Summer Rose (10 page)

But what really caught Hunter’s attention was the way Rose’s face lit up when she spoke about her friend. Her eyes sparkled and took on a life that, until now, he hadn’t realized had been missing from her expression. He already knew Rose was beautiful, but now, a brilliant radiance shined through. Even though he wished he’d been the reason for this change in her and not her friend, he wanted that look to never go away. If talking about Beth put it there, then perhaps more talk of her could keep it there.

“So, tell me more about Beth.”

She stiffened, then avoiding his gaze, began hastily clearing away the leftovers from their lunch. “There’s really not much to tell.”

“You said she used to live in the Johnson house on the edge of town. I grew up here, and I can’t recall her at all.” He set his soda can on the desk. “How old was she?”

“About my age. Are you finished with your sandwich?”

He rolled up the end of his sub in the paper it had come in and handed it to her. “Did she live there long?”

“She never said.” She held up the remains of a dill spear. “Do you want your pickle?”

He shook his head. “Does she have any relatives in the area?

She shrugged. “Hand me your napkin.”

Hunter gave her the napkin, and she crumpled it and threw it in the wastepaper basket.

“Did you inquire to see?”

She shook her head.

What had started out as a casual conversation had now caught Hunter’s interest. It had become obvious to Hunter from her clipped responses that Rose was being evasive. Why? And what was she hiding?

“Rose, why—”

“Are you done with your soda?” She reached for the can.

Hunter rescued it just in time to keep it from being thrown in the trash.

It suddenly occurred to him that he’d been asking question that were really none of his business. It’s no wonder she had shut down. Since she didn’t want to talk about Beth, he’d let it drop, but not before he apologized. “I’m sorry if it sounded like I was prying. I didn’t mean to.” When she didn’t answer, he prodded her. “Rose?”

Please, just let it go!
She didn’t want to talk about Beth. Not because she didn’t miss her friend every day, but because talking about Beth brought to mind the secret she was carrying under her heart, a secret she hadn’t shared with Hunter. A secret that in a few weeks would begin to become very apparent, leaving her with one choice . . . to tell him.

Desperate to bring a halt to his questions, she checked her watch. “Mrs. Wright is due any minute with her cat Fluffy. I need to get her file out before she gets here, and I’m sure you have things to do in the back to get ready.” She stood, went to the filing cabinet, pulled open the drawer and began rifling through the folders ostensibly looking for Mrs. Wright’s file.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Hunter get to his feet, but he paused. For a long moment he studied her, and then finally, he went into the backroom.

Rose breathed a deep sigh and collapsed into her desk chair.
Nice going, Rose. Now all you’ve done is make him more curious. You should have just answered his questions. He doesn’t know about the babies and talking about Beth wasn’t going to let your secret out.

A thought suddenly struck her. Exactly why was she keeping her pregnancy a secret from Hunter anyway? In the beginning it was because she’d been afraid he wouldn’t hire an expectant mother, but she’d more than proved her worth to him as an employee. After that, there just never seemed a good time to introduce the subject. Or so she’d told herself. In actuality, she’d had several opportunities to tell him.

But she had continued to keep her silence. Why? It wasn’t as if being pregnant would inhibit her from doing her job. So what was it? Could it be that the prospect of him finding out about the babies would negate any chance of Hunter seeing her as more than just an employee? Or could it be something more? Had she done the very thing she’d been telling herself not to do? Had she fallen in love with the one man who would never want to get involved with her because starting a relationship with her meant taking on the responsibility of a ready-made family?

Since yesterday over lunch, when Hunter had started quizzing her about Beth, Rose had thought a lot about her reasoning for not telling Hunter about the babies. Since there was no hope of ever having a relationship with him, and she had nothing but her job and a free apartment to lose, and she didn’t believe either of those possibilities would come to pass, she’d finally made up her mind. Keeping the existence of the twins from him was just getting too hard and certainly would not get any easier as time went on. Today would be the day she divulged her secret and let the chips fall where they may. Better she tell him now than wait until he found out by accident or when she started to show and had to tell him.

And if she did lose her job, there were always other jobs. And if she couldn’t find another position and though it went against everything in her to do so, she could always go on public assistance until she did. Although she’d really come to love working with animals, having Davy around and interacting with the people of Carson . . . with the exception of the community’s mayor.

However, never seeing Hunter, even though she knew nothing could come of it, would be the hardest part of leaving. Even an idiot knew what the bottomless feeling that attacked her tummy whenever he walked into a room or the way her heart raced at his touch meant. She’d done exactly what she’d cautioned herself against. She’d fallen in love with Hunter Mackenzie.

