Showing posts with label Fourth Scene. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fourth Scene. Show all posts

Thursday, August 15, 2019

Thursday's Fourth Scene Melodic Dreams Janet Lane Walters #MFRWAuthor #BWLPublishing #Romance #Occupational Therapy # Music


The moment he heard the car taking Maria and the boy away, Jay dialed the detective agency he’d used to trace Delores. Four years ago, he’d wanted her location so she could be served with divorce papers, nothing more. But now, questions abounded.
A woman answered. “Black and Black Investigations, how can we help you?”
“Amos Black, please.”
“I’ll see if he’s free. Who should I say is calling?”
“Jay Lockley. I need his services again.”
“One moment.” A short time later, the rasping voice he remembered reverberated in his ear. “Mr. Lockley, what can I do for you?”
Jay explained the arrival of Maria and the boy. “She brought documents that look legit but I wonder if they’re forgeries.”
“A child you say. One who appears to be the right age?”
“Yes.”
“Let me pull your file on screen.”
Jay tapped his fingers on the table. Could the answer be easily found? Had the detective failed to give him everything he’d discovered?
“Mr. Lockley, I’ve reviewed your former request. All you wanted was for me to locate your estranged wife. I did and sent confirmation of her death.”
“I had no idea there was the possibility of a child,” Jay said. “These are the papers I was given.” He listed them. “I’ll fax copies. And I’d like to know why the child was missed.”
“Who gave them to you?”
“Maria Russo claims to be Delores’ sister and guardian of the child she claims is my son. I need to know the truth. If he’s mine I’ll claim him in court if necessary.”
“You could ask for a DNA test?”
“I could but I want to know more about the Russo family.” He gripped the receiver. He was ninety-nine percent sure the boy was his. Dealing with a woman who looked like Delores raised suspicions. He wanted to know if Maria was as greedy and as self-serving as his dead wife had been.
Emotions triggered by memories of the days of feeling like a naĂŻve fool swamped him. Added to those feelings the attraction toward Maria churned his thoughts as though they were whirled in a blender.
“Just what do you want me to do?” Amos asked.
Since he knew the man would do no more or less that he asked Jay began. “Check the validity of the papers I’ll fax. Investigate Maria and Carlo Russo.”
“Looks like I’m taking a road trip,” Amos said. “This will cost.”
“How much?”
For a moment there was silence. “Say five grand. I’ll need to fly and rent a car.”
“I’ll wire the money. I need the truth so I can act.” Excitement bubbled in his thoughts. “This time I expect a detailed report of everything you learn. Call me when you arrive.”
“Will do.”
Jay disconnected and carried the folder and papers to the studio where he faxed the documents. He booted the computer and wired the money. As he slipped the papers into the folder he found several pages of music. He stared. He’d been working on these melodies just before Delores left.
Why had she taken them? Then he saw his name had been crossed out and hers written above. Had she planned to pass them off as hers?
As he studied the notes, he laughed. The melodies, one bright and the other dark, had fluidity and power. He propped the sheets on the piano rack. One by one he played them. During a second pass, he jotted notes where revision was needed. He gripped the uncompleted movie score. Yes. These melodies would fit the score. He worked to the point where the harmony needed to be added. In his head, he heard an orchestra.
When exhaustion forced him to halt, he groaned. He could hear the ending and wanted to push ahead. His fingers cramped. His hands curled. Waves of pain tore his concentration to shreds. He rubbed one hand over the other. What if they remained frozen into claws?
Slowly, the throbbing eased. He sank on a chair and closed his eyes. Maria. Her face appeared and he saw warmth in her dark honey eyes. He must thank her for returning the music.
Warmth flowed over his skin. She was so like and unlike the haunted memories of Delores. In Maria’s eyes, he’d seen none of the calculation that had filled his dead wife’s. What he’d seen from Maria had been love for the child and anger toward him.
His hands spasmed. Why this attraction for a woman he had no reason to trust?
His thoughts flitted to the boy. Those green eyes, exactly the shade as his had raised hopes he couldn’t accept. Until he knew the child wasn’t part of a scheme for sticky fingers to plunder his purse he must remain detached.
One thing worried him. How could a woman who looked like Delores’ twin turn discord into harmony?
His thoughts drifted to the days of his first success. A Broadway musical with songs sweeping through the city and the country. He’d been feted and followed by cameras and fans. One night the producer had taken him to s small club where Delores had sung. The words and melody of one of his ballads had flowed on her silky voice. Her smoldering glances and her lush body had enchanted him.
He’d been naĂŻve. A rich boy with a famous father and a mother more interested in charities than children. He’d been ripe for seduction and hungry for love. He’d fallen fast and hard, taken her to his apartment for a night filled with sex. She’d stayed. He’d written songs for her with melodies showcasing her silky voice. Their affair had erupted like earth birthing a new volcano. A month after that first meeting, they had married.
She hadn’t given up her obsession with stardom. Not long after the wedding she had asked him to get together with the lyricist and write a musical for her. He’d tried but his muse had vanished.
Pregnancy should have put her desire on hold. For days she had screamed and blamed him for carelessness. Two months later she’d left to go home and have an abortion. She’d taken every cent from their joint accounts.
What a fool he’d been.
Jay’s hands clenched. Those days were gone. He’d found music again. He couldn’t allow Maria or anyone to drive him into that dark place where cacophony ruled.
The clock chimed eight times. He left the studio and headed to the kitchen to heat one of the meals Mrs. Greene left for him. Before he’d eaten two bites of the chicken pot pie, the doorbell rang.
“What now?” he muttered.
“Jay, where are you?”
He groaned and knew she wouldn’t leave. Even if he’d been in the studio, Manon would invade. “Kitchen.”
Manon strode into the room with Rafe two steps behind. “Are you back to earth?” she asked.
He shrugged. “For long enough to eat.” He wasn’t about to tell her about his stroll through memories. “I’m alive. I’m eating. You can go home.”
Rafe opened the refrigerator and took out a beer. He gestured to Jay. Jay shook his head. As soon as they left, he intended to return to the studio.
Rafe raised the beer. “She’s going to grill you about out dinner companions. A beautiful woman and a delightful boy.”
Jay’s suspicions escalated. How had Maria learned about his sister’s Monday visits to Louie’s? How long had Maria been in town?
Manon filled a glass with water. “How can you deny Jamie’s your son? What are you going to do about him?”
Jay dropped his fork on the table. “What did she tell you? How did she choose the same restaurant?” Though he asked, he knew the answer. Disappointment made him groan. Maria and the boy had been in Fern Lake long enough to learn all she could about him and his family. She was no different from Delores.
Manon’s green eyes frosted. “She lives in the apartment complex. Louie’s is a short walk for a small boy.” She glared. “He’s as greedy for black olives as you are. No way can you deny he’s your son.”
Jay lifted his fork. “I can’t be sure. You only met Delores once. She knew every trick and I bought them all. Maria is her sister. I need to know if this is a scam.”
Rafe nodded. “Sensible. I liked her though and she will be working at the hospital. I’m sure she was vetted.”
“I need proof of her reason for arriving in Fern Lake.”
Rafe raised his beer. “How do you plan to learn?”
“I hired a detective, the same one who brought the news of Delores’ death. Maria said the boy was delivered at the hospital.”
“Possible,” Manon said. “She does need help.”
“I offered to pay for his pre-school.”
Manon set her glass on the table. “I’m glad. Don’t lose your chance to know Jamie by being stubborn.”
Jay shrugged. “I’ll wait until I’m sure.” Maria’s smile flashed in his thoughts. His hands fisted. No way would she trick him the way her sister had.

