Rogue's Revenge (8 page)

“That much.” She swung to face him, and he saw fury snapping from eyes as green as the burgeoning leaves at the Chance.

“Okay, fine.” He turned the Cherokee into the parking lot of the small airport, where a commuter plane was warming up on the runway. “Seems like we’ve made it.” He swung to a stop at the terminal doors and got out, his rapid strides to the back of the vehicle punctuating his annoyance.

“Here.” He plunked her suitcase at the entrance. “Safe journey.”

With a plethora of feelings roiling in his gut, he climbed back into the Jeep and gunned back toward the highway. He had to find some way to get that irritating woman out from under his skin.

Wonder what Jesse is doing for dinner tonight?

He swung the Jeep into the parking lot beside the former Victorian lumber baron’s house that now served at the town’s clinic and emergency hospital. Climbing out, he grinned as he read the sign: Dr. Jessica Henderson, MD.
Yeah, that’s just what I need…an evening with the good doctor.

“Heath.” The silver-haired receptionist rose to greet him as he entered the foyer that had been converted into a now-empty waiting room. “It’s so good to see you. How have you been?” She lowered her tone over the last sentence. “You must miss Jack. I saw you at the funeral yesterday but didn’t get an opportunity to talk to you or his daughter. The chestnut-haired girl in the black suit must have been Jack’s granddaughter. My, she’s grown into quite a lady…a big-city lady, that is.”

Heath caught the note of deprecation in her last sentence and had to hold back a grin. He knew Mrs. Henderson had hopes for her own daughter and him. She wouldn’t welcome anyone who might push that dream any further from reality.

“She is that. Big city, that is. I just put her on a plane back to Toronto. Is Jesse busy?”

“No, no, finished with the last patient before you came in.” The alacrity in her tone upped immediately. “Wait here. I’ll fetch her.”

Heath let the grin come as she bustled into the office behind her desk. Some day he and Jesse would have to tell her the truth about their relationship. Man, he wasn’t looking forward to that day. Somehow he couldn’t see Mrs. Henderson accepting the friends-with-benefits thing.

****

“So she’s on her way back to Toronto to see if her lawyers can screw you out of your share of the Chance.” Doctor Jessica Henderson replaced her wine glass on the table and looked over at Heath. They were seated in Douglas O’Brien’s restaurant, the only eatery in Portage other than a couple of fast-food outlets. A candle cast shadows over the couple in the room bathed in twilight and the scent of freshly baked bread and apple pies.

“I guess.” He shrugged as he reached for his beer.

“Heath, you can’t let her do it.” A strong, slender hand reached to cover his on the bottle. “You love that place. Jack loved that place. You owe it to both of you to fight back.”

“How?” He looked over at her.

“Get your own lawyer.” He saw the blaze in her brown eyes,
Man, she was beautiful.

“If you hadn’t become a doctor, you could have been a model, or an actress, or…”

“Stop avoiding the subject.” She pulled her hand away and glared at him. “One of your most attractive character traits has always been your determination to keep Jack’s dream alive at the Chance. I’m not about to let you lose it simply because some Toronto businesswoman decides to give you a run for your rights.”

“I like it when you have fire in your eyes.” His lips quirked up on one corner. “Okay, I’ll give it a fight. But lawyers cost big bucks. Jack paid me a decent wage, but I didn’t get rich. The bit I put aside is for my mother’s retirement. I can’t go risking it on the outside chance I might win in a civil case against someone with the connections Allison Armstrong must have.”

“I can help.” She spoke softly, carefully. “If it’s only money that’s holding you back…”

“Hell, Jesse, as if I’d take money from you!”

“Okay, okay. Just something I wanted to throw out there. No need to take major offense.”

“Sorry.” He returned his attention to his beer.

“She’s still getting to you…even after more than twelve years.” He looked up to see her dark eyes, serious and insightful. “My God, Heath, a girl you fell in love with all that long ago…”

“I never said I fell in love with her.” The words snapped out sharper than he’d intended. “Sorry, again.” He moderated his tone. “It was a teenage thing that she killed with her spoiled brat persona. Love? I hardly think so. I’d say a lingering animosity is more descriptive of our relationship.”

