That Runaway Summer (8 page)

“Not really.” Jill didn’t have plans in the traditional sense. “I’m just eager for some fresh air, is all.”

“We’ve had slow nights many a time and you usually offer to stay and close up,” Chuck pointed out. Darn the man. He was always complaining about how his memory had started to fail when he hit sixty, yet he was sharper than she was.

“You already said you’d close up tonight,” Jill said. “Might I remind you that you’re the one who told me to go home.”

“Didn’t expect you to accept so quick.”

“I don’t get home before midnight very often. I was thinking I could read a little before I went to sleep,” Jill said. “I’m in the middle of
All Creatures Great and Small,
and it’s hard to put down.”

“Isn’t that book about a vet?”

Jill made sure to take Chris to the library at least once a week, during which time she fed her own reading habit. She usually chose popular fiction, but this week she’d wandered the nonfiction aisles until the old classic had caught her interest.

“Yes,” she said. “A country vet in Yorkshire, England. The book was written almost forty years ago.”

“Interesting you’re reading about a vet.” Chuck grinned. “Would your hurry to get out of here have anything to do with Dan Maguire?”

“Of course not.” Jill felt heat rise to her face. Great. Now Chuck would never believe her.

“I heard you ate at that new pizza place with him last night,” Chuck said.

“We got takeout,” Jill corrected. “And it’s not what you think. Chris was waiting in the car with Tinkerbell and Bluebell.”

“Who the heck are Tinkerbell and Bluebell?”

“Dan’s pygmy goats.” Jill moved in a circular pattern while she answered, maneuvering her body so the bar owner was no longer between her and the exit. “Chris has taken a real shine to them. That’s why we were with Dan last night.”

Chuck winked broadly at her. “If you say so.”

“I do.” She ignored the wink as she backed away from him. Arguing with Chuck when he got something in his head never did any good. “I’ve got tomorrow night off, but I’ll see you Saturday.”

“Have fun,” he called after her.

The air outside had cooled with nightfall, one of the perks of living in Indigo Springs. Back in Atlanta, the nights were often as warm and as humid as the days.

She headed in the general direction of home, changing her usual route slightly so she’d pass by Dan’s house. They hadn’t arranged an assignation, as Chuck seemed to think. She simply wanted to thank Dan in person for the incredibly kind thing he’d done.

She’d searched for the right moment to offer her thanks last night, but it had never come. From the time Dan had purchased the second goat and they’d loaded the animals into his truck, the night had passed in a whirlwind of activity. They’d barely had time to scarf down the pizza.

But now here she was, on the street where Dan lived, with the goats presumably asleep, the same way her brother should be.

Dan’s house was a modest, one-story ranch with a neat lawn and decent curb appeal. The porch light shone like a beacon. The rest of the house was dark except for a glow coming from a room on the far left side.

Probably Dan’s bedroom.

She wondered if he slept in pajamas, boxer shorts or nothing at all. The night suddenly felt warmer.

“This was a bad idea, Jacobi,” Jill muttered to herself.

Of course Dan was getting ready to go to sleep. It was past eleven o’clock and the vet’s office opened by nine. If she rang his doorbell now, he’d think she was there for more than a thank-you.

She was under a streetlight, the worst place if Dan should happen to look out the window. She was about to cross to the opposite side of the street when she heard a motorized sound. Dan’s garage door opened slowly, revealing feet in slides, hair-sprinkled legs left bare beneath a pair of gym shorts, a lean torso covered by a T-shirt, then Dan’s handsome face.

The shorts and T-shirt instantly became tied with nothing at all in her speculation over what he wore to bed.

He started dragging a rubber trash can on wheels to the curb. Her feet felt as though they were stuck in wet cement. She got them loose and tried to jump back into the shadows.

“Jill?” he called. “Is that you?”

She grimaced. Her only choice was to step forward into the full glow of a streetlight. She affected a casual pose and a smile, as though she’d run into him in the full light of day. “Hey, Dan.”

“Hi, Jill.” He finished hauling the can to the curb, then walked toward her. Although Dan looked great in his work clothes, she preferred him this way. The man really did have a set of gorgeous legs. “What are you doing out here?”

That was easy enough to answer. “Walking home from the Blue Haven. I got off early tonight.”

