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Authors: Gwynne Forster

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General

What Matters Most (22 page)

BOOK: What Matters Most
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“Plenty,” Jack said. “I didn’t bring her here, so I am not responsible for seeing that she gets home. You could as easily have had a party for sixteen instead of eighteen, and I could have spent the evening with a woman who interests me.”

“I can’t begin to tell you how disappointed I am,” Montague said. “She undoubtedly will expect more of a son who bears my name.”

Jack took a deep breath and counted to fourteen. He didn’t lose his temper with his father, and he was on the verge of it. “I had hoped you’d given up trying to orchestrate my private life, Dad, but it’s clear that you haven’t. Do you really think I’d be interested in Miranda Lucas or any woman like her? Are these social man-eaters the type of mother you want for your grandchildren?” He shook his head from side to side, puzzled at his father’s behavior. “Please let it lie.”

“She’s a good woman from one of the best families, and you’ll know she isn’t after your money.”

“If she’s got so much going for her, she shouldn’t have a problem finding a man and shouldn’t need anyone to arrange a blind date.”

“You heard what I said. She won’t be after your money.”

What was the use? He threw up his hands in frustration and disgust. “You think that, at my age, I’m so stupid I don’t know whether a woman cares for me or is merely posturing? Being able to discern that is precisely why I’m sick of the Elaines, Mirandas and other women in this social set. They check out a man’s credentials and go after him. Their feelings have nothing to do with their choice of a man.
Is he a good catch, and if I get him will other women envy me?
That’s their yardstick. Spare me. See you at lunch.”

He headed outside, breathed in the night air, polluted though it was, and handed his ticket to the valet. Yes, he would ordinarily have taken the woman home, but he didn’t like her and, moreover, he wanted to teach his father a lesson. He paced in front of the hotel, retracing his steps several times, as he waited for his car. By the time he got home, it was too late to call Melanie. He wondered what she thought about his having a Friday-night engagement that did not include her.

 

Melanie thought nothing of Jack’s Friday-night engagement until Tuesday morning when she received in the mail a copy of the newspaper containing the pictures taken at Montague Ferguson’s formal dinner party. She noted that the large manila envelope had no return address, and after a short debate with herself, she opened it.

“What’s this?” she asked aloud, as she scanned the front page of the paper’s society section. Her lower jaw dropped, and she found her way to the nearest chair and sat down. At least a dozen color pictures of Jack with the same woman. She figured the woman’s dress had cost at least two thousand dollars.

“She sure gave him plenty to look at,” Melanie said aloud, looking at the top of the dress that revealed the edge of the woman’s nipples. “So that’s what he was doing last Friday night.” She pitched the paper across the room. “Damn him. I don’t care what he does or who with.”

She went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, glanced out the window, saw two pigeons grooming each other and felt a lump in her throat.
Somebody sent me this, someone who knows my address, knows how I feel about Jack and wants it to stop.
She picked up the paper, folded it and replaced it in the envelope.

“I’ll see what Jack has to say about this.”

When he arrived at the office shortly after four o’clock that afternoon, he greeted her with a hug and kiss, and she reciprocated, but her heart wasn’t in it. He gazed down at her with a question in his eyes, and what seemed to her an expression of hurt.

“What is it, Melanie?”

“Uh…I’ll make you some coffee, and we’ll talk.”

“Forget the coffee. What’s the matter?”

She handed him the envelope. “I know you didn’t send this to me, but someone did, and that person wants me out of your life.”

He turned back to the door, secured the lock and took her hand. “Come in here with me,” he said, led her into his private office and closed the door. “Have a seat.”

He took the newspaper out of the envelope and looked at the pictures. “You know I didn’t send this to you. This was a dinner party that my father gave for eighteen people, including me, last Friday night. He asked me to come alone, because he wanted an even number of men and women. I left early, and he and I had some words.

“I thought then that he was matchmaking, but he didn’t stop there. I’m ashamed of what he did. This is a very juvenile prank.”

“You think he sent me these pictures?” she asked.

“Who else would have done it? I don’t think that woman knows you exist.”

