Small-Town Bachelor

“Don’t be so sure,” she said. “You’ll probably get a new cast in two or three weeks.”

“What do you mean?” He shifted, flinching as his foot bumped the bed rail.

“Your leg will shrink, and this cast won’t fit. Plus, the doctors check your progress often. Don’t get too attached to your current one.”

“And here I was going to name it. Way to ruin it for me. How do you know so much about this anyway?”

“I have three brothers. In and out of the hospital all the time growing up. I’m also a vet tech.”

Her brothers had been at the rehearsal dinner. They seemed like fun guys. “What’s a vet tech? Something with cats, dogs and computers?”

“Something like that, minus the computers. I’m a veterinary technician at a local clinic now.”

“Is it temporary or something?”

Pink tinted her cheeks. “No, it’s permanent, but ever since I can remember, I’ve wanted to work for the zoo. I’ve volunteered there for years. A position is opening up later this summer.”

“Why don’t you work there already?”

She averted her eyes. “I had a chance once. But I turned it down. I won’t again.” She picked at the edge of the gauze on her hand. “Jobs are hard to come by at our zoo. They don’t have a large budget, and when they hire someone, the person tends to stay.”

He shrugged. “Work for a different zoo, then.”

Her blank stare bored into him for a solid three seconds. Why was she looking at him as if he’d turned green?

“What?” he asked. “What did I say?”

“There aren’t any other zoos around here.”

“So? Move.”

“Nope.” She brushed her hands together in a dismissive motion. “Did that once. Lost my dream job and my heart in one fell swoop. I’m staying here, in Lake Endwell, where I belong. But hey, I didn’t come in here to bore you with my life story.”

Boring? Claire? Not possible. There had to be more behind her tale. One he wanted to hear someday.

“What’s next?” she asked. “I mean, what happens now with your leg and all?”

What was next? Dinner, a movie, a good-night kiss? What was it about her that mellowed him? Brought out his playful side?

Her mention of losing her heart must have jarred his brain. Talk about bad timing for getting the urge to flirt. Maybe the painkillers were messing with his head.

“I was supposed to be off to Alaska. Looks like I’m heading back to Chicago instead.”

“Alaska?” Her voice rose on the last syllable. “Why?”

He sighed. It rankled—having to cancel the trip. “I always wanted to explore the wilderness. Get back to nature for a month. Ride the ferries. See whales. Fish.”

“I’m sorry, Reed.” She did look sorry. “Sounds like something you’ve been planning for a long time.”

“Yeah. Well, what do you do?”

Neither spoke as muffled conversations of doctors and nurses in the hallway and beeping sounds filtered through the room. Then she perked up.

“You can stay here. We have wilderness—well, a lake anyway. And Granddad’s cottage is handicap accessible. You can fish off the end of the dock.”

He didn’t mean to grimace, but staying in Lake Endwell? In close proximity to Dad and Barbara? “I’ll take my chances in Chicago.”

She scolded him with her stare. How did women do that? “You’re going to be in a lot of pain. Do you have anyone who can take care of you?”

“I don’t need anyone taking care of me.”

“Men,” she muttered. “Listen, there’s no way the doctor is going to let you get on a plane for at least a week. You can ride it out in this noisy hospital room or relax in a beautiful cabin on the lake. Seems like an easy choice to me.”

She had a point. He waved to his leg. “I can’t sit around here forever.”

“No one said anything about forever. Just until you get back on your feet. Literally.”

He chuckled. Beautiful and funny? Killer combination.

Maybe staying in a cottage on the lake wasn’t such a bad consolation prize. And why worry about being around Dad and Barbara? They would avoid him as usual.

Wouldn’t they?

There was a chance—a slight chance—for him and Dad to work through their problems. If not, it didn’t matter. Reed could spend more time with Jake. He missed him.

“Guess it wouldn’t hurt.” He shrugged. “It’s not like they’re expecting me at work.”

“See?” She beamed. “There you go. What do you do anyway?”

“Commercial construction. Until yesterday, I was the senior project manager, but they’re promoting me to vice president. I’ll take over mid-July when the current VP retires.”

“Wow!” Her whole face lit up. “Vice president. Congratulations. And you work in construction? Lake Endwell could sure use some help with that. I guess the town was hit pretty hard.”

Main Street of Lake Endwell stuck in his head. The historic brick storefronts, bright red and navy awnings, flowers planted everywhere. Had the twister demolished the village? Would be a shame. He’d always had a soft spot for picturesque American towns. But helping them rebuild might give him something to do other than sitting around staring at his cast. “Did your house get damaged?”

“I don’t think so. Trees are still blocking my road, but the reports sound good so far.” Her chipper tone didn’t mask the anxiety in her eyