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Authors: Teresa McCarthy

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BOOK: Almost Twilight
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Jeremy’s
eyes widened.

Fritz
pulled his cup of boiling water from the microwave and dipped in his tea bag. “I
know you’re not going to like what I have to say, because I gather from your
little escapade yesterday that you don’t care for doctors. Gall dang it, Candy,
I can’t believe that scumbag who hurt you was a doctor.”

Fritz’s
spoon clanked against his mug as he stirred in some honey. “But my Rafe, he’s
different. He’s needs a good woman. And knowing what a smart gal you are, you
can see that if you put two and two together that makes—”

“Four!”

Fritz
spun around, his spoon dropping to the floor with a clank. “What the blazes are
you doing here?”

Jeremy
lifted his shoulders and smiled. “I thought I’d keep you company since you’re
talking to your teacup.”

“I
was not talking to my teacup,” Fritz sputtered.

“Yes,
you were, Grandpa. It’s all right. Uncle Rafe told me that sometimes when
people get old, they talk to themselves.”

Fritz
scowled. “He told you that, did he? And I am not old!”

Jeremy
nodded as he grabbed a box of marshmallow sugar cereal, pouring it into his
bowl. “Uncle Rafe said that sometimes old people forget things, too.”

Fritz
eyed the candy-coated cereal. “Who in tarnation got you that? It makes you talk
silly.”

Jeremy
looked up, confused. “You bought this for me yesterday. Don’t you remember?”

Fritz
swallowed. “’Course, I did. Just checking. And I am not old! I’m not even
sixty! Well...I’m not even sixty-two!”

Fritz
poured some milk into his grandson’s bowl and sat down with a frown as he drank
his tea.

After
a few minutes of slurping, Jeremy looked up. “You know Grandpa, I was
thinking...”

“About
what?”

“About
how I would like to have Candy be one of my aunts. We talked about it before,
but nothing’s happening. None of our plans are working. You think you could
make something happen soon, like you made Dad marry Hannah? Because I really,
really like Candy a lot.”

Fritz
showed his first smile that morning. “If I do that, it’s gonna take a lot of
help. I got another plan brewing, and your Uncle Rafe will think twice before
he thinks people older than him have our heads on backwards.”

Jeremy
spooned the cereal into his mouth, munched, then flashed his grandfather a
crooked pair of teeth. “And you want me to help, right?”

“You
got it. You and me are going into business. We’re going to hitch your uncle and
Nurse Candy together, even if we have to hogtie them to the altar.”

“So,
who are we going to try to have her marry this time, Uncle Rafe or Uncle Max?”

“Dang
it, Rafe, of course. Thought I told you that before.”

Jeremy
nodded, pulling the bowl to his lips, and finishing off the leftover milk. “Yeah,”
he said between gulps, “that sounds good because Max is never home, and
besides, he scoops up horse poop at his ranch, and I don’t think Candy, being a
nurse and all, thinks that’s very clean work. You know, germs and stuff.”

Fritz
snorted. “Germs is the least of my worries.”

Jeremy
put an elbow on the table. “If we want to work fast, we have to do it before
Uncle Rafe goes on vacation.”

Fritz’s
head jerked up. “What’s that?”

“He’s
leaving soon and won’t be back for two weeks.”

“Is
that so? Funny thing, he ain’t one to tell his own father where he’s going.”

Jeremy
looked up from beneath sandy brows. “He doesn’t tell you Grandpa, because
you’re an old weasel.”

Fritz
choked on his tea. “I’m a what?”

“An
old weasel. Dad says so and so does Uncle Rafe. Always weaseling in on other people’s
business.”

“And
what about Max, what does he say?” Fritz asked with a sarcastic drawl.

Jeremy
looked up, slipping out of his seat. “I, uh, can’t tell you that, Grandpa.” 

Fritz’s
cup slammed onto the table. “Why in tarnation not?”

Jeremy
swallowed hard, running for the door. “Because Hannah might wash my mouth out
with soap.”