“He doesn’t like me, and he’s going to do everything and anything he can to get me out of your life.”

“I don’t know, but I certainly am not pleased with this. He introduced me to that woman the minute I arrived and had already seated us together. I refused to take her home, and I left when the guests were still dancing and partying. He was very displeased.”

“Did you know her before Friday night?”

“I’d never seen her, but I know a dozen women like her, and they are not for me.”

Melanie wished she could understand why Montague Ferguson opposed her so strongly. “What was your mother like, Jack?”

“Oddly, you are very much like her in personality, outlook and values, and my dad was crazy about her. I can’t see why he would want less for me than he wanted for himself.”

“I have this feeling that I’m a wall between the two of you, and it shouldn’t be that way. I don’t like it.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I don’t have to choose between you. It will never come down to that.”

“You hope it won’t.”

Chapter 10

“Y
ou real quiet tonight, doc,” Vernie said to Jack when she topped his warm apple turnover with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

“Is that why you’re filling me with all these calories?”

“Well, I thought I could at least cheer you up with your favorite desert.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that, but I’m fine. Just had a decision to make. Thanks for a great meal. It was up to your usual high standard.” He patted her shoulder. At least one of them ought to be happy.

Bounding up the stairs, he was reminded of his childhood and his faith that his father stood for all that was good, right and just, a man whose integrity couldn’t be shaken. He didn’t understand the reason for his father’s zealous crusade against his son’s friendship with a woman similar to his own wife.

He can try as he might to torpedo our relationship, but I won’t let him win.
Jack walked into his den and stopped. Suppose his father made a move to oust Melanie from the clinic or even to demote her. No way would it happen. He would frustrate his dad by not mentioning those newspaper pictures to him, and he would protect Melanie’s position. He sat down at his desk and drafted a new contract for her signature. When he got to his Bolton Hill office the next morning, he phoned his lawyer and read the contract to him.

“Will this stand in court?” he asked.

“If it has both your signature and hers on it, yes. The stipulation that she’s head nurse is fine, but you should add a line that she answers only to the clinic’s director. I’ll run by and have a look at it.”

It hadn’t occurred to him that Melanie would balk at signing the contract. “Why do you want me to sign this? I have a two-year contract, and that’s good enough for me.”

“It’s not good enough for me. That contract was signed when you were an LPN and before I knew your level of competence. It’s only just that I take account of your status and abilities with a salary adjustment.”

She locked her knuckles to her hips, slanted her head to the side and let her gaze travel over him. “There’s more to this, Jack. Something’s going on, starting with the pictures in that paper, and I want to know what it is.”

He walked over to her, removed her hands from her hips and put them on his shoulders. “Either you trust me or you don’t. I did this in full consultation with my lawyer. We’ve built something in this community. You and I. Yes, you are as much responsible for it as I am, and I insist that you have the status and the recognition that are your due. Please sign this contract, Melanie.”

“What are you going to do when the clinic opens, Jack? It will be a different kind of operation.”

“I’ll be here two evenings a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays, and I’ll have a direct line from my Bolton Hill office to the clinic.”

“You may have to give up something. You’re only human.”

“Maybe, but I’ll never give up the clinic, not until I can no longer practice, and even then, I’ll direct it as long as my health permits. It’s the one good thing I’ve done with my life. Tell me you’re with me in this.” He took a pen from his pocket and handed it to her.

“All right. As long as I work here, I’ll know I’m doing some good, helping those who can’t help themselves, and that’s the reason why I wanted to be a nurse.” She signed the contract and handed it to him.

He released a long sigh of relief. “With you at the helm,” he said, “humanitarianism will always be the hallmark of our clinic.” He took her into his arms and wrapped her close to him. “Has it ever occurred to you that we belong together? Has it?”

“I don’t let myself engage in such fancy thinking, Jack. There’re too many problems.”

“When I encounter problems, I move them, Melanie. You and I care deeply for each other. I know you have a hard time accepting that fact, but it’s the truth. I’m getting to the point where I need a resolution to this. I need you in my arms and in my bed.”