“Isn’t this a few blocks out of your way?”

No use denying what anyone with a sense of direction could figure out. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

She shifted from foot to foot, listening to the cries of the cicadas reach a slow crescendo. He said nothing, waiting.

“Okay. You caught me,” she said. “I’m here because of you.”

The darkness enveloping them lent the situation an air of intimacy and her comments the heavy hint of suggestion. She chewed on her bottom lip. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“How do you think it sounded?” His gaze didn’t leave her face.

“Like I saw that light in your bedroom window and got ideas,” she said.

“Did you get ideas?”

Before Jill had plotted to go into hiding with Chris, she’d made it a point to tell the truth. She hated that circumstances had forced her to become a decent liar. Occasionally, however, the skill came in handy.

“I got the idea it was too late to bother you.” There. Technically that wasn’t even a lie. She’d simply neglected to tell him the entire truth.

“Bother me?” Was it her imagination or did his question have sexual undertones? “About what?”

Jill almost groaned. What was the matter with her that she read innuendo into the simplest of questions? She wanted to cry with the cicadas.

“About the goats,” she said. “I didn’t get a chance last night to properly thank you for the wonderful thing you did for Chris. I nearly called you a dozen times today, but this seemed like something I should say in person.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t do much.”

“You must be kidding me.” She took a step closer to him, remembering how he’d come to the rescue. “You’ve got two pygmy goats in your backyard.”

“I’m a vet,” he said. “I’m used to having animals around.”

“Maybe so. But if it weren’t for Chris, you wouldn’t have any goats.” She had to tilt her head to gaze up at him. “Let me reimburse you for what Bluebell cost. I can also chip in for their upkeep.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

“I promise you I won’t forgot this,” Jill said. “If you ever need a favor, all you have to do is let me know.”

“You don’t owe me anything. I like Chris.” He reached out and captured her hand. Warmth instantly spread through her. “I like his sister, too.”

Her throat suddenly felt parched. She swallowed, wondering why she was leaving her hand where it was.

“Tell you what, if you’re set on paying me back, come inside,” he invited. “I’ll open a bottle of wine and we can talk, get to know each other better.”

Panic flared inside her, and she shook her head. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Whoa,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. You can trust me, if that’s what you’re worried about. All I’m asking for is wine and conversation.”

She met his eyes, perfectly visible in the moonlight. She believed he wouldn’t push her to sleep with him, yet she
couldn’t
trust him. Not with any meaningful conversation. Not after she’d been burned twice by people she had faith in.

Her heart jerked and started. She wouldn’t talk of her past if she went inside the house with him. She was less sure of her resolve to stay out of his bed. How had this happened? How had she come by for such an innocent reason and gotten to this point?

“I can’t.” She cast about for a sensible excuse, but her brain felt scrambled with him touching her. She drew her hand away from his. “I’m guiding a white-water trip early tomorrow. I need my sleep.”

His lips quirked, his only sign of disappointment. “I bet it’s beautiful in the mornings on the river.”

Finally, a safe subject.

“The best time to kayak is before anyone is awake other than the herons and the eagles.” Her trip tomorrow morning was at ten, a fact she’d conveniently neglected to tell him, but she sometimes went on short sleep when she kayaked for pleasure. “The sky is almost achingly blue and it’s so quiet the rumble of the white water sounds like thunder.”

“Forget what I said about not calling in a favor.” His voice sounded soft and seductive in the darkness. “I just thought of one.”

Her muscles clenched while she marveled at how easily he’d resurrected the sexual tension between them.

“You can give me a kayak lesson,” he said.

She relaxed. “Are you serious?”

“Completely. You did say you owed me.”

“Then you’re on.” This was more like what she’d had in mind. She mentally went over her weekend schedule. She was guiding trips Friday and Saturday mornings, bartending Saturday and Sunday nights and taking naps in between. “I’m free Sunday morning if I skip my bike ride. Say, at seven. Would that work for you?”

“Perfectly,” he said.

She might have qualms about being alone with Dan in a darkened house, but surely she could handle him on a sunny river.

Introducing the dogs to his two newest pets, however, needed to become a priority. It had been a simple matter to keep the dogs out of the backyard that first night Tinkerbell had stayed in the shed. That wouldn’t work now that the goats had become permanent residents.

