Fiancé at Her Fingertips (9 page)

“You sure? Last time you used my clubs you came close to whipping me.”

Debra stared at him. “The last time I used them? The last time? What are you talking about? I have never used your golf clubs. I’ve never golfed with you before. I never even met you before last week! Why do you insist on perpetuating this ridiculous hoax?”

Logan took the club and put a palm to her fevered brow. “Never golfed? Never met? Next you’ll be saying we’ve never kissed.” He stepped closer. “We dispelled that myth mere moments ago, but I’m willing to kiss you again for the record,” he offered.

Debra slapped the gloved hand that reached for her. “Keep your distance, Lawyer Logan, and keep your hands to yourself. As soon as this little golf outing is over, you and I are going to end this madness, once and for all.”

Logan put a hand to the bill of his Bears visor. “I’m at your service, ma’am,” he said.

Debra stomped to a nearby bench and plopped down. Preparing to tee off, her father looked up from his scrutiny of the ball at his feet. “Where’s your club?” he asked.

“I’m using yours,” she said.

“Your ball?”

“I’ve got balls,” Logan said, sitting down beside her.

“And some to spare,” Debra muttered.

Logan laughed and slid toward her. “And remember, I’m always eager to share,” he said with a smile, snaking an arm around her shoulders.

Debra removed his arm and placed it in his lap. “How nice for you.” She scooted to the far end of the bench and focused her attention on her father’s preparations to tee off. With a grunt, then a groan, Debra’s father sliced his shot. He bent to retrieve his tee.

“Tough luck, Stu.” Logan rose. “You sure you’re feeling up to golf? That’s the second one you’ve missed.”

Debra looked at her father. “It’s pretty hot for golf, Dad. What do you say we call it a day?”

“I told you I’m fine,” her father snapped. “Who’s going next?”

“Ladies first,” Logan said, and handed Debra his club. She grabbed it and marched to the spot where her father teed off.

“Has your daughter always been this stubborn, Stu?” he asked Debra’s father. “She never hits from the women’s markers. She insists on taking that hairy beast of hers everywhere. She refuses to take up cycling because she’s afraid it will give her a flat butt.”

Debra squeezed the club hard and cursed. How could this stranger know her so well? She stared at the ground in front of her and realized she’d neglected to grab a tee.

“Here.” Logan appeared and offered her a tee. She took it and buried it to the cap in the ground and had to pull it back out. She straightened and frowned at the empty tee.

“Here,” Logan said again, and positioned a ball on the top. Debra stared at it. It was a pink Flying Lady, the kind she always used. “It got mixed up with mine,” Logan explained.

Debra glared at the dimpled ball: yet another stark reminder that her world was spinning out of control and she’d better get a lasso on it before it got away from her for good. She concentrated all her energy and frustrations on that bright pink ball and let loose with a killer swing that brutalized the tee. She smacked the poor Flying Lady dead center, sending it down the middle of the fairway, straight as a trooper’s little white line and close to two hundred yards. Debra stared at the club in her hands. Ye gods, even the blasted club felt familiar! She thrust it back at its owner.

“Outstanding shot, my girl,” her father said. “Outstanding.”

“Beautiful,” Lawyer Logan agreed. “Just beautiful.”

Except he wasn’t looking at her Pink Lady on the fairway. He was looking at her.

Debra hurried to her cart and sat shaking, unnerved by the feelings of déjà vu she was experiencing. She watched Logan hit a beautiful two-twenty-plus tee shot, and found herself admiring the powerful play of the muscles of his arms and thighs as they contracted with his swing. It all seemed so familiar.
He
seemed familiar. Yet he couldn’t be.

Logan replaced his club in his bag and jumped in beside her father. “Ready?” he called back.

She shrugged and put her foot on the pedal. The cart didn’t move. She punched the pedal again. Nothing. She checked the key and tried again. Still nothing. She hit the steering wheel with an open palm.

“I should have known when I got cart number thirteen that something like this was going to happen,” she said. “With the way my luck’s been going, I should have known.”