Chapter
Three

 

The
following day Rafe pulled his red Porsche up Main Street, squealing to a stop
in front of the old Banter House. Real estate agent Ed Riley had been waiting
for him. The seventy-year-old man was one of only five real estate agents in Clearbrook
Valley, and the only one the owner Larry Banter would work with.

Rafe
stepped onto the cracked sidewalk and took in the house with a sweeping glance.
“Looks like an accident waiting to happen, Ed.”

Ed’s
gray mustache twitched. “Didn’t say it was pretty, Doc. Just said it was for
sale.”

Rafe
didn’t remember the quaint, yellow house being in such disrepair. From where he
stood, he could see two broken windows, a bird’s nest in the gutter, and a
slanting front door frame, not to mention the sagging porch. It would take
months to get the place in order for what he had in mind. It would be better to
demolish the whole thing and start over with just the land. Yes, that’s what he
would do. Start over.

He
turned back to Ed. “I can give you the asking price. How’s that?”

“Don’t
know, Doc. Got another buyer on contingency. Larry didn’t think he’d get
another offer.”

“Ed,
if you brought me out here on a wild goose chase—”

Ed
shook his head. “Hey, Doc. You didn’t let me finish. You’ll have to push the
other buyer out with an offer of immediate sale. Not even sure the buyer can
make the down payment. Still, a contingency is a contingency. So, if you got
the money and can close as soon as possible, I think Larry will go for that.”

Rafe
figured that the other buyer could find another house to live in, and since
this land was so close to the hospital, it was the perfect place for his pet
project. He frowned at the yellow paint peeling off the wood exterior. He would
be doing the other buyer a favor.

“That’s
all?”

“That’s
it,” Ed said, tipping his head as he looked at the house. “Didn’t know you were
much of a fix-it type man, Doc.”

Rafe
wasn’t about to say he
was
a fix-it type man in another way, but the
fact would probably fly right by Ed. “I’ll beat any offer by five thousand
dollars, and I’ll give you cash as soon as Banter wants to close.”

 Ed
shook Rafe’s hand. “By golly, Doc, I don’t see old Larry refusing that. I think
we’ll have a deal. But I am a bit curious as to why you want this place. You
have that beautiful condo in the mountains, and well, this house ain’t a
castle.”

Rafe
stared at the dilapidated house, his mind racing with the possibilities of this
land. If his father hadn’t mentioned the fact that old geezer Banter had left Clearbrook
Valley to live with his daughter in California, Rafe would have never known the
old home was up for sale until it was too late.

Though
the house had been vacant for months, once Banter decided to sell, there hadn’t
even been a
For Sale
sign up on the lawn before someone else had put a
bid on the house.

Rafe
stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared at the crevice in the sidewalk. That
would have to be fixed, too.

“I’m
going to demolish the house and build a center for families of patients without
affordable accommodations. They’ll have a place to stay while their loved ones
are in the hospital.”

“Don’t
that beat all,” Ed replied with a grin. “You’re going to be a real hero around
these parts. More famous than your Daddy and those rodeo trophies of his.”

Ed
was referring to Fritz’s rodeo days. Though Fritz seemed a world apart from his
boys in education, he and Rafe’s late mother, a school teacher, had seen that
all three of their sons had attended college and obtained decent jobs.

But
Rafe grimaced at the prospect of people slapping him on the back for his part
in the family home. Keeping a certain distance from his patients was essential.
He didn’t want to be anyone’s hero. A hero never failed, and he knew that he
had failed too many times to count. He couldn’t even save his patients from
dying. And Tanner’s first wife was one of them. What kind of hero was that? 

“Not
a word, Ed. Not a single word to anyone about this. I’ll be financing the
entire deal under my new corporation, understand?”

“Gotcha,
Doc. No problem. Now, what is this I hear about you locking a patient in the
janitor’s closest?”

Rafe
took a moment to breathe, then stared at Ed. The gossips were everywhere. “Where
did you hear that?”

