Chapter Seven
This was not happening.
Unclenching her teeth, Heather Fitzgerald called up the sweet smile that had gotten her out of so many scrapes in the past. “But you don’t understand. All this—” she motioned at the large moving truck “—wasn’t supposed to be here until Wednesday. This is Monday.”
“Lady, you’re the one who don’t understand,” the driver retorted in a manner that clearly announced he couldn’t have cared any less. “I start in Cincy, then make a loop around four different states before I head back home. Sometimes it takes me a week, sometimes more’n that. This time, it took less, and I’m here now. If you want your load delivered later, I should be coming through here again in two or three weeks. But it’ll cost you to store this stuff at our facility till then, and I can’t make you any promises about when it’ll actually show up.”
After four years in college and four more slaving away day and night to get her veterinary degree, Heather had become adept at scheduling her life to the nth degree and keeping everything on track. It was midway through April, and the past few months had wreaked havoc with her normally precise planning. Somehow, using grit and bullish determination, she’d managed to squeak through with her sanity intact. Most of it, anyway.
So, because she was desperate, she decided it was time to try a different tactic. While she was far from the helpless female he obviously assumed her to be, she figured it couldn’t hurt to appeal to his male pride. Pulling out her phone, she called up her ace in the hole.
“I hate to be a pest about this, but I really can’t let these things be shuttled off to who-knows-where. My niece—” she showed him a picture of five-year-old Bailey “—has been living out of her suitcase since we arrived in town this past weekend. She became an orphan recently, and it’s very important that she feels at home here as soon as possible.”
“I’ve heard every story in the book,” he grumbled, but he gave the screen a cursory glance before frowning. “I think you’re yanking my chain about her being your niece. She looks just like you.”
“Of course she does,” Heather snapped, dangerously close to being out of patience. “Her father was my brother.”
She could tell by the softening of his features that he was beginning to waver. Rubbing his neck, he said, “I’d like to help you, but I got other people’s things on here, too, y’know.”
“Come on, man” came a mellow drawl from behind her. “Give the lady a break.”
Turning, she found herself nose-to-chest with a dark green T-shirt sporting an embroidered running horse over script that read Gallimore Stables—Oaks Crossing, Kentucky. As her gaze traveled upward, it connected with the bluest pair of eyes she’d ever seen in her life. Set in a tanned face that showed evidence of plenty of outdoor time, they crinkled when her rescuer smiled and held out a large hand covered in scars. “You must be Dr. Fitzgerald. I’m Josh Kinley, your new boss’s little brother.”
He was hardly little, she thought. Well over six feet tall, he had the rangy build of someone who spent his days working hard. Wearing a wide-open expression and a quick smile, he was nothing like the pale, stressed-out men she’d spent most of the last few years with. Then again, they’d all been studying their brains out, just like her. “I wasn’t expecting a welcoming committee, but it’s nice to meet you.”
“Same here. The rescue center’s been without a bona fide vet for over a year now. We’re all real glad you accepted Erin’s offer to come down here.”
“It’s a great situation for me, too. Especially since it included an apartment.” Sure, it was above a pet supply store called Pampered Paws, but it had two bedrooms and would have come furnished if she hadn’t had her own furniture. That reminded her of her current predicament, and she cast a look over her shoulder at her neatly labeled boxes, sitting just out of reach in the back of the truck. So close, and yet so far—that seemed to be the story of her life these days. “For now, I have to figure out how to get our stuff unloaded so this man can leave on time.”
“I might be able to help you with that.”
“How? Some of that furniture is pretty heavy.”
“No doubt.” Giving her a you-can-count-on-me grin, he sauntered over to where the driver was standing with his hands in his pockets. “So, where’d you start out this morning?”
“Louisville. Why?”
“That’s a ways from here. You’ll find the best breakfast in three counties at the Oaks Café,” Josh replied smoothly, nodding toward the restaurant next door. “Give us half an hour, and your meal’s on me.”
“Well...” Thinking it over, the mover scratched his thumb over his chin. “Okay. Thanks.”
“You help me, I help you,” Josh told him with a grin. “That’s how we do things around here.”
Exactly why she’d taken this job, Heather mused as the driver waved on his way into the diner. Her job at a prestigious Detroit clinic had been a dream come true, but Bailey had been raised in a small town and hadn’t adjusted well to the culture shock of living in such an urban area. Although she hated to give up what she’d worked so hard to achieve, Heather instinctively knew that her niece would do best in the kind of environment she was accustomed to, surrounded by good, honest people who not only knew their neighbors but cared about what happened to them and their children.
It was the kind of childhood she and Craig had enjoyed. Thinking of her older brother still made her sad. As much as she missed him, she couldn’t begin to imagine how hard it was for Bailey, who’d lost her mother so young, he was the only parent she remembered having.
“Are you okay?” Josh asked, his brow creasing in a frown.
Oh, he was a sweetheart, this tall country boy with the rugged good looks. If she hadn’t been totally consumed with learning how to be a single parent and settling into her new position, he was exactly the kind of guy she could have gone for in a major way. But life was what it was, and Heather had no intention of allowing herself to get waylaid by distractions, no matter how hunky they might be.
“I’m just trying to figure out what you have in mind,” she said. “I’m no expert, but it seems to me that half an hour isn’t going to make much difference here.”
