One Day in Apple Grove (8 page)

Where was Jamie? The door was still closed so the dog had to be somewhere in the room. “Here, boy,” he called, tucking the towel around his waist and stepping over the mangled comforter and around the change.

The closet door was still closed, so the dog had to be under the bed. Getting down on his hands and knees, he peered beneath the mahogany four-poster that had been in the family for a generation. Spotting the little guy, he made a point to keep his tone quiet and even. “Hey, come on out.”

The dog was shaking. “I bet the table hitting the floor scared you.” Lying on his stomach, he reached a hand toward Jamie. “It’s OK, boy,” he soothed.

Jamie licked his hand and let Jack coax him out from under the bed. “We’d better go over those rules again, boy.”

But the dog wasn’t paying any attention; he was too busy licking and nibbling Jack’s chin. “I can probably barricade you in the kitchen for today and pick up a few baby gates on my way home.”

By the time he cleaned up what was left of the bowl and collected the change, Jamie was ready to play. “I’ve got to get dressed first,” he told the dog. His firm tone must have registered, because the pup sat down and waited patiently while Jack smoothed the comforter on the bed and got dressed.

“Hey!” he chuckled. “Give me back my shoe!” And as quickly as that, the chase was on. By the time he caught the dog, the dog had mangled one of his good shoes, leaving Jack no option but to wear his work boots.

“Serves me right for not thinking I’d need more than one pair of good shoes.”

Stepping into the boots, he tied them and stood. Despite the puppy’s antics, his left leg felt pretty good. The work boots were far more comfortable than his dress shoes. “Maybe I should thank that little force of destruction for ripping up my shoes so I had to wear these.”

Jamie trailed after him until he saw the card table come out of the hall closet and slide in front of the doorway. As if he sensed his play area had just been downsized, the dog hung his head and waited for Jack to finish.

“Now,” he said, going down on his good knee. “It’s like this, boy. I have to go to work. I have patients to see.” Jamie licked the back of Jack’s hand. “You be good,” Jack told him, “and before you know it, Caitlin will be here to feed you and let you out.”

He hated leaving the dog alone but had no other option today. His appointment book was full, and he wouldn’t have time to keep an eye on Jamie.

A glance at the clock told him he would be on time if he left right then. “I’ll see you tonight, boy. Kiss Caitlin for me.” As soon as he said the words, warmth slid through his system.

He shook his head as he closed the front door.

Jack thought about Caitlin…all the way to town.

By the time he was halfway through his morning, he had five minutes to down a cup of lukewarm coffee before the next of a half-dozen patients arrived.

“Well now,” he said, squatting down so he was eye-level with the youngest of the Doyle children. “Your mommy said that you have a rash on your belly.”

Six-year-old Christina Doyle nodded.

He deliberately kept his voice soothing and his eyes on the little girl’s face while he asked, “Can you show it to me?”

She lifted her pink T-shirt. “See?”

He studied the rash and asked, “Does your throat hurt?”

“Not that much.”

He looked up at Mrs. Doyle. “Has she had a fever?”

“Just one night, but then she’s been fine. What do you think the rash is from?”

“Let’s do a strep test and rule that out.” When he’d taken the swab, he said, “Now I have some special stickers. Would you like fairies or kittens?”

“Fairies,” Christina said solemnly.

“If you and your mommy will just have a seat in the waiting room by Mrs. Sweeney, I will let you know the results in a few moments. The rapid test only takes ten to fifteen minutes. I will still have the sample sent out for a follow-up culture, just to be on the safe side.”

“Come on, Christina,” her mother said. “Let’s read the book we brought.”

Settled on the sofa in his waiting room, Mrs. Doyle’s raven head bent toward her daughter’s. The gentle way she stroked her daughter’s back and brushed a lock of hair from her child’s eyes filled Jack’s heart with warmth. He remembered the times his mother had rubbed her hand up and down his back when he’d been ill as a child. It spoke of tender feelings…it spoke of a mother’s love.