Logan hopped out of his golf cart and headed for Debra and her defunct cart. He took the key out, put it in again, turned it, and maneuvered the foot pedal with his hand. Unlucky number thirteen stayed put.

“Guess you’re afoot,” Logan handed her the key. “Good thing your clubs fell out or you’d be carrying them. And we’re a long way from the club house.” He smiled down at her. “A mighty long way.”

Debra snatched the cart key away from him. “You can’t expect me to walk all the way back to the club house. I’ll take your cart back and arrange for another one. They can send someone out for this one.”

Logan shook his head. “I saw the way you abused poor old thirteen here, going pell-mell over hill and vale, spitting gravel, popping wheelies, and almost taking out pedestrian traffic. No way am I going to entrust my brand-new golf cart to a woman who could shame Jeff Gordon.”

Debra jumped out of her defunct cart. “How dare you insult my cart-driving capabilities? Which, by the way, would not have been necessary if you hadn’t abducted my father in the first place!”

“Abducted? We’re playing a round of golf, for crying out loud.”

“
Supposed
to be playing a round of golf!” Debra’s father spoke up from his seat in the canopy-covered, nicely appointed golf cart owned and operated by Lawyer Logan. “Or would you two rather stand there in the hot sun bickering the rest of the afternoon?”

Logan nodded. “Sorry, Stu. Your daughter here is the one person I know who can rattle my thought processes. The only one.” He hopped into the passenger seat. “Coming, Debra?” He patted his lap.

She stared at him. “You’re insane!”

“Debra,” her father interjected, “we haven’t got all day. Either you’re riding or walking. Which will it be?”

Debra’s mouth flew open. “You’re making me walk?” she asked. “Your daughter? The fruit of your loins?”

“The pain in my ass, you mean,” he grumbled. “Listen, fruit of my loins, Logan has offered you a seat. Either take it or leave it.”

Logan reached out and took her hand. The moment he touched her she knew she could never, ever sit on his lap, even under threat of torture. Under penalty of being poached. She yanked her hand away and maneuvered herself on the back of the cart, wedging herself between her father’s and Logan’s bags.

“I’ll ride back here,” she said, shoving Lawyer Logan’s titanium clubs away from her face. “It’s safer.”

“But the sun will be beating right down on you,” her father pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter,” Debra grumbled. “It seems my brain is already fried.”

By the time they’d finished the front nine and started on the back, Debra was at a full baste. The temperature had risen steadily, with humidity and dew point sparring for supremacy, providing that quasitropical climate that had one gasping for breath and sweating up a storm while remaining idle.

Logan retrieved a twenty-ounce chilled bottle of water from his handy-dandy built-in cooler compartment. He handed it to Debra’s father. “You look like you could use a bit of refreshment, Stu,” he said.

“Obliged, Logan,” came the reply, and Debra’s dad mopped his brow. “I guess it is a bit warmer than I first thought.”

Logan snagged another bottle of water, unscrewed the top, and handed it back. “Have a swig, Debra,” he said. “You’ve got to be hot and tired, hanging on to the bumper back there.”

Debra eyed the bottled water with lust in her heart, but forced herself to refuse his offer. “No, thank you. I’d rather drink from that water hazard over there,” she snapped, maintaining a brave front despite her parched throat and wind-chapped lips.

Logan shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said. “Stu, what do you say we make this the last hole of the day?” he suggested. “Your daughter was already overheated when she arrived.
She’s no doubt beyond heat exhaustion and well on her way to heatstroke, though she would stew in her own juices before she admitted it.”

Debra felt a twinge of gratitude toward Lawyer Logan. He had noticed her father’s fatigue, and accurately assessed that Stuart Daniels would not easily admit to any frailty, yet would cut the outing short if he felt his daughter was in a state of discomfort. Of course, going along with Logan’s suggestion meant she would have to agree with him this once, something Debra was not eager to do.

Her father, however, was her Achilles’ heel, and she suspected Liar Logan knew that, as well, the rat. He had her. And he knew it. “Much as I hate to admit it, Dad, I’m tuckered out,” Debra said. “My arms are so sore from holding on back here, I don’t think I could swing a club for the life of me.”

