the lid when the phone rang.
“It’s Brynn,” her friend said when MJ answered. “I checked the local hospitals. No admissions for any of your folks.”
“Thanks, Brynn. I owe you.”
MJ replaced the receiver in its cradle. Brynn’s news gave her little reassurance. If a member of MJ’s family had suffered an illness or injury serious enough to require a trauma unit, they’d have been transported to the Greenville hospital. Or her mother could be hospitalized in Asheville.
MJ tugged on the clothes she’d removed earlier and called a cab. Anxiety overrode her anger toward Nana for leaving such a cryptic message. In just a few hours MJ would be in Pleasant Valley again. For the first time since she had left after college, she was actually looking forward to returning to the boring, sleepy little town, if only to settle her fears.
EXHAUSTION temporarily overcame her foreboding. The flight attendant’s voice, announcing their imminent arrival in Greenville, awoke MJ. With consciousness, her anxiety returned in a rush.
As soon as the plane taxied to a stop, MJ grabbed her camera bag from the overhead compartment and headed for the exit. Within minutes she was striding across the concourse toward the baggage carousels.
Suddenly strong hands grasped her shoulders from behind and swung her around.
“Merrilee June. Long time, no see.” The rich, deep voice initiated a cascade of memories, all pleasurable; ones she’d worked hard to forget.
She glanced up at Grant Nathan, who’d intercepted her. If bad luck came in bundles, here was walking proof. For six years she’d managed to avoid him, had worked hard to push him from her mind. Now she tried to stop the corresponding flutter of her heart. She might as well have attempted to stop its beating.
If anything, the vet was even more attractive than she’d remembered, exuding enough self-confidence and masculinity to make any woman’s heart stutter. She’d forgotten how tall he was, well over six feet, and his practice as a country vet, tramping through fields, lifting small animals and maneuvering cows and horses for treatment, had given him a physique few personal trainers could replicate. In spite of her efforts not to, she remembered too well how many times she’d nestled her head against those broad shoulders and how comforting the embrace of his strong arms had been.
Six years had added a maturity that sat well on the strong planes of his tanned face. Tiny lines from laughter and squinting in the bright sun framed bourbon-brown eyes flecked with gold. A few premature strands of gray, threaded through his thick honey-colored hair at the temples, were the only visible signs of his thirty-four years. His dimpled grin displayed the same boyish charm and reminded MJ too well of the many times those lips had kissed hers.
She shoved aside the memories, whose pull had been both the driving force and the toughest part of her decision to leave Pleasant Valley for good. “What are you doing here, Grant? Taking a trip?”
He held her by the shoulders with strong but gentle hands, and his gaze searched her face, as if in assessment. “I’m on an errand of mercy. Your grandmother sent me to pick you up.”
MJ wiggled from his grasp before she succumbed to the desire to snuggle against him, as she had so often in the old days. Those times were gone forever. “You’ve wasted a trip. I’m renting a car.”
“Mrs. McDonough said there’s no need. And she doesn’t want you driving while you’re agitated.”
MJ’s temper soared. “I’d be a lot less agitated if I knew what the hell is going on.” Already worried sick about her folks, she resented having to struggle with old feelings for Grant Nathan, too. “Besides, I’ll need a car of my own, so you might as well leave.”
Grant shook his head. “You grandmother said you can use hers. She doesn’t drive much these days.”
MJ’s breath caught in her throat. “Nana’s all right?”
“Feisty as ever,” Grant said with a grin.
“Then what’s the family emergency she called me about?” Her anger flared again, and a sneaking suspicion kicked in. “This isn’t just a ploy to lure me home, is it?”
MJ wouldn’t put it past Nana to play at matchmaking, but surely even her persistent grandmother recognized that what MJ had shared with Grant was long over.
Grant’s expression sobered. He glanced across the concourse as if to avoid her gaze. “I don’t know if emergency is the word I’d use, but you’re definitely needed here.”
MJ’s knees went weak and she sank onto the nearest seat. “My mom? Dad? Are they okay?”
“They’re not sick or injured, if that’s what you’re asking.” Again he evaded her eyes.
“But they’re okay?” she insisted.
Grant looked ill at ease. “I promised your grandmother I’d let her fill you in.”
MJ crossed her arms over her chest and set her jaw. “I’ve been up all night, I’m worried out of my mind, and I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong. Something is wrong, isn’t it?”
“Merrilee June—”
“I’m MJ now.”
Grant’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Why?”
“So I don’t sound like a character from Gone With the Wind,” MJ said irritably. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong or not?”
“MJ,” Grant said with a grimace, as if the nickname left a bad taste in his mouth, “you know I won’t go back on my word to your grandmother.”
“A thousand horrible possibilities are driving me crazy! Don’t you feel any loyalty to me?”
His expression darkened. “As I recall, you cut me loose from any obligation six years ago.”
MJ’s panic meter was registering overload. She grabbed Grant by the biceps and attempted to shake him. She might as well have tried to move a tree. “Then for old times’ sake, please tell me what’s wrong.”
Her voice, loud and frantic, traveled across the concourse, drawing stares from other travelers.
“Calm down, Merrilee June, or I’ll have to go to my truck for horse tranquilizers.”
“Calm down!” Her voice rose an octave. “How calm would you be in my place?”
“The sooner we get going, the sooner your grandmother can fill you in,” Grant said, so reasonably she wanted to hit him. “I’ve already told you it’s not a life-and-death matter. Cat and Jim couldn’t be healthier. Sally Mae will explain the rest.”
Admitting defeat, MJ released her grip. She’d forgotten how stubborn Grant could be. Not actually forgotten, she realized. She’d simply relegated everything about him to the back of her mind. When she’d first moved to New York, that tactic was the only way she’d survived missing him.
“Is that all your luggage?” Grant nodded toward her camera bag.
MJ