“Doc Gannon?”

He turned toward the deep voice. “Ahh, Mr. Turner,” he said, greeting the older gentleman. “How is Rudy?”

At the mention of his son’s name, the man smiled. “He’s doing well, back home on leave. He’s decided the navy is the life for him.”

Jack’s gut clenched remembering the reasons he hadn’t extended his tour. There were times when he had absolutely loved the camaraderie of the navy and still missed it—but then he’d wake up during the middle of a violent thunderstorm reliving the horror of those moments the last time they’d been under fire.

Before his mind could replay the events of that day, he pushed those thoughts aside and focused on his friend’s father. “So what brings you here today?”

“Did something to my ankle.”

“Let’s have a look.” The older man’s ankle was swollen and tender to the touch. “Can you move it at all?”

From the look on Mr. Turner’s face when he tried to rotate his ankle, Jack suspected it was more than a bad sprain. He sat down on the stool with wheels on it. “Now,” he said, rolling over to his terminal. “You need to have that ankle X-rayed to make certain there is no fracture.” Writing the prescription for an X-ray, he handed it to the man. “One of these days, I’ll have an X-ray machine, but until I do, it’s only about a forty-five- minute ride to Newark. Do you have someone who can drive you?”

“As soon as my wife gets home from work, she can drive me.”

“Good,” Jack told him, handing him the prescription. “Until then, don’t put your full weight on it. I’m going to wrap it for you. I have a pair of crutches you can borrow until you’re healed.”

Once Mr. Turner left, he checked the rapid test for little Christina.

“Just as I suspected.” The test read positive.

“Mrs. Doyle,” he said, walking into the waiting room. “The test is positive. I’ve already called in a prescription for Christina for amoxicillin at Weir’s Drug Store. They’re taking care of it for you right now.”

“Thank you, Doc,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “Come on, Christina. Time to go.”

The little girl held up her fairy stickers and waved at Jack. “Thank you, Doc.”

He grinned. “Be sure to take all of your medicine, Christina.”

“Yes, sir.”

He felt older than the pines surrounding his parent’s home, and they’d been there long before Jack had been born. In spite of that, he was smiling as the ladies left.

“She’s such a dear,” Mrs. Sweeney said.

His office quiet for the moment, Jack had time to enter information into the charts of the patients he’d seen during the day. He still had a few hours to go before he was finished for the day, and he hoped that Jamie had behaved for Caitlin.

As soon as the thought of her popped into his mind, he couldn’t concentrate. It was a good thing his day was almost over. Struggling to keep his mind on the job at hand, he decided that a call to see how things had been at his home when Cait stopped to check on Jamie was not out of the ordinary.

“Caitlin,” he said quietly, when she answered his call. “How’s little Jameson?”

“How attached were you to that card table?”

He noticed the laughter in her voice. “What happened?”

Giggles turned to chuckles, and chuckles to belly laughs before she finally started to wind down again enough to answer him. “The vinyl top is shredded and two of the legs have been gnawed on past recognition. Maybe you should have faced the vinyl top side out.”

He didn’t know what to say. Cait must have taken his silence for a bad thing because she was quick to add, “He peed on the newspapers by the back door, and did his other doggy business outside as soon as I let him out after feeding him. He’s really smart.”

Clearing his throat he managed, “I wasn’t thinking about him chewing it at all…just as a way to block the doorway so he wouldn’t get loose. By the way, I checked with Mitch, and no one in town has called about a missing dog. He even posted a notice on the town’s website, but no hits yet.”

“Then maybe he’s not lost.”

The hope in her voice was music to his ears, because if he was going to keep this puppy, he needed all the help he could get caring for him while he was at work. Depending on how busy schedules got, he might have to ask one more person to help, but he’d think about that later. They were OK for now. “So, did he actually eat any of the tabletop?”