“You could still sit up here, Debra,” Logan responded.

“Fabulous!” she replied with enthusiasm. “I’ll drive and you sit back here!”

Her father smiled. “I don’t think that’s what he had in mind, young lady.”

“Well, if we’re all agreed, let’s head for the barn,” Logan said. “I believe your delightful daughter hoped to spend some quality time with me this afternoon, Stu, so cutting short our golf is no hardship on me.”

Debra bit her lip and swore that Lawyer Logan would live to rue the day he’d decided to have his mug plastered all over retail goods.

The lunatic lawyer suddenly set the golf cart in motion, and, unprepared, Debra flailed about, grasping for a hand-hold but finding only air. A hard jolt sent her careening off the back of Logan’s cart and tumbling onto the hard, bumpy ground. Her momentum carried her down a steep hill. She landed in a murky, slime-infested, algae-riddled water hazard near the bottom. The accompanying splash brought the golf cart to a stop.

“Debra!” Debra’s father yelled. “My God! Are you all right?”

She hauled herself to her hands and knees and crawled out of the dirty pool of water. She pulled a long, filthy lock of hair out of her eyes and swiped a finger across the filmy lenses of her sunglasses. She spied a cloudy Logan Alexander coming down the bank toward her. He held out a hand to help her up. She slapped it away.

“Get away from me, you…you…you loony tune! Ever since you appeared in my life you’ve pushed me headlong into one inconceivable, incredible, indescribable implausibility after another. Just get away from me, you…you…lawyer!”

Logan straightened, trying—unsuccessfully, Debra noticed—to keep a straight face. “I take it that tirade means you are not hurt,” he said. “Except for your pride, of course.”

“Pride? Pride! Ha!” Debra said, moving to her hands and knees. “I didn’t bounce off that golf cart and roll down the hill on my pride, you nutjob!” Dripping, she stood and rubbed her soggy posterior.

“Could I be of service there?” Lawyer Logan followed the motions of her hand. “I’d be happy to offer a hand rubbing sore muscles.”

“You’ll be busy tending to your own sore muscles if you so much as touch me, Logan Alexander,” she said, stomping out of the creek, her sneakers squeaking with every step. She shook like a dog and splattered Logan’s crisp white polo with little brown droplets. “How dare you bounce me out of the cart like that! I could have been injured!”

“You don’t think I did that on purpose, do you? It was an accident, Debra. An unfortunate accident.”

“Yeah, like your turning up in my life was an unfortunate accident!” Debra half shrieked, advancing on him, thrusting a hand at his chest. “Tell me! What do I have to do to get you out of my life?” She pushed harder. “What!” She pushed him again. “Hire an exorcist? Employ a hit man? Pay you off? What? Tell me! How do I put the blasted genie back in the bottle?” Debra put both hands into a final shove, and
Lawyer Logan lost his footing and fell backward into the stinky, stagnant waters behind him.

“Debra!” Stuart Daniels emerged from the shadows of the trees at the top of the hill. “What in God’s name is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?”

“Yes, yes! I’ve completely lost it, Dad! I’ve become almost as deranged as Lawyer Logan here. I’ve been trying to explain for the last week: This man is not the man in my life. I made it all up. I made the whole thing up!”

“Debra, what on earth…?”

Debra’s father took a step forward and clutched his chest, faltering as he pitched forward. He crumpled to the ground and rolled toward the soggy twosome at the bottom of the bank.

“Dad? Dad!” Debra hurried to her prone father and rolled him over. She touched his face. “My God, I think he’s unconscious!”

Logan pulled himself out of the lagoon and knelt beside her father. He put two fingers to the man’s neck.

“His pulse is weak, Debra, and his breathing is shallow.” He repositioned her father’s head. “He needs an ambulance. Now.”

“Dear God, we’re so far from the club house!” Debra said, and wiped her father’s clammy brow with the bottom of her wet shirt.

