Knocking at Her Heart (Conover Circle #1) (10 page)

Maddie shook her head. “You don’t
have to do this, Sam.”

Her father picked up his
suitcase. “I’m not sleeping in the park, Madelyn.”

“I know that. You could sleep
down here, in the daycare.”

“Oh no. I’m not staying in the
same house with that woman.”

“
That woman?
” Maddie
repeated. “Haven’t you been married to that woman for the last thirty-some
years?”

“She’s painting me as the
villain, but there are two sides to every story.”

Maddie looked too tired to listen
to either side tonight. Sam opened the front door and motioned for Maddie’s
father to follow him. “Sir,” he said, with more respect than he felt. 

When they reached the curb, Peter
Sinclair pointed at a dark sedan. “That’s my rental. Where’s your car?”

Sam notched his head toward the
hospital. “Over there.”

Maddie’s father frowned. “Why?”

“I work there.”

“I thought you worked for my
daughter,”

Sam shook his head. “I’m an
orthopedic surgeon.”

Mr. Sinclair put down his
suitcase. “I don’t think so.”

Jesus. Maddie should have told
him her father had a screw loose. “Well, tomorrow, I’ll be happy to show you my
diploma and my license, too. Tonight, can we just go home and get some sleep?”

“My daughter would not have been
necking on the stairs with an orthopedic surgeon.”

Necking? Did anybody really say
that word anymore?

“My daughter,” Mr. Sinclair went
on, “wouldn’t give an orthopedic surgeon or any physician for that matter, the
time of day.”

Lord, he felt as tired as Maddie
had looked. Oddly enough, he thought Mr. Sinclair suddenly looked a little more
haggard, too.

“You know what she told me once?”
the man continued.

Sam shook his head.

“She said she’d never date a
physician. It would be too much like dating me.”

Not much to say to that. “It’s
none of my business, Sir.”

“Please, just Peter is fine.”

When he’d been the
lackey-who-does-odd-jobs, Sir or Mr. Sinclair had been fine. Now that the man
knew he was a doc, it was Peter. It would be kind of easy to dislike Peter
Sinclair.

“Now, thanks to whatever her
mother has told her, she undoubtedly thinks even more poorly of me.”

The man turned to stare at the
big Victorian.

Sam couldn’t excuse what the man
had done but still, something pulled at his gut. The man looked defeated. When
he turned back, Sam caught the sheen of a tear in the older man’s eyes.

“She really hates me,” the man
said, looking every one of his years.

“Well, tomorrow, maybe the two of
you can start sorting that out.”

*

When Maddie got upstairs, her
mother was sitting on the couch. “Is he gone?” she asked.

Maddie nodded and sank into the
chair. Snowball jumped up into her lap. “Yes. He’s staying at Sam’s house.”

Her mother shrugged, like it made
no difference to her.

“I guess I would have anticipated
that you’d be happy that Father is here,” Maddie said. “The two of you need to
talk.”

Her mother shrugged again. “I was
surprised when Carol told me that you’d gone off with Sam,” she said, changing
the subject.

“I didn’t go off with Sam. He
drove me home. He was…probably just coming this way.”

“There’s something about Sam that
doesn’t seem quite right,” Frances said. “But I just can’t put my finger on
it.”

“He’s an orthopedic surgeon,”
Maddie said, watching her mother’s face closely.

Frances scrunched up her face.
“Why is he working at your daycare?”

“He’s just helping out for a few
days. Making sure that his niece is in a safe environment.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before
this?” her mother asked, looking confused.

That irritated the hell out of
Maddie. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.
There’s nothing between Sam and me.”

Well, a few kisses and some heavy
tongue action, but that was it. 

Her mother let out a big sigh.
“That’s probably best.”

Of all the comments her mother
might have made, that was the one Maddie hadn’t expected. Shortly after she’d
announced that she was majoring in education rather than science, her mother
had started inviting young, single doctors over for dinner. Inevitably, at the
end of the evening, the guy would ask for another date. She’d turn them down.
Her mother would be pissed for days and then the cycle would start again.

Maddie stood up and towered over
her mother. “When it became clear that I wasn’t going to be a doctor, you tried
to marry me off to one.”

“Your father and I were only
trying to help.”

