn’t step up to the plate anymore, y’know? But Erasmus was Ready Freddy. I’m real proud of that old bull.” She smiled. “My brothers had their shot at raising animals and they did all right, but Erasmus was the blue-ribbon baby. I blew my brothers out of the 4-H water with that guy.” She sighed wistfully. “I think having a daughter was harder on my dad and brothers than being the only girl was on me. And being the only girl wasn’t easy. They were ruthless.”

“Yet protective?” he asked.

“It’s an uncomfortable place sometimes, to be tossed around like a beanbag and hovered over like a china doll.”

“Did they make it hard on your boyfriends?” he asked.

“There weren’t very many boyfriends,” she said.

“I don’t believe you,” he replied with a grin. “You’re lying to make me feel better.”

So she told him about Ed. She hadn’t planned to, but this was a perfect segue to explaining that she might have an issue or two with trust. Not only had the man in the only really serious relationship of her adult life cheated on her, horribly, but she had never had a clue. That bothered her. After it was over, it was so obvious, but while it was going on, she was oblivious. Not good.

They were headed back toward the stables when she told him. She expected him to be sympathetic and sweet. Instead, he was fascinated. “Are you serious? He had about three women going at once? Scattered around? Telling each one he was in love with only her? Really?”

“Really,” she said, annoyed.

“How in the world did he manage that?” Nate asked.

“Well, a lot of phone calls while he was working. He talked to each one of us every day, sometimes several times a day. But with very few exceptions, we were assigned certain nights. We thought those were the days he didn’t have to leave town. I should have known where I stood in the line. I was getting Mondays and Tuesdays. The woman he decided was the real one in his life was getting the weekends—Saturdays and Sundays. She dumped him, of course, when she discovered Ms. Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. Three days a week must be the trump, huh?”

“Holy cow,” Nate said. “He didn’t even need a house or apartment! He had all his nights covered!”

“You know, I’m not impressed by his ability to pull it off.”

“Of course you’re not,” Nate said. “But if you just think about it, he had quite a scam going. Did he take you lots of places? Buy you nice things?”

“He couldn’t do either,” she explained. “First of all, he couldn’t risk being seen out and about with a woman, since one of the other women or their friends might run into him. So he said he was so tired, and after a week of being on the road and eating in restaurants, he enjoyed staying home.”

“Where you could cook for him,” Nate stated.

She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes and nodded. “He did buy me a hot-water heater when mine went out,” she admitted. “He might’ve needed that hot shower,” she muttered.

“The man’s a genius,” Nate said. Then upon studying her face, he said, “Oh, he’s a bastard, but you have to give him some credit for all the planning and subterfuge that—”

“I give him no credit,” she said harshly.

He grabbed her hand then, pulled her closer and said, “Of course not. No credit. He should be killed. But I’m glad he didn’t choose you. What if he’d chosen you? Can you imagine? We’d never meet and fall in love!”

She was so stunned that she pulled back on the reins and stopped her horse. “Are we in love?” she asked.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m just getting started here—there’s lots of potential. And he doesn’t deserve you. I, however, deserve you. And will take you anywhere you want. And I’m going to hold your hand the whole time. I’ll feed you cookies and kiss your neck in public.”

“People will think I’m your girlfriend.”

“That’s what I want people to think. I’m going to start right away. We’re going to go out. We’ll drive into town to look at Christmas decorations, go to Virgin River to check out the tree and have some of Preacher’s dinner, and then I’m going to take you to a nice restaurant on the weekend. And anything else you feel like doing.”

“Why?” she asked.

“I want everyone to know you’re with me. I want everyone to know you’re not Sundays and Mondays—you’re every day.”

Again she pulled back on the reins and stopped her horse. “What’s sexier than a string bikini, Nathaniel?”

“Are you kidding me?” He reined in beside her. His voice grew quiet and serious. He rubbed a knuckle down her cheek, over her jaw, gazing into her dark eyes. “Denim turns me on. Long legs in jeans and boots astride a big horse, making him dance to subtle commands. A rough work shirt under a down vest, feeding a newborn foal with a bottle because the mare isn’t responding.” He threaded his fingers into her hair and said, “Silk, instead of cotton candy. A fire on a cold, snowy night. A woman in my arms, soft and content, happy with the same things that make me happy. Help making homemade pizza—that turns me on. A woman who knows how to deliver a calf when there’s trouble—that blows my horn. A woman who can muck out a stall and then fall into the fresh hay and let me fall right on top of her. I’d like to try that real soon.”





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