Logan vaulted to his feet and raced back up the hill. He was talking on a cell phone when he rushed back to her. “Yes, that’s right. We’re at the water hazard near the thirteenth hole,” he said. “Probable heart attack. Hurry.” He snapped the cover of the cell phone shut, then flipped it open again. “What’s the name of your father’s doctor, Debra? His heart doctor.”

Debra stared at him, her mind slow to register anything beyond her father’s bloodless, ghostly pale face in her lap. “What?”

“His doctor, Debra. We want him waiting at the hospital when the ambulance gets there. What’s his name?”

“Schiller,” she said, her voice shaky. “Dr. Alfred Schiller. He practices at Mercy.”

Logan made arrangements for the doctor to meet them when the ambulance brought her father in. He surprised Debra and made another call to her mother, advising her that Stuart had become overheated on the golf course and would be taken to the hospital by ambulance as a precaution, and for her to meet them there.

Debra acknowledged the wisdom of Logan’s downplaying the seriousness of her father’s condition. She could imagine her frantic mother unleashed on the streets of unsuspecting Springfield behind the wheel of her long sedan, careening around one corner after another to get to her beloved husband. She’d end up in the emergency room herself.

“Thank you,” she said. “I never thought to call Mother.”

“That’s natural. You’re focusing on other things right now. Hang in there, Stu.” He put a hand on her father’s neck. “Hang in there.”

Debra looked up at Logan through the grimy lenses of her sunglasses. Despite the blurred silhouette, she knew the exact moment his eyes were on her. He reached over and pulled her glasses off her nose. “He’ll be all right,” he assured her.

The whine of an ambulance siren in the distance caught Debra’s attention. “Hear that, Dad? Help is here. Everything is going to be fine now, Dad. Just fine. You’ll be out here replacing divots in no time. You’ll see.”

The ambulance rolled up, and the only thought Debra could manage was how appalled her father would be to know that an ambulance coming for him had made deep furrows on the grounds of his precious Oaks. Her father was given oxygen and an IV, and was loaded into the ambulance. Debra prepared to follow.

“Sorry, miss.” A paramedic put a hand on her arm. “No room. We’ve got a trainee. You’ll have to follow in your car.”

Debra’s eyes filled with tears. “But he’s my father. He needs me.”

“He needs medical attention,” Logan said, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward his golf cart. “Your mother will
be waiting for him at the hospital. If we hurry, we’ll get there in no time.”

Debra pulled her arm from his. “We? What do you mean, ‘we’?”

“Are you planning to walk back to your car?” he said. “For God’s sake, Debra, let your damned pride take a backseat for once and let me help.”

Debra debated no time before hoofing it toward Lawyer Logan’s golf cart.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Lawyer Logan caught her. “Scoot over and leave the driving to me.”

Debra frowned but complied. “Step on it, then, and get me to the parking lot. I’ll take it from there,” she said.

Despite Lawyer Logan’s earlier insistence that his splendid golf cart be handled with kid gloves, he took off across country, avoiding the cart paths and steering the most direct course for the club house. Debra had to hold on for dear life to stay in her seat. They reached the parking lot in record time. Logan drew the cart up to her vehicle, and Debra jumped out.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said, and hurried to the driver’s-side door. She reached in her pocket for her car key, and realization dawned: She’d stuck it in the zipper pocket of her golf bag. The same golf bag that was sitting somewhere in the middle of a hundred acres of golf course. She smacked the back of her car. “Damn!”

“Debra?” Logan walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Debra’s eyes filled with tears. “No, I’m not all right, damn it! I can’t seem to do anything right. My damned car key is in my damned golf bag, which is somewhere out there on that damned golf course. Damn! Damn! Damn!”

Logan took hold of her arm and pulled her with him toward his Suburban.

“You’re not in any condition to drive anyway. I’ll take you. I meant to follow you to the hospital.” He opened the car door. “Hop in.”

Debra looked at him, glad for the offer of a ride but wary of his motives. He raised an eyebrow at her, as if he could read her thoughts.

“Trust me, Debra,” he said. “Please.”

Debra found herself seeking the bright blue of his eyes, breathtaking in their crystal clear intensity amidst the grime of his dirty face. She nodded in defeat. It was, after all, the least he could do for her. And it was just a ride to the hospital.

Twenty minutes later Debra hit the emergency room door running. Lawyer Logan had let her off and told her he’d be in when he’d parked the car. Debra hoped he would take himself off, but knew that wish was in vain. She sprinted toward the check-in desk, then caught sight of her mother in a hallway outside an exam room.

“Mother!” Debra hailed her, and moved to embrace her. “How is he? What have they told you?”

Alva Daniels wiped her eyes. “It’s not good, Debra. Not good.”

“What have they told you?” Debra repeated.

“Your father had another heart attack. Apparently an artery is blocked again. They want to go in and take another look. If the balloon won’t work, your father may require bypass surgery!” Debra’s mother began to cry, and Debra patted her back, feeling clumsy and awkward in the unfamiliar role of comforter.

“I’m sure he will be fine, Mother,” she said. “He’s a tough old bird. Besides, the angioplasty may work this time around. Let’s not anticipate the worst, okay? We need to stay upbeat for Dad’s sake.”

Her mother nodded and wiped her eyes. “You don’t think I would let him know I’ve been crying, do you? And I’m sure you’re right. He’ll beat this. It’s just that he looked so awful when they brought him in. I thought he was dead.”

Debra nodded. “It got pretty hot out on the golf course,” she agreed.

“Old fool! He should know better than to be out hitting
stupid little balls around in this heat. I’m glad you were there, Debra, and got help for him so quickly,” her mother said. “The paramedics said it made all the difference in the world.”

Debra swallowed, reluctant to admit that Lawyer Logan had been the first to dive into action, that she’d been paralyzed with fear. “I wasn’t actually the one who summoned help, Mother,” she said.

“Oh?”

“Yes, Lawyer Logan—I mean, Logan Alexander—called for medical assistance on his cell phone.”

Her mother looked at Debra, this time a sweeping look. Her eyes traveled upward to the top of her mud-caked head to the bottom of her once-white golf shoes. Alva’s eyes grew big. “What on earth happened to you?” she asked.

Debra made a swipe at her face with a hand. “Uh, I lost my balance and fell in a water hazard,” she said.

Her mother’s eyes grew even bigger. They were now focused on a point beyond Debra’s left shoulder. “And I suppose you lost your balance and fell in a water hazard, too?”

Debra turned, surprised to see that Lawyer Logan had joined them.

Logan shook his head. “I was pushed,” he said.

Debra’s mother gasped. “Pushed?”

“It’s a long story, Mother,” Debra said. “I misplaced my car keys, and Logan was kind enough to drive me.” She turned to her nemesis and stuck out a hand—then realized how grubby it was and withdrew it. “Thank you for the ride. Mother can take me back to retrieve my car later. So thank you again.”

Logan shook his head. “No thanks necessary,” he said. “And if you don’t mind, Alva, I’d like to hang around until I know that Stuart is going to be all right.”

Debra scowled as her mother took Logan’s arm and pulled him toward the cubicle where her father was being examined.

“I’m sure he would want you to stay, Logan, for Debra’s sake,” she said.

Debra bit off an expletive and tossed her hair out of her eyes. Little chunks of mud dropped to the floor. “I’m sure Logan would rather go home and get cleaned up, Mother,” she suggested, eyeing her “boyfriend” with obvious intent. “He can’t be very comfortable in those clothes.”

Logan smiled at her, his teeth indecently white. “No need to fret on my account, Debra, honey. I’m in much better shape than you.”

Debra gritted her teeth, and was about to pursue the issue when Dr. Schiller emerged from the curtained room. “Alva. Debra. Stuart’s condition has stabilized,” he said. “He did suffer a mild heart attack, and we’ll need to go in and have another look at those arteries. It’s possible that the medication we put him on isn’t doing the trick, and we may need to switch. We’ll have to see the degree of blockage before we proceed with a course of treatment, of course. It’s also possible one of the other arteries has become blocked, and we may be able to take care of it the same way we did last time, or perhaps insert a stent. We’ll have to wait and see. In the meantime, Stuart will be admitted to the cardiac floor, and we’ll get those tests scheduled as soon as we can. You can see him now.”

