My Sunshine (37 page)

“It's about me getting a puppy of my own, and having him greet me at the door each night as if I
single-handedly hung the moon. It's about laughing until my sides hurt. It's about having a life, Tucker—a life apart from my work that really matters to me and makes me feel complete. It's about having someone here who makes coming home seem worthwhile. When that girl in there smiles, I feel like the sun just came out on a cloudy day.”

Tucker wandered over to the table and sank onto a chair. “Shit.”

“That's right.
Shit.
I thought you were coming over here to help me make sense of the mess at the clinic. Instead you start in about my life choices. Well, hello? Like yours are so great? You're only three minutes older than me. I think I know my own mind.” Isaiah gestured toward the living room. “If she heard you—if you've made her cry—I'll take every single tear she sheds out of your goddamned hide.”

“I'm sorry,” Tucker said gruffly. “I had no idea you loved her so much—or that she made you so happy.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Maybe she's exactly what you need in a wife, after all.”

“Amen.” Isaiah gave his brother a burning look. “Now, unless you want your future sister-in-law to serve time in the joint, you'd better put your mind to other concerns. Laura was with me last night—in my bed, in my arms. I slept, yes, but I know she never left my side. Someone at that clinic is trying to frame her. We need to find out who the hell it is and how the hell they did it.”

 

An hour and a half later Isaiah sat hunched over a list at the kitchen table.
Possibilities.
He and
Tucker had racked their brains, trying to come up with suspects, anyone at the clinic who might want to get rid of Laura, for whatever reason. So far James was their most likely candidate. But Isaiah's gut told him to look elsewhere. According to Laura, the kid was harmless. He needed to trust her instincts.

Isaiah was going over the list of employees again when the doorbell rang. He wasn't expecting any-one. He wondered if Tucker had come back. As he strode into the living room, Laura emerged from her bedroom. He'd thought she was asleep, so it was with no small surprise that he saw she was wearing her parka.

“Going somewhere?” he asked with a laugh.

“Yes,” she said hollowly. “That's Gram. I called her to come get me.”

It was then that Isaiah noticed her satchel set just outside the bedroom door. His stomach took a dive. Her eyes. Never had he seen such pain.
Tucker.
Isaiah knew then that Laura had overheard their conversation.

“Laura, don't pay any mind to my brother. He said his piece. I set him straight. It's all settled now.”

Avoiding his gaze, she moved past him to answer the door. Etta stood on the porch. She looked beautiful for a woman her age, smartly turned out in a brown suede jacket over a camel pantsuit, her silver hair swept into a pile of curls atop her head. She flashed Isaiah a sad look, and then she smiled at her granddaughter.

“Hello, honey,” she said as she gave Laura a hug. “I got here as fast as I could.”

Isaiah advanced on the women. “Etta, this is all a big misunderstanding.” He gave Laura a meaningful look. “We just need to talk it out—like two
mature
adults.”

Laura didn't take the bait. In fact, Isaiah got the awful feeling that she didn't even hear him. “Just let me get my things, Gram. I'll only be a minute.”

True to her word, Laura returned seconds later with her purse strap over one shoulder, a bundle of clothes under one arm, and the satchel in her other hand. Before stepping out onto the porch with her grandmother, she turned to Isaiah.

“I phoned Trish. She says she'll come get the puppies. In about two weeks they'll be ready to go, and they don't have to be fed as often now. She can use the money that they'll bring in.”

Isaiah's mouth had gone as dry as dirt. She honestly meant to leave him. “What about Frown Face?”

Hapless bounded up onto the porch, giving a happy bark. Laura didn't even look at the pup. “Things have changed. I can't keep Frown Face after all. I'm sure Trish will find him a good home.”

“Laura.” Isaiah followed her out onto the porch. He gave Etta a pleading look that sent the older woman hurrying down the steps to her car, which she'd left still running in the circular drive. “Please don't do this, Laura. I love you.”

She shrugged and attempted to smile. “It'll wear off.”

“No, damn it, it won't wear off. Tucker is an idiot. Don't let what he said ruin things for us.”

A shimmer of brightness in her eyes told Isaiah that she was battling tears. He wanted to grab her up into his arms, but he had an awful feeling that she would fight him if he tried. If his father had taught him anything, it was never to use his strength against a woman. The only resolution to this problem was for them to sit down and talk.