“When I cleaned up the shredded mess, it seemed like most of it was there. If he did eat some, it wasn’t much…besides, I don’t think it tasted as good as the busy bone I left him with.”

“You bought him dog treats?”

“I figured he needed a treat for staying home alone and probably being scared. Murphy’s Market had some…oh and I picked up some puppy chow until you’ve had a chance to buy some more chicken or chop meat to boil up for the dog.”

“I’ll pay you back—”

“Don’t even think about it. We said we’d both take care of him until we found out if he was lost or a stray needing a home. I’m sure he’ll need something besides the bright red collar and leash that he’s very proud of.”

Jack’s day suddenly seemed endless. The need to be with Caitlin—and Jamie—filled him. He had been tempted to kiss her last night, and couldn’t decide today if he was the smartest man in the universe or dumb as a stump. If he asked his friends, the answers would be equally divided. Half of his friends were bachelors, like himself, and the other half were happily married.

Married.
Now that was a word that didn’t often enter his mind unless he was about to attend the wedding of a family member, friend, or neighbor. No siree, Bob…not a word he thought of often.

“You didn’t buy him a collar too, did you?” Caitlin asked.

“No,” he reassured her. “And even if I had, it wouldn’t have been money wasted. It’s always good to have a spare. Jake chewed through a couple of collars when he was little, until we realized we had to buy one that was a perfect fit, so that there wasn’t a piece that he could grab onto and chew.”

“Do you remember Brutus?” Cait asked him.

He smiled. “The McCormacks’ boxer? Yes, I do. He was a walking garbage disposal.” The bells on the front door rang. “I’m not sure if Mrs. Sweeney is back from running errands yet. Can you hang on one sec? Be right back.” He put the call on hold as his office door opened. “Mrs. Green,” he greeted his next patient. “Right on time. Come on back to the examining room. I’ll be right with you.” After settling her in one of three examining rooms, he walked over to the reception desk and picked up line one. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Cait, but she’s not back yet and my three o’clock just arrived. Are you still making dinner for us tonight?”

“I am but undecided about what to make. After walking in on the scene of the crime—your poor table, I’m thinking it should be something quick but packed with protein, so that we’ll have energy.”

Desire sparked and began to simmer as he thought of what he’d like to use that energy for. Unable to help himself, he asked, “Energy to do what?”

“Tire out Jamie. What did you think I meant?”

“It’ll keep,” he told her. And it would until tonight, when he’d make the first move. He couldn’t spend another night wondering what it would be like kissing Caitlin…he’d seen firsthand how short life could be.

“Oh,” her breath sounded a bit thready. He couldn’t have been more pleased with her reaction to what he had in mind. “Jamie should be fine until I get back to your house around six thirty. I want to stop home and get cleaned up. You don’t want to know where my hands have been today.”

He didn’t bother to echo her last statement. “See you at eight.”

Straightening up, he walked over and knocked on the door to room one.

“Come in.”

“So, Mrs. Green,” he said, closing the door behind him. “What brings you here today?”

Caitlin felt as if she’d been sitting on a keg of dynamite all day and couldn’t explain why. The feeling propelled her through her day, excitement building inside her.

“For what?” Random thoughts went zinging through her brain in time with the pulse beat of something a bit more primal than her heart—and Jack Gannon was the reason.

Hurrying through her shower, she ran through the recipes stored in her head and decided on pasta primavera. “Quick, easy, and inexpensive.” If she was going to be adding dog food and treats to her budget, she’d better start economizing now.

The urge to wear something pretty was vetoed by the need to wear something durable. After all, she’d probably be sitting on the floor with Jamie once she got dinner started. But just because she had to be practical didn’t mean she couldn’t wear her good jeans with a body-hugging top.

Rifling through her drawers, she found the one she was looking for. Pulling the butter yellow scoop-neck shirt over her head, she frowned at the super-snug fit. “I know I haven’t gained any weight—oh crap. Grace did the laundry last.”