Dan needed to find out whether the dogs would welcome the newcomers or try to tear them apart.

He’d rescued Starsky and Hutch, who were in the same litter, from an animal shelter back in Ohio. They were mutts, a mix of breeds that almost certainly included some Doberman. Since goats were prey animals and Dobermans hunters, it was entirely possible the dogs would attack.

The proper way to begin acclimatizing the animals was while the dogs were leashed. He’d try that tactic soon, but not this morning. He started work in thirty minutes.

His cell phone rang. He snatched it off the kitchen counter and checked caller ID. His oldest sister, who called occasionally but irregularly. He immediately clicked on the phone.

“Karen? Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine.” She had a strong authoritative voice to go along with her personality. The firstborn of the four Maguire children, Karen had taken the role of the oldest to heart. Dan’s father used to call her the Little General. “Is that Starsky and Hutch I hear? How are they?”

“In need of obedience school,” he said.

She laughed. “How’s their owner?”

“I can’t complain.” Dan peered out the kitchen window to see the two pygmy goats romping around the yard. He checked the fencing, reassuring himself it was high enough to leave them outside during the day. “Listen, Karen, I’d love to talk but I’m due at work soon. Any specific reason you’re calling?”

“As a matter of fact, there is,” she said. “Nancy told me you’d sent in your RSVP.”

Now the call made sense. Their first cousin was planning a lavish wedding in late August at a local country club. She’d invited her entire family and all of the groom-to-be’s relatives, including the groom’s sister Maggie.

“I wish you’d change your mind about not coming,” she said. “Nancy feels the same. You don’t even have to call her. I’ll do it for you.”

Dan suppressed a sigh. “I’m not coming to the wedding, Karen.”

“It’s because of Maggie, isn’t it?” Karen asked. “The best revenge would be to come and show her you’ve gotten over her.”

He’d been striving to do exactly that for the past year.

“Just because I don’t want to see Maggie—” and her husband, he added silently “—doesn’t mean I’m pining for her.”

“It’ll seem that way to her,” she argued. “When are you going to realize she did you a favor?”

“She deceived me, Karen,” he said softly even though the logical part of his mind had reached the same conclusion. “She knew she was leaving for an entire month and didn’t say a word.”

“Exactly. What kind of life would you have with someone who could lie to your face like that?”

“Not much of a life,” Dan conceded.

“So when are you going to be ready to meet someone else?”

“Maybe I already have,” he said without thinking.

“You’re kidding! That’s great!” his sister exclaimed. He closed his eyes, wishing he could rewind the conversation, bracing himself for what was coming. “You can bring her to the wedding.”

“We barely know each other,” Dan said. “We haven’t even been—”

“You have almost two months to get better acquainted,” Karen interrupted before he could say they had yet to go on a date. She hardly took a breath between sentences. “What’s her name? How did you meet? What does she do for a living? Do you—?”

Raucous barking drowned out his sister’s next question. The noise wasn’t coming from the house but the yard. Dan’s eyes flew to the screen door, which was standing wide open. He should have known the flimsy lock wouldn’t hold with the dogs jumping against the door.

“I’ve gotta go, Karen.” He disconnected the call, dropped the phone and sprinted for the backyard. He was sickeningly aware he didn’t have a prayer of arriving before the dogs.

He thundered down the porch steps, his bare feet slapping on the hard surface. He hit the dew-sprinkled grass so fast he slipped and almost went down.

Then he stopped dead.

The two goats stood perfectly still in the middle of the yard. Starsky and Hutch circled them, sniffing at the air, their tails pointing skyward.

His stomach plummeted as Starsky advanced, targeting Tinkerbell, the smaller of the two goats.

Except something was off. The dog wasn’t approaching the goat’s hindquarters, the area most vulnerable to an attack. Starsky was going straight at her, aiming for her…snout?

The dog had no sooner nudged Tinkerbell than she butted him back, as good as she’d gotten. She bleated a loud, angry cry, then stared him down.

Starsky retreated, his tail between his legs. Hutch took a few steps backward. Dan could breathe again.

Saved by the dog-and-goat show, he thought, but it was only a temporary reprieve. His sister would call back. Sooner or later he’d have to admit he wasn’t dating anyone.

Unless, of course, the kayak lesson went according to plan.