For a second, she thought about Jon Woods and his ploy to get her phone number, and she felt a smile threaten to emerge. She wiped the smile away with a firm wave of resolve. Sure he was interesting and as sexy as all get out. It wasn’t that she was blind to his attributes, she reminded herself, she was just on the mend. It wasn’t wise to flit from relationship to relationship like some dazed bumble bee.
But Jon is local, an animal doctor, a man with roots like your own, her subconscious needled. Maybe you should let down your guard a little and get to know him.…
No. Concentrate on Mom and Gram. There’ll be time to investigate Jon Woods in the months to come.
She checked the fax machine to see how behind they were. Not bad. After making a couple of calls to confirm which hospital Dr. Reed was at she quickly put together a suitable arrangement and made it out the door again without being detected.
At the nurses’ station, she discovered Dr. Reed’s surgery had been two days before, which was terrific news. Surely he’d be well on the way to recovery by now and perhaps a little lonely. Lonely people liked to chat, even to florists. She told the busy nurses she’d deliver the flowers herself. A few moments later, she got her first glimpse of her prospective stepfather.
Dr. Reed, lying in his bed, glanced up from a book the moment Lora came through the door. The first thing she noticed about him were the color of his eyes, a perfect match for grape hyacinths. A neatly trimmed beard and a full head of sterling silver hair accompanied the eyes—the man looked like the captain of a cruise ship!
“More flowers?” he said.
There were no other flowers in the room. “You bet. Where would you like them?”
“Who are they from?”
She’d thought of that. Picking out the card she read, “Says here they’re from your friends at the Animal Clinic.” She handed him the card and he studied it for a moment.
“Those guys really went overboard. I told my sister to take the other bouquets because I’m getting out this afternoon. Just put those by the window.”
No aging girlfriend to schlep his flowers? Good.
“I’d be happy to deliver them to your house,” she said, still holding the flowers and excited about the prospect of seeing how and where he lived.
“I couldn’t ask—”
“I insist,” she said. “So, you’re going home. Are you thrilled?”
His eyes twinkled. “You bet.”
“It’ll be good to sit down in your own house with a fat cigar and a stiff drink, right?” Was that too obvious a prying question?
Apparently not. “Never have smoked though I do enjoy the occasional glass of red wine,” he said, settling comfortably against his pillows. “They say it keeps you young.”
“Looks as though it’s working,” she said with a grin.
He laughed. He had a nice laugh. “Now, what’s a pretty girl like you doing flirting with an old goat like me?”
She laughed, too. She liked this guy. Hope began to flutter in her chest, and it wasn’t just selfish hope anymore. Her mother deserved happiness, deserved to be with someone ten years older and wiser than she.
Lora said, “Do you live with your sister?”
“Oh, no,” he said amiably. “Jess is married and has her own home. No, since my wife died and our two sons moved to the east coast, I live alone.”
Lora gestured at his bandaged foot, which lay outside the covers. “How are you going to handle getting around by yourself?”
“Crutches.”
“They can be difficult to get the hang of.”
“Well, Jess will come by during the day and I’ll be okay at night.”
Genuinely concerned, she wrinkled her brow. “You’ll be all alone? What if there’s a fire? How will you manage by yourself? You should hire someone to stay with you. It’s dangerous to be alone.”
“Sounds as if you’re in cahoots with my doctor and my sister, young lady.”
“My name is Lora Gifford,” she said, shifting the arrangement to her left arm and offering her right hand. She’d taken an immediate liking to this man and had big plans for his future that required him getting back on his feet ASAP. Her mother loved to dance.
He shook her hand. “Well, Lora, it’s really no big deal. I don’t mind being by myself.”
No one to stay the night meant no girlfriend, right?
Let’s see, she’d covered obvious bad habits, availability, appearance and charm. Was there anything else?
He looked from her to the card that had come with the flowers and back again. “Lora Gifford? Are you George Gifford’s daughter?”
“You know my dad?”
“I used to fish with him years ago, back when my boys were just kids. He owned the Lora Dunes flower shop which I just realized he must have named after you.”
“Me and the beach.”
“I’ll be. I remember seeing you with your mother a couple of times. You were four or five years old. Your mother was a beauty. Jet black hair, emerald eyes…you look just like her.”
“She’s still beautiful,” Lora said fondly, wishing she did look like her mother, knowing she’d inherited her grandmother’s demure stature and her father’s nose. “She and dad are divorced now, but Mom’s doing great.”
“Well, I’ll be,” he mused, his eyes thoughtful. “Where is your dad?”
“Down in San Diego, fishing his heart out.”
“I’m sorry about him and your mother.”
Lora said, “It’s okay. They’re both happier now.”
“And how about you? Married? Kids?”
“No, neither.”
“I didn’t think so, but so many young women keep their maiden name now and don’t wear rings, you just never know.”
While Dr. Reed seemed to study Lora, she chewed on her lip. Was it really possible this man was as decent as he seemed to be? Appearances could be so deceiving, and first impressions were worthless in the long haul. Besides, it wasn’t as though she had a good track record with men, young or old or in-between. No way was she going to jeopardize her mother’s out-of-practice heart on a guy whose pleasant manners hid the soul of a cad. She needed more information.…
She said, “Dr. Reed, I have an idea. Sometimes I hire out for odd jobs. You know, to make ends meet. I could come to your house after work. At least there’d be someone there at night in case a fire started or…something.”
He