Note
to
self: yell at Grace later and remind her to use cold water and low heat to keep from shrinking my clothes.

Fifteen minutes later, she was pulling up in front of Murphy’s Market. List in hand, she opened the door to see Mary Murphy flirting with her father by the counter. When she heard her father’s soft laughter, she smiled.

“Hi, Mary,” she called out. “Hi, Pop.”

“Caitlin,” Mary replied. “You look lovely in that color. Are you going out tonight?”

“She hasn’t gone out since Meg cut back her hours at the shop,” her father chimed in as he smiled down at her. “Mary’s right. I like you in yellow.”

“I’m helping Jack take care of Jamie—”

“He’s the little puppy they found last night,” her father told Mary.

Cait enjoyed watching the subtle emotions flitting across Mary’s face whenever Cait’s dad spoke. The Mulcahy sisters were in wholehearted agreement on the subject of Mary and their dad continuing to date—and how their dad seemed to be moving just a little too slowly. “I just need to pick up a few things. Talk to you later, Pop.”

“Let me help you,” Mary offered. “Be right back, Joseph.”

Mary trailed her fingertips along her father’s shoulder, down to his elbow.
Maybe
he
isn’t moving as slowly as I thought.
Cait would be calling Meg the first chance she got to give her the update.

“What do you need?”

“Fresh veggies and pasta.”

“Right this way.”

Cait thanked Mary for her help and waved to her dad as he closed the door behind her. Something told her to look over her shoulder, and when she did, she saw her father smiling as he turned the
open
sign around to
closed
and took Mary into his arms.

As she was closing the door and firing up the engine, she saw Susie Sanders, Apple Grove’s local Realtor, drive slowly past Murphy’s Market. “That does it. It’ll be all over town or emblazoned across the water tower by tomorrow.”

She had her earpiece in and dialed Meg. “Meg! Guess who I just saw at Murphy’s Market?”

“Pop,” Meg answered.

“How did you know?”

“Honey B. just called.”

“Well, I hope he and Mary are ready for the gossip and speculation to start.”

“Because…?” Meg said.

“Susie Sanders saw them too.”

The sisters shared a laugh before Meg said, “Pop deserves a second chance at happiness—with all the trimmings.”

“I know. I think so too.” The rest of what she wanted to say got caught behind the lump forming in her throat. “I’ve gotta go,” she told Meg. “Can you call Gracie for me?”

Meg agreed. “I will. You know that if I wait, my little darlings will distract me and it’ll be bedtime before I remember, and that’ll be too late.”

“My nephews are a handful, but an adorable distraction,” Cait said before adding, “You know how cranky Grace gets if she has to hear the latest about one of us over at the diner.”

“Have fun tonight,” Meg told her.

“I’m babysitting a puppy until Jack gets home.”

“Uh-huh. Jack’s a good man, Sis. Give him a chance.”

“Thanks. Talk to you later.”

Disconnecting, she turned right onto Eden Church and drove to Jack’s house on autopilot. The first thing she heard as she pulled into the driveway was the mournful howl of a lonely puppy.

“Poor little dog.” Grabbing the bag of groceries, she got out and headed for the back door. She let herself in and set the bag on the counter, relieved that the dresser she’d blocked the doorway with that afternoon had kept him corralled. Jamie was jumping for joy when he realized he had someone to play with.

“Easy, sweetie. Sit,” she reinforced the command with a gentle nudge to his doggie backside. When he sat, she praised him.

“All right. I’ll feed you first and then put on the water for the pasta.” Keeping up a dialogue with Jamie the entire time he ate as she sliced veggies and prepared a salad, she was surprised when she heard the slam of a car door.

“Jack’s home!” She marveled that she felt as excited by the prospect as Jamie. Easing back, she let Jamie greet Jack first. “Are you going to yell at him for chewing the table?” she asked as he walked through the door.