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Thursday, July 11, 2019

Thursday's Fourth Scene from Sanctuary's Ending #MFRWAuthor #BWL Publishing #Fantasy


As David rushed down the dirt street toward the meeting house he heard the first peal of the summoning bell. His brown poncho flowed behind him like the sails of a ship he’d seen in one of the old books. The wooden chain with the symbols of the goddesses and his stature banged against his chest.
His morning had been filled with frustration as he’d herded the sheep and goats into the pen. The second peal rang. He dashed through the doors of the brown stone building as the third note sounded. The doors banged shut behind him. Relief made his knees weak.
With difficulty he calmed his breathing and slid onto the rear bench on the men’s side of the room. As the Singers began the farewell to Sola and the welcome to Luna he kept his head bent.
The moment the song ended Chief Elder Jeremiah rose and spoke. “Today begins a new year. Give thanks to Erda, one of the goddesses of Solunda.”
David knew his last moment arrival had been noticed by the assembled elders. At the edge of his vision he saw Simon’s snide smile. Anger bubbled and David fought to keep the simmer contained. His lateness meant some form of punishment, a public scolding or a night in the stocks. Better punishment than banishment and stoning. Only an injury or illness allowed anyone to miss attending any of the four celebrations.
He shifted restlessly on the backless stone bench. The meeting house was the only building in the village with a stone floor. Windows of colored glass, three on each side featured the goddesses in their glory. Sola wore a scarlet gown, Luna had a pale yellow and Erda’s gown was green. Rainbows of color from the setting sun infused the room.
The Singers rose. The women’s voices praised Luna. The men sang of Sola. David heard Gabriel’s rich tenor soar in praise of Erda. “Be fruitful. Bring life to all who inhabit your land.” The voices muted and stilled.
“Rise,” Elder Jeremiah shouted. “For the first time in this new year Sola and Luna bring equal light to Erda. Repeat the story our ancestors told when they left the outside world and came to Sanctuary.”
“Erda wept. The soil was poisoned. Water was polluted. People died.”
David joined his voice to those of the people around him. He repeated the words he’d recited since he was a child.
“Erda cried to her sisters but Sola and Luna could not help.
A few people heard her cries and spoke to all. Few listened.
The wise ones left the lowlands and came here to await a call to return.”
David sucked in a breath. Had Paul really heard the summons? Dread rose and echoed through him.
“Storms appeared. Erda shook. Swirling winds blew. Sleet, hail and ice fell battering the land. Great waves of water rolled over the land.
Fire storms flared in forests and towns.
So we here wait for a call to return.”
Singers’ voices rose in a dirge to the lost days. Notes reverberated from the stone walls of the meeting house.
David studied the faces of the people who had once been his friends. His twin sat with the other healers. Light from the Sola window burnished her hair to a rich red.
How different their lives had been. She belonged to Sanctuary’s elite. Feelings of uselessness filled his spirit. He was of the lowest caste. But he could heal. He thought of the times he had cured sheep, cattle, goats and horses. He had healed dogs after fights with wild animals. His hands clenched. He fought the urge to run from the meeting house where he truly didn’t belong.
The song moved from sadness to notes of the song for the awakening of Erda. He searched for Gabriel who had become a Singer though none of his family had ever shown the talent.
An eerie feeling slithered along David’s skin. Why did he sense the emotions of other and sometimes their thoughts? He had no training other than what he’d discovered on his own. Knives of hatred filled the air. He stared at Simon who acted as doorkeeper. Their gazes met for an instant. David knew who sent the dark emotions.
Holding a groan inside David broke eye-contact. His attention returned to the women’s side. Ruth looked as though she wanted to be ill. As a Sensitive he felt sure she sensed Simon’s emotions. Petite with hair so dark it appeared black, she looked younger than her age. Did she agree with Paul’s plan or had the power of his emotions swayed her? What caused that pinched expression? Were the multitude of emotions in the meeting house responsible? He scanned the other Sensitives. All seemed tense.
Think sheep. The moment he imagined being with the flocks his thoughts cleared.
Elder Jeremiah sat at the end of the row of elders. Did the arrogant man know what his younger son planned? Jeremiah followed the rules of Sanctuary to the letter. Only those who stood against his wishes were ever named sinners.
As the Singers continued the welcome to Luna and the new year, David’s thoughts focused on his past. When he and Deborah turned ten they’d left their mother’s cottage. They’d been scared and curious. For five years they’d learned the Reading, writing and arithmatics. At fifteen they’d been tested to see if they would enter one of the specialties. Of the five children of his birth year only he hadn’t been chosen to study for one of the five Elder, Teacher, Healer, Sensitive or Singer.
Since he was a male the Elders said he couldn’t become a Healer or a Sensitive. His singing voice hadn’t been judged strong enough to train. He had wanted to be Teacher. Several times among the younger students he’d predicted the ones who were later chosen to train for one of the talents.
A touch of anger rose and he thought of Simon’s smug smile during the testing. He had lied. So for five years David had worked as a herdsman.
David’s head jerked. He’d been so deep in memories he’d nearly dozed. If anyone noticed he would have faced a second punishment.
The final notes of the song faded. Chief Elder Jeremiah rose. “Will Ruth, Deborah, Gabriel and Paul present themselves? They are to be invested as servants of the goddesses.”
David watched his friends leave their places. The young women joined the young men on the platform. Elder Jeremiah gave them the symbols of their specialties. Hands for Deborah, a heart for Ruth, a harp for Gabriel and the three circles, red, yellow and green for Paul.
Resentment roiled in David’s gut. Why hadn’t he staged an accident? A broken leg would have kept him from witnessing the end of his dreams. His hands clenched.
Paul stepped forward. His braced shoulders and his steady gaze evoked confidence. David’s hands clenched. Did Paul realize the chaos his words could bring?’
“On this day when we face the start of a new year I hear Erda crying. Carry your knowledge, talents and the glory of the Three to all of Erda’s people.”
David straightened. Gasps rippled through the audience becoming a roar like winds howling from the mountain peaks. Paul’s expression made David think of a zealot.
“The time has come to disperse. The time has come to spread the words of Sola, Luna and Erda. The time has come to step beyond the barrier of the Gap.”
Jeremiah leaped to his feet. He raised a fist and stalked toward his son. “We were called from the world to keep the talents and the glory of the Three pure. There has been no message. Who but the Chief Priest would hear the words of the goddesses?”
Paul faced his father. “The time for a change has come. The day has arrived and we must leave Sanctuary and go into the world. I have heard the goddesses and I will follow their directions. Have you listened? Have you ignored the signs? The increased births, the failing of the fields. These are warnings from Erda, Sola and Luna. Are you so mired in your comfort and power you refuse to hear?”
David stared at his other friends. Ruth buried her face in her hands. The storm of emotions roaring through the room even reached him. How must she feel?
“Who will come with me?” Paul shouted. “Does anyone hear the cries?” Moonlight shone through the clear window above the platform and formed a halo around him.
Ruth, Deborah and Gabriel stepped to Paul’s side. David rose. He couldn’t allow his friends to stand alone. If a stoning was declared he would accept the punishment. As he climbed the three steps to the stage he felt like a fish being drawn from the water.
Ruth turned toward him. Fear filled her dark eyes. He touched her shoulder. Peace. To his astonishment he saw hope banish darker emotions.
“Traitor,” Jeremiah shouted. “The goddess will punish your blasphemy.” He glared at his younger son. “Who drove you to take this step?”
“We were called. I heard.”
The older man whirled and jabbed a finger into David’s chest. Icy blue eyes strafed David’s face. “Son of sin, the seeds of your destruction were sown by your father. You were made a herder of animals to break the ties you bound around my son’s soul.”
Anger boiled to the surface. David fought for control. Fury blocked his vocal cords. A scream formed and pulsed to be free.
Paul raised his fist. “The call came to me. David knew nothing until three days ago. For five years I’ve studied the histories and the sayings of the goddesses. I’ve meditated. Erda, Sola and Luna spoke to me. I am now an Elder. Judgment must come from my peers.”
Jeremiah turned to the seated members of the community. “My people, go and enjoy the waiting dinner. The Elders will decide the punishment.”
David drew Ruth, Gabriel and Deborah toward the rear of the platform. The Singers brushed past them. Men, women and children rushed to the open doors.
Simon lounged against the rear wall. With crossed arms and a satisfied smirk he looked as though the verdict would be his to give.
The Elders congregated on the other side of the stage. Paul was led to the Seat of Judgment.
Ruth’s pain-filled eyes and her tight mouth caught David’s attention. He closed his eyes and sent thoughts of peace and calmness. Be at ease. When her eyes flew open her tension had abated. What had he done? This was no time to consider.
Elder Jeremiah approached Paul. “You are my son. How could you betray me?”
“How could you not listen and observe?”
“I name you a liar and blasphemer. The goddesses would never speak to one newly invested. You are no leader. You will lead the people of Sanctuary to their doom. Why should we return to suffer what our forefathers gathered here to escape?”
“They came to preserve the worship of the goddesses,” Paul said. “They should have left years ago.”
“You are a fool.”
Elder John strode toward the chair. “Jeremiah, consider the signs. The increase in population. The failure of the fields. Once before these signs rose. Your ancestor, also Chief Elder, handed down new rules forbidding certain women to wed. I suggest we send these young people to explore and find places where we can expand.”
David noted the expressions on the faces of the nine Elders morph from anger to agreement.
“How do we vote,” Elder John said. “Those in favor of sending a small group raise your hands.”
The only one not responding was Jeremiah.
“Send us,” Paul said. “We are prepared and have dreamed since childhood for this chance.”
Simon marched down the aisle. “Though I would rather stay I will go with them. They have no Teacher. My presence will keep Sanctuary safe.”
His smile raised David’s suspicion. Ruth’s body shook. David touched her hand. Be careful.
Jeremiah grasped his older son’s hand. “Your sacrifice will be rewarded when you return. You’ve always heeded my words.” He embraced Simon. “Go with these fools. Return to bring me the news of their failure.”


Thursday, June 27, 2019

Thursday's Fourth Scene from Searches Affinities Book3 #MFRWAuthor #BWL Publishing Inc #Fantasy #YA


Kylandra

Ky and Zand spent the morning fusing the broken glass panels for the growing house. The rest of the group busily fitted the pieces together. When all the panels were in place, the covered area would be three times as large as the one they had found in the Cedris garden.
     “Ky,” Jay called. “I’ve finished another one.”
     She crossed to where he sat and knelt beside the pane he had assembled. After calling fire to her fingers, she traced the cracks and watched the glass shards fuse. With a grin, she rose. “Once we finish the panels, all we’ll need to do is repair the beds and find plants to fill them.”
     Zand looked around. “Where will we find the plants?”
     Ky walked to his side. “Jay, Geni and Dyna already have cuttings in the stillroom. They’ll also search the fields and forest.”
     Bran waved her over. “Another one is ready. We have some seeds the doma bought from the Rovers, and they promised her more.”
     Ky ran her finger over the glass and watched a solid sheet form. She rolled her shoulders. “I need a rest.” And a change. Doing the same thing again and again was boring.
     Doma Jandia appeared in the doorway of the growing house. “The midday meal is ready. Go wash your faces and hands.”
     With a shout of joy, Ky dashed outside and splashed cold water from the trough on her face. After finishing two bowls of soup, toasted bread and cheese, she decided Zand could finish the dozen glass panels needing to be fused. She wanted to work in the large barn. She stayed in the kitchen to help with the dishes.
     After she emptied the dirty water, she sauntered to the large stone structure that abutted the rear wall of the keep. The walls seemed solid and so did the beams of the roof and loft. Something about them puzzled her. How had the builders made the wooden stalls and troughs look like stone?
     Along the walls, she noticed a number of places where bits of the mortar had crumbled. If she used fire to melt the white material when it hardened, the walls should be solid. Before that happened the debris from the loft had to be removed.
     She ran her hands along one of the stalls and formed a ball of fire to take a closer look. Wood and not wood. The smooth surface felt like porcelain or polished stone yet the grain of the wood was visible. What had the former occupants of the keep used to produce the smoothness and the longevity? She climbed the stone steps to the loft and began flinging down the matted leaves and other things. There was less debris than she had expected. She inched along the beams finding the same type of preservation. Why hadn’t they treated the loft floor and the roof?
     Ky laughed at her questions. They couldn’t be answered. The people who had produced such wonders were lost in the past.
     Once the last of the waste matter was on the ground, she climbed down and raked the material into a heap. To her surprise, the floor was stone with channels to aid in cleaning the stalls. She loaded a barrow and pushed it to the pile outside the gate. Then she returned for another load. She felt as tired as if she had used her sword in a battle. She sank to the ground and leaned against the wall. Would the keep ever be ready for winter?
     Don’t be so negative. Jay’s comment flowed over the twin bond. Dragen’s cutting saplings to use as flooring for the loft.
     A sharp pain jabbed her hand. She screamed. Flames spurted from her fingers. Ky jumped to her feet. What? Then she saw the barbed tail of a scorpon poised to strike again. The creature was larger than both her hands placed side by side. She seared the scorpon with fire. A mass of smaller creatures emerged from the cracks in the wall. Ky turned and ran.
     The poison from the barbed tail of the scorpon burned a trail up her arm. “Help! Scorpon,” she shouted. Her stomach clenched and threatened to erupt. Dizziness caused her to stagger. She struggled to keep on her feet. If she fell the rest of the vermin would attack.
     Dragen dashed into the barn. Zand followed. He sent lashes of flame into the milling mass of creatures. Ky fell to her knees. She tried to stand. Bran appeared.
     “Be still,” he ordered. “Running makes the poison move faster. Val and I will take you to the keep.”
     They lifted her. The jarring movement increased her nausea. By the time they reached the kitchen, she opened her eyes. The room spun. She swallowed to keep from spewing her lunch. The burning sensation had traveled past her elbow. Her fingers were numb. The pain was akin to what she had felt when she’d cleared the web from the tunnel during the escape from the henge, and a strand had wrapped around her wrist. Had Dom Senet found a way to weave scorpon poison into a web?
     She heard voices, but they were blurred. Her eyelids seemed too heavy to raise. Her thoughts swept away as though captured by the wind.
     Ky opened her eyes to find Doma Jandia and her siblings seated around her sleeping mat. “My arm.” Her fingers barely moved.
     “Will be weak for a day or two.” Doma Jandia gestured to Bran. “Raise her head.” He propped pillows behind her back. The doma held a cup to Ky’s mouth. “Drink.”
     The liquid was cool and so sweet she grimaced. “What is that?”
     “A stimulant.”
     “You were really sick,” Jay said. “I couldn’t find you on the twin bond.”
     Ky swallowed the rest of the drink. “You really couldn’t hear me?”
     Ash nodded. “You’ve been ill for three days. Even your thoughts were absent from the winds.”

Thursday, April 4, 2019

Thursday's Fourth Scene The Doctor's Dilemma #MFRWAuthor #BWLPublishing #Medical romance #Twins #Doctors


Neal crossed his arms on his chest. He appraised the blonde. Tall, sexy as hell, but what was her agenda?  Her long braid switched like a lioness’ tail did as the beast prepared to spring.
Who was she?
He’d expected to find the twins in Emma Sanchez’s care, but he rather preferred this woman whose brilliant blue eyes matched her tee shirt. Her khaki shorts revealed a nice pair of legs.
Her accusations thundered. Her eyes flashed sparks of anger. Whoever she was, he was intrigued. She clamped her lips together and glared at him.
A pair of ear-piercing screams shattered the silence. Neal jumped.
The twins!  Were they ill?
At least he could handle illness. “What’s wrong with them?”
“I guess I scared them.” She knelt on the afghan and spoke in low, soothing tones. “It’s all right. I won’t yell again.” The cries died to whimpers.
His gaze focused on the woman. She definitely wasn’t the person he’d expected to accompany the twins. During their phone conversations, he’d envisioned Lena Greene as a short, dumpy woman. Nothing about the blonde’s appearance marked her as a social worker, a class of women he was well acquainted with. Since the day he’d entered the system at the age of three, he’d had too many encounters with the breed.
Officious, rigid, uncaring, along with a dozen other sterling attributes.
She didn’t fit that picture. Her blue eyes and her air of harassed martyrdom made him want to rescue her.
He held up his hands. “I surrender. I’m guilty of every charge. If I’d known you’d be waiting at the airport, I would have ignored the four major emergencies that kept me chained to the clinic. Welcome to Prairie, Ms. Greene.”
“I’m not Lena Greene.”
“And you’re definitely not Emma Sanchez. So, who are you?”
“Nora Harte. Lena asked me to deliver the twins.”
Her voice reminded him of brandy -- full-bodied and intoxicating.
She lifted one of the twins. “This is Molly.” She thrust the infant into his arms and returned for the second. “And this is Todd.”
She edged past them. The babies’ squirms grew stronger and he prayed he wouldn’t drop them.
“There’s an envelope on the coffee table with official papers,” she said. “Enjoy the children. I have to go. I’m due in Santa Fe tomorrow.”
She can’t leave!
He had no experience in the daily care and handling of babies. He had to find a way to keep her until Emma arrived without admitting how inept he felt.
“You’re leaving now?  Are you sure you want to head out this late?”
“There’s plenty of daylight left. When it gets too dark, I’ll find a motel.”
“Do you realize what desolate territory you’ll be crossing?  Towns and motels are far apart.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
He handed her one of the twins. She smelled of lavender and memories. “Spend the night and leave in the morning.”
Nora hesitated. She clutched Molly and backed away. His green eyes said more than his words. “I --”
“Say you’ll stay. I wouldn’t want to worry about your car breaking down miles from civilization.” And he wasn’t ready to be alone with the babies.
The concern in his voice soothed the emotions he had kindled. Dr. McKay presented a complication she wasn’t sure she could handle. She swallowed. “I’ll stay, but just for tonight.”
“Great.”
His smile made her feel warm and uncertain. The awkward way he held Todd brought forth a desire to help him. She lifted Molly to her shoulder. “Hold him like this. You’ll find it’s more comfortable, Dr. McKay.”
“My name’s Neal.”
His intense concentration as he imitated her was endearing. She recalled how uneasy Lena had been about sending the twins to a bachelor, especially one who kept doctor’s hours. He’d assured the social worker that he’d found a caring woman to be the babies’ nanny.
“Where’s the woman you hired to watch the children?”
“Wasn’t she here when you arrived?”
“The door was unlocked and the house empty.” She sat on the arm of the couch.
Neal crossed the room. “I should have called, but I didn’t have a minute all day to think of anything except patients. When Emma and I talked yesterday, she said she would be here by noon.”
Nora’s gaze met his. Eyes as brilliant as summer grass captured her attention. She shook her head. She was out of her mind and her emotions were about to run amok. Something in his expression made her want to stay and help him adjust to this new situation.
She couldn’t stay beyond tomorrow morning. Her parents expected her. She would have to leave at dawn and travel past dark to meet the schedule.
“Thanks for offering to stay.”
The gratitude in his deep voice tempted her to forget her plans. She shook her head.
Neal McKay was a wanderer. Lena’s investigation had confirmed that. The lack of personal touches and the unpacked boxes were a clear sign he didn’t plan to settle here.
The attraction she felt astonished her, but she knew it would lead nowhere. She wanted a man with roots, not a tumbleweed. After her chaotic childhood, she intended to stay in one place for the rest of her life.
“I’m curious,” she said. “Why didn’t you furnish the nursery?”
He shrugged. “I went to the mall to buy beds, but I couldn’t decide which model was appropriate. I thought I’d ask Emma for help.
She shook her head. “You’ll need more diapers and formula.”
“I know. Ms. Greene neglected to tell me their size and the brand of formula. The nurse practitioner said some babies have problems when they change brands.”
“She’s right. We need to go shopping.”
“I think you’re right.”
“We should go before dinner. I’d cook, but your cupboards are bare.”
He paced across the room. “We’ll eat at the cafe. Food’s good, hot and there are no dirty dishes.”
She put Molly on the afghan. “Watch them while I get bottles. We’ll go in my car. The infant seats are still in place.”
“Why drive?  The store’s five blocks from here.”
“It’s too hot to walk. Besides, we’ll need the car for the groceries.”
“How much food can two babies eat?  A couple cans of formula won’t take much room.”
She smiled. “It’s cheaper by the case. And you’ll need disposable diapers and food for the house. I’d like breakfast before I leave.” She looked up. “Are you sure you’re a family practitioner?  You don’t know much about babies.”
“Sick babies are my thing.” He grinned. “The certificate’s in one of the boxes here or upstairs. I’ll dig it out.”
“I was joking.”
“Actually, you’re right. I can order antibiotics, tests and treatments for sick children, but I’ve never lived with infants. Seeing them as patients is different from being responsible for them.”
“You’ve got that right.”
“I don’t deal much with the small set at the clinic unless there’s an emergency. A pediatrician comes in twice a month and there’s a pediatric nurse practitioner on staff.”
Nora dashed to the kitchen and returned with two bottles. She added them to the diaper bag. Since they would need the stroller at the store, she put Molly in one of the seats. She slung the diaper bag over her shoulder.
“Todd next.”
“I’ll carry him.”
At the car, Neal watched Nora fasten the babies in the infant seat. Watching her exhausted him. How would he cope alone?  If he didn’t locate Emma, that’s what he would face.
The middle-aged woman had seemed reliable, sensible and had been recommended by Hattie Gardner, the town’s matriarch, as the best person for the job. When they returned to the house, he had to call Emma.
Nora parked in front of the grocery store. She opened the stroller. Neal fumbled and finally unfastened Todd. As he held the baby, reality struck. For the next eighteen years, he was responsible for the well-being of these children. He hadn’t the slightest idea what to do. Foster homes, at least the ones he’d been placed in, weren’t good training grounds for parents.
He watched Nora. She handled the twins like a pro. If for some reason Emma wasn’t coming, what would it take to persuade Nora to stay.
She put the diaper bag in the tray beneath the stroller. “You push the twins and I’ll take the cart.”
“Sounds good.”
Inside the store, Nora stopped to read the signs. “This way,” she said.
As they started down the aisle, the number of baby items amazed him. Maybe they’d need his pickup instead of the car. Nora put a case of formula, two packages of diapers and some boxes in the cart.
“What about this.” He picked up some bottles of juice.
“They’re not ready for juice. They’ve just started cereal.”
“Dr. McKay, are these your babies?”
Two elderly women, Maude and Grace Adams, blocked the aisle. Nora continued ahead with the cart.
“They are,” he said.
“What beautiful children.”
Neal lost sight of Nora. “Thank you, ladies.”
“Are they much trouble?”
“Do they sleep all night?
“We’re twins, you know.”
Their comments pinged and ponged. Neal felt dizzy. “I’ve got to go.”
“We’ll see you at Hattie’s on Saturday.”
Neal turned the stroller. He spotted Nora at the check-out counter. The cart was crammed. “Why all the food?”
“I thought I’d cook dinner.”
“I said we’d eat at the cafe.”
“Should I put the steak back?”
He shook his head. “We’ll take everything.”


Thursday, March 21, 2019

Thursday's Fourth Scene from Code Blue #MFRWAuthor #BWLPublishing #Suspense #Medical


Trish pushed past Susan and trotted down the hall. Julie and the pair of practicals scurried after the thin nurse. Unable to move or think, Susan leaned against the counter.
     A piercing scream pulled the unit secretary from her chair at the desk. The scream thawed Susan's frozen thoughts. If someone didn't take charge, the unit would dissolve into chaos.
     "Kit, you can't go yet. Call Security and the house doctor. We need them stat. Then call the Nursing Office. I'll speak to any supervisor who answers."
     "What's wrong with Barbara?" Kit asked.
     "She's dead." Susan glanced up. Above nearly every door, a call light shone. A patient on crutches swung down the hall. Immediately behind him, a woman walked with crab-like movements. Susan left the desk to intercept the pair.
     "What happened?" the man asked.
     "Who screamed?" The woman stumbled and put her hand on the wall.
     Susan paused and considered how to make them return to their rooms without frightening them. She couldn't tell them about Barbara's death, but she had to say something. "One of the nurses had an accident."
     "Is there anything I can do?" the woman asked.
     "Go back to your room and let your roommate know everything is being taken care of. A nurse will be in soon."
     After the patients left, Susan strode to where her coworkers clustered around the storage room. Trish blocked the doorway. A thin smile appeared on her face. The practicals jostled each other and peered into the room. Julie huddled against the wall with her hand pressed against her mouth.
     "Close the door and start answering lights," Susan said. "It looks like Christmas at the desk."
     "What should we tell the patients?" Julie asked.
     "That one of the nurses had an accident," Susan said.
     "What if one of them wants to know who she is?" one of the practicals asked. "Shouldn't we tell them she's...well...you know?"
     "Use your common sense. Say that one of the nurses had an accident and is being seen by the house doctor."
     From the corner of her eye, Susan saw the stocky house doctor stride past the end of the hall. She hurried to catch up with him. "Dr. Mendoza, one of the nurses had an accident. She's in the storage room. You need to check her."
     His dark eyes flashed irritation. "Why do you not take her to the Emergency Room? I am here to care for the patients, not the nurses."
     "We can't move her until Security comes." Susan lowered her voice. "She's dead."
     "What?"
     Susan inhaled. Why was Dr. Mendoza the doctor in the house tonight? He always behaved as though unexpected incidents had been staged to annoy him. "She's--"
     "Susan, Ms. Vernon's on the line," Kit said.
     Trish grabbed Mendoza's arm. "Come on. I'll go with you."
     Glad she didn't have to face the scene in the storage room again, Susan hurried away. She sat on the edge of the desk and took the receiver from Kit. "Leila, it's Susan. There's a problem here."
     "What has Barbara done? I heard Kit was tracking her."
     "She's dead. I found her in the storage room and I don't think it was an accident."
     "I'll be right there," Leila said. "What kind of injuries?"
      "She...her head..." A picture of Barbara's battered head and face flashed in Susan's thoughts. Acid burned her throat. She dropped the receiver and bolted for the utility room. There, she leaned over the sink. Even after her stomach was empty, she continued to heave.
     Footsteps sounded on the tile floor. Susan looked up. Leila looked as though she had run the entire distance from the Nursing Office.
     "Are you all right?" Leila asked.
     Susan gulped deep breaths of air. "I don't know. She felt ghastly." She blotted her tearing eyes with a paper towel and rinsed her mouth.
     Leila took Susan's arm and they walked to the nurses' station. "Come and sit down."
     Susan shook her head. If she sat, she would fall apart. She had to remain calm and strong. Who would see to her patients if she gave into the hysteria that threatened to erupt? Once again, flashes of the gruesome still life in the storage room surfaced. She shivered and rubbed her upper arms. Activity would keep the memories at bay.
     "Are you sure she's dead?" Leila asked.
     The sharp toned question acted like a splash of cold water. "Yes." The word exploded from Susan's mouth. "I checked her. So did Mendoza. Talk to him. I have to answer lights."
     "Are you sure you're up to facing patients?"
     "If I don't, who will?"
     Kit turned in her chair at the desk. "I sure wish I could have seen her instead of being stuck at the desk. Wonder who got her. Was she gross?"
     "I don't want to talk about her," Susan said.
     "You're going to have to." Kit pursed her lips. "Security called the police. I think you're in big trouble. The guard was upset because you and Mendoza messed with the body. He's afraid you tampered with the evidence."
     "I had to see if I could help her."
     "You did the right thing." Leila reached for the phone. "I'd better call Murry Johnson before someone else does. This could be a real problem for the hospital."
     "I bet they'll be major upset," Kit said. "You know, the guard took my key for the storage room and he wants the one from the narcotic ring. He's checking the rooms for an intruder. A bit late, I'd say. The killer's probably long gone."
     Or here among us. Susan's hand flew to her mouth. Had she said the words aloud?
     "I wonder what we were doing when she died?" Kit asked. "She wasn't exactly the most popular person on the unit."
     Susan walked away. Kit sounded like Barbara. Was the unit secretary planning to take the practical's place as gossip queen?
     "Aren't you glad this didn't happen during visiting hours? Just think of the mess that would have been." Kit's comments followed Susan from the station.
     She made a face and ducked into the first room of her district. Why was Kit making Barbara's death sound like an adventure? Finding the body had been a nightmare. Susan forced her lips into a smile and approached the first bed. "You rang?"
     "Fifteen minutes ago. When I heard that scream." The gray-haired man shifted his leg. The canvas-supporting sling shifted. Weights attached to pins embedded in his tibia clanged against the frame of the bed. "Is everything all right? I rang six times."
     "One of the nurses had an accident."
     "Where's your buddy?" the second patient asked.
     "She's the one who had the accident. What can I do for you?"
     The older man winked. "A lot, but my leg aches. When you have time, I'd like an injection."
     "And I'm due for my sleeping pill," the second patient said.
     "Give me fifteen minutes."
     Susan left the room and repeated the scene with slight variations in the other rooms of the district. She hated to lie, but there was no reason for the patients to know one of the nurses had been murdered. What could they do but worry?
     When she returned to the nurses' station, she had a list of requests for pain medication and sleepers for eleven patients. She and Julie reached the desk at the same time.
     "Will we ever get done?" Julie asked.
     Susan looked at Trish and the two practicals who were seated at the desk charting. "You will. I'll be here for hours. I have all the charts to write." She remembered the expected admission and groaned. "Kit, what's happening with the new patient?"
     "The ER thinks we're having a silent code. Ms. Vernon backed me up. They weren't pleased, but they agreed to hold the patient until nights arrive. The police are here. No one can leave until they've been questioned."
     "You're kidding," Julie said. "I have a date."
     "He'll have to wait." Kit smiled slyly. "We're all suspects."
     Once again, Susan heard echoes of Barbara in Kit's voice. "The police will have to wait until my patients are settled. After all, this is a hospital." She nodded to Trish and opened the med room door.


