Stef Ann Holm (4 page)

When she turned the corner, a thicket of pines blocked her view. The road had a patch of dirt from the river wash, and the front-wheel-drive Passat forged over the rough spot. She wiped her cheek with her fingertips, then switched on the heater.

If she hadn’t left her cell phone at home, she would have called her mother. Her parents lived in Sun Lakes, Arizona, and visited only during the warm seasons. They hated the cold winters in Idaho.

When Dad had retired from the telephone company, they’d moved from Boise to Arizona. It about killed Lucy to lose them, and it was the same for her parents, but they’d lived all their lives in Idaho, and now it was their turn to do what they wanted. Lucy didn’t think they’d ever fully moved past the death of her older brother; he’d drowned in an irrigation canal when he was four years old. Idaho was only a sore reminder to Mom and Dad.

Lucy drove past the High Country Motel, its lot filled with four-wheel drives. Bud had mentioned that was the place to trade gossip in town. With all those vehicles taking up spots, something good must have happened. For a moment, Lucy was vaguely curious. Then again, anything in a town like this could be made into something big just for the sake of conversation.

Sutter’s Gourmet Grocery came into view and she circled the block, still getting used to the parking setup. There were some empty spots down the middle of the low-traffic block, but she had to make sure she wasn’t facing the wrong direction.

Snagging her purse, she crossed her arms over herself to ward off the cold air of dusk. Inside Sutter’s, she was met by the aromas of soups in the deli section. Lentil among them, if she guessed right. She loved this grocery store. It was intimate, quaint and it lacked for nothing. The prices were on the steep side, though. No supersaver chains in Red Duck.

Near the entrance was the floral area, and the sweet fragrance of roses mingled with the heavenly scents of the soup. A newspaper rack lined the wall, along with the latest paperbacks.

She’d already been here once today, purchasing a few things for the house: toilet paper, milk and bread. The boys had wanted candy—and she’d given in. A box of Popsicles, cereal, and the cold cuts they’d eaten for dinner tonight.

Lucy could get lost in this store. She walked the aisles once more, taking in all the products, her mind working on special menus for special occasions. The place had a fabulous import section, from minicorns to oils and olives. The deli made nice appetizers.

Wandering toward the espresso bar, Lucy checked the glass-fronted bulletin board to make sure her notice was still up. It was. Now if only her phone would ring off the hook. And with calls for
her,
not Raul Nunez.

The fact that people would actually call her looking for him, or to ask her if she had his recipe…it made her reconsider the man’s influence in town. He had more than she’d realized. During their meeting, he’d been arrogant, but friendly. In hindsight, maybe too friendly, as if he knew something and she didn’t.

Shrugging, she found herself gravitating toward the meat case. It was extensive, with a vast array of fresh seafood. Her boys were such picky eaters, they wouldn’t touch a filet of salmon or a halibut steak. They wanted fish sticks.

Cooking for the three of them, she was limited in what she served. When she was married to Gary, he’d loved her cooking, couldn’t eat enough of it, and she could get real creative at home. The boys grumbled, so oftentimes she’d made them a grilled cheese sandwich on the side.

She wished she had someone at home who would appreciate her efforts. But as soon as she thought about it, she envisioned a man at the table. Where that thought came from, she couldn’t guess. She hadn’t gone out on a date since her divorce had been finalized. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been asked. She had. She just hadn’t been ready. Bitterness didn’t go well with a glass of wine or a movie.

But lately, she’d contemplated going out on a trial run. Nothing daunting, where she’d be stuck for hours. Coffee, maybe. But then Jason got into trouble at school and her idea about dating changed. She had to focus on her son rather than some romance that would probably go nowhere anyway.

Checking out the help-yourself seafood baskets of mussels and steamer claims, Lucy was lost in thought and didn’t readily hear her name being called.

“Lucy. It was Lucy, right?”

Her chin lifted and she stared into Drew Tolman’s face. She took a step back. The man was so tall, he filled her view and then some as she gazed at him.

