Heartwishes (10 page)

It hit him hard. “If you don’t care about trying to become a countess . . . You hired Gemma for Colin, didn’t you? This whole thing, buying all those old documents, remodeling the guesthouse, hiring a live-in researcher, it’s all been for Colin, hasn’t it?”

Alea looked at her husband as though he were extremely clever to have figured that out. “Our son takes his duties of being sheriff
very
seriously and he won’t look at a woman under his jurisdiction. Did I ever tell you about the time I was waiting in the car for Colin and that Dolores Costas appeared at her door wearing a pink negligee?”

About fifty times, Peregrine thought but didn’t say. He’d asked Colin about it, and he’d laughed. The woman was a single mother and her three-year-old had had a fever during the night, so she was in her pajamas and robe—which her daughter had thrown up on. Peregrine figured the truth was somewhere between the two stories, because many times he’d seen a woman make a play for Colin but be ignored. To Colin, all the people of Edilean were for him to watch
over, and he would never consider making a pass at someone under his care.

Which is why Peregrine thought Jean suited Colin so well. His work in Edilean didn’t have regular hours. He could be called on to do anything, from getting a doctor to a pregnant woman during a snowstorm, to finding lost people in the wilderness area, to tracking a rabid dog. A normal wife would be unhappy about how much time her husband was away, but Jean had a flourishing career. She was too busy to worry when the man in her life wasn’t home by six.

“Do you know what Colin did?” Alea asked.

“I doubt if I have any idea.”

“He bought Luke Connor’s house.”

“The one he remodeled?”

“Yes.”

“That place is beautiful. What did Colin pay for it? Did he—?” Alea was looking at her husband hard. If their son had bought a house and was going to quit living in that awful apartment over his office, that meant he was getting ready to settle down, maybe to marry. Shouldn’t Alea be happy about that? Oh. Right. Peregrine had never thought about it before, but he couldn’t see Jean as anybody’s mother. He certainly couldn’t imagine her staying up all night with a sick child and the next morning answering the door wearing dirty pajamas. The truth was, he couldn’t imagine Jean living in Edilean.

“So now do you understand?” Alea asked.

“Did you and your boyfriend Freddy plan all this?” He knew his wife hadn’t seen the man who became president of their university in years, but it galled him that they kept in touch. Three times Frazier Motors had donated vehicles to the university to raise money. “If you don’t want to do it for Freddy, then do it for me. Please?” his wife had pleaded.

Alea gave her husband a one-sided smile. “Freddy and I did go over the qualifications of each applicant rather carefully. I didn’t want someone who was deeply attached to her family and would never consider moving to a small town. Wasn’t that girl Isla a major disappointment?”

“What about Kirk?” he asked in wonder. “No, don’t tell me. If three young women had shown up, Colin would have known in an instant what you were up to.”

Alea smiled warmly at him.

“And Colin likes Gemma,” Peregrine whispered.

“More than I ever hoped he would. When Freddy told me the girl tutored football players, I knew there was a real chance that something could happen between them.”

“So what now?” Peregrine asked as he looked at his watch. He was going to forget about work and go directly to golf. He needed some exercise to clear his mind.

“I just want to put them together as often as possible.”

Peregrine got out of his chair. This particular scheme of his wife’s seemed harmless enough. It wouldn’t be the first time Jean and Colin had broken up, and there’d be tears, but that could be handled by turning the whole thing over to his wife. Too bad about Jean though. He liked her, and he loved her cooking. “Well, dear,” he said, “you can play matchmaker all you want, but be sure to keep me up-to-date.” He paused. “What about Dr. Tris? Wasn’t there talk about him? Maybe he and Gemma will like each other.”

“Every woman in town has tried for that man. I can’t imagine that our studious little Gemma will be able to win him. Even gorgeous Jean doesn’t turn Dr. Tris’s head.”

In college, Peregrine had dated many women who were much prettier and certainly more glamorous than Alea, but he’d known she was the one for him the moment he saw her stride across the
gym floor. It had been during a basketball match, and as he watched her, the ball had hit his head and bounced off. The whole school burst into laughter. Four months later, she was pregnant and two months afterward, they were married.

