Luke shook his head. “So, do I even have employment anymore? Or did you tell the general what a bad guy I was just so I’d go home?”
Hawk grinned, leaning back against the rail. “Actually, you’re getting a paid leave of absence. At least until you make up your mind.”
Luke frowned, annoyed that his luck had finally run out. He also wasn’t thrilled with the breezy way in which his life was being decided for him. “And the general and his daughters?”
Jellyfish smiled. “We’ve agreed to take over here until a replacement for you can be found. The general said it shouldn’t be too hard.”
Luke stood. “Just great. A year of my life and I’m not that hard to replace.”
Hawk shrugged. “Depends upon whose opinion you’re interested in, I would imagine. Someone might think you’re worth a hell of a lot. Then again, maybe not. Guess only you know that.”
Jellyfish nodded. “The answer lies within.”
Luke gave each man a sharp look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Jellyfish shook his head. “Would you like an escort to Tulips?”
“You mean a guard?” Luke snorted. “I think I can manage it. Thanks, pals.”
They grinned, setting themselves up on the deck. “You can borrow our little bicycle there,” Hawk offered. “You just ride up into town and a fishing boat can take you back to the big island to catch a plane. You can be home by this weekend. The sun is heavenly here, isn’t it, buddy?”
Luke ignored that, and went to pack his things. Boiling anger rolled through him. Of all the stinking tricks his old man had to pull, sending goons after him was the worst. He would have gone home eventually…one day.
No, I wouldn’t. I never want to see Tulips again, or anyone who lives there.
“Just peachy,” he muttered to himself, hopping out of the boat with his few belongings and giving his new “friends” a rude gesture. They laughed, and Luke privately cursed the general for so easily giving him up.
This was not his definition of being lucky.
ONCE PEPPER HAD introduced her children to the Triple F and let them settle in for a few days, she quietly—over Duke’s and Zach’s protests—moved them into the small home she’d bought. Pepper wanted to make the move together, she and the boys sleeping under one roof for the first time in Tulips as a family, so they would know that she’d bought the house for them. The house was made of red brick with white shutters, of a typical ranch style, and close to the clinic. She loved it, and so far, it seemed Toby and Josh did, too. There were bedrooms for all of them—even one for Aunt Jerry, once she came to stay—room to spread out and a huge backyard.
Either Duke or Zach stopped by every day, picking up the boys to run errands with them. They had a thousand excuses for spending time with their nephews. This gave Pepper time to clean the clinic and establish her practice, but most importantly, it gave her time to think about what she’d told the boys over the years about their father.
She’d been as honest about Luke as possible, deciding that the truth always came back to haunt a person. Carefully, she told the boys—when they asked—that their father hadn’t been ready for marriage, nor had she. She also admitted that she hadn’t told Luke about them. One day, when the time was right, she promised, they would find him and tell him.
Toby and Josh had been all right with that, somehow understanding that she was genuinely trying to act in their best interests to the utmost of her ability. As a doctor, she’d presented the facts gently; as a mother, she’d waited anxiously for tears, recriminations, bitterness.
The boys had simply taken the information into their hearts, knowing that one day they would meet their father.
Pepper glanced around the clinic. It was freshly painted and all her diplomas and certifications had been hung. She was proud of what she had accomplished. If she could make a go of this, she hoped to bring on a pediatric specialist in the future and maybe enlarge the clinic. Tulips deserved a good medical complex. That, as much as good schools, would bring people to their town, she figured. Moreover, she wanted to be able to take care of folks who had given her so much over the years.
Maybe she’d even have a door made for her clinic just like the beautiful one that welcomed visitors to the Tulips Saloon. People liked calming, pretty things when they visited a doctor, and a matching door would be symbolic. There were a lot of connected hearts in this town, and Pepper intended to honor them.
She locked the door and headed over to Holt’s salon.
“Hey,” he said, looking up from a magazine. “You’re right on time.”
“This time,” she said, sliding into the chair. “I love the clinic. The boys love the house. Thank you for helping me find them.”
Holt grinned, running a hand through Pepper’s tangled, auburn mop. “Let’s find something gorgeous here, okay? How long has it been since you’ve had a complete style?”
Pepper looked at herself in the mirror, smiling at the mess Holt was examining with somewhat concealed disdain. “Long enough. I’ve been busy.”
“Yes. Now that you’re back in town, you can slow down a bit. Your hair is telling on you.” He began combing out her locks, and Pepper sighed with pleasure. “If our hair is our nod to the day, I hear you may be needing a real brave new look.”
She looked at him in the mirror. “Are we going to share our little gossip?”
He smiled. “Perhaps. There was a council meeting the other night after you introduced your boys.”
“Oh? I’m not surprised.”
“All I’m saying is be on the lookout.” Holt flashed his scissors. “I can’t say more than that, but I do feel that a friendly heads-up is in order.”
“Could you clarify?”
He sighed. “Not really. You’re a Tulipian. You know how it works around here. Still, you’ve been gone long enough that you might have forgotten, so I’m just reminding you.”
“Should I be worried? Is it about the boys?”
“No.” Holt gave her a reassuring grin. “Not in the sense you’re thinking. Everyone here is glad you brought them home. But you know that, around here, love is equated with trying to be helpful.”
“Well, as long as it’s well-meaning….” She wondered what to make of Holt’s secretive expression.
“It always is, my dear.” He smiled. “It always is.”
She wasn’t sure that made her feel a whole lot better.
ON A CLEAR SUNDAY EVENING, at an hour when most people should be snuggled up in their beds or in front of their televisions, Luke McGarrett returned to Tulips. He was looking for zero fanfare and no welcoming committee.
Of course, he wouldn’t get one, anyway.
The taxi driver sped away, glad to get back to Dallas. Luke
