Lucy and The Lieutenant. Helen Lacey
it simply wishful thinking and then got on with knowing he’d never look at her in that way.
She turned her head a little and spotted him. Handsome as ever, he was talking to Liam and she experienced the usual flutter in her belly. His dark hair, strong jaw and blue eyes never failed to affect her on a kind of primal level.
“You’re imagining things,” she said dismissively and poured another quarter of a glass of sangria to keep her hands busy.
“I know what I saw,” Kayla said, still smiling. “I wonder what he’s doing talking with Liam.”
“I’m sure you’ll find out,” Lucy said with a grin.
Kayla sighed heavily. “For the last time, I am not interested in Liam O’Sullivan.”
Ash and Brooke both laughed. “Sure you aren’t,” Ash said.
“We’re just working together on the gallery extension plans, that’s all,” Kayla insisted.
Lucy was pretty sure there was more to it, but didn’t press the issue. She was more interested in knowing why Brant was consorting with his brother’s mortal enemy. But since neither things were any of her business, she concentrated on the cocktails and enjoying her friend’s company.
Except, Brooke didn’t drop the topic. “At least he hasn’t wrecked his bike again.”
“Not for a couple of months,” Lucy said and frowned. “He was lucky he wasn’t seriously injured,” she added with quiet emphasis.
His last visit to the ER was his third in seven months and had landed him with a dislocated shoulder and cuts and scrapes. The first was another flip from his motorbike. The second was when he’d climbed Kegg’s Mountain and taken a tumble that also could have killed him. Why he’d risk his life so carelessly after surviving three tours of the Middle East, Lucy had no idea.
“I guess he’s just adventurous,” Brooke said, and Lucy saw a shadow of concern in her friend’s expression. This was Brant’s cousin. Family. Brooke knew him. And clearly she was worried.
“Maybe,” Lucy replied and smiled fractionally, eager to change the subject.
Ash bailed at seven fifteen to get home to her eleven-year-old son, Jaye. Lucy hung out with Kayla and Brooke for another ten minutes before they all grabbed their bags and headed out. Brant had left half an hour earlier, without looking at her, without even acknowledging her presence. Kayla managed a vague wave to Liam O’Sullivan before they walked through the doors and into the cold night air.
Lucy grabbed her coat and flipped it over her shoulders. “It’s still snowing. Weird for this time of year. Remind me again why I didn’t accept the offer to join the hospital in San Francisco?”
“Because you don’t like California,” Kayla said, shivering. “And you said you’d miss us and this town too much.”
“True,” Lucy said and grinned. “I’ll talk to you both over the weekend.”
They hugged goodbye and headed in opposite directions. People were still coming into the hotel and the street out front was getting busy, so she took some time to maneuver her car from its space and drive off.
The main street of Cedar River was typical of countless others in small towns: a mix of old and new buildings, cedar and stucco, some tenanted, some not. There were two sets of traffic lights and one main intersection. Take a left and the road headed toward Rapid City. Go right and there was Nebraska. Over three and a half thousand people called Cedar River home. It sat peacefully in the shadow of the Black Hills and was as picturesque as a scene from a postcard. She loved the town and never imagined living anywhere else. Even while she was away at college, medical school and working at the hospital in Sioux Falls for three years, her heart had always called her home.
Up until recently the town had been two towns—Cedar Creek and Riverbend—separated by a narrow river and a bridge. But after years of negotiating, the townships had formed one larger town called Cedar River. Lucy had supported the merger... It meant more funding for the hospital and the promise of a unified, economically sound community.
Lucy was just about to flick on the radio for the chance to hear the weather report when her car spluttered and slowed, quickly easing to little more than a roll. She steered left and pulled to the curb as the engine coughed and died.
Great...
A few cars passed, all clearly intent on getting home before the snow worsened. Lucy grabbed her bag and pulled out her cell. She could call her automobile club for assistance, but that meant she’d be dragging mechanic Joss Culhane out to give her a tow home. And Joss was a single dad with two little girls to look after and had better things to do than come to her rescue because she’d forgotten about the battery light that had been flashing intermittently all week.
Better she didn’t. She was just about to call Kayla to come and get her when she spotted something attached to one of the old buildings flapping in the breeze. A shingle. Recognition coursed through her.
The Loose Moose. Brant’s place.
A light shone through one of the front windows. He was home. She knew he lived in the apartment above the tavern. Of course she’d never been up there. But Colleen Parker had told her how he was renovating the tavern while residing in the upstairs rooms.
Lucy got out of the car and wrapped herself in her red woolen coat. Surely, Brant would help her, given the circumstances?
She grabbed her bag and locked the car before she headed toward the old tavern. The old adobe front was boarded up, apart from the two windows, and the heavy double doors were still blackened in spots from the damage caused by the fire eight months before.
Lucy knocked once and waited. She could hear music coming from inside and discreetly peered through one of the windows. There were trestle tables scattered with power tools and neat stacks of timber on the floor near the long bar, and the wall between the remaining booth seats and the back room that had once housed pool tables had been pulled down. She knocked again, louder this time, and then again. The music stopped. By the time the door swung back she was shivering with cold, her knuckles were pink and her patience a little frayed.
Until she saw him. Then her mouth turned dry and her knees knocked for an altogether different reason.
He wore jeans and a navy sweater that molded to his shoulders and chest like a second skin. His dark hair was ruffled, as though he’d just run a hand through it, and the very idea made her palms tingle. His blue eyes shimmered and his jaw was set tightly. He looked surprised to see her on his doorstep. And not one bit welcoming.
But, dear heaven, he is gorgeous.
She forced some words out. “Um, hi.”
“Dr. Monero,” he said, frowning. “It’s a little late for a house call, don’t you think?”
She swallowed hard, suddenly nervous. There was no welcome in his words. She jutted her chin. “Oh, call me Lucy,” she insisted and then waved a backward hand. “My car has stopped just outside. I think it’s the battery. And I didn’t want to call for a tow because my mechanic has two little kids and I thought it was too much to ask for him to come out in this weather and I was wondering if... I thought you might...”
“You thought I might what?”
Lucy wanted to turn and run. But she stayed where she was and took a deep breath. “I thought you might be able to help. Or give me a lift home.”
His brows shot up. “You did?”
She shrugged. “Well, I know it’s only a few blocks away, but the paths are slippery and the snow doesn’t seem to be easing anytime soon.”
His gaze flicked upward for a second toward the falling snow and then to her car. “Give me your keys,” he instructed and held out his hand.
Lucy dropped the keys into his palm and watched as he strode past her and to her car. He was in the car and had