She attempted to move away from him, and knowing her, that didn’t surprise him, but he held her. “We’re going to deal with it head-on, Melanie. You’re important to me entirely apart from this uniform you wear.” Her arms tightened around him, probably against her will, he figured. He told himself to keep it between the lines. In fifteen minutes, the first patient would ring the doorbell. “Kiss me, sweetheart.”

Her parted lips welcomed the thrust of his tongue, and she pulled him into her, greedily, hungry for him and not bothering to hide that fact. He broke the kiss and hugged her close.

“When did you last kiss a man other than me like that?” he asked her, gazing into eyes that said he could have whatever he wanted. “When?”

“Never!”

He gazed at her until she seemed to swim before him, teasing and tantalizing his senses. “I’m…I’ll m-make some coffee,” he stammered, and left her, shocked as he was by the realization that she could do anything with him that she wanted to.

He couldn’t say how he got through the next four hours. But with three emergencies and one nearly traumatized parent, Melanie went about her duties efficiently, calming the patients, even singing to one small boy until he lost his fear and wanted to follow her wherever she went. But Jack thought the evening would never end.

“What’s ailing you?” she asked when they had a moment alone.

“I’m managing to take care of the patients, but that’s about all.”

Her soft hands stroked the side of his face. “Are you tired?”

“Physically? Not a bit. Don’t worry. I’ll deal with it, and soon.” A quizzical expression flashed across her face. At first, he chided himself that he might have upset her.

He shrugged first his left shoulder and then his right one.
If I upset her, good. She’s one hundred percent responsible for the way I’m feeling right now, breezing around here as if I didn’t exist, as if she didn’t knock the starch out of me and then stroll over to the door and open it to these patients. What ails me? She does. Dammit. But I’m putting a stop to this.

 

Two days later, Melanie stepped out of Jack’s Town Car and gazed up at the house that was, by any measure, a mansion. Until she’d agreed to spend the weekend with Jack at the Harrington home, she hadn’t known that the hamlet of Eagle Park existed. Everywhere, she saw symbols of wealth. The perfectly manicured lawns and hedges, a custom-built Town Car and a Lexus in the circular driveway. The house itself was reminiscent of antebellum mansions of an earlier era.

Jack opened the trunk of his car, removed their bags, walked with her to the front door and lifted the knocker. When he looked down at her and smiled, she knew with certainty that, if she wasn’t careful, her life would change before she left there. The door opened.

“Hi, Dr. Ferguson,” a small voice said. “I was waiting for you.”

“It’s time you got here,” an older man said in what was obviously an affectionate greeting. They stepped inside the house and, after shaking hands with Henry, Jack hunkered beside the little girl.

“Hi, Tara. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.”

“Me, too, Dr. Ferguson.” The little girl looked at Melanie. “You must be Dr. Ferguson’s girl. My mommy said he was bringing you. She wants to meet you.” Melanie looked down at the little girl and couldn’t help smiling at her expectant expression. Completely disarmed, she bent, put her arms around the child and hugged her.

“I’m glad to meet you, Tara. I couldn’t have had a more pleasant welcome. I’m Melanie Sparks.”

“Hi, Ms. Sparks.”

Still holding Tara, Melanie glanced up at Jack and caught him with his feelings raw, but he recovered quickly.

“Henry Wilkerson, this is Melanie Sparks. Melanie, Henry is surrogate father to the Harrington men.”

She extended her hand to him. “I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Wilkerson.”

“And I’m glad to meet you. It’s been years since I heard meself addressed by the name Wilkerson. Call me Henry.”

A tall man walked up to the door and said, “Well, so you’re Melanie. I’m delighted to meet you and to have you here. I’m Telford Harrington. My wife is getting the baby to sleep. She’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“I’m delighted to meet you, Mr. Harrington.” She looked up at the man and couldn’t help smiling inwardly. No wonder Jack liked the Harringtons; he and the two brothers she’d met were cut from the same cloth. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you and your family. Jack fell in love with your daughter, and I can see why.”

BOOK: What Matters Most
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