“I could, but it wouldn’t do much good, seeing as it was hours ago.” He bent down to pet Jamie and Caitlin couldn’t help but notice the way his jeans hugged his taut backside. Since he was preoccupied with the dog, she fanned herself without worrying that he might see.

He braced his hands on the floor to stand, and Cait wondered if it was because he was tired and his leg was bothering him again. She couldn’t help but notice and be impressed by the amount of muscle in Jack’s back and torso. Mrs. Sweeney had told Peggy that the good doctor was definitely hiding his light under a bushel wearing that white lab coat, and of course Peggy had shared that tidbit with Cait.

The timer rang and she drained the pasta. “How was your day?”

Jack opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. “Busy, productive. Yours?” He handed her a glass of red wine. “It’s my favorite merlot. I hope you like it.”

After she took a sip, she said, “It’s lovely.”

Jamie chose that moment to shove his way in between them and jump up on Jack. Jack corrected the dog and then began to stroke his back, sending the puppy into doggie ecstasy. “Good boy, I know you missed us.” With a look of longing at his untouched glass of wine, he sighed. “How about if we go toss the ball a few times?”

“Dinner’s ready,” Caitlin said. “But it can wait a little bit. It’ll still taste good cold.”

Jack paused in the doorway, a hand braced above him as his gaze locked with hers. Heat shot through her at the desire in his eyes. But then he blinked and the look was gone, leaving her to wonder if it was wishful thinking. That almost-kiss was amping up the anticipation and driving her nuts.

“That sounds wonderful. Thanks for going to the trouble of making dinner.”

“Mmm.”

He held out his hand. “Come on outside and play with us.”

As she took his hand, her grip must have been a bit desperate; he looked down at their clasped hands and then into her eyes. “Tough day?”

She shrugged. “Parts of it.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

He nodded. “Can you stay with Jamie for a minute? I need to find a tennis ball.”

A few moments later, he emerged from the garage with his hand in the air. “OK, boy!” He wound up like an all-star pitcher and threw the ball. Jamie gave chase and Caitlin smiled at the two of them.

A half a dozen tosses later, Jamie’s tongue was hanging out of the side of his mouth and he was panting. “Water break,” she called out.

Both males looked at her as if she were crazy, but then Jack must have had second thoughts. “Let’s go.” Jamie followed him into the house.

“I just need to wash my hands.”

Since he seemed to be waiting for her to agree, she nodded and turned to fix their plates and then stopped. “Just a minute,” she said. “I left the bread in the car. Be right back.”

He was setting the kitchen table when she walked back in and set the bag on the counter. “Fresh-baked Italian bread.”

He handed her a cutting board and bread knife. The microwave dinged and he smiled. “I thought your meal deserved to be warmed up, especially since parts of your day didn’t go as well as mine.”

Touched because he’d taken the time to think of her, she returned his smile.

“Thanks.” She set the bread on the table and watched the way he moved about the kitchen, deftly removing one plate of pasta and inserting another and then topping off her wine. “You certainly know your way around the kitchen.”

“I’ve had lots of practice living on my own, and my mom thought I should learn to cook at an early age.”

“I learned through trial and error. Meg never had the time to learn to cook. She was too busy watching us, keeping up with schoolwork—”

“And working with your dad. I remember how worried she was that she’d do or say the wrong thing and you and Gracie would end up scarred for life.” The microwave interrupted what he was going to say. Once he had removed the plate and set it on the table, he held out his hand to Caitlin.

It was warm and firm with calluses—a working man’s hand. Her hand tingled and she shivered at his touch.

“Cold?”

“Um…no. I was just thinking…”

“About?” he prompted.

“Hands.”

“What about them?” He seemed interested.

She cleared her throat because she wasn’t about to tell him that his touch set off sparks inside of her—at least not yet. “I grew up appreciating the strength in a person’s hands. My dad could do anything with his: fix the basketball hoop, lower a bicycle seat, show one of us how to change a flat tire.”