“It never would have worked,” she said shakily. “I'm glad it's ending this way. We can still be friends. Neither of us is angry. It's a good time for me to go.”

“And I'm supposed to just let you? I don't think so.”

“It's my choice.” She blinked away the sheen of tears and met his gaze with a directness that told him she meant it with all her heart. “Don't call. Don't come around. It's over.”

“And I don't have any say in it?”

“No.”

She turned and hurried down the steps. As a teenager Isaiah had gotten his heart broken a few times. Back then he'd thought it was the end of his life. Now he realized he hadn't understood what real pain was.

Tears sprang to his eyes. That made him furious. He would never go crawling after a woman. If she was willing to throw everything away over some misguided comments made by his brother, he'd be damned if he'd beg her to stay.

“Fine, then!” he yelled. “You want to go? Go! Just don't kid yourself, sweetheart. I won't be
sitting here twiddling my thumbs, waiting for you to get your head on straight! You're not the only woman on earth.”

She never looked back. She just tossed her stuff into her grandmother's car, climbed in, and slammed the door. The Chrysler crunched over frozen snow to the road. Isaiah stared with burning eyes at the taillights. When the white car had disappeared from sight, he sank numbly onto the steps. Hapless crawled halfway into his lap and whined, almost as if he sensed that something was horribly wrong.

Isaiah grabbed Hapless up in his arms, buried his face in the puppy's fur, and wept like a baby.

“C
ome to my place tonight,” Etta coaxed as they pulled into town.

Laura just wanted to go home so she could cry her eyes out without an audience. “No, thanks, Gram. I need to be by myself for a while.”

“Pooh.” Etta passed the turnoff to Laura's apartment. “You have no food there.”

“I have stuff in the freezer.” Laura couldn't imagine eating anything. “I'll shop for milk and eggs in the morning.”

“Yes, perhaps you will. But for tonight you'll humor an old lady. I want to talk to you.”

Laura heard it coming. “If you're hoping to convince me that this is a mistake, save your breath.”

When they reached the house, Etta pushed Laura down onto a chair at the kitchen table, made a pot of tea, and arranged cookies on a plate. “You'll feel better with a little something in your stomach,” she insisted.

Laura dutifully nibbled on a cookie. Normally she loved Gram's baked goods, but her taste buds felt anesthetized.

“Now,” Etta said, cupping her dainty,
rose-trimmed teacup in her gnarled hands, “talk to me. You were happy as a clam, and now you're devastated. There must be a reason.”

Laura's cell phone rang just then. She fished in her purse, found the apparatus, and gazed glumly at the balloon displayed in the window.

“Isaiah?” Gram asked when Laura dropped the phone back into her purse without taking the call.

“I don't want to talk to him.” Laura was afraid she might lose her resolve if she did. “It's better this way. Quick and clean.”

Etta sighed and took a sip of tea. “You're probably right.
Men.
In the end they're all bastards.”

Laura couldn't quite believe her grandmother had said such a thing. “Isaiah isn't a bastard.”

Etta lowered her cup onto the saucer. “Well,” she conceded, “there are a few exceptions. My Jim was one.” She gave Laura a sidelong look. “And maybe your Isaiah is as well. If so, why are you leaving him?”

Laura recounted the conversation that she'd overheard between Isaiah and his brother. “Tucker made some very good points.”

“Such as?”

Laura's throat went tight. “I can't hobnob at classy dinners and fund-raisers, Gram. Isaiah may want to teach someday—or do research. He'll need to get grants for that. It's all a poli-tical game, and the best players get the goodies. You have to walk the walk and talk the talk.”

Etta nodded. “I imagine so. But what's to say you can't? You're a lovely person, Laura.”

“I can't speak very well.”

“You're talking quite well right now. Slowly, I admit, with a little hesitation between each word, but it's barely noticeable.”

Laura recalled Rosie's candid question:
Do you have a speech impediment?
The people in Laura's family loved her. She was glad of that, and she appreciated it. But they overlooked a lot that other people couldn't or wouldn't.

“I don't want to hold Isaiah back.” Laura met her grandmother's gaze. “Tell me I won't, Gram. Tell me that I can hold my own with the wives of professors at big, important colleges where pol-itics are the name of the game. You tell me that, and I'll call Isaiah right now and tell him I've made a mistake.”