How could she not have? He was everything any woman could want: kind, gentle, a good listener, a friend, and a darn good cook. In short, he was too good to be true.

Just her luck. All her life Rose had been too late for one thing or another. She’d been born the week after her father had walked out on her mother. As a result, she never knew the man who helped give her life. She’d come home from school mere hours after her mother had run out on her, leaving her to face the social service people and a parade of foster homes alone, frightened and confused.

This was one time she would get the jump on Fate. She’d tell Hunter about the twins and do it right now.

Determined, she clicked the answering machine on, then pushed her chair back from the desk and marched into the backroom. “Hunter, I need to speak to you about . . .” The room was empty.

Odd. She hadn’t seen him come through the front. She checked behind the cages and in the storeroom, but both were empty.

Then she noticed the back door wide open. She stepped through it into the yard Hunter used to exercise the dogs that required a prolonged stay at the clinic. Seated at the picnic table on the far side of the yard was Hunter, his gaze fastened on Hawks Mountain in the distance. As she grew closer, she realized he probably didn’t see the lush green peaks, but instead was deep in thought.

“Hunter?”

He jumped and then blinked as if bringing his thoughts back to the here and now. “Rose.” He said her name almost vacantly. Then he blinked again. This time his eyes seemed more focused. “Do I have an appointment waiting?”

The discussion she’d planned to have with him fled from her mind. She sat next to him. “No. You don’t have another until Grace Raymond brings in her little Pekinese for her checkup.” She sat next to him and laid a hand on his arm. “Is there something wrong?’

He laughed without humor. “Not a thing unless you count the fact that any moment now George could lower the boom and get his dearest wish in the world . . . closing the wildlife refuge.” He ran his hand through his tousled brown hair. From the unkempt look of it, that hadn’t been the first time he’d done that today.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Again that humorless laugh. “I’m not sure talking will solve anything.” He shook his head and sighed, an empty, helpless sound. “George is determined to close the refuge down. I don’t know what to do, short of getting rid of the animals, and I refuse to do that.”

Rose’s heart twisted. Everything in her wanted to solve his problem and remove the worry lines from his face, but like Hunter, she had no answers. “Maybe he’ll give up from the sheer exhaustion of fighting you.” Even as she said the words, they sounded futile.

Hunter forced a smile. “Thanks, but George isn’t the giving-up type. Unfortunately, I know him all too well. He’s like a hound on the scent of a fox. He’ll keep at it until he succeeds.”

The pain in Hunter’s voice seeped into Rose. She choked back the emotion threatening to fill her throat. No reminders were needed for her to understand how much Hunter loved this business and the animals he cared for, wild and domestic. It would devastate him to lose them.

The kind of determination she’d called on to survive in foster care blossomed inside her. She couldn’t . . . no,
wouldn’t
let that arrogant windbag take away one of the most important things in Hunter’s life. George Collins may be determined, but he’d never come up against Rose Hamilton at her best.

She squeezed Hunter’s fingers. “Then we’ll make sure he doesn’t succeed. We’ll just have to put our heads together and beat him at his own game.”

The determination filling her voice must have registered with Hunter. When he turned to look at her, some of the worry that had marked his face with deep frown lines had eased.

“What did I ever do to deserve you in my life?”

But I’m not in your life, not really, not like I’d love to be.

Then he cupped her cheek in his hand. For a long moment, their gazes locked. All thought of their dilemma and the animals vanished from her mind. An uncontrollable eddy of emotions sucked her into a vortex of sudden desire. Her gaze shifted to his mouth. Unbidden thoughts accosted her. If he kissed her, would she be able to stop him . . . or herself? Would she want to?

Though Rose knew no good could come of this, she was helpless to stop the yearning growing inside her for Hunter’s kiss. She tilted her head back and gazed into is eyes.

As if sucked down by a wave’s undertow, Hunter became lost in her blue eyes.
My God, she is so beautiful, so absolutely beautiful.
He leaned toward her, anticipating the feel of her lips against his. Her warm, sweet breath brushed across his face, heightening the desire rising in him. He wanted to kiss her. He
had
to kiss her.

Very slowly he closed the distance between them. Then it happened . . . her mouth touched his. Lightly at first, like the caress of a butterfly’s wing, so soft it almost wasn’t there.

