Sam shivered as he tromped through the snow in his knee-high boots. The storm had tapered off to a light flurry. Nine inches of pristine snow made the night air seem almost as bright as midday. Long shards of ice crystals hung from bare tree branches. The only sound was the crunch of his footsteps. Mother Nature’s beauty never ceased to astonish him.
Lovely and treacherous, just like a woman.
This small town was no place for a beautiful young woman like Rachel Walker. She could find a better future in a city somewhere.
Sam snorted. She denied receiving any money from her grandmother’s estate, but he found that hard to believe. He couldn’t help wondering how Rachel had gone through so much money so fast.
He tried to shake off his uncertainty as he kicked the snow off his boots and stepped into the reception area of his clinic. Even though she was a stranger, he couldn’t explain his desire to help Rachel. He should keep some distance from her and her son. Yet, their desperation pulled at his heartstrings. The last thing he needed was another shallow, beautiful woman messing up his calm, solitary life. Loving Melanie had brought him enough pain. And in the end, he’d destroyed whatever happiness they might have shared.
Rachel had no car, very few possessions, and a small son to support. When Sheriff Lloyd looked through her purse for some ID, he’d found her billfold. It consisted of exactly one thousand six hundred and two dollars and eighty-nine cents. No cell phone. No credit cards. No checkbook. Her funds wouldn’t buy her a decent car or groceries for very long.
The Duarte place seemed pretty run-down since Frank died some years ago. The possible repairs needed to the pipes and wiring could take every cent Rachel had in her purse.
And how would she get back and forth between her house and town without a car? In this frigid weather, she and the boy couldn’t walk. She’d be all alone out there without a phone or anyone to help with heavy projects. She wasn’t strong, he could see that from the size of her shapely arms. And those scars! Although old, he recognized a dog bite when he saw one. Rachel had been attacked, probably using her arms to shield her face until help arrived. Sam could only imagine the internal scars such an experience like that would leave on her mentally. He’d seen her reaction to the animals in his clinic. She didn’t say so, but he sensed she had a phobia for canines.
Shaking his head, he walked to the back room and stared at the uncomfortable cot. After he shed his coat, hat and boots, he sat down and reached for the alarm clock sitting close by. He set it for six a.m., one hour away, then wriggled his toes. One poked through a hole in his woolen sock. He’d mend it later, when he finally washed his piles of laundry.
Even Gladys finally stopped telling him he should get a wife of his own. He’d dated quite a bit during veterinarian school, but after Melanie, his heart never took flight again. His career became more important.
Until now.
“Ah, you fool,” he castigated himself.
He’d just met Rachel Walker. She needed help. That was why he couldn’t get her off his mind. Kind of like feeding and becoming attached to a stray cat. It had nothing to do with her clear blue eyes filled with worry for her son, or the way she’d cried while she was unconscious. From the few things she’d mumbled, he knew her husband’s name was Alex and she still mourned the man’s death. But he couldn’t get involved. Her problems weren’t his business.
As he lay back on the cot, he folded his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling. His nose crinkled, catching Rachel’s clean, floral scent.
It felt good to be needed by Gladys and Charlie. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to keep them safe. He’d accepted his fate as a confirmed bachelor, but he never liked it. He’d been born a family man and never accepted the empty hole in his heart. Except for Gladys and Charlie, he’d been alone most of his life. Even God had abandoned him after he lost Melanie.
For some reason, Rachel Walker dredged this up in his mind. The longing. The regrets.
He yearned for someone to shower his love upon. Someone all his own who loved him in return. No matter how full his life got, he’d never get used to the emptiness in his heart.
Or the loneliness.
Chapter Three
Rachel awoke to the smell of bacon frying. She opened her eyes, blinking at the bright sunlight filtering through the lacey curtains in Gladys’s living room. The snow had stopped.
Turning her head, Rachel saw Danny and another boy she assumed was Charlie sitting together in the recliner next to the Hide-A-Bed. The boys giggled, their legs dangling over the seat as they stared at her.
“See? I told you she’d wake up soon,” Danny told the other boy.
She smiled, unable to resist the merry twinkle in Charlie’s eyes. “Good morning, boys. How are you?”
“Fine,” Danny responded.
“You slept in.” Charlie’s freckled nose crinkled.
Rachel stretched, finding her body stiff and sore from the accident. Thinking about her crumpled car made her groan. “What time is it?”
Charlie shrugged, raking his short fingers through the unruly mop of red hair falling over his brow. “I don’t know.”
Danny glanced at the cartoon character watch Alex gave him for his sixth birthday. “Almost eleven o’clock.”
Wow! She had slept in, but they’d gone to bed so late.
“Good morning! Are you hungry?” Gladys called from the doorway of the kitchen. She wore her long chestnut hair curled and loose around her shoulders. Dressed in a red checkered apron, she clutched a plastic spatula in one hand.
Rachel sat up and slid her bare feet to the hardwood floor. Still dressed in the nightgown and bathrobe Gladys gave her the night before, she barely felt the cold in the snug house. “I am hungry, actually.”
“I laid out clean towels in the bathroom. Sam brought your bags in before he left.” Gladys pointed the spatula to where Rachel and Danny’s blue suitcases sat near the Hide-A-Bed.
“Where did he go?”
“He drove out to his place early this morning, to feed and water his livestock.”
“He was able to drive through the snow to Finnegan’s Valley?”
Maybe he’d give her and Danny a ride out to Grammy’s place. She hated to impose, but she had few options.
“Sure! A country doctor knows how to get around any impediment. His truck has 4-wheel drive with a plow blade attached to the front fender. If he gets stuck, there’s a snowmobile and an extra can of gasoline in the back.”
Hmm, impressive. Rachel stood and hugged Danny, breathing in his warm, sweet skin. She gave silent thanks they were safe. When she thought of what could have happened last night, she almost shuddered.
She didn’t recognize Danny’s pajamas and thought he must have borrowed them from Charlie. Both boys wore animal slippers, Charlie’s brown with floppy-eared dogs on the insteps, Danny’s yellow with ducks that squeaked when he walked. She reached to tickle the boys’ ribs with her good hand. Both of them squealed and scrambled away.
Charlie raced to the television set and flipped it on. “Hooray! Now your mom’s awake, we can watch cartoons.”
Both boys plopped down on a love seat and shared a red afghan for warmth. Charlie worked the remote control, flipping through channels.
Rachel watched her son, who seemed to accept their predicament quite well. In spite of the accident, it lightened her heart to see him so happy.
“While I finish making breakfast, why don’t you get ready? Sam should be back any time now,” Gladys told Rachel.
This