Love Gone to the Dogs (19 page)

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Authors: Margaret Daley

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Humor, #Self-Help, #Relationships, #Love & Romance, #Health; Fitness & Dieting, #Humor & Satire, #General Humor, #Romance

BOOK: Love Gone to the Dogs
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She nodded because his fingers were still over her lips.

"I have found love again, and I will not lose it. So, no matter what the Neds of this world do, you're stuck with me. If you have to leave, then I'll leave, too, because my home is where you and your family are. Now, will you marry me?"

She knew her smile came slowly, but it radiated from deep within. She threw her arms around his neck and dragged him toward her. "Yes, I'll marry you."

"Good. Now that that's settled, let's get down to a serious discussion."

"What topic do you have in mind?" she asked as she sampled his lips over and over.

"Human anatomy."

She nipped the corners of his mouth. "I suppose that's a subject you aced in medical school."

"Of course," he said as he rose, scooped her up into his arms and headed for his back door.

"Well, that means I'll have a great tutor."

"A thorough tutor. There won't be one part not covered."

"With lots of demonstrations? I'm a visual learner, you know."

"The only way to teach," he whispered against her mouth before taking it in a deep kiss that rocked her to her soul.

 

* * *

 

The room in the courthouse was packed, the noise level high, when Leah walked in with Shane by her side, her hand in his. They strolled toward the front. People stopped talking and stared at them. Sweat trickled down her face, and instantly thought of when Shane's mouth had seared that same flesh with his kisses only moments before. A smile touched her lips, leaving, she was sure, the townsfolk to wonder what had put that serene look on her face.

Shane raised his free hand to signal everyone to be quiet while his other held on to hers. "May I have your attention?"

His voice was calm while Leah felt his tension in his grip. If they hadn't spent the past few hours making plans for their future she would have begun to doubt the outcome. For a couple of minutes everyone tried to speak at once. Shane said nothing further. He just waited. Slowly, people ceased talking, it seemed one by one, and looked toward him for direction.

Shane placed his arm around her shoulder. "Before we get into a discussion on whether the Taylors should move or not—"

"That's the only reason we're meeting tonight," Ned cut in and came forward, his flip-flops sounding on the hardwood floor. "They are a menace to this town and should leave." He pointed to Leah.

If Shane's arm hadn't been around her, she would have taken a step back. The anger in Ned's voice and bearing shouldn't have surprised her but it did.

"The Taylors have just as much right to live here as you do, Ned." Shane squeezed her to his side. "As I've said before, this is a free country."

Ned stepped forward until he was only a foot from Shane. He gestured toward Leah's grandfather in the back of the room, next to Margaret. "That man almost burned down the whole neighborhood."

"Yeah, well, do you remember when your car caught fire two summers ago, Ned?" The fire chief yelled from the entrance. "Wasn't that because Betsy was smoking and tried to hide her cigarettes from you?"

"That was different." Ned swung around and glared at the fire chief.

"How so?" someone else shouted from the front row.

"Betsy was just being a teenager."

"How about that time Madge's potato salad made half the town sick after the Fourth of July picnic?"

"No one can prove that" Ned took a step back as people began to form a circle around him.

"It looks like if any family is a menace to this town, yours could fit the bill," Margaret said, moving forward to stand next to her son.

"Then why did you all come tonight?" Ned searched the faces of his neighbors.

"Because we thought it was about time to put an end to your harassment of the Taylors," Mr. Calvert said, coming up to stand beside Leah. "We think they deserve a chance, which you haven't been giving them. Everyone makes mistakes, especially you, Ned. If we ran everyone who did out of town, we wouldn't have anyone left to live here."

"But they scared my Betsy—"

"Oh, shut up, Ned."

"Yeah, get a life."

"Go back to work."

As Leah listened to the people shout suggestions for Ned and what he should do with the rest of his life, a warm glow blossomed within her that had started with Shane's declaration of love. She realized that these people would accept her whether she was Shane's wife or not. For the first time, she felt she really belonged somewhere.

"Well, I never." Ned pushed past the crowd of people to stomp out of the building.

"What did you have to tell us, Shane?" Mr. Calvert asked as the door slammed closed on Ned.

"Leah has agreed to be my wife. We'll be getting married as soon as possible."

She looked up into Shane's face and felt she had come home.

"Well, it's about time."

"We've been wondering when the two of you would realize you were in love."

"I think the church is available next Saturday."

Leah beamed at the people forming a circle about her and Shane. Her grandfather's weathered face was curved into the biggest smile she had ever seen. He wrapped his arm about Margaret and gave Leah a thumbs up sign. Winking at her, he dragged Shane's mother to him and kissed her soundly in front of everyone.

"I think your grandfather has the right idea," Shane whispered and followed suit.

The cheer that went up stole any doubt Leah had that she and her family wouldn't find a warm home in Shady Oaks.

The End

 

 

About the author:

 

Margaret Daley, an award-winning author of eighty-four books, has been married for over forty years and is a firm believer in romance and love. When she isn’t traveling, she’s writing love stories, often with a suspense thread and corralling her three cats that think they rule her household. To find out more about Margaret visit her website at
http://www.margaretdaley.com
.