He slid closer to her and pulled her to him. Without conscious thought, he intensified the kiss, silently voicing all the frustration of weeks of keeping his distance from her. Her female curves melded with his masculine angles as if she’d been fashion for him and only him.

He was half aware that her arms now encircled his neck, pulling his mouth down harder on hers. He’d fallen into a pool of heated sensuality, and it was rapidly closing over his head, blocking out rationality. Soft, incoherent moans emanated from her.

He knew he should pull away, stop it before they passed the point of no return. But he couldn’t. Now that he had her in his arms, he never wanted to let her go.

Honk! Honk!

Vaguely, in the back of his mind he heard the noise, but the cloud of sensuality that had enveloped him wouldn’t let it register. Something told him he needed to listen, but something even stronger told him not to release Rose because this might never happen again. He tightened his grip.

Honk! Honk!

This time the strident blast of a horn broke through the sensual stupor. Both of them jumped back, as though they’d been caught necking under the athletic field bleachers by the school principal. Dazed, Hunter sprang to his feet and quickly climbed over the picnic table bench.

Honk! Honk!

The horn blasted again. He looked toward the front of the building and could make out just the front of the semi that delivered the feed once a week.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and with one wistful glance at Rose, he walked quickly toward the back door, leaving Rose sitting on the bench looking as bewildered as he felt.

Hunter ground the ancient truck’s
transmission into second gear, let out the clutch, then stepped down hard on the gas. “Come on, Bessie. You can do it.”

With his coaching, the truck’s engine whined, but it took the hill with little trouble. The truck may have been old, but he’d had it since he’d opened his veterinary practice, and, with his gentle care, it was in pretty good shape. Having become attached to it, Hunter refused to replace it until it fell apart around him. After shifting into third gear, he tried to concentrate on the landscape around him. Anything was better than thinking about the kiss he’d shared with Rose hours before.

But it was no use. His blood still sang through his veins with the memory. God, but she’d tasted so good and felt so good against him. How would he ever function with her there every day reminding him that he wanted more, much more of Rose Hamilton?

But you can’t have more
, his conscience reminded him.
Not without all the responsibilities that go with a relationship.

And getting involved with Rose would not be a simple matter of dates and perhaps a little sex thrown in. He felt it in his bones that casual affairs were not her thing. Oddly, when he thought about Rose, what really scared him was that a casual affair didn’t appeal to him either.

What really scared the bejesus out of him was that sometimes he’d lie in bed at night and think about her. Then other insane thoughts would sneak into his mind, things like a little house with a picket fence, much like the one Beth had described to Rose.

The thought of Beth’s house gave him an idea. Ever since he’d left Sam Watkins’ farm, he’d been dreading coming face-to-face with Rose again. Not because he wasn’t longing to see her. He just needed time. Time to think this out. Time to figure out what to do about the crazy feelings he’d been experiencing since the kiss they’d shared. He decided to take the long way home, past the Johnson house.

Ever since Rose had told him about it, it had been niggling at the back of his mind. The more he thought about Rose’s description of the place, the more certain he’d been that no such home existed. At least not the way Beth had described it to Rose. This was the perfect opportunity to put his mind at ease, not to mention the perfect excuse not to go back to the office. Following his impulsive change of mind, he swung the truck in a wide U-turn and headed back toward the road that led past the house.

A few minutes later, he rounded a sharp curve and the road leveled off before making the dip that connected Santee Ridge Road with the main road into Carson. He turned onto the road and almost at once a house came into view. Or at least what was left of a house.

Hunter pulled his pickup into the weed-infested driveway and came to a stop. For a long time he sat in the truck staring at the place. The siding had passed the point of needing paint a long time ago. Two remaining shutters hung by a single hinge from the window frame and several more had been piled haphazardly against the house. Grass and weeds choked out most of the driveway and nearly hid the house, and large patches of missing shingles dotted the roof. If roses had ever grown in this yard, they’d long since seen their last days.

He turned to the mailbox peeking out from the tall stand of weeds near the road, barely visible letters scrawled across its side. The only letter still decipherable was an L. He struggled to recall what Rose had said Beth’s last name was.

Lawson? Logan? Lawman? Lawrence? Yes, Lawrence.

Suddenly a memory accosted him. A memory that he’d tucked away as unimportant at the time. It had been two days before Halloween, and he’d been driving by with a bunch of his teenaged friends. He’d seen a dirty little girl in a ragged dress sitting in the front yard digging in a pile of dirt with a spoon and putting the dirt in a tin can. He remembered wondering what she was doing out there in her bare feet and with no coat in October.