“Really?” Her fingers toyed with the stem of her wine glass as she gazed down into the Chardonnay. “Hmm.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just hmm. Wondering, speculating.”

“Well, then, don’t. We’re out to enjoy the evening.”

“And maybe back to my place afterwards?”

****

He paused at the door of her house as she fumbled for the key in her purse. They’d done this many times over the years, when they both needed to share a night without commitment or morning-after guilt. She had no desire to be tied to anyone or anything aside from her medical practice, and he for some reason had never been able to get seriously involved with anyone or anything outside of the Chance.

He watched as she fitted the key in the lock, shoved open the door, clicked on the foyer light, and turned back to face him, smiling. “Well?” She held out a hand.

“Hell, Jesse…” He was stumbling, as awkward as he’d been on that rotten high school date all those years ago.

“Oh, my God. Don’t tell me. She comes back after all these years, gives you one hell of a hard time, and now we can’t be friends with benefits anymore.” Clamping her hands on her hips, she stared out at him.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. I’m just not…”

“In the mood, have a headache, need to get up early? Come on, Heath, spit out all the old clichés.”

“Jesse…”

“What am I saying?” Her words softened as she stepped back outside to stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. “I knew this day was coming. The day when she’d either return or you’d really and truly fall in love with someone. Not to worry, my darling. I understand.”

She turned, went inside, and closed the door. He stood on the step for a few moments. When she snapped off the porch light, he headed back to his Jeep.

Man, you’re an idiot. A gorgeous woman is willing to go to bed with you, and you blow it. That snotty little brown-haired wench from Toronto has done one hell of a job on you. You’d better get over it, and fast.

Chapter Six

Allison turned left, then right. Finally she swung all the way around and glanced back over her shoulder at her reflection in the full-length mirror of her bedroom in her parents’ house, the room she’d had growing up, the one she now slept in during visits such as this. She’d decided to stop off to talk with her mother before returning to her apartment, before consulting her lawyer. Her mother always seemed to have a handle on every situation, no matter how difficult. Furthermore, she remembered she’d promised to attend a hospital fundraiser sponsored by her mother’s committee.

A smile tipping her lips, she swung around once more.
Yes, there was definitely something to be said for the simple little black dress.

“What do you think, Jack?” She addressed her mother’s standard poodle where he lounged on her bed. Myra had objected to having the dog trimmed into any traditional poodle fashion. He had a full coat of pure white. If he hadn’t been kept in shape by proper diet and exercise, he might have looked like a large cotton ball. As it was, he was slim and trim, a prime example of his breed. At Allison’s words, he bolted alert and gave a sharp bark.

“You approve? Good. First male opinion of the evening.”

She adjusted one of the spaghetti straps over her bare shoulder, patted the artistic tangle of curls that had taken Gino, her hair stylist, two hours to concoct, and wished Heath could see her now. He’d be at a definite disadvantage in his bush pants and plaid shirt. Lord, she hated that man. She couldn’t wait for her father’s lawyer to obliterate that will. She’d send him packing so fast it would make his head spin, Snowy River hat and all. She’d tried to begin discussions of the situation with her parents on her arrival, but she’d barely had time to outline the conditions of the will when her mother insisted it was time to get ready for the benefit.

“We’ll discuss it in the morning, honey,” she’d said.

“Allison, are your ready? Your father and I have to leave soon.”

Her mother’s voice from downstairs brought her back to the moment.

“Coming,” she called, checking her pearl earrings and realizing how well they set off her creamy complexion. She snatched up a black evening jacket and handbag from her bed and hurried downstairs, Jack at her heels.

“Wow, Mom, you look terrific.” Allison’s tone reflected the sincerity of her admiration when she saw her mother in a floor-length, long-sleeved gown of electric blue, her golden hair elegantly drawn into an upswept style.

“Doesn’t she?” Allison’s six-foot-tall father, looking the epitome of sophistication in his excellently tailored tuxedo, chestnut hair touched with gray at the temples, beamed down on his wife. “She’ll have every man at this barn dance grabbing their checkbook and giving to those sick kids till it hurts. Her daughter doesn’t look too shabby, either.”

He turned his attention to Allison and grinned broadly, cowboy roots showing through the veneer of big city surgeon.

