The One And Only. Laurie Paige
hit her again, as always when she thought of the precious life that she’d once held in her arms—
“You okay?”
She blinked and came back to the present. “Sorry. I keep going off the deep end today, don’t I?” She laughed softly to indicate it was nothing serious, only spring fever or something like that.
Realizing she sounded nervous instead of amused, she took a sip of tea and fought for composure, building the wall around her emotions one stone at a time until she was safe behind it again. Their meal arrived, relieving her of the need for small talk until they were alone again.
“You’re very good with the children,” she told him. “Putting them on the stool while you sit on a chair puts them on the same eye level. That way you don’t loom over them like some colossus.”
His face lit up in pleasure. Her heart gave an odd hitch that disturbed her equanimity a bit.
“I hated getting shots when I was a kid,” he said. “One doctor had my mom sit on a stool and hold me while he sat on another one to do the examination. He told me he had to give me a shot, but it wouldn’t hurt as much as it had before. He was right. It didn’t seem nearly so bad. Since then, I’ve tried to remember what it’s like being a kid.”
She realized Beau would make a good father. A sigh forced its way past her lips. She hadn’t picked well when it came to a father for her child. Her nineteen-year-old husband had panicked and run when he realized there were serious problems to be faced.
Her parents had taken her and their grandchild in. Because of them, she’d weathered the storm of anger and grief and regret. Due to their loving support, she’d come through the ordeal a stronger person. With their help, she’d gone on to nursing school so she, too, could assist others in times of need.
Glancing up, she met the fathomless gaze of her companion. A feeling that all would come right, that here in this rugged country she would find the answers she sought, spread over her like a golden light. She smiled.
His lips curved in response.
Her smile grew.
He chuckled. “That’s better,” he said in a lower tone. “A real smile rather than a polite one.”
Their eyes locked. Time became suspended between one heartbeat and the next. She hadn’t trusted anyone outside her family since she was nineteen. Ten years. For a moment, caught in those incredibly blue eyes that seemed open clear to his soul, she relaxed her vigil. Warmth swept through her.
It was such an odd sensation that it took her a moment to recognize what it was and even longer to realize what had caused the acute stir of blood inside her.
An attraction. One that promised to be intense.
Her smile wavered. She wasn’t here for either a fling or even something more lasting. Her search for the truth of her past took precedence over everything else. Knowing that, she would then leave and start a new life in a new place.
Those were her plans.
Chapter Two
S helby was tired upon returning to the Lost Valley B and B that evening. After changing to a knit slacks outfit, she went to the large lobby and reception area. Several couples and a family with two children enjoyed the ambience of the common room.
The owner, Amelia Miller, called out a greeting upon seeing Shelby. “How did your day go with the kids?”
“Fine but tiring,” Shelby admitted. She chose a glass of iced wine cooler and a plate of fruit, cheese and veggies, then sat at a table for two overlooking the back garden. “You must have a green thumb,” she told her landlady when she stopped by the table.
“Nope, a dedicated gardener. I can do okay with African violets, but that’s my limit.”
“Join me if you have a moment,” Shelby invited.
Amelia nodded. “Let me refill the fruit tray, then I will.” She dashed off to the nether regions of the large Victorian that had been converted to a bed-and-breakfast.
Shelby watched the shadows lengthen over the lovely landscape. In the carriage house or barn or whatever it was behind the main house, she could see several people moving around. They appeared to be couples. Were they dancing?
Amelia returned with a glass of red wine. “Whew, I must be getting old or people are eating more. It’s harder to keep up nowadays.”
Since Amelia looked no more than a couple of years older than she was, Shelby ignored the age remark. She grimaced ruefully. “According to all reports, Americans are eating more.”
“So how was your first day, really?” Amelia asked. “Did Beau Dalton give you a hard time? Did you get heart palpitations as all the local gals do around the Daltons?”
Her laughter was so merry that Shelby had to laugh, too. “He is good-looking, but he was also professional.”
“Ah, yes. All the Daltons are dedicated to their jobs.”
Shelby, not knowing the family, didn’t comment. Instead she said, “He offered me a job in his office.”
“Did he? I suppose he could use more help. He has a nurse practitioner who’s also a midwife—she sees her own patients—and a receptionist who keeps the books, but he probably needs someone to assist him. It’s difficult to get help in a small town.”
“Hmm,” Shelby said noncommittally. “Has he been in business here long?”
“Before July he kept office hours in town, going from once to twice a week during the past year, but his main office was in the city. Last month he made the shift to here full time.”
Shelby had learned “the city” referred to Boise, which was over an hour’s drive south of the valley. “I see. Did he buy out another doctor’s practice?”
“No. Doc Barony died about ten years ago.”
Shelby knew Beau was too young to have had a practice there very long, but she’d hoped he had taken over another’s patients. That way, there might have been records going back several years, maybe to her birth.
“The house had been empty until Beau started up an office and brought in the midwife,” Amelia continued.
“The house?” Shelby asked, not sure what her landlady was talking about.
“Beau’s office. It belonged to the old doctor. The attic is still full of records, the receptionist said. She’s afraid the ceiling is going to fall in on her head.”
A jolt of excitement shot straight through Shelby. Records! Just what she wanted to get her hands on. But how?
Amelia finished her wine and stood. “Well, back to work. I see a new family arriving. How do you like your room? It’s rather small, so I worry about claustrophobia.”
“I love it,” Shelby assured the other woman, who had lovely auburn hair with golden highlights and a charming amount of natural curl, unlike her own flaming-red, string-straight locks that had been the scourge of her life.
With a satisfied nod, Amelia left. Shelby at once reverted to her own mission. If only she could accept Beau’s offer of a job. No, she already had too much to do. Maybe she could volunteer to sort through the old records, keeping the ones for current patients.
Why would anyone in her right mind volunteer for such a job? She couldn’t come up with a good reason.
A tall, masculine figure with dark hair and a smooth stride crossed a flagstone path, heading for the door near her table. Her heart gave an unexpected skip-thump-skip-thump before settling down when she realized the man was a stranger, one who looked awfully like Beau Dalton.
He paused as if hearing something, then turned, waiting for a lovely woman to catch up with him. She came from the carriage house, where, Shelby assumed, the man had also been.