One True Heart (10 page)

F
RIDAY
MORNING

Millanie left the doctor's office with her cousin Noah McAllen by her side. The minute her kin found out she was in town, they'd taken turns calling every morning to see if they could help. Noah just happened to be the unlucky one who phoned the day of her first doctor visit.

She smiled at the good-looking cowboy beside her. Noah was seven or eight years younger, but he'd made a killing riding bulls in his late teens and early twenties. Someone said that he now owned one of the finest ranches around.

“Sorry I'm taking up your time.” Millanie stuffed her medical files in a satchel she carried from hospital to hospital. “I could have made it here by myself.”

“No problem.” He grinned. “I was glad to get out of the house. My wife's planning our wedding. You'll have to come. We'd love to have you there. It's tomorrow night. She's decorating the barn in fall colors and just leaving all the boxes of apples out for decoration. They'll be dancing after the ceremony.”

Millanie was shocked. “You're getting married tomorrow?”

He shrugged. “It's no big deal. We get married every month. Or have since August thirtieth, last year. This one will make the twelfth time I've said
I do
and I'm hoping it's the last. We're running out of preachers to perform the ceremony. The one month we didn't get married was February and I missed it, to tell the truth.”

“Why marry every month?”

“My Rea says she wants to make sure I remember I'm married.” He grinned again. “I'm not likely to forget. We have a huge party, invite everyone in town, and then spend a few days honeymooning. I kind of like that part.” He helped her into his truck and tossed her crutches in the back. “I figure I'm the most married man I know, and that's right where I want to be.”

Noah might be years younger than her, but when he winked Millanie blushed.

“I'll be there tomorrow,” she said, thinking it might be just the place to watch people. All week she'd watched and waited. The assistant she'd been promised had never shown up. Looking for a person pretending to belong in Harmony wasn't easy. She could use a local's help. After listening to Martha Q talk at breakfast every morning for a week, Millanie had already decided that half the folks in Harmony belonged in an asylum. Most of Martha Q's stories were wild love affairs or tales of the horrors after one divorced.

“You mind if I stop and see Rick Matheson?” Noah interrupted Millanie's filing of information. “He's a lawyer who is handling the adoption of my son. It won't take long, and then I'll drive you anywhere you want to go.”

Martha Q had told her the story of Noah and Reagan's baby. He had been dropped off at Reagan's farm a little over a year ago by a friend of hers who didn't want the child. Word was when Noah came home and saw the baby, he called the boy his son. Everyone knew the baby shouldn't have been the young couple's problem, but no one dared bring it up to Noah or Reagan.

When Noah pulled into the mini strip mall housing a used bookstore and a laundry below, and several offices above, Millanie relaxed, knowing she'd have something to do while she waited. “I'll browse for a few books. You take as long as you like.”

Noah helped her to the bookstore's door and tipped his hat as she entered. A moment later she heard his boots bounding up the metal stairs.

Millanie hobbled in and smiled at the old guy behind a desk almost covered with books. Early sixties, she'd guess, shirt stained with coffee probably, ink on his right hand. Fifty pounds overweight, thinning gray hair that curled around the back of his ears. Intelligent, single, probably high blood pressure and allergies, judging from his red nose and several wadded tissues near the cash register. “Morning,” she said. “I'm—”

“I know who you are.” He puffed up as if insulted she'd think he wouldn't know her on sight. “Martha Q told me she had a guest at the inn who was on crutches. I figured you'd be in here at some point looking for books. Would you like a cup of coffee or do you just want to wander through the stacks? You're welcome to look but if you read past the first chapter, I expect you to buy.”

Millanie felt like she'd just been tossed a multiple-choice question and he'd forgotten to say,
A, B, or C
. “No coffee, thanks. I'll just wander for a while, I guess. My cousin is—”

“I know.” He stopped her again. “Who could miss Noah McAllen standing in the doorway blocking most of the sun? I'll yell when he comes back to pick you up.”

Millanie moved away from the man. Definitely lived alone, for he was used to talking to himself. Correction, he had a cat. Hair ten inches up on his trousers gave that fact away. She added
not interested in making money
to her list. Nothing about the place welcomed shoppers. Even the big round reading table was piled high in the center with discarded books and used paper cups.