MY PLACES


BUY MARK
http://bookswelove.net/authors/walters-janet-lane-romance-fantasy-suspense-medical/

Thursday, January 24, 2019

Thursday's Fourth Scene from Seducing the Attorney #MFRWAuthor #BWLPublishing #Custody #OT #Law


The chill in her voice puzzled Tony. He had proposed a plan to benefit them all. She wouldn’t need to ply her trade with anyone but him. The baby would have a nanny he liked.
Tony retreated to the couch so he could watch her and the boy. There had to be a way to seduce her into his arms for the weekend. This thought raised expectations and part of him throbbed with energy.
He drew a deep breath. Earlier his approach had been a bit crude unlike his usual smooth approach. Something about her raised an urgent need to possess. This evening he needed to slowly reel her in.
Lauren finished feeding the child and handed him what looked like a hard biscuit. She returned to the small kitchen and ladled soup from a deep plastic bowl into a pan.
“Are you eating here or going out?”
“Here.” He said.
She put two bowls, two plates and two mugs on the counter. After programming the coffeemaker she assembled two sandwiches with slices of chicken and Swiss cheese and placed them in the skillet. Once she flipped the pair she heated the soup, filled bowls with coffee, slid the sandwiches onto the plate and filled the bowls.
Tony carried his food to the dining room table and returned for hers. Lauren pulled the highchair to the end of the table and slid her plate to the side.
Tony wished she had taken the seat beside him the way he’d planned. A woman like her would respond to touch and he could convince her to spend the weekend in his arms. With this thought he slipped off a loafer and stretched until his foot caressed her leg.
She edged her chair back and attacked her food like a starving prisoner of war at a banquet.
“Be careful. You might choke.”
“You,” she snapped.
“Not any idea of fun. I’m not into choking games.”
“Neither am I. I wish you would take your innuendos and head to the city.”
“Not without the child.”
“His name is Jamie or James if you’re being formal.”
He could almost see sparks shooting from her hazel eyes. He looked forward to more intimate encounters. “I hear you.”
She gathered her dishes and carried them to the kitchen. She returned for his. The clock chimed six times. She wiped the baby’s face and hands. After popping a video into the player she sat on the couch with the baby on her lap.
Nothing he wanted to watch. Children sang and danced to silly songs. Tony went to the car for his bags.


MY PLACES


BUY MARK
http://bookswelove.net/authors/walters-janet-lane-romance-fantasy-suspense-medical/


Thursday, January 17, 2019

Thursday's Fourth Scene Seducing the Doctor #MFRWAuthor #BWLPublishingLTD #Medicine #Romance