“That’s enough flattery, you two.” Myra smiled at the pair. “Allison, I am pleased you agreed to attend this fundraiser with us. We don’t spend nearly enough time together as a family.”

Oh, God, Mom, don’t you start on the family neglect bit.
It’s bad enough I have Gramps’ version of the last original woodsman on my back.

The doorbell rang. Jack gave a sharp bark.

“Who can that be?” Cameron Armstrong frowned as he turned to answer it. “We’ve got to get going.”

“I made it.” Paul Bradley’s voice gave Allison a start. “Hi, Cam, Myra.”

Dressed in a tux, blond hair bright from salon care, he stepped into the foyer and flashed a smile lined with perfectly bonded white teeth and accentuated by what Allison knew, in Canada, in May, on an indoorsy investment banker, had to be a salon-induced tan.

“Made it?” Allison felt she’d missed a beat. A chafe of annoyance washed over her.

“Come on, Al. Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten. I told you I’d take you to your mother’s fundraiser if I could get away. And here I am.”

Jack muttered a deep-throated growl.

“Stay away from me, you furball,” he ordered the dog. “This is a new tux. I don’t want it despoiled with your sheddings.”

He crossed the entrance hallway to kiss Allison lightly on the lips.

“He’s a poodle.” She ignored his attempt to draw her into something intimate and shrugged away. “Poodles don’t shed.”

Her words brought a quick response. “I’m not into animals. Can’t abide their filthy ways.”

“Well, we’re delighted you’ve come,” Myra, always the gracious hostess, interjected. “You two can do me a favor. I’ll be grateful if you will pick up another case of Champagne at the Lakeside Liquor Store. I don’t have time. I have to be at the club to greet the guests. You can take a shortcut through the lane that runs along the greenbelt behind Lakeside Drive. The road isn’t paved, but you should still arrive in time for my opening remarks. Believe me, I need all the sympathetic faces I can get in the audience tonight. This is the biggest money raiser of the year. I have to be at my persuasive best.”

“Normally, I’d be glad to.” Paul turned to Myra. “But I came by cab. I just flew in from Vancouver and haven’t had time to get my BMW out of the garage.”

“We’ll take my car.” Allison struggled to keep an exasperated sigh out of her voice.

“Well, that solves one problem.” Paul took Allison’s arm possessively. “But I’m not sure about the wine. This is a new tux, and those cases can be dirty.”

“Here.” Cameron Armstrong reached into the closet near the door and pulled out one of his white lab coats. His tone reflected the exasperation his daughter had suppressed. “You can cover it with this.”

“Sure…sure…no problem.” Paul gingerly accepted the smock. “Let’s go, Al. It’s starting to rain and, like I said, this is a new tux.”

“Good Lord!” Allison breathed as she started her car two minutes later and swung it around the circular drive toward the street. “You’d have thought Mom asked you to bury her father, not just pick up a case of wine.”

“What are you talking about?” Paul looked over at her. “Your mother wouldn’t ask me to do a thing like that. What’s wrong with you, Al? God, you’re irritable. PMS or something? I thought you’d be glad to see me. It’s been nearly two weeks.”

“I’m sorry.” Allison braked before turning out onto the tree-lined avenue. She looked over at him and forced a smile. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. Let’s start over and concentrate on having fun tonight, okay?”

They had picked up the wine and were on their way to the country club through Myra’s suggested shortcut twenty minutes later when a ragged bolt of lightning rent the black night sky, freeing a downpour.

“Want me to drive?” Paul asked as the car slid in the mud of the dirt road.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Al, let’s stop for a few minutes. It’s private out here, and I haven’t seen you alone in a fortnight.”

“I’d rather not, Paul. Mom and Dad are waiting.”

“Ah, come on, Al. They know you’re in good hands. Pull over…here.”

He grabbed the wheel. Allison yanked back. The car skidded and lurched into a shallow ditch.

“Oh, great!” Allison stared out at the beams of her headlights shining into the trees, reversed, spun tires, and gave up. “We’ll never get out of here without a tow.”

“So use your cell. While we’re waiting to be rescued, we can do some serious making out.”

“I didn’t bring my phone.” She shrugged off his attempted embrace. “What about you?”

“In the pants I wore on the flight. Didn’t think I’d need it tonight.”