As she maneuvered throughout the stacks, she noticed Kare Cunningham's sign above a tiny green door tucked
away in one corner. Drew had said her
office
was in the bookstore. On impulse, Millanie tapped on the door.

“Come in,” Kare's voice answered above the sound of shuffling.

Millanie had trouble getting into the room. She finally set her crutches inside and hopped over the threshold. The space was cluttered with books, a laptop, and stacks of paper. The office reminded Millanie of
I Dream of Jeannie
's home in a bottle. Scarves and tiny wind chimes were hung in every corner.

Kare jumped up and ran to help, knocking the crutches over and almost tripping Millanie.

“I'm so glad you came,” Kare whispered when she finally stopped bouncing around like a hiccupping butterfly. “I've been waiting for you to drop by for a visit. I knew the minute I saw you who you were.”

“So”—Millanie fought to keep her face blank—“you've read the future and you knew I was going to drop by.”

“No, not really,” Kare said as she helped Millanie lower into the chair. “Remember, I invited you to come see me. If you hadn't come today, I'd decided I'd try dropping by the inn. Only that wouldn't be my first choice for us to have a private conversation. The walls of that place have ears and they are stuck on Martha Q's head.”

Millanie was trying to figure out how to tell Kare she hadn't come in for a reading when Kare whispered, “I'm here to help you, Captain McAllen.”

For a moment Millanie's mind seemed to freeze up like an old air conditioner on a hot day. Kare couldn't be the contact sent to help her. Not this pixie of a girl who read palms for a living.

Walnut-brown eyes stared up at her. Intelligent eyes hidden by long overmascaraed lashes. Kare's lips were caked with red lipstick and a fake mole dotted her left cheek.

“I'm your contact,” the fairy creature whispered again. “I quit the bureau two years ago for family reasons, but I sometimes take research jobs for them. You know, part-time work helps pay the bills until my career takes off. They
called me the night you landed. By the time you checked into the inn, I'd already started my research.”

Millanie thought of screaming
No
, but with her luck, the bookstore owner would rush in. So she simply said the first thing that came to mind. “You're kidding.”

The girl waved one hand with nails long enough to plow a garden row. “Nope, I'm at your service. I'm a great researcher and I have a high enough security rating to get you whatever information you need.”

Millanie saw it then, a disguise so good she doubted another person had cracked it. The flashiest woman in town wasn't real and no one knew.

Not even her brother.

F
RIDAY

Millanie left the bookstore with two books she'd bought after barely looking at them and a huge bag with a quilt stuffed inside. Mr. Hatcher commented that he'd been staring at the quilt for a year wondering who'd be fool enough to buy it off the palm reader. He'd also commented that the little lady must have not needed the money because she never lowered the price.

Millanie said simply that she loved orange and brown blended together. In truth she couldn't wait to get home and read all the reports Kare had printed off and folded into the bulk of the quilt. For someone Millanie thought was tiptoeing around sanity, Kare appeared to have done her homework.

“Where to?” Noah asked with a wide smile. A hint of the rodeo cowboy still lingered in the way he stood and how he wore his hat low over his eyes. “I'll be your taxi all day.”

She read him easily. “It went well with the lawyer, didn't it?”

“It did. Looks like my son, Utah, will be legally ours within the month. He's a great kid. Says
Dada
and
up
. Loves it when I let him sit on my horse. Rea throws a fit, but I could ride before I could walk and I'm guessing he will too.”

Millanie had to ask, “Is he going to be a bull rider?”

“Nope. He's going to raise horses like his old man. Rea says we're stopping the next generation of McAllens from eating arena dirt.” Noah shrugged. “But my dad says we can start him on sheep in a few years. If he's not interested, I'm happy with that, but if he wants to ride I'll be there for him. It's in our blood.”

Millanie didn't want to bring up the fact that little Utah was adopted so it might not be in
his
blood.

“Thanks for taking me to my doctor's appointment this morning, Noah. I'll try to make your wedding.” She noticed an old van parked beside Noah's truck. Drew sat watching her as if he had nothing else in the world to do.

“You mind if I bring a date?” she added.

“Nope.” Noah turned in Drew's direction and waved as he opened the truck door on the passenger side. “Morning, Professor. If you're picking up laundry they got a new drive-through window on the side.”

“Thanks, Noah.” Drew climbed out of his van. “The only thing I was hoping to pick up is that cousin of yours.” He looked directly at Millanie. “Want to have lunch with me?”