He kissed his wife’s cheek. “I hope you’re right, dear, and that you get what you want. Just don’t do anything drastic, will you?”

“Explain the meaning of
drastic
.”

Peregrine didn’t want to think about what could happen. “How about if I grill some steaks tonight?”

“Lovely. I’ll have Rachel get them today. Have a good time today, dearest. Tell Dr. Henry hello for me.”

5

G
EMMA WENT UPSTAIRS
to get her bag and when she got outside, Colin was standing by his Jeep, talking on his cell. He didn’t look happy. When he saw Gemma, he gave a curt good-bye, clicked off the phone, and put it in his pocket.

She got into the car beside him, and he was silent as he maneuvered out of the driveway around the other vehicles. “Did something bad happen?” she asked.

“No, nothing. Everything is fine. Do you know what kind of car you want?”

“I told your dad a Duesenberg.” When this elicited no response from him, she said, “How about if we do this later? When you’re in a better mood?”

As they reached the highway, Colin stepped on the clutch, shoved the car into third, and she was thrown back against the seat. “No, I need the distraction. Do you know where I live?”

“In town somewhere?”

“I live in an apartment over my office. The downstairs used
to be a shop that sold ladies’ apparel, while upstairs was used for storage. There are only a few windows, and the place smells like mothballs.”

Gemma was beginning to understand. “And you want to move into your new house.”

“Exactly. But as you saw, I have no furniture. Jean said she’d go with me tomorrow to buy some. But she left a voice mail saying she has an important case early on Monday morning, and she can’t get back until next week.”

Gemma was thinking about what Rachel had told her. If Jean couldn’t find time to spend a weekend, how was she going to live there? “I bet you didn’t tell her you had a big surprise for her.” Gemma thought Jean didn’t seem to be the type who’d want someone else to choose her house for her, but that wasn’t any of her business. What she wanted was for Colin to tell her about him and Jean.

But he didn’t take the hint. “Do
you
know anything about furniture?” he asked.

“Not after about 1860, although I am familiar with the Bauhaus School. Mies van der Rohe never did anything for me, though. But then Rococo also leaves me cold, and no two styles could be more different, right?” Colin was looking at her. “Oh. You mean furniture today, don’t you? What you can buy in a shop now. No, I know nothing about it.”

“You and my father are going to get on well. He lives in a world of past automobiles. He is extremely disappointed that none of his kids has inherited the family obsession.”

“But you said that two of your brothers work for him.”

“Work but don’t love,” Colin said.

Gemma couldn’t imagine a parent being disappointed because he had a son who was a sheriff, a daughter who was about to become a doctor, and another son who lived for his art. “Maybe—” Gemma began, but the two-way radio in the console interrupted her.

“Colin!” said a man’s voice. “You there?”

He picked up the microphone. “Yeah, Tom. What do you need?”

“How far away are you from the fork in K Creek?”

“Ten minutes,” he said as he glanced at Gemma. “Hold on.” He downshifted, then turned the car ninety degrees without so much as slowing down.

Gemma held on to the door and her seat, and felt as though she were on a ride at a fair—or a NASA training device.

Colin didn’t so much as pause in talking on the radio. “I’m about eight minutes away now. What’s up?”

“A four-year-old boy climbed a tree and he’s sitting on a branch that’s about to break. I’ve spent the last fifteen minutes trying to get him to jump to me, but he won’t let go. Says I’m too old to catch him.” They could hear the frustration in the man’s voice. “The fire department is on the way with a ladder, but I thought maybe if you were close, you could talk him down. Carl’s here but . . .”

“Five minutes,” Colin said and clicked off the microphone as he reached outside and put a red light on the roof and a siren went off. He glanced at Gemma. “I’m sorry, but I have to go fast.”

She said nothing but her eyes widened. They were already doing sixty on the winding road. There were only a few feet visible in front of them. If a car—

She broke off her thoughts because a pickup with a boat attached was in front of them and Colin was heading straight into the back of it. He swerved to the left—and into the face of an oncoming car. Gemma tried to brace herself for the coming crash.