Jack tightened his grip on her hand and drew her a little closer. “Hands do so many other things too.”

She looked up, meeting his gaze, unable to hold back the sigh of contentment that escaped. “True,” she mumbled. “We both use our hands to earn a living—you use yours to fix people. I use mine to fix things.”

“Common ground.” He brushed his thumb across the back of her hand, a gentle caress that shouldn’t have caused her belly to flutter, but it did. They were talking about hands for goodness sake!

“I grew up wanting to use my hands like my dad—the people in Apple Grove depended on him, just like I did.”

Cait hadn’t been looking for one, but somehow she knew instinctively that she’d managed to find a man like her dad—strong, solid, and dependable.

The warmth of Jack’s hand holding hers distracted her, and for a moment, she let her imagination run wild, wondering what it would feel like to have his hands slide to the small of her back and slowly pull her closer… “Um, we’d better eat while it’s still warm.” Brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes with her free hand, she added, “Pasta can get sticky after you warm it up twice.”

He seemed reluctant to let go. With a knuckle, he tipped her chin up so that she could look into his eyes. “You’re not what I expected, Caitlin Mulcahy.”

The deep timbre of his voice skittered up her spine, distracting her until all she wanted to do was give in to temptation and lay her head against his broad chest. But at the last moment, sanity returned.

“Dinner’s getting cold.” She gave in to the involuntary shiver his intense looks and distracting hands caused. When she tugged on her hand again, this time he let her go.

But instead of sitting down at the table, Jack, followed by his little black shadow, walked out of the kitchen. “Nice work, Mulcahy,” she grumbled. “A handsome man, a quiet dinner for two, and you somehow manage to scare him off talking about hands.”

Before she could launch into a diatribe, he returned with a gray sweatshirt with dark blue letters across the chest. It simply said navy. “Your arms felt chilly.” He handed it to her. “It’s a little battered because it’s my favorite.”

She slipped it over her head, thinking the warmth of the worn fabric beat out the desire to be fashionable. “I hadn’t realized I was so cold.”

“When I’m tired, I tend to feel the cooler temperatures faster than I normally would.” He raised his glass and smiled. “To good food, a lovely dinner companion—” Jamie’s bark had them both grinning. “Companions,” he corrected, looking down at the pup. When the dog stopped barking, sat, and looked up at them, Cait couldn’t help but laugh. They settled down to eat and the tension from moments before melted away. Conversation came easily when speaking about Jamie.

“How are you going to bring yourself to give him back if he belongs to someone else?”

Jack paused with the fork halfway to his lips. “It’s already been twenty-four hours and no one has stepped forward to claim him.”

“I suppose if they were desperate, they’d be searching far and wide for him.” She paused and tasted the pasta, pleased that reheating it hadn’t made it rubbery.

“This bread’s delicious. Who made it?”

She smiled. “I have my sources.”

“It didn’t come from Mary’s Market or from the supermarket over in Newark.”

“No,” she said, “and no.”

“Hmm, reminds me of a few ops during my time in the service.” He passed the butter to her. “Top secret,” he said with a grin. “I can tell you, but then…” He made a slicing movement across his neck.

She laughed in between bites. “Got it.”

“This is delicious.” His blue eyes darkened to that distracting shade of sapphire again, and she wondered if she was brave enough to ask him what he was thinking about. “I normally don’t like peppers, but the yellow and orange ones taste different than the green ones.” He practically inhaled his pasta.

“Hungry?” she asked.

“I was.”

Her eyes sparkled with humor. “Growing up in the Mulcahy house, if you didn’t like what was on the table, you could either go hungry or find the peanut butter.”

“That’s kinder than my house. We ate what mom cooked. Period.”

“I think Pop was brought up that way too, but after mom died and he was doing the cooking, he gave us an option.”