Noah took one glance at her standing there and winked. Without a word, he handed her crutches to Drew.

Drew held the crutches in one hand as his free arm circled her waist and he helped her to his van.

The familiar warmth of him felt so good, but her logical mind wondered when Drew Cunningham worked. Shouldn't he be at Clifton College or home writing? Of course, he obviously didn't spend money on new clothes or cars. Maybe if he cut out all the extras in life, he could live working one day a week.

“Now you take good care of my cousin, Professor,” Noah yelled. “She's got a broken leg.”

“I know,” Drew whispered so low only Millanie heard. “It's the only thing keeping her upright.”

Millanie smiled, knowing he was just joking, but still it was flattering to think Drew was interested in her.

She was vaguely aware of Noah backing out in his truck as Drew's hands slid over her arm when he carefully put her in the seat and secured the seat belt. Before he straightened he turned toward her and kissed her lightly on the mouth as if it were something he did every time he buckled her in.

It never occurred to her to protest. Watching him was like observing a species she'd never seen in the wild. She'd grown up with a father in the military; she'd gone through school in ROTC. All she'd ever been around were men who were driven by a mission.

Drew didn't seem to be driven by anything. Near as she could tell he wasn't even walking in any particular direction through life. His clothes were out of style, his hair in need of a haircut. He didn't seem to fit in any category and she was an expert at tagging people.

Between trying to place Drew and his sister in the right type, Millanie felt like she was slipping. Kare hadn't been what she seemed, and Drew didn't fit into any category.

They drove through the narrow streets of Harmony and out toward the highway. In her head she had the conversation they weren't having. He'd ask how the doctor's visit went and she'd lie and say all was great. She'd talk about Noah and how happy her family was that he'd settled down. Then Drew would say something about how everyone in town talked about Noah's rodeo days. She'd invite him to the wedding and he'd say he'd be happy to go. Maybe they'd drift into conversation about the weather or fall coming on, and then they'd be silent and just enjoy the drive. Like they were doing right now.

Along the interstate Drew turned off at a truck stop restaurant. He didn't ask her if this place would do. He just cut the engine and climbed out of a vehicle that didn't seem to fit him at all. Vans were for people who had kids or men
with heavy hobbies to carry around, not professors whose usual load was probably papers to grade.

By the time she got her door open he was at her side helping her.

As he balanced her so she could stand, their bodies brushed. Both froze. She felt the warmth of him and one look into his eyes told her he wanted her. Not the how-about-we-hook-up-sometime kind of feeling, but something she'd never experienced, like maybe finding one true love in a world where such a thing had been extinct for years.

She considered the possibility that they'd both caught some disease at the airport that night they'd met. That theory made as much sense as any. She'd always been level-headed, reasonable, and he didn't seem the passionate type. After all, he'd lived to his thirties without putting a ring on his finger. In fact, she could almost see him as a dear old professor in forty years wandering the campus.

Nothing about the man was exciting or mysterious. He wasn't even flirting. His speech, his manners, his caring all seemed real. As real as the need he seemed to have for her. It occurred to her that he didn't understand it any more than she did.

Millanie pulled her warring feelings into check. She was too old to be reacting like this. He wasn't the kind of man she would ever be attracted to. He was nice and maybe a little mad to be infatuated with a woman with whom he couldn't keep a conversation going.

As they walked into the dive, she asked, “Aren't you going to say anything to me, Professor?”

“Not much worth eating here except the burgers.” He held open the door.

“Then why did we come?”

“It's the only place around where we won't run into people we know. I wanted to be alone with you.” He took her crutches while she lowered herself into the chair.

“So we could talk?” She laughed at her own joke.

He sat down, opened his menu, and answered without looking up. “I thought I made it plain to you before, Millie,
talking isn't what I have in mind.” His leg accidentally brushed hers under the table. “I've got wild plans, girl.”

Giggling, she bumped his leg. “No one's called me
girl
in years and I hate the name Millie. It's not real important that we talk, but at least try to get my name right, Andrew.”

“I'm making no promises. You distract me. You're lucky I can manage simple sentences when I'm around you.”

She wondered if the harmless professor had any idea how cute he was, even with his dark glasses on. If another man at another time had said such things, she might have been on guard, but not with Drew. A man who went to see his mother in Chicago, had a fortune-telling sister he worried about, and lectured at church couldn't be dangerous.