Cassie avoided his question. He couldn’t dislike weddings any more than she did but she felt no need to speak about Tim and the aborted ceremony. Matt’s arrival coupled with her ex-fiancĂ©’s actions had brought her past into the present. She curled her hands into fists.
The voice message to her had turned her world into tatters. “I married Rhonda this morning. Could you cover my patients tomorrow?”
The one to the partners had omitted the request for coverage and added he would be in on Monday to explain.
She had fled to the cabin in upstate New York not far from the Vermont border.
After sliding from the couch she glanced at her watch. Six thirty. She needed a way to divert Matt’s curiosity and to aid her resistance to his appeal.
“Are you hungry?” The flare of interest in his eyes made her regret the question. “I mean for food.”
He winked. “Among other things but I can eat.”
She entered the kitchen area. “Won’t be fancy.”
He followed. “Most of the time I eat out or order in.”
She opened the chest freezer. “Chicken or fish?” She had brought them with her.
He closed the distance and stood close enough for her to feel warmth radiating from his body. “What about the steaks?”
“Belong to the owner. I’d rather not use them.”
“We can replace them.”
She removed a package of chicken strips. “This is healthier. The cardiologist speaks. I’ll do a stir fry.”
At the refrigerator she removed an assortment of fresh vegetables. Tomorrow she would need to shop for more than clothes. She started a pot of wild rice, gathered herbs and spices, defrosted the chicken and chopped vegetables. Keeping busy held temptation at bay.
“Am I allowed one of the beers in the fridge?”
“Go ahead.” Dr. Evans had said she should feel free to use anything she found but she decided the gourmet steaks were too pricy.
Cassie finished the vegetables and cut and seasoned the chicken. A bit of oil into a skillet and she was ready to cook. A wok would have been better but she could improvise. Before long the food was ready to serve. She carried the dishes to the table and discovered Matt had found plates and silverware.
He served himself, tasted and grinned. “Seems you like spice.”
“In my food.”
“We’ll see.”
The cocky challenge alerted her. They would see. She feared she would take the dare. She stared at her plate. Had he seen the flash of interest she couldn’t deny.
Enough. You’re not in high school. Nothing has changed. You’re the same person he rejected back then.
Matt cleared his throat. “So why don’t you like weddings?”
Cassie drew a deep breath. “I just don’t.”
“That’s no answer. I’ll keep asking until I know. Are your friends dragging man after man into your life telling you each one is perfect for you?”
“No.”
“Spill your reasons. You’ll feel better.”
Would she? A bubble of anger surfaced. “Why do you want to know?”
“Curiosity and maybe I can help.”
He seemed sincere. As yet no one would know until she didn’t show up at the shower. “Tonight would have been my wedding shower.”
“Here?”
“At a colleague’s home. As you can see I won’t be there.”
“Did you call the wedding off?”
Cassie shook her head. “No.”
A frown wrinkled his forehead. “Why skip the shower?”
Her face burned. “He married our office nurse yesterday.”
Matt half rose. “That man’s an idiot.”
“Or he realized he’d made a mistake and found someone more interesting.”
“No way.” Matt clasped her hand. “How long has he been seeing this woman?”
“Socially I don’t know but four days a week at the office. When we needed a nurse, he recommended her so we hired her.”
“And you didn’t ask him any of these questions.”
Cassie pulled her hand free. “Not when you receive the news by voice mail.” Her fork clattered on the table. Her chest felt tight. Tears burned her eyes.
Matt groaned. “Then I crashed back into your life and reminded you of another incident.”
“You could say that.” She pushed her chair back. Before tears erupted she had to hide. She dashed away.
Matt caught her and pulled her into an embrace. “Listen to me. The man is a jerk and a fool. So was I all those years ago.” He turned her to face him and tilted her chin with a thumb. His lips touched hers.
Cassie felt ribbons of heat sweeping along her skin. Before she’d realized who Matt was she’d been attracted to his voice and his body. There were high school days and the fantasies woven before and after the move. Could she trust herself not to dive into another relationship headed nowhere. But she had thought Tim was safe. Then he walked away.
She could refuse what Matt offered. That was a wise choice but being in his arms felt good. Could she handle the storm of emotion she would experience when he walked away? Dare she take a chance?
He deepened the kiss running his tongue over her lips and slipping inside her mouth to stroke. All logic fled. She didn’t want to fight the fires of passion.
His hands slid down her back to circle her waist. His tongue danced along hers and slowly withdrew. He raised his head and drew a breath. “I want you.”
“Are you sure?” She hated the shakiness of her voice. She could handle this.
“Feels right to me.” He met her gaze. “The moment I saw you crouching beside me I wanted you. Let me show you how much.”
She closed her eyes. Sex wouldn’t mend a broken heart. Had hers been broken? Her pride had been shattered and her self-esteem bruised. Had Tim’s action really surprised her? He’d been reluctant to name a wedding date until the senior partners had pushed. Deep down she’d expected him to walk away. She’d refused to admit his actions had been reminiscent of her father’s lack of affection and his neglect. She had never met him.
Anger bubbled to the surface. She’d wasted years waiting for Tim to agree on a date. Then he had lied. She drew a deep breath. Matt was honest. He wanted sex and no promises of more than one night.
Matt nibbled on her earlobe. “How long were you engaged?”
“Five years.”
“And you never pushed for marriage.”
She shrugged. “Several times.”
“What was he waiting for?”
“The right time. We had to finish our residencies since long distance marriages don’t work. We had to be established in our practice of medicine. Then we had to be made full partners. Was to be a wedding present from our partners.”
He stroked her nape. “Did you live together?”
She shook her head. “We each had our own place.”





MY PLACES


BUY MARK
http://bookswelove.net/authors/walters-janet-lane-romance-fantasy-suspense-medical/

Thursday, January 10, 2019

Thursday's Fourth Scene Seducing the Innkeeper #MFRWAuthor #BWLPublishingLTD #Romance #Hidden child