Etta sat there for a long moment, staring at Laura. Then her rheumy eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head.

It was all the answer Laura needed.

 

Laura called her parents. Her father answered. Fighting to keep her voice steady, Laura said, “Hi, Daddy.”

“Laurie? How's my little girl?”

Laura smiled through tears, glad to hear her father's deep voice. “I've been better.”

“Uh-oh. That doesn't sound good. Something go haywire with the job?”

As briefly as possible, Laura told her father about all that had happened. Mike Townsend was silent for a beat when Laura stopped talking.

“If he loves you, Laura, none of that university and research business will matter a damn to him.”

It mattered to Laura, and she feared that someday it might matter a great deal to Isaiah as well. “That isn't really why I called. I'm in a spot of trouble, like I said. Can you send me some money to pay for a lawyer? I'll pay you back. I just can't right now.”

“How much do you need?” Mike asked.

Laura sighed. “I don't know. A couple of thousand will do for a start.”

“I'll wire it tomorrow.”

Laura squeezed her eyes closed. “When this mess is cleared up, I'd like to move down there, Daddy.”

“To Florida, you mean?”

“There should be lots of housework,” she said with a tremulous laugh. “All those retired women wanting to go to potlucks and parties.”

“There is that,” her father agreed. “And lots of dogs to walk as well.”

“I'm tired of all this snow,” Laura lied. “Down there I'll be able to soak up some rays. Maybe I'll even try swimming again.”

Laura didn't tell her father that there was another very good reason for her move to Florida. It was almost four thousand miles from Isaiah Coulter. She couldn't bear the thought of running into him in town. Just seeing him from a distance would break her heart. Better that she make a clean break and never look back.

“You know we'd love to have you with us, sweetheart.”

Laura thought of all the brain supplements her mother would force upon her and almost cringed.
She loved her parents. But a little distance as a buffer zone had been awfully nice.

 

Isaiah barely slept that night. Even though Trish had come to get the puppies, he woke up every three hours, on the dot, and then just lay there, listening to the awful silence. He'd tried to phone Laura several times before coming to bed. She wasn't taking his calls.

The following morning he was gritty-eyed and exhausted when he got to the clinic at six. Susan had already opened, which was normal on a weekday. Isaiah grunted a greeting to her as he passed through the kennels. When he entered the surgery, he was surprised to see Belinda.

“You're here bright and early,” he said as he slung his coat over a hook and swept off his new Stetson.

“I thought I'd come in and make sure everything was okay to roll,” she said. “Robberies don't happen every day, after all.”

Isaiah stepped to the sink to scrub his hands. Then he checked his appointment roster. The world hadn't stopped turning. He had three surgeries scheduled for late morning, an afternoon that was booked back-to-back with appointments, and another two surgeries in the late afternoon. He went to check on the guide dog. The shepherd looked perky and happy to see him.

“Hey, buddy.” Isaiah crouched down to examine the dog's gums. “Looking good,” he said, trying to be his usual cheerful self, but somehow he couldn't quite muster a smile. He missed Laura so much. It
had been only a little over twelve hours since he'd seen her, but he felt as if it had been a year. “You'll be getting your walking papers soon.”

The shepherd whined and nudged Isaiah's hand for petting. Isaiah obliged for a moment and then pushed to his feet. No matter what happened in his personal life, he still had a job to do. First thing in the morning he always made rounds to check on his patients. He wouldn't neglect his responsibilities simply because things weren't going well for him privately. These animals were counting on him.

“What's the news on Laura?” Belinda asked.

“No news at all yet.”

Belinda leaned her shoulder against the cages, standing so close that the back of Isaiah's wrist grazed her breast as he reached in to examine a cat that had been declawed and neutered two days earlier. “This guy should have gone home yesterday,” Isaiah observed.

Belinda grabbed his wrist and drew it back to her chest. “Yum. That felt good.”

Isaiah had been taken by surprise a few times, but her behavior totally sideswiped him. As he closed the cage, he tried to withdraw his arm. Belinda toppled against him if he'd pulled her toward him. Her breasts smashed against his chest. She gyrated her hips seductively against his pelvis. He stared stupidly into her brown eyes and wondered what the hell he'd done to bring this on.

