Spring In The Valley. Charlotte Douglas
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“Officer Sawyer—”
“Call me Brynn.” She offered her hand.
He grasped it and noted instantly the contrast of cool, silky skin, long elegant fingers and a no-nonsense grip that he released with reluctance. “Thanks, Brynn, but I have my cell phone if I need it. And I’m Rand, by the way.”
“I can stay while you take a break. I don’t mind. He’s a sweet little kid.”
“You’re very kind, but, no. Jared’s had a tough time lately, and when he wakes up, he should see a familiar face.”
“At least let me bring you breakfast.”
He scrutinized her closely, assessing her motives. She wasn’t coming on to him. In spite of her obvious sexual attributes, she didn’t flaunt them. Her concern seemed genuine with no strings attached, probably an example of the legendary Southern hospitality he’d heard so much about.
“Doesn’t the hospital have a cafeteria?” he asked.
“You can eat here if you’re a masochist,” she replied with a friendly grin. “But Jodie’s Café is just down the street. They have the best cranberry-pecan muffins in the Upstate.”
“Upstate?”
“Northwest South Carolina.”
“Sorry. I haven’t learned the local lingo.”
“You live on Valley Road, right?”
“Just moved in. I bought the place called River Walk.”
Her magnificent eyes widened at his mention of the name. “Great location, right on the river. Good trout fishing.”
“And lots of fresh air and sunshine. Just what the doctor ordered for Jared’s health.” He glanced at Jared, sleeping peacefully, and felt a stab of guilt. “Guess I didn’t get him out of New York fast enough.”
“You’re from New York?” Brynn’s question seemed strained.
“New York City. Jared and I moved to River Walk to escape the pollution. Jared, as you can tell, has weak lungs. I’m hoping the country air will improve his stamina.”
Brynn flashed a brittle smile. “Will you be working in town?”
He shook his head. “I’m with a New York law firm.”
A wary look flashed across her very pretty face. “You’re a lawyer?”
Rand frowned. She’d uttered the word in a derogatory tone usually reserved for wife beaters, serial killers and child pornographers. “A corporate attorney.”
She backed toward the door. “Not many corporations in Pleasant Valley.”
“I’m taking a sabbatical, time for us to settle into our new life.”
Brynn reached behind her and grabbed the door-knob. “Dr. Anderson says Jared should recover completely in a day or two. That new antibiotic did the trick.”
Rand didn’t want her to leave. Not until he’d learned a whole lot more about the delectable Officer Sawyer. “Come to dinner when Jared’s better. I’d like to show you our place.”
Now that was the understatement of the year.
“Maybe.” Brynn couldn’t have sounded more noncommittal. “I’ll have the café send that breakfast over.”
Before Rand could protest, she slipped out the door and closed it firmly behind her. Officer Sawyer hadn’t appeared the type who would spook easily. He sank back into the bedside chair, wondering what he’d said that had sent her running as if the devil were at her heels.
BRYNN STOMPED through the snow that covered the sidewalk, heedless of the creeping dampness at the cuffs of her uniform trousers, oblivious to the cold that nipped her cheeks. As steamed as she felt, she was amazed the snow didn’t melt in her path. How could she be so stupid, going all fluttery inside over a guy with three strikes against him?
Married, most likely. He hadn’t been wearing a wedding band, but that wasn’t concrete proof of anything.
Yankee, by his own admission.
And a lawyer.
But try as she might, she couldn’t get Rand Benedict out of her mind, especially the way his deep brown eyes had widened first with surprise, then blatant approval when she’d seen him this morning. And that voice. No nasal Yankee twang. Just seductively rich, deep and smooth, like an anchorman’s on the network news.
He had shed his cashmere overcoat, too, using it as a blanket over his knees, exposing broad shoulders, well-developed biceps and an enticing chest beneath his pristine white T-shirt. Sitting at a desk and hoisting law books didn’t produce that kind of physical perfection. He probably worked out in an expensive Fifth Avenue health club. In New York City, for Pete’s sake! She’d have more in common with the man if he came from Mars.
Then why couldn’t she get him out of her head? He’d occupied her thoughts during the entire night shift, causing Todd Leland to eye her more than once with curiosity when he had to repeat a question. Fortunately, she hadn’t been called out on the road. In her present state of out-of-her-mind, she’d have ended up with Jay-Jay pulling her patrol car from a snowbank with his tow truck.
Brynn had worried all night about little Jared, too. She could have simply called the hospital to check on him once her shift was over. But, no, she’d gone and stuck herself smack-dab in temptation’s path by returning to the hospital where Rand Benedict would be waiting.
Reaching the entrance to Jodie’s Mountain Crafts and Café, Brynn stomped the snow off her boots and opened one of the double glass doors. A blast of warm air and a mélange of delicious aromas greeted her. In a couple months, the café would be crowded with tourists stopping for breakfast on their way to the North Carolina mountains, but in late March, the working locals had already eaten and left, and the dining area was practically empty.
“Morning, Officer Sawyer.”
Sixteen-year-old Daniel, a teen from Archer Farm whom Jodie had hired as a busboy, looked up from the table he was clearing. Of all Jeff’s clients, Daniel had made the most progress in rehabilitating himself. Tall and lanky with carrot-colored hair and freckles, Daniel had gained poise and self-confidence over the past few months. And a reputation as a hard worker.
“Hey, Daniel,” Brynn greeted him. “Do you have time to make a delivery for me?”
His face lighted with its usual puppy-dog eagerness. “Yes, ma’am!”
“Take a large coffee, large o.j. and several kinds of muffins over to the hospital. To Mr. Rand Benedict. And put them on my tab.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Daniel tucked the tub of dirty dishes under his arm and hurried toward the kitchen.
Just because Rand was off-limits didn’t mean he didn’t deserve a little pampering after the hard night he’d endured. She’d promised him breakfast, and with that obligation fulfilled, she’d forget him.
Brynn wandered through the gift area, a wide hall lined with shelves filled with handmade quilts, willow baskets and rustic birdhouses, many made by the boys at Archer Farm. The passage led to the dining room on the deck overlooking the river. The arching glass roof and walls kept out the snow and cold and provided a breathtaking view of the Piedmont River below and the mountains beyond.
“Hey, honeybun, come sit with us,” a familiar voice called.
Brynn’s aunt, Marion Sawyer, sat with Merrilee Nathan at the only occupied table on the deck. Glad for an excuse not to be alone with her troublesome thoughts, Brynn joined them.
“You two are up early,” Brynn said.
“I’m filling in as hostess for the breakfast shift while Jodie’s on her honeymoon,” Merrilee explained. Her face flushed and her eyes glimmered at the mention of the honeymoon,