Tennessee Vet. Carolyn McSparren
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furious at him for wallowing in grief for so long. From the little he had heard about the man, he strongly suspected John would have been just as annoyed at Barbara.
From the kitchen came a ding. Emma rocked her chair back into place. “Seth, darling, where have you hidden the forklift?”
The dinner was simple but tasty. Spaghetti Bolognese, a big salad, French bread and cheesecake. “The cheesecake is from the café in Williamston,” Emma admitted. “Seth knows I am no great shakes as a cook. But I’m trying.”
They all made appropriate complimentary noises. Without being asked, Barbara took over cleaning duties so that Emma could enjoy the company.
“May I help?” Stephen asked.
Emma shook her head. “I count as family. You still count as company. Go sit.”
“Are you sure?”
“Go. How’s the addition coming?” she called to the living room. “From here the kitchen looks pretty much finished.”
“Nearly,” Emma called back. “Seth’s mother, Laila, is going to try to come over this weekend to help get it all put back in order. Seth, why don’t you give them the grand tour?”
* * *
STEPHEN WAS SURPRISED how much of the construction had been finished fast. The nursery—buttercup-yellow, as Emma had said—was finished, complete with a crib and a roomy, plush rocking chair.
Barbara joined them as soon as she put the dishes into the dishwasher and scrubbed the counters.
“I never had a rocking chair that luxurious when John and I had our two,” Barbara said. “There was no way I could breast-feed and set up a new practice at the same time, let alone build the clinic and the barn with our apartment. John and I split feeding duties, and our old rocking chair felt comforting to the babies whoever was on bottle duty.”
“Where are your kids now?” Stephen asked. They clearly didn’t live with her. He would have noticed the signs during their shared meal.
“They both live in Nashville,” she said. “Mark works part-time as a sound engineer for some of the smaller groups that play there. It’s a crazy job, but he loves it. He wants to travel before he thinks about settling down, though. My daughter is in sales at a boutique hotel in Nashville and very much one of the young social set. She shows no sign of settling down, either.”
“Then we have something in common,” Stephen said. “My elder daughter, Elaine, worked in sales at The Peabody until she married. My younger daughter, Anne, works as a waitress and bartender to make enough money to support her horse. She’d love to make a full-time career as a horse trainer eventually...”
“But very few people can,” Barbara said. “My condolences. Horse-crazy daughters generally have fewer problems in adolescence, but speaking from experience, anything to do with horses is hard, expensive and time-consuming, and isolates you from the non-horse-crazy.”
When they came back from the short house tour, Barbara took one look at Emma and whispered, “She’s sound asleep. Time for us to go, Seth. Come on, Stephen.” Seth followed them out onto the front porch. Barbara stood on tiptoes and gave him a kiss. “I hope this new girl will work out for me. It’s time for Emma to cut her hours. And how about your hours?” she asked Seth. “Are you taking any more time off?”
“As much as I can, and I’m giving Earl most of the tough jobs that require traveling all over the county. Stephen, Earl’s my partner,” Seth explained. “We’re heading into black-powder season for deer hunting. That means more, rather than less, work. I’m like you, Barbara, pretty much on call all the time.”
Stephen waited on the porch while Seth helped Emma to move from the recliner to the bedroom, then walked across the street to his own little house. He’d considered inviting Barbara in for a final cup of coffee. But he assumed she’d decline.
He climbed into his truck and backed out of his driveway to follow her home. He’d never allowed a woman to reach her door unaccompanied in his life. His mother would have killed him.
He’d forgotten the motion-sensor lights. The moment he pulled his truck behind the clinic, the area was flooded with enough light to curtail a prison break.
An instant later, Barbara’s door flew open.
“Stephen, what on earth?” she said as he climbed out.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. May I say good night to Orville?” And maybe garner an invitation to come in for a cup of coffee?
Unlikely.
“Fine. Now that he’s in a cage in the barn, you don’t have to go into the clinic to visit him. Thank you, Stephen, for following me home. If you don’t mind, I’m off to bed.”
And she was.
He found Orville, who waked instantly and made a sleepy attempt at a squeal before tucking his head under his sound wing and subsiding back into sleep.
“Good night, big guy. May you dream of field mice scampering around just waiting to be gobbled up. I, on the other hand, will dream about being invited to Barbara’s for coffee one day.”
IT WASN’T TOO late for Stephen to call Anne at home in Memphis. Although she would love to get an apartment, her horse was a drain on her income, and Stephen had never charged her any rent. She had a separate apartment on the third floor. He’d been grateful to have someone in the big old place with him, someone to have breakfast with once in a while. Between horses and her two jobs, she had very little free time.
He only saw Elaine on the occasional Sunday. Now that he could no longer play golf, his Sunday afternoons were free. But Elaine’s visits were pity calls—always short and usually boring. He and Elaine had never had anything in common. Nina swore that Elaine had been born judgmental, and he was most often in her crosshairs. He liked Roger, her husband, who was a lawyer for several large Memphis-based corporations, but again, they had very little in common. Roger tended to pontificate about ideas that Stephen considered to the right of Nero and spent as many hours of his weekend as Elaine allowed him playing golf.
His own two had taught him that most adults had no respect for children. They might love them but refused to admit that sometimes children had a right to be irate when parents did things like get divorces. He often did not agree with Anne and Elaine, but he had always respected their opinions, even when he thought they were boneheaded.
Sometimes, however, it was difficult to respect Elaine’s ideas. He had tried to teach both girls that they could set forth any opinion, but they must be willing to back it up. Anne could always give him a backup for her opinions, even if Stephen thought they were ludicrous. Elaine, on the other hand, was of the because-I-said-so school.
When Anne picked up her cell phone, he could hear the noise of the bar she tended in the background. “Are you too busy to talk?” he asked.
“Daddy? I have time. It’s quiet right now.”
“If what I am hearing is quiet, I dread to think what a crowd sounds like.”
“Give me a second to get back to the office.” A moment later the ambient crowd noise went away. “There, the door’s shut. Are you sick of the country and itching to come home yet? Or, considering the bugs, just itching?”
“I’m barely settled in. I thought you’d be enjoying having the house to yourself. You are alone, aren’t you?”
“You think I’m having wild parties?”
“I hope not. My homeowner’s insurance doesn’t cover raves.”
“Well, I am not having any raves...or any dates, more’s the pity. You need to return your calls to all your lady friends. They keep leaving