But then, as though it were like some Biblical drama, the truck beside them slammed on the brakes and jerked to the right, while the car expertly went to the left, its nose heading into the trees. In front of them, the way was clear, and Colin hadn’t even slowed down.

As soon as they were past, Gemma turned to look behind them. Both the truck and the car had stopped, and a tall man from the truck was crossing the road to the car.

Gemma turned back around. They were doing seventy now.

“That was Luke, the author, in the truck,” Colin said. “And it was Ramsey in the car. He’s a lawyer.”

“It was a pleasure meeting them,” Gemma answered, still holding on.

Colin chuckled as he turned a sharp right onto land that had no hint of a roadway. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but I knew they’d get out of the way. They’re both relatives of mine.”

She wanted to ask what he would have done if the road had been full of tourists, but she was too busy holding on to ask him anything. There were holes and little hillocks that made one wheel go down and another go up. Gemma was bouncing on the seat so hard her head scraped the ceiling.

“Shortcut,” Colin yelled over the noise of the siren and what sounded like a metal tool box in the back bouncing up and down. “We’re going across Merlin’s Farm.” He pointed to the right.

Half hidden under the trees was a small octagon-shaped building with a tall, pointed roof, like a witch’s hat. There was a short door, and to the right of it was an open space in the wall, with a gate across it.

It didn’t take a historian to see that the building was
very
old.

“That’s . . .” Gemma began. “Is that . . . ?”

“Spring house. Water inside,” Colin yelled back as he shifted gears. In the next second he went around a couple of big trees and a county sheriff car came into view. Colin skidded to a halt amid a dense cloud of dust and rocks.

Gemma stayed in the car, coughing, but Colin leaped out before the vehicle came to a full halt. When the car kept rolling, she saw
that he’d left it to her to turn off the engine. She slid over the console, braked, and turned the motor off.

When she looked out the windshield, she saw Colin and two law enforcement officers in brown uniforms standing a few feet away from a big tree that had been struck by lightning. Half of the tree had fallen to the ground, creating what looked to be a ramp that led upward. It would be easy for a child to walk up it.

Above, sitting on a heavy branch that was bending toward the earth, was a little boy. He had blond hair and big blue eyes that were wide with fear. His mother was standing below and talking to him in a low voice, trying to keep him from moving and causing the branch to break further.

Gemma got out of the car and walked to stand near Colin, her eyes on the child.

“It’s going to take them another ten minutes to get here,” Tom, the county sheriff, was saying. He was in his late fifties, a tall, handsome man with gray hair. He turned his back to the boy’s mother. “Carl tried getting out to him, but the branch cracked. Think you can catch the kid if he falls?”

“Sure,” Colin said in a low voice so the mother wouldn’t hear. “But that wood isn’t going to hold much longer. I think we should get him down now.” He walked toward the little boy and looked up. “Hey . . .”

“Sean,” his mother said.

“Sean, my name is Colin, and I’m the town sheriff, and as you can see I’m pretty strong. What I want you to do is let go of the tree and let yourself fall. I’ll catch you. It’ll be like playing football. That okay with you?”

“No!” the boy said as he tightened his grip on the branch. It gave a resounding crack.

“He climbs everything,” his mother said, her voice vibrating with barely controlled hysteria. “He gets on the kitchen countertops
and into the upper cabinets. One morning I opened a door over the sink and he was sitting inside, smiling at me. He—”

Reaching out, Colin put his hand on her shoulder, and she quit talking. He turned back to the boy. “All right, Sean, I want you to be very still. Okay, buddy?” The child was only about six feet above his head, but he might as well have been ten stories away. And if Colin waited for the branch to break to catch the boy, both of them could be hurt.

“Cheerleading,” Tom said from beside Gemma.

When she turned toward him, he was staring at her. “Colin’s little brother does a cheerleader pyramid with five girls on him. The top one stands on his shoulders.”

Gemma thought that was an odd thing for him to say. Local sports weren’t exactly a pressing concern at the moment. When she realized what he was suggesting, her face lit up.

“Think you can do it?” Tom asked. “If the boy’ll let you, that is. He’s a heavy kid, and it’ll take some muscle to hold him.” He was looking her up and down in question.