“Laura's not here. I am,” she said huskily. “Chances are she'll go to jail. Drug offense.” She clucked her tongue. “Serious business, that. A
felony, isn't it? If you plan to marry her, you may have a very long wait.” She pushed her hips against him again. “A man has needs. I'd love to take care of yours.”

Isaiah's body wasn't connected to his brain. When she rubbed against him, things happened. It wasn't about desire. It wasn't about emotion. Heck, he woke up with a hard-on when he needed to take a leak.

“Belinda, I—”

“You talk too much,” she whispered.

Before Isaiah guessed what she meant to do, she locked her arms around his neck. The next instant her tongue was in his mouth. He tried to set her away from him. She clung like a leech. He finally managed to wrench his face to one side.

“This isn't happening,” he ground out.

She rubbed her breasts against him. “You want me. I can feel it. You're hard as a rock and throbbing for me.”

He was semihard, an anatomical reaction to uninvited stimulus. “No, Belinda. I'm sorry.” He pried her arms loose and firmly set her away from him. “You're a pretty lady, but—”

She was wearing a tight zip-up sweater. She grabbed the tab. With a downward tug she bared her breasts. She wore no bra. Toying with her nipples to make them hard, she smiled. “Imagine your mouth on them, Isaiah. Imagine burying yourself in me. I'm already hot—and wet. We could do it on a table, or on the boxes in one of the storage rooms.”

He couldn't believe this was happening. “Cover yourself. Susan could walk in.”

“Do you think she's never seen two people getting it on?” She rolled her eyes. “Hmm, maybe not. She's built like a block.”

Isaiah moved away. “Zip up. I'm not interested.”

Silence. He stepped over to the counter. His hands were shaking as he flipped through the patient charts to update his notes. He couldn't make sense of the entries.

“You son of a bitch!” she cried. “You're a limp-dicked excuse for a man.”

Throbbing for her one second and limp the next? That was interesting. Isaiah tossed down the pen and turned to face her.

Red-faced and trembling with rage, she jutted her chin at him. “I
love
you!” she cried, the impassioned declaration making her naked breasts jiggle. “I'm the one who's right for you. Why can't you see that? Instead you ignore me and pant after that stupid, moronic kennel keeper.”

Isaiah's mind went cold with realization. “Oh, my God,” he whispered. “It was you.”

Belinda strode angrily across the room, doubled her fist, and swung. Isaiah caught both her wrists just before she planted her knuckles on his mouth. “It was you all along,” he said, still incredulous. “You imagined we might get together. When Laura came along, you got jealous and started trying to get rid of her.”

Belinda drew her head back and spat in his face. Isaiah blinked. Never in all his life had he been so tempted to hit a woman. But that wasn't the
Coulter way, and he wasn't about to compromise his standards for the likes of her.

“You stole the drugs and planted them in Laura's car,” he accused. “Somehow you got your hands on her security code. All you cared about was getting her out of here.”

“Prove it, asshole.”

She wrenched her wrists free and whirled to leave the room, bare breasts swinging. Isaiah was right on her heels. “Not so fast, sweet cheeks. You've got some questions to answer and a small matter with the police to settle.”

“Fuck you!”

Isaiah followed her up the hall. He was tempted to grab her arm, but if he did that she'd undoubtedly start swinging. She was a sturdy woman. Being a man, he was at a disadvantage because he couldn't fight back. He figured he could probably subdue her, but in the doing he might hurt her. Better to let the cops handle her.

They reached the lobby. Val, the only office employee who came in early, was standing over the fax machine. She whirled around when Belinda skirted the counter and entered the workstation. Belinda promptly burst into tears, which took Isaiah totally by surprise.

“Help me!” she shrieked, and ducked behind Val as if for protection. “Oh, God, Val. Don't let him near me. H-he tried t-to r-rape me. We were in the s-surgery, and all of a s-sudden he jumped m-me. Look, just look. His fly is still bulging.”

Isaiah almost clamped a hand over his crotch.
Oh, shit.
It would be his word against hers. Who the hell would ever believe him?

Val gave Isaiah a long look. Then she ran her gaze over Belinda's denuded breasts. “Bullshit,” the office manager said. “I've been here since this place opened. A lot of good-looking babes have come and gone, honey. None of them ever had a problem.”