When she’d first seen him in Opal’s Diner, his good looks had definitely gotten her attention—until it became quite clear he was a hard-core charmer even though he was taken. That brunette he was with had laid one on him and clearly stamped his mouth as her private territory.

If it weren’t for the fact she needed Jason to play Little League, Lucy wouldn’t have given Drew another thought. But it was important her son be involved with sports right now, and unfortunately, Drew was the coach.

Gazing at him, she willed the wayward lustful thoughts out of her head immediately. Although with her standing this close to him, a few snuck back.

He was gorgeous…simply gorgeous.

The way his hair was mussed gave him a casual air that suited him. He still wore the sweats and Sunday-worn shirt he’d had on earlier. The ball cap was missing, which attested to the messy hair. But he still looked good. Too good.

And he knew it in a nonconceited way.

She’d come across his type before. Jock men who just thought they were too fabulous for words. Every woman under one hundred would throw herself at them if they held their arms open wide. And Lucy was sure this man had held his arms open for quite a few ladies.

A former professional baseball player. She read magazines and all those tabloids. These guys usually had women in every state.

What was he doing in Red Duck, Idaho, of all places? She may have wondered, but she wasn’t going to ask him. She didn’t want to get personal with the man.

“You’re right,” she finally replied. Then she said something so stupid, even she cringed. “You’re Drew and your girlfriend’s name was Jacquie.”

So much for staying impersonal.

For a scant second she wondered if he was going to counter her claim about the girlfriend. Call it a woman’s intuition, but suddenly Lucy recognized there was trouble in paradise for that couple.

Not that it was her business—nor did she care.

Thankfully, he let the comment pass. “So, how are you liking town so far?”

“I like it. It’s different than Boise, but a good different. I’ll be glad to get settled in.”

“Where are you living?”

She paused, not sure if she should answer that. In Boise, she would have given a cross street as a general response. In Red Duck, when everyone proclaimed to know everyone’s business, chances were that Drew could easily find out.

“Lost River Road,” she said simply.

“Nice area.”

Some of it was. Their teardown was in an offshoot of a ritzy neighborhood a half mile away. Surrounding them was an overgrown horse pasture and rickety farm, with no sidewalks for skateboards. Bud kept a bunch of old Airstream coaches and dusty RVs on the adjacent property. It was surely no white picket fence scene. No wonder the boys were embarrassed. The idea of Drew seeing where she lived wasn’t one she wanted to imagine.

“Doing some shopping?” he asked.

He held a handbasket with a thick steak, big russet potato and a bag of spring mix inside. His soft leather, black wallet and key fob were tossed inside. Her hands were empty.

“Actually, I just needed a break from unpacking. And I wanted to see if my notice was still up.”

“Notice for what?”

“I’m a personal chef.”

His stance changed and he grinned. “I like anything personal.”

The big flirt. A real player, and not just at bat. Lucy held on to a frown. “It’s nothing like you’re thinking…whatever it was you were thinking.”

“I only said I like things personal.”

She opened her mouth to add something, then snapped it shut. If she had banter experience, she would have been more apt to have a fast comeback. As it was, she floundered, but quickly willed herself to regroup. “I cook for people in their homes.”

“I know what a personal chef is. Raul Nunez cooks for me sometimes.”

Lucy bit the inside of her lip. Who
didn’t
Raul cook for?

“Well, if you know of anyone who’d like my services, it would be great if you could mention my advertisement, which will be in this Wednesday’s newspaper, or the bulletin board here.”

His posture was casual, his fingers hooked loosely around the basket’s metal handle. “I can do that. What’s your specialty?”

The way he said it had her questioning his intentions. He was playing around with her now that the shark girlfriend wasn’t next to him! Lucy fought against rolling her eyes.

“I don’t have any one specialty,” she said, not taking his bait if he meant to lead her into any kind of sexual innuendo.

She was so rusty in this department, she wasn’t sure if she was coming or going. He knew the game and she didn’t have a clue to the rules. She didn’t like this.

He smiled and her heartbeat snagged. “Maybe I’ll have to tell Raul I’ve hired you.”