She wasn’t sure about her
father’s role. He’d been happy enough to talk shop over some baked chicken but
she wasn’t convinced he and her mother shared the same mission. He was just
letting Frances do what Frances did. Like he always did.

“Yeah. Well, here’s a news flash,
Mother. You wanted me to have
your
life. I didn’t want it then, and I
don’t want it now.”

It should have made her feel
better to say the words. She’d been yearning to say them for years. But when
her mother’s eyes filled with tears, she felt like crap.

“Mom. I’m sorry.” She sank down
next to her mother and reached for her hand. “I didn’t mean that.”

Her mother shook her head as the
first tears rolled down her carefully made-up face. “It’s all right, Madelyn. I
don’t blame you for saying that. I don’t even want my life, why should you?”

Oh, jeez. “You and Father will
work this out. You just have to try. Maybe go to a counselor.”

Frances Sinclair drew up and,
despite the red, spiked hair, looked very much like the mother she knew. “I am
not going to go pour my heart out to some stranger.”

“You need to talk to someone.”

“I am. I’m talking to my
daughter.”

Maddie let her head loll back,
until it hit the couch. Oh boy. She and her mother were both in trouble.

On Saturday morning, Tom sat in
Percy Monaghan’s law office and watched the older man stir two lumps of sugar
into his coffee, so carefully and deliberately that his spoon didn’t even click
against the side of the cup.  Percy and Tom’s older brother had been
friends in high school and according to his brother, Percy had cheated his way
through his advanced calculus class. When he’d gotten accepted into law school,
he could recall his parents making jokes that Percy had selected the absolute
perfect profession.

He’d returned to Conover after passing
the bar and like any small-town lawyer, had done his fair share of divorces,
real estate transactions, and wills.

“Thanks for seeing me on short
notice,” Tom said. “Did you get any response from your last letter to Maddie
Sinclair?”

Percy settled back on the plaid
couch and braced his wingtips on the edge of the glass coffee-table. “No. But
interestingly enough, I overheard Travis Muldoon at the gas station this
morning. He mentioned she recently had surgery.”

“He’s right. An appendectomy,”
Tom confided. “But I’ll deny I ever said that. HIPAA and all that, you know.
Anyway, absolutely nothing that should interfere with her ability to sign a few
papers.”

Percy picked up his cup and
sipped. “I’m not sure that’s going to happen.”

“We need that property,” Tom
said. “I think it’s time to turn up the heat.” When he’d talked to Sam the
previous night, he hadn’t walked away with any confidence that Sam was making
progress. Of course, he had taken the woman home from the bowling alley. Maybe
he was gaining her confidence. But maybe not.

Tom didn’t like the odds. He
stood up, inpatient with Maddie Sinclair’s willingness to look a gift horse in
the mouth. “Our offers,” he said, emphasizing the plural, “have all been fair.”

“Agree,” Percy said. “But I don’t
think she wants to sell.”

“I had one of those old houses
once. Had all kinds of problems. Bad plumbing, mice, leaky roof,” Tom added.

“Her property looks to be in
pretty good shape. Isn’t that part of the reason you want it?”

Tom sat his coffee cup down hard
on the glass table. “Our surgery center will be nice, too. And if we don’t get
this deal firmed up soon, we’re going to lose our investors. You need to close
this deal for us, Percy.”

“What are you saying, Tom?”

“I think you know what I’m
saying. We need you to help make home ownership a little painful.” 

“I’m not sure I understand,”
Percy said, his eyes looking interested.

Tom stood up. “Our families go
back a long way, Percy. I know you can make this happen. Sweeten the offer if
you have to and tighten the screws. Just get her convinced. If you do, there’s
another twenty grand for you.”

Percy leaned back against the
couch. “An additional twenty grand, huh? That’s a lot of money.”

“I’m good for it.”

Percy smiled. “I know
that.”  He stood up, reached for his cane, and tapped it against the
finely-waxed wood floor. “Fine. I’ll turn up the heat. In another couple weeks,
she’ll be begging me to take that property off her hands.”  

*

At nine o’clock, after grabbing a
quick shower and a bowl of cereal, Sam motioned for Peter Sinclair, who was
sitting at the kitchen table, a cell phone to his ear, to turn the lock on the
door when he left.