“Heard
it at Pete’s Deli this morning.”

“There
was no patient in the janitor’s closest, Ed.”

“Fritz
said there was.” 

Rafe
stiffened, too shocked to speak.

“But
then again,” Ed went on, “maybe he said you needed patience. My hearing’s been
going, you know.”

“My
Dad was at Pete’s Deli this morning? I can’t believe it.”

Ed
walked to his car and shrugged. “Hey, don’t want to get between you two. But
just for your information, I would stand clear of that closet stuff. You never
know what kind of harassment suits people are interested in these days. And
Doc, you got money people die for.” 

Ed
couldn’t stop laughing. “No pun intended, of course.”

“Of
course,” Rafe mumbled, wanting to strangle his father. “No pun intended.”

 

In
his condo later that evening, Rafe began packing for his trip to The Bahamas. Luckily,
his vacation had come in the nick of time. He needed to get away as soon as
possible, because when his father got something stuck in his mind, it was more
than dangerous. It was deadly to Rafe’s peace of mind. The man had been after
him for the past year to marry Candy Richards. It was insane.

And
look what had happened to Tanner. Their father had weaseled his way into
Tanner’s life, and poor old Tan had been married in a matter of months. Not
that Hannah wasn’t a good woman, but Rafe just wasn’t cut out for marriage.

Marriage.
The thought made his chest tighten. With a groan, he tried not to think about
Nurse Richards. But if there were two people that drove him crazy, they were
that little spitfire nurse and his father Fritz.

Earlier
this month Candy Richards had snubbed him as if he had a case of typhoid. What
did he care anyway? He could date any other single woman in the hospital
without any type of commitment, and he liked it that way.

But his
father wouldn’t stop talking about wives and life with a good woman. Rafe
didn’t need that. He had his job and his patients. That was enough.

The
weak moment when he had asked Candy out to dinner was something he tried to shove
to the back of his mind, but it wasn’t working.

Throwing
a pair of leather sandals into his suitcase, Rafe vividly recalled a set of
dainty ankles that made his mouth go dry.

When
Candy Richards had fallen off that roof, his heart had stopped cold. Though she
hadn’t known it, he had said a quick prayer before he’d caught her. Thankfully,
she had been all right.

He
slapped some sunscreen into his suitcase and mumbled to himself. She was the
kind of woman who would have him thinking about commitment if he weren’t
careful.

No sir.
Get a hold of yourself, Rafe. You are not about to ask that doe-eyed spitfire
out for another date, not after she flat out refused you.

If
there was one thing he knew, it was that everybody had to die sometime. His own
heart lost a little blood each time one of his patients died, and that’s why he
tried not to form attachments like Candy Richards did. He’d known the lady for
almost two years. The woman meant well, but her heart wouldn’t survive if she
got close to every patient.

And
Rafe wasn’t about to get close to her. Nope. Marriage and commitment were not
for him. He may have flirted with her, and the sparks did fly when they were
together, but his father and Tanner had gone through enough pain when their
wives had died. Rafe was not going to have that happen to him. Dying patients
were enough.

 

That
same evening Candy sat in the Clearbrook kitchen, her mouth dropping open in
surprise at Fritz’s generous offer.

“You
take this and have yourself a real vacation,” Fritz insisted, shoving the
airline ticket into her hand.

Candy
blinked. “I can’t accept this. It’s too much.”

Fritz
snorted as he turned back to scramble the eggs in the frying pan. The Clearbrook
cook Mable was off for a week, and Fritz had taken over dinner.

“It
ain’t enough if you ask me.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I couldn’t go, so I
had that lady at the travel agency change the ticket from my name to yours. But
she made a mistake and got coach instead of first class. Anyway, since old lady
Hayden cancelled on you, you got two weeks free. So take your regular paid
vacation and relax. You can still make that down payment. You already went over
the figures with me.”

BOOK: Almost Twilight
10.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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