 

Connect with Margaret Online:

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My Website/Blog

 

 

Read Excerpt from
Yours, Mine and Ours
from Book Two of the Second Chances Series:

 

The wail of the siren pierced the air, drowning out the deafening sound the muffler was making. Tess Morgan looked back in the rearview mirror, groaned, and eased up on the accelerator. Parking on the side of the road, she saw the motorists passing her and thought about taking her daughter's blankie and throwing it over her head to hide from their curious stares. The color in her cheeks reflected the red lights flashing behind her.

"Why me? Why now?" she muttered while she watched the police officer step from his car.

The officer strode toward her. His tall, beautifully proportioned frame struck her first, but that observation fled quickly to be replaced with a series of others—his fierce, commanding countenance; his casual way of moving that belied an alertness; his lean, whipcord strength evident by the muscles bunched beneath his short sleeve dark blue shirt; his aviator sunglasses that hid his eyes from her; his physical magnetism that kept her staring at him when common sense told her to do otherwise.

When he stopped briefly to write down her license plate number, a rush of expelled air stirred her bangs. This officer sent her heart pounding; she always did have a weakness for a man in a uniform. With each purposeful step that brought him closer, her pulse reacted until it sped through her veins at an alarming rate.

Forcing herself to look away, Tess trained her gaze on a dent on her hood and gripped her steering wheel. She was vividly aware when he came to a halt beside her and leaned down. His musk scented after-shave permeated the car. When she centered her gaze on the man looming in her window, she saw her reflection in his sunglasses, a wide-eyed look on her face. She tried to discern beneath the dark shades, to sense any softness under the hard, unyielding lines of his expression. She couldn't.

"Ma'am, may I see your driver's license?"

His question freed her from her trance. "Driver's license?"

"You do have one?" he asked, one eyebrow cocked.

Color flamed her cheeks even more. "I believe so. Somewhere."

She gave him a weak smile, then turned to rummage through her purse. She found her wallet and rifled through it. She didn't have her license. What did she do with it? Tension cramped her stomach. She certainly couldn't afford one ticket let alone two.

"I can't seem to find it. I know I have one. I just moved here and went and renewed my Missouri license last week. I had it in my pocket yesterday when I drove to the park to run."

"Maybe, ma'am, it's still there," he said in a rich, deep voice that had a calming effect.

"No, I'm sure I put it in here when I got back home." Frustrated, her hands shaking, she dropped the contents of her oversized bag on the seat next to her. She moved aside the apple, the curling iron and the small stuffed bear while she continued, "Unless Katie played with my purse last night. Anything's possible with a curious four-year-old." She finally saw the license, grabbed it and held it up as though she had won an Oscar. "See, here it is."

"So it is." He took it from her. A slight smile cracked his stern expression.

After all that had happened to her this morning, she would have to act like a blithering idiot chattering nervously when she needed all her wits about her if she was going to talk this police officer out of a ticket which she couldn't afford. She could barely afford money for the gas to get her to her job interview.

After examining the piece of plastic, he looked into her face, nothing discernible in his expression. "Ms. Morgan, are you running late?"

She raked her hand through her short curls, nervous because all she saw was herself mirrored in his sunglasses. "No, just running fast."

His half smile became full-fledged, denting the slant of his high cheekbones. "You were going forty-five miles fast which is fine on the highway but not on a city street with a speed limit of thirty-five."

"I have a job interview this morning. The first promising one since I moved here last month. The market isn't great for computer programmers right now. Just my luck, Katie picked today to rebel on wearing what I had picked out for her. I've been choosing her clothes for the past four years. But not today. Then Wesley couldn't find his lunch box with Batman on it and Shaun had to have a certain kind of folder for school and it had to be today. I had to make a special trip to the store, then drop him off at school because he missed the bus. Why can't kids tell you these things the day before?"

"I've asked myself that very same question several times in the past month since school started."

"How many children do you have?"

"Two. One started first grade this year."

"I have a first grader, too. Also, a third grader and my curious four-year-old." She had him, Tess thought with an inner smile. There was a connection now between them. How could he give her a ticket when they had first graders in common? Just in case, she smiled openly at him. "How old is your other child, Officer," Tess looked at his nameplate, "Smith."

"Eighteen months."

"Oh, I love that age. The terrible twos hasn't descended yet"

He looked at her with a disconcerting directness for a long moment before clearing his throat and replacing his smile with that stern, no-nonsense expression. "Mrs. Morgan, do you also realize your safety sticker is overdue?"

"Every time I drive this car. People can hear me coming five blocks away. I can't get my safety sticker because of my muffler and I can't get a muffler without a job and money. I promise I will the minute I land this job." She resisted the urge to glance at her watch. She didn't really need to be reminded the minutes were ticking away all too quickly.

"Where are you headed?"

"Carson International."

"When is your job interview?"

"Ten o'clock."

"Fifteen minutes. Well, then I'll make this quick for the sake of Crystal City's noise level." He flipped open his black pad. "I'll give you a warning this time. Don't let me catch you speeding again, Mrs. Morgan." He scribbled on the paper, ripped it off, and handed it to her. "Consider this a welcoming gift from the city."

"Thank you, Officer Smith." Tess stuffed the warning into her pocket.

He turned to leave, swung back around, and added, "And get that muffler fixed. That's what attracted me to your car in the first place. You're car in the first place. You're right it's loud and can be heard blocks away. The next police officer might not be so welcoming."

Tess started the engine and wanted to cringe when she heard the offending piece of junk come to life. Not only did she need a new muffler but a whole new car. This one was on its last wheel. As she pulled out onto the street, she waved to the officer who was watching her from his vehicle.

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