Jean was already gone because
Kelsie’s swim lesson started at eight. Late the previous night, Sam had filled
her in on Peter Sinclair and had promised that the man wouldn’t be around too
long.

Sam had exactly seven hours
available before the Bid on a Bachelor event and he had twelve hours of work to
stuff into it. When he pulled his car into the lot, Tom was just getting out of
his car. The shine on the vintage 1969 ‘Vet almost blinded Sam. “Morning,” Sam
said.

“Hey, did you get lucky last
night?” Tom asked.

“Lucky?”

“Yeah. You did take Maddie home
from the bowling alley, didn’t you?”

Sam started walking toward the
building.

Tom skipped to catch up. “So? How
was it?”

Sam opened the office door and
held it for his friend. “There was no
it
.” He knew he sounded harsh but
this was exactly what he’d hoped to avoid. He did not want Tom badgering him
about every conversation he had or didn’t have with Maddie.

“What’s your problem?” Tom asked.

“I don’t have a problem. Look,
I’m busy. Okay?”

Tom shrugged. “Yeah, well, I
guess I’ll see you at four.”

“Tom,” Sam said. He didn’t want
there to be tension between the two of them. He respected Tom’s ability as a
surgeon and he would always be grateful for the opportunity that Tom and Donald
had given him.

Tom walked toward his own office.
Over his shoulder, he said “Can hardly wait to see Chantal in action.”

Sam didn’t answer. Just stood in
the hallway and watched his friend shut his office door. Then he went into his
own office, closing the door behind him.

He didn’t want Chantal to win the
bid. But if she did, he’d be hers until midnight. Kind of like Cinderella.
Except that Cinderella had really wanted to go to the ball and she’d been kind
of looking for a prince. He really wanted to stay home, with a cold six-pack
and a pizza, and he’d thought he’d found his princess years ago.

And then the fairy tale had ended
badly. She’d gone for the king instead.

His cell phone rang. “Sam
Jordonson,” he answered.

“Uncle Sam,” Kelsie screeched.
“Mommy and I are going to the farm. Can you come with us?”

He held the phone away from his
ear. “Morning, Kelsie. Does your mom know you’re on the telephone?”

“Yup. She’s the one who told me
to call. To see if you could come, too. We’re leaving in an hour and we’re
spending the night.”

“Oh, sweetie. I’d like to. I
really would. But I can’t. Let me talk to your mom, okay?”

“Okay. Don’t worry. I’ll kiss the
cows for you.”

“You do that, darling.”

“Do what?” Jean asked, replacing
Kelsie’s voice on the phone.

“Your daughter’s going to kiss a
cow for me.”

“Better her than me.”

She sounded like it was one of
her good days. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“Great. Steady.”

He could almost hear her smile,
and it made everything else seem not all that important. She’d been the oldest,
the responsible one. The one who’d made sure there was dinner on the table when
his mom was working at night. It hadn’t been fancy but it had been food. She’d
been the one who’d made sure he did his homework, made sure he came home after
school.

He owed her. He was going to make
sure that she and Kelsie never had to worry about money, about having a place to
live, about being safe.  

“And since this is the first
really warm spring day we’ve had, we’re going to the farm,” she said. “Come
with us. Amy and John would love to have you. Can’t you sneak away?”

Amy, who was just a year older
than Sam, had married her prince two years earlier. She and John ran a dairy
farm an hour west of Conover. The whole family had gathered there this past
Christmas, but Sam hadn’t been there since. “I can’t. I’ve got to do the Bid on
a Bachelor charity event.”

“I can’t believe you’re really
doing that. It sounds like something you would hate.”

“The Shelter gets a third of the
take.”

Jean sighed. “Didn’t you already
write them a big check this year?”

“It makes me feel good to give
something back,” he said.

 “I know. Well, for your
sake, I hope whoever bids on you is absolutely stunning and sexy as can be.”

Not a chance. Maddie Sinclair
wouldn’t be bidding. “Yeah, me too.  I’ll let you know.  Have fun.”

“We will. By the way, when I got
home from Kelsie’s swim lesson, I introduced myself to Maddie’s father. They
don’t seem all that much alike.”

“What was he doing?”

“Talking on his cell phone. He
looked up long enough to shake my hand and pat Kelsie on the head.”

“He’s a charmer, that’s for sure.
A couple days, max, is all I’m asking.”

“It’s your home, too,” Jean said.
“It’s fine.”

Six hours later Sam unlocked his
front door. Peter Sinclair had moved from the kitchen table to the couch. He
was still talking on the cell phone.

Sam went straight to the shower.
Twenty minutes later he’d put on the ridiculous tuxedo.  It was all part
of the deal. The bachelors, all in tuxes, would parade down the makeshift
runway to give the ladies in the audience a good look.

When Sam walked out of his
bedroom, Maddie’s father took his own good look and then quickly ended his
conversation. “I didn’t realize we were expected to dress for dinner,” he
asked.

“Charity event,” Sam said.

“Are you the emcee?” 

“I’m product. It’s a bachelor
auction to benefit three non-profits.”

The older man considered him. “Will
my daughter be there?” he asked.

“I think so. Your wife, too.” Sam
didn’t see any reason not to share the information. He still didn’t trust that
Mrs. Sinclair wouldn’t follow through on her promise to bid on him. Maybe she’d
be so busy trying to make Mr. Sinclair remember what he’d given up, that she’d
forget about him. “You can buy a ticket at the door. You’re welcome to come.”

Peter Sinclair looked at his cell
phone. Then, very deliberately, he pushed the off button. “Why the hell
not?  Just give me ten minutes to put on a clean shirt.”

*

Maddie thought her mother looked
pretty good in red leather. It did clash a little with her hair, but since most
everyone’s attention would be on her mother’s breasts, which were about to
spill out of her halter top, that probably wasn’t too big of concern. When
they’d reached the school, her mother had promptly headed toward the
makeshift-bar that had been set up under one of the basketball hoops, almost
wringing her hands in anticipation of her first Manhattan since landing in
Conover.

Maddie, who had woken up with a
dull headache and a mouth full of cotton, didn’t think she’d ever drink again.
She’d rolled out of bed and had stumbled into the shower, thinking that would
make it better. She’d promptly slipped on the wet tile and barely managed to
catch herself on the sink. When she’d looked up and discovered that rain had
leaked in, her head had really started clanging. The ceiling in the small
bathroom was ruined. 

So instead of showering, she’d gone
out to her garage, pulled out the extension ladder, and climbed up on her roof.
She’d been careful, cognizant that she’d had surgery less than a week earlier.
It hadn’t taken more than a couple minutes to locate where missing shingles,
likely torn off in the last big wind, had allowed the rain in. 

She’d climbed down and called
Travis Muldoon. He’d promised to be at her house within the hour and he’d kept
his word. Her roof was already patched. Travis had said he’d have the drywall
replaced in her bathroom within a couple days.

Her mother had been dressed and
waiting before Maddie had finally finished her shower.  She’d tried to
convince Frances to skip the auction, but the woman wouldn’t hear of it.
We
need to support your friend, Sam.

That was the same Sam who had
made sure she’d gotten home the night before. The same Sam she’d thrown herself
at. It was probably asking too much to hope that he’d blocked the moment out of
his mind.

He’d sprang into action when
she’d needed somebody to take her father off her hands, whose timing certainly
could have been better, but now that he was in Conover, maybe there was a
chance that her parents could patch things up.

And exit stage right.

Her life could get back to
normal.

Except normal was going to pale in
comparison now that she’d kissed Sam. Correction. Devoured. Consumed. Feasted
upon.

If she hadn’t decided to call it
quits with Jeff before last night, those kisses would have sealed the deal.
Carol was right. Jeff wasn’t the right guy for her.

Not that Dr. Jordonson was,
either.   

Carol, to her right, tapped her
on the arm. “Check out the babe in the corner.”

Maddie looked. A blond woman,
dressed in clingy black silk, had just gotten her bidding paddle from the front
table. She waved it around and held it up, like she was practicing
bidding. 

“Do you know her?” Maddie asked.

“I know of her. My friend Milly
works for Dr. Spade. He’s practically in love with little Miss…” Carol squinted
to see the woman’s number more clearly, “…Number Ten. She’s a drug rep, and
she’s got the hots for Sam.”

“Our Sam?” Maddie knocked her
knife onto the floor. “I mean, not that he’s our Sam.  He’s his own Sam.
He’s Sam. Oh, you know what I mean.”