be fine.” In fact, now was a good time for him to go. Even though the dog was young and likely a firsttime mama, nature would tell her what to do. But he hadn’t missed Darcy’s reaction when he had first told her the dog was having puppies. Her face had gone white, and she’d looked ready to faint. What if Darcy actually did pass out and the dog needed help? Sticking around and making sure the delivery went smoothly was part of his job.
Joining Darcy in the small, intimate kitchen for tea was not part of his job, but even as the warning was drifting through his mind, Nick stepped closer and accepted the cup. His jeans were weighted down by mud, clinging uncomfortably to his skin, and his shirt was soaked through, thanks to the rain. It might have been the end of July, but the sudden storm had dropped the temperature, and he took a minute to warm his hands around the mug. “Thanks.”
“I should be thanking you. I’m sure you had better things to do than make a house call on a night like tonight.”
Nick shrugged. “Comes with the territory.”
“So what’s it like?” Darcy had stripped off her jacket at some point, revealing a pale green knit sweater that hugged the curves of her breasts, but still wore the dark, wide-legged jeans. Her feet were bare, cherry-red toenails peeking out from beneath the mud-splattered hem. He tried not to notice how small and delicate they were, just as he tried not to notice how his own scuffed and scarred size-eleven work boots had tracked mud across the white tile floors.
Darcy leaned back against the butcher block counter, her hands cradling her own mug. Her gaze was open and interested, easily sucking him in until he could barely remember what she’d even asked. “What’s what like?”
“Being a small-town vet?”
Small town. Two simple words that had his hackles standing on end. Yeah, that was what Carol had accused him of being more times than he could count, and the insult had hurt. But Carol had been his wife. He’d felt frustrated and at a loss to keep her happy, and he’d failed her as a husband with his lack of ambition to move to a big city where he could make more money.
Darcy, though, was a stranger, a woman he’d just met. What difference did it make how small town she thought he was?
“I love it,” he answered, a hint of defensiveness undercutting his words. “Ever since I was a kid, it’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.”
“Really?”
Nick’s lips twisted. “You sound surprised.” Like she couldn’t understand how he wouldn’t want something more.
“Not surprised. I guess, I’d say … envious.”
“Envious?”
Darcy shrugged. “That you’ve always known without a doubt what you wanted to do.”
He’d always known what he wanted, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t questioned what was best for his family. After Carol left, he’d gone to see her in San Francisco, willing to give up everything—his house, his practice, his hometown—to keep their family together. Only to discover his everything still wasn’t enough for her.
“Yeah, I’m just lucky that way.”
He wasn’t sure what he’d given away with that comment, but Darcy’s expression softened and she searched his face as if looking for some way inside him. That was not a place he wanted her, so he quickly asked, “What about you?”
He racked his memory for what he’d heard about her reasons for moving to Clearville. He was pretty sure he’d heard his sister, Sophia, talking about the woman renting the space two doors down from The Hope Chest. “You’re opening a shop in town, right?”
As she went on to explain her boutique, a place where she would offer women advice on makeup, skin care and beauty treatments as well as sell the products along with candles and soaps in every scent imaginable, some of his skepticism must have shown on his face. “Why do I get the feeling,” she asked, “that you’re not going to be my first customer?”
Nick shrugged. “Sorry. It’s just—Well, I’ve seen this all before.”
Darcy set her mug on the counter with a dull thud. “Someone else has a shop like mine?”
“Not a shop just like it, but that spot you rented? It’s gone through more changes in the past few years than I can remember. A dress shop, a shoe store, a health food clinic. Nothing stays open for long.”
“So, you’re telling me that the shop I’ve rented has some kind of Clearville Curse attached to it?” Darcy wiggled her fingers in a spooky motion, her teasing smile enough to jerk a rough half laugh out of Nick. But then a rush of heat surged through him when he remembered those same fingers pressed into his shoulders, and he quickly sobered.
“Not a curse, and it’s not just Clearville, either. I’m sure it happens in small towns all over the place. Big-city folks get tired of the traffic and noise and fast pace of the city, so they go off seeking peace and quiet in some small town. Only before they’ve had the chance to even unpack, they start to miss all those same things they left behind. Before you know, they’re gone without a word.”
Darcy wasn’t unaware of the chance she’d taken, and a string of failed stores could give a location a bad rap. Plus, starting a new business was always a risk, especially in this economy. But for as long as she could recall, her mother had talked about moving back to her hometown, only to never have the chance.
Darcy refused to miss her opportunity by waiting for the perfect moment. Instead she was going to make the most of the time she had now. Not that she was counting on blind faith to see her through. She’d done her research. Clearville was a small town, but one with a healthy tourist trade, catering to travelers who came to enjoy the surrounding redwoods, the rugged coastline, the days-gone-by feel of the Victorian Main Street.
The town had its share of bed-and-breakfasts, and Darcy had already arranged for a few of those businesses to carry her beauty baskets in their gift shops. She hoped to start up a buzz about The Beauty Mark before her grand opening.
“Maybe those other shops closed for a reason,” she suggested.
“Such as?”
“So that the space would be available for me.”
Nick stared at her as if he couldn’t quite believe she was for real, and Darcy doubted she’d be able to explain her certainty in the move she’d made. Because even though she’d struggled with turn-of-the-last-century plumbing, ghostly electricity and a car that had turned into a lemon at the stroke of midnight, she refused to allow any of it to shake her faith that she was right where she was supposed to be.
Darcy’s only regret was that her mother wasn’t there with her, but she felt her presence in every decision she made. From their long-ago conversations as they’d imagined the perfect look and feel of the shop to the recent, far-more-practical hand Alanna had given her only child—the life insurance policy that made the dream a reality.
“I would think,” she told Nick, “if anyone would understand, you might.”
Nick’s dark brows arched toward his hairline. Clearly he thought he’d be the last person to understand anything about her. “Me?”
“Yes, you said being a vet,