True to her word, Debra’s mother showed no signs of her earlier tears. “Thank you, Doctor,” she said. “Oh, you haven’t had a chance to meet Logan!” She motioned. “Dr. Schiller, this is Debra’s boyfriend, Logan Alexander.”

Debra watched the two clasp hands, and shook her head back and forth at the manic make-believe mischance her life had become.

“Logan Alexander. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you,” Dr. Schiller said.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Not from Debra, I’ll wager,” he said, and Debra stuck her tongue out at him. Dr. Schiller caught her juvenile action and frowned.

“As a matter of fact, Stuart was singing your praises earlier, Logan,” Dr. Schiller said. “He is delighted with the choice Debra has made. Thrilled, in fact. And a happy patient is a
healthy patient,” he added, turning to Debra. “Remember that. No upsets for your father right now. Okay?”

Debra resisted the urge to stomp her feet and shriek in exasperation. Who did he think she was, anyway? Lizzie Borden? “I have no intention of upsetting my father, Doctor,” she said, her nose in the air.

“Of course you don’t, Debra. Of course you don’t. Now, if there are no more questions, I’ll see about getting Stuart admitted.” The doctor excused himself, and Debra hurried to open the curtain beside her father’s bed, her mother and Logan Alexander on her heels.

Debra gasped at the pinched, tired face of her beloved father. Her mother covered her lapse.

“Stuart Daniels.” Alva bent and gave her husband a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t you know enough to come in out of the heat? And all for a game of barnyard billiards!”

“Uh, I think that’s pasture pool, Mother.” Debra forced herself past the shock of her father’s frail appearance and stepped forward to take his hand. “Pretty convenient time to have the big one, Dad,” she teased, and kissed his forehead. “I was ahead by six strokes.”

Hands cupped Debra’s shoulders. “With borrowed clubs,” Logan inserted.

Debra’s father gave a weak smile. “Logan, I’m so glad to see you here,” he said, and fumbled with the oxygen tube in his nose.

Debra’s mother slapped his hand away. “Leave that alone,” she ordered.

Stuart Daniels’s eyes crinkled. “See what I told you about these women of mine, Logan?” he said. “I’d be much obliged if you’d take one of them off my hands. Two fretting women is more than any one man can handle.” His expression grew serious. “I take it you two have patched up your differences.”

When Debra was about to assert to the contrary, Logan increased the pressure on her shoulders. “Remember what the doctor said,” he whispered. “No upsets.”

Debra clenched her teeth to keep from screaming.

“I can’t tell you how relieved I am that Debra has you, Logan, especially now,” Debra’s father continued. “I’ve worried about my little girl here for a long time, and prayed she would find the right man to spend her life with. You’re the answer to my prayers. I can rest easy, knowing my daughter has found someone who cares so much for her, someone who will treat her the way she deserves to be treated. I’m glad you turned out to be that man, Logan.”

Logan squeezed Debra’s shoulders again. “It’s a tough job, but somebody has to do it, Stu,” he replied.

Debra gnawed her lower lip. She did not like the way this conversation was going, but felt helpless to do anything about it. She didn’t want to cause her father more worry. It was obvious he’d been fretting over her for some time. God knew he didn’t need more to worry about. Yet, to assuage her father’s fears meant enlisting Lawyer Logan’s cooperation in a campaign of deceit, when all she wanted was to box the guy up, secure him with packing tape, and send him back to the retailer COD.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Stuart looked at Debra. “Pucker up and be done with it.”

Debra’s eyes widened as her father’s eyes gleamed in anticipation. He couldn’t be serious!

“How about it, Debra?” Logan tapped his lips. “You want to kiss and make it better?”

Debra tried to pull away, but found herself turned in Logan Alexander’s arms like a life-size Barbie doll. He placed her arms over his broad, damp shoulders. Debra gasped as Logan’s mouth descended. Her protests, if they even existed, were stifled midbreath. Against her better judgment, she found herself responding to Logan’s tender assault on her lips.