The prospect both excited and dismayed her. She needed the business, but… Working for this man would be a challenge at best. He was way too confident and laidback about his presence. He had to know good and well what effect he had on women. My goodness, she’d seen Opal practically jump out of her panty hose to please him with those biscuits.

A man like Drew got whatever he wanted. It was a given. He just had to smile and he received.

Lucy opted to let his suggestion go. If he were serious, he could give her a call.

“So are you divorced?” he asked, the question taking her by surprise. He didn’t stand on ceremony, and she wasn’t sure if she liked his approach or not.

“That obvious?”

“No wedding ring, but that doesn’t mean diddly these days.”

“Yes, I’m divorced. And you?” She hated that she asked, but the question was on the table before she could shelf it.

“Never married.”

Bad news. A man his age who’d never married wouldn’t know how to spell the word
compromise.

Perhaps his lack of matrimonial commitment was what caused that blank expression that suddenly appeared on his face. Maybe. Maybe not. But he did seem a little bothered by the status or, at the very least, self-conscious about it.

His broad shoulders captured her attention when he shifted his stance again. “How old are your sons?”

“Twelve and sixteen.”

“Tryouts for summer Little League will be at the Park and Rec field by Wood Creek.”

“I’ll have them there.” She’d always been an advocate of sports for her boys, and thankfully, they enjoyed participating. It kept them out of trouble, for the most part, and centered their focus on a team activity.

“If he makes the cut, I’ll be coaching Jason’s team.”

“He’ll make it.” Lucy’s conviction was steady. “He’s good.”

Drew nodded. “When he registers for school, make sure you get him on the high school team, too. We practice before the fall semester starts, so he’ll have to be there in August.”

“How could I find out more information?”

Drew set the basket on the end display of gourmet coffee, reached for his wallet, then handed her a card. “Give me a call.”

An indecisive arch lifted Lucy’s brows. She didn’t call men, but she guessed she’d have to make an exception. For the boys. Only for the boys.

The card was straightforward. Bold. Masculine. The type set blocky.

Andrew Tolman
Little League Coach and H.S. Athletic
Director
Wood Ridge Team and Red Duck
School District
P. O. Box 935
Timberline, Idaho 83691
Cell: 208-555-9452

“Call me anytime. I’ll make sure you’re sent the paperwork to have him play for Timberline High.” Drew tossed his wallet back into the basket, then added, “I’ll need your phone number.”

Lucy blurted, “What for?” Images of an indignant Jacquie Santini scratching her eyes out came into Lucy’s mind, yet for some idiotic reason, she lost her head and wished he wanted her phone number to ask her out on a date.
Stupid!

Drew gave her that crooked smile of his. “How can I refer clients to you if they can’t call you?”

Flustered, she changed her posture and took back control. She was being an idiot, and just as ridiculous as Opal and her fast breathing at the diner. Even knowing she’d momentarily lost her common sense, Lucy staved off an untimely blush.

She recited her cell number—which was a moot point. It was on her business card, which was on the grocery store bulletin board.

“Okay,” he replied.

“You don’t need to write it down?” She didn’t know why she asked him that. She told herself she wanted to make sure he got it right so she could get the referrals.

Biting back a groan, Lucy wanted to just crawl into one of the mussels and close the shell on herself. She was so out of practice in the art of male-and-female conversations, she called herself every kind of pathetic. Why was she letting this guy get to her? He was bad news.

“You think because I’m a jock I don’t have a memory?” he asked, but he did so with humor.

“Uh, no. I just…well, my memory’s not what it used to be the older I get. So I just…well, I’m sure you’ll remember it.”

“I’ll never forget it.”

The self-assured way in which he spoke evoked shivers through her that she prayed like crazy he wouldn’t notice.

“How old are you?” he asked, breaking through her musings.

Recovering, Lucy had no problem in this department. “Forty-five. And I’ve earned every wrinkle and dimple.”

And that was the God’s honest truth. She was proud of being forty-five, and actually, she thought she looked better at this age than when she’d been in her thirties. She was at a time in her life when she felt free enough to speak her mind, was secure enough in her looks not to apologize for anything a younger woman may have that she didn’t, and she was darn well a lot smarter.