Lora scribbled Dr. Reed’s name and phone number on a scrap of paper and shoved it into her mother’s hands. An hour later, greenhouse chores complete and overnight bag packed, she pulled out of the driveway just as a kid in a red convertible pulled in.
Victor Reed lived in a sprawling split-level house on the outskirts of town. The huge yard was beautifully designed with towering trees and lush foliage, including masses of late-blooming rhododendrons, but everything was overgrown. Lora guessed that Dr. Reed’s wife had been in charge of the upkeep.
Her mother was a gardening wizard!
Two cats, one gray and white and the other coal-black, sat on the front porch, smack in front of the door. A riot of barking ensued at the sound of Lora’s knock. She tried the knob. Two large dogs charged outside as the two cats darted inside. Lora juggled her suitcase and the flower arrangement as the dogs sniffed and wagged.
She had to yell. “Hello?”
“Back here,” Dr. Reed called.
The big yellow dogs came back inside with Lora. A third dog came charging down the hallway—this one shaggy and about the size of a toaster oven. After a noncommittal growl, he licked her suitcase.
The same sense of good taste gone to seed permeated the house. Apparently, Dr. Reed had let the whole shebang get away from him. Well, she had a cure for that, didn’t she? Over the weekend, she’d get her mother to come over to help weed and casually introduce her to Dr. Reed. They’d stare into each other’s eyes. Mom would see an older man with laugh lines and a gentle heart and Dr. Reed would see an attractive middle-aged woman with great legs and a ready smile. The scenario played itself out in Lora’s head.
All that was left was to find grandma a match!
The dogs led Lora to a smallish room with dark leather furniture and shelf upon shelf of books. A big desk sat in one corner, but Dr. Reed was sprawled on a recliner, his bandaged foot out in front, a blanket thrown over the rest of him. A different cat, this one pure white, slept on his lap. His crutches were on the floor beside his chair and a muted television flashed light into the room.
“You came just in time,” Dr. Reed said. “I’m about to starve to death. Maybe you could order us a pizza.”
“Or maybe I could just fix something,” Lora said.
“Jess did the shopping. All she bought was real food.”
“Real food?”
“As opposed to the stuff you can throw in the microwave. Can you cook?”
Stepping over the dogs that had settled on the rug, she put his flowers on the desk and dumped her suitcase out of the way. “Can I cook?” she scoffed. “Point the way to your kitchen.”
Dr. Reed’s sister had indeed stocked the refrigerator and within half an hour, Lora had stir-fried shrimp and asparagus and cooked a pot of jasmine rice. She made a tray for the both of them and took it back to the den. All the animals had settled close to Dr. Reed. In unison, they looked up as the aroma of food wafted across the room.
“Kick them out into the backyard,” he said as she set the tray on a low table. “Just shake the treat jar by the back door, they’ll come running. Don’t worry, the yard is fenced. Boy, I’m sure glad you’re used to animals.”
Not those who actually had feet, she thought. Sure enough, the furry critters showed up with the first rattle of their treat jar. By the time she returned to the den, Dr. Reed was in the process of spearing a shrimp. “Who knew you could cook like this?” he said after tasting it. “You’re so young.”
“My mother taught me,” Lora said. “She’s a great cook. It’s incredible she’s kept her figure.”
“She sounds like an amazing woman.”
“Oh, she is,” Lora gushed.
He smiled at her and they chatted while they ate. She discovered he’d been widowed for several years, that all his pets were former patients their owners had abandoned in one way or another and that he had a delightful attitude about life. In other words, he was the total opposite of her father. Lora beamed. Her mother was going to love this guy.
Lora felt so at home that when the doorbell rang she jumped up without waiting for Dr. Reed to ask her to get it. Through the glass panel, she could see Jon Woods standing on the porch, a duffel bag in his hand, an impatient look on his face.
What was he doing here?
She had half a mind to pretend no one was home, but that was stupid, he could see the Lora Dunes Florist van out front. That duffel bag was ominous, however, so steeling herself against his disdain, she opened the door.
“Where are the dogs?” he said.
What a greeting! It was obvious he was still suspicious of her. Lora smiled and said, “I poisoned them and buried them in the backyard. Want to see?”
He groaned and shook his head.
Had she really known him for just this one day, and how had he gone from being so nice to being so annoyed in such a short time?
Was it because she wasn’t trying to make him like her? If so, it was obvious her own true personality wasn’t exactly magic when it came to the opposite sex. The blasted sweater probably didn’t help much, either. She vowed to get rid of it. Dating or not, a girl had her pride.
“What can I do for you?” she asked him.
“Not a thing,” he said, and walked right past her into the house. His familiarity with the place was evident in the way he went directly to the den. Lora closed the door and followed him. He looked good from the back, his body strong and tall, his shoulders broad. He wore faded jeans and a black T-shirt and cross trainers on his feet. He had a way of walking that looked masculine and physically fit. That walk reminded her of Calvin. He walked the same way, with a subdued bounce, full of confidence, full of sass. Full of himself.
Dr. Reed greeted Jon with genuine warmth. “It’s a shame you missed dinner,” he said.
“I stopped off for a sandwich,” John told him. “Where are the dogs?”
“In the backyard. Lora has a way with them. Well, it’s too bad you ate. I think it only fair that as Lora got here first, she gets dibs on which bedroom she wants.”
“You knew he was coming?” Lora asked.
“Of course. After you left today, Jon pointed out how much more useful he would be with some of the more personal aspects of my care, like bathing.”
Though this was undoubtedly true, Lora glared at Jon.
“Happy to be of help,” Jon said. His voice was nothing but sincere, but the challenging scowl he leveled at Lora said it all. “In fact, Victor,” he added, “why don’t we let Lora go home? I’m sure she has better things to do than hang around with a couple of veterinarians.”
Lora came close to punching him.
“Absolutely not,” Dr. Reed said just in time. “Lora and I made a deal. Besides, her mother taught her to cook. Imagine, asparagus and shrimp with ginger and garlic—well, she’s a whiz.