Mark wheeled his suitcases along the cobblestone path leading from the inn to the cottages. The Sisters Curious walked beside him. Though matters weren’t going as he’d planned he intended to stay until his questions were answered and he spent some time with his son.
He wanted to return to the desk and grill Christa. He didn’t know the boy’s name and he had no intention of asking his younger escorts. Had Christa walked beside him they could have negotiated an agreement. He knew of one reason that wouldn’t work. There’d been no compromise in her stance. She had drawn her line and dared him to make a move. He would and soon. Backing off wasn’t part of his nature.
A two story house with white clapboard siding stood on a half circle with five cottages strung like the tail of a kite. A garden lined both sides of the path. He noticed pumpkins, clusters of mums in variegated colors and an apple tree with a few dangling red fruit. The rest of the garden showed shrubs and bushes with brown or colored leaves.
His guides pointed to the last cottage. “That’s yours.”
Mark chuckled. Christa wasn’t making this easy but ten years ago, their first few encounters had challenged him. He had won then and he would now. He pulled his luggage to the door of cottage number five.
The taller of the two young women touched his arm. “I’m Stella. The runt is Peggy. If Christa keeps icing you we won’t. We can show you some fun.”
The second smiled. “We could help you settle in. Show you where everything is. Even fill you in on what Christa’s been doing.”
“No help needed.” He slipped the card into the slot. “I’m sure you have things to do.”
“Helping won’t be a problem,” Peggy said. “We have hours before we’re due at the inn. I run the cash register and Stel’s the hostess for the dining room.” She stepped closer. “We don’t work on weekends.”
“What does Christa do?”
“Acts like the inn belongs to her and no one else,” Stella said. “Oversees the kitchen, the rooms, handles reservations and keeps the books.”
“She’s a workaholic,” Peggy said. “Even though we both have business degrees she won’t let us help.”
He imagined they didn’t offer to help. He’d seen their kind of behavior in some of his friends from years past. He opened the door and pulled the luggage over the threshold. He closed the door leaving the sisters on the other side. Looks like Christa has more problems that the one he’d handed her.
He paused to survey the room. Polished wood floors. Cream colored walls. A large fireplace. A huge screen television. There were two couches that opened into beds. An archway led to the kitchen where a half wall divided the area between cooking and eating. He put the beer in the refrigerator and the tin of cookies on the counter. In the cupboard he found sturdy pottery dishes, closed canisters, tea, coffee and powdered creamer.
Mark pulled his luggage down the hall. One door led to a room with three sets of bunk beds. The second revealed a bathroom with a shower stall. The third door opened into a spacious bedroom with chest, dressers and a king-sized bed. The bathroom had a Jacuzzi. He opened a suitcase. As he unpacked he wondered how he could lure Christa into the bed.
Plans for a second seduction simmered in his thoughts. As the scheme unfolded his body reacted. He released a long held breath. He felt as hard as he had the first time he’d seen her. Scenes from their weekend of live-making flowed. They had spent more time in the raw than clothed. For four days they’d made love in every room of the apartment.
When he found his hand hovering over the zipped of his slacks he groaned. Though he ached for satisfaction he had to be subtle and cautious. Years ago there’d only been Christa. Now there was his son.
That thought shattered his erotic daydream. He put sweaters and underwear in drawers and hung slacks and jeans in the closet. He left his robe on the foot of the bed.
With unpacking completed he set up his computer in the dining alcove and plugged in the charger for his phone. He needed to check emails, call his brother to cancel their weekend plans and start his attorney searching for information.
There were no voice messages. As he started to leave one for his brother, Matt came on the line. “What do you mean you’re out of town indefinitely?”
“Exactly what I said. Something I need to deal with barged into my life.”
Matt laughed. “Something or someone?”
“You could say both.”
“Interesting. Thought you were a love and leave them kind of guy. Want me to join you and aid in the hunt?”
“Leave off, bro. I’ve founder and this time I plan to keep her.”
“Whoa. You’ve gone weird.”
“I’m serious.”
“Then good luck and be careful. Remember hunts can be traps.”
“Not this time. I’m doing the trapping and I’m always careful except once.” Years ago he had been captured. After that weekend he’d been granted immunity to the women he’d dated. “How’s the Home Make-Over contest going?”
“One more place to check. I’ll head there next weekend.”
“Have fun.” Mark laughed. “Maybe this time instead of a house you’ll find the woman of your dreams.”
“Doubtful. I’ll leave love and marriage to our sisters.”
“Don’t count us out. You never know when the Blakefield Curse will strike. Ciao.” He hung up and hit speed dial for his attorney.
“I’ll see if he’s available,” the secretary said. Moments later he heard his friend’s and lawyer’s voice.
“Mark, what’s up?” Tony asked.
“Need some advice.”
“Social or legal?”
“Mostly legal.”
“Spill.”
Mark explained where he was and why he’d driven to northern Vermont. “Haven’t seen my son yet but when you see the picture you’ll have no doubt I’m his father.”
“You say he’s about nine. We were in our last year around the time he was conceived. Never knew you had anything serious going on back then.”
“I did.”
“How can you be sure?” Tony asked. “You were never one to take chances.”
“Let’s say there was one time. Remember the long spring break weekend. You went to the beach and I stayed at school.”
Tony whistled. “And were a wreck when I returned. So you found her again. What do you want me to do?”
“Her name is Christa Parsons but she goes by Sommers now. She was a junior at the U. Place is Green Mountain Inn. Let me know what you learn.”
“Will do. Be careful. Sign no papers. Don’t make a verbal agreement or a promise. Might be a good idea to return home until we have the facts.”
“Not going to happen. Talk to you soon.” He hung up and started a new file on his laptop and typed an outline and questions for a feature on the inn.
He glanced at his watch. “Nearly three-thirty. Wonder if he’s home from school.” Mark grabbed his jacket and stepped outside. He glanced toward the house where he felt sure his son lived with Christa. Mark grinned. He could march to the house, pound on the door and announce himself. Not a wise move. He had to wait until he and Christa had their talk.
Feeling too restless to return to the cottage he set out to walk off some of his edgy energy. Just beyond the cottage he chose one of the paths starting on the level and then led up a small hill. At the top he stopped to survey the scenery.
A meadow spread from the slope to the edge of the lake. He noticed the wooden boat house and a pier. Across the lake he noticed a blaze of color. Splotches of orange and yellow flowed across a background of green. In the center of the display was a circle of scarlet. Were those sugar maples? Did Christa tap the trees to make syrup? That would add a note of interest to the feature if she agreed to have one done.
Would she or would she want him gone? Why hadn’t she told him about the pregnancy? He would have married. He’d been ready to take that step. Her disappearance had brought a cascade of emotions…fear for her, puzzlement and anger. His attempts to find her had been frustrating. There’d been no record of a Christa Parsons at the University. He’d begun to believe she had some scheme that had gone awry.
He leaned against a tree and fought a resurgence of that emotional storm. When had she changed her name? He drew a deep breath. He would learn the answer and the answer would define what he would do. He still wanted her and he wanted his son. Persuading her was the problem.
He pushed away from the tree and strode toward the lake. As he left the shade sunlight blinded him. When his vision cleared he saw a boy at the edge of the lake. The boy’s hair was blond. Mark’s heart hammered against his chest. He wanted to grab the boy and demand his name but caution was needed.
Mark continued forward. He saw a model boat skim across the water to the shore. The boy scooped the vessel and turned. Mark stared. There was no question of paternity. Mark faced himself at a younger age.
The boy halted. “Are you a ghost?”
“I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”
“You look like the man in a picture my mom has in her wallet. Was one of my dad. But you’re older.”
Mark swallowed. Christa had taken some snapshots during their time together. What had she told the boy? “What happened to your dad?”
The child shrugged. “I’m not ‘zactly sure. I wasn’t supposed to see the picture but my half aunts snuck it out and showed me. They thought they were funny.”
“Half aunts.” Mark held in a laugh.
The boy stood with the boat in one hand and the control in the other. “They’re Mom’s half-sisters so that makes them half aunts. When my grandfather and their mother died Mom had to take care of them.”
Mark sucked in a breath. Was that the reason Christa had left school so suddenly. That didn’t explain why she hadn’t told him about the pregnancy. “I can see why you call them that. Very inventive.”
“I’m glad they’re only half. They’re always bothering Mom for money and things, especially since Peggy finished college and they came here to live. Mom does all the work.” He started up the path and turned. “If you’re not a ghost, who are you?”
“Mark Blakefield.” Though he wanted to identify himself as the man in the picture he couldn’t. Not until he and Christa talked.
“See you.” The boy ran off.
“Wait.” But his son had vanished. Did the boy suspect the truth? What was his son’s name? The encounter made the talk with Christa imperative. He turned and strode to the inn. A green Jeep pulled out of the lot.
When he entered the lobby the elderly woman seated behind the counter looked up. “Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Christa.”
“You just missed her. Do you want to leave a message?”
Matt shook his head. “I’ll catch her later. He turned from the desk and returned to the cottage.



MY PLACES


BUY MARK
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