He smiled at the waitress and ordered two hamburgers.

The waitress was trying to flirt with him, but Drew didn't seem to notice. He simply went back to reading the menu as if it were fascinating.

Millanie added that she wanted hers with no onion or lettuce and to add cheese. The waitress wrote it down without ever taking her eyes off Drew.

When they were alone, Millanie bumped her good leg against his again. No reaction. “What's so interesting?”

He rested his leg against hers as he looked over the menu and smiled when she didn't move away. His contact was definitely no accident this time.

“This menu has seven grammatical mistakes,” he whispered.

She blinked. Maybe the bad guys had sent Drew to confuse her. No, not even drug lords hired professors. Could it be possible that he thought spelling to be a topic worth discussing?

The waitress dropped off their drinks without glancing at Millanie. She asked Drew twice if he wanted a straw. He politely said no, twice.

When they were alone again, Millanie leaned forward and asked, “What did your sister do before she became a fortune-teller?” They needed to talk before daydreaming
took completely over in her mind. The heat of his leg resting against hers seemed to be warming her entire body.

“Went to school, I guess, but I don't know how well she did. She told me once she had her own computer by the time she was five and since then she could learn anything she wanted to know online. It's the one thing we share in common. I do most of my research for my book on the Internet and she plays on the thing all day between palm-reading customers.”

“She's making a living at palm reading?”

“Must be. I've asked her several times since she dropped into my life if she needed any money and she always says no.”

Millanie thought of asking how he got his money. She doubted teaching one class left him with enough to loan his sister money. Only the feel of his leg against her kept distracting her.

They ate lunch without bothering to keep a conversation going, and then he paid the bill and helped her back to his van. Before he could buckle her belt, she completed the task. He didn't look disappointed or seem to even notice, but he didn't kiss her this time. She'd been trained to read people, but she couldn't read him.

Again, he didn't tell her where they were going, but as they passed through town and headed out on Lone Oak Road, she guessed. “My ancestors had a place out this direction. A few acres they got for being one of the founding families of Harmony.”

“I know. I looked it up last night on the library's Web page about the town's history. Have you ever seen the place?”

“No. If my folks took me out there as a kid, I don't remember it. Once we moved, it was rare to come back. The family always wanted to come to Dallas to see us. Lots more to do, they said.”

As the van turned off on a dirt road, she felt like memory deep in her cells recognized the place. The line of trees must have been planted over a hundred years ago to serve as a windbreak, but the rest of the land looked almost the same as it had when Patrick and Annie McAllen homesteaded.

“From the looks of it,” Drew said in what almost sounded like his lecture voice, “the land has never been plowed. Your great-great-grandparents must have been ranchers. Which would make sense in this uneven terrain. One of the records listed him as a carpenter.”

“It's beautiful in a raw, wild way.”

“I think so too.” He slowed. “I'm guessing this old house holds secrets waiting. There is definitely a true beauty here.”

When she glanced at him, Drew was looking at her, not the landscape. She remained perfectly still as he reached over and caught one of her short curls.

The van stopped as his fingers moved into her hair. “I just need to touch you for a moment,” he whispered as if apologizing.

She closed her eyes as he cupped her cheek in his hand. His thumb moved over her mouth. “I know this isn't the time or place, but when it's right I plan to know the feel of your skin completely.”

Millanie let out a long breath as he straightened and began to drive. He'd finally said something interesting.

“You all right?” he asked as he picked up speed.

“I'm fine.” She wanted to say she'd never felt so desired, but words didn't come.

“Nice place to homestead,” he said casually, pointing to the pretty rolling countryside.

She nodded, even though he was watching the rough road and didn't see her. Finally, she moved her thoughts past his touch. “I remember my mother telling me that. She said after their fourth kid, they bought more land and built farther out. The homestead house was used as a weaning house when their children first married. Eventually it was just used for storage. I'll be surprised if it's still standing.”

Drew turned first left, then right on a winding road that was little more than tire tracks. “From the looks of this road, they didn't really care if they had company.”

Millanie laughed. “Legend was my great-great-grandfather had four sisters who lived in town. Maybe he planned the road this way.”

As they circled a natural rise, the little house came into view. Sunlight sparkled across it as if showing off the old place. Windows had been boarded up on the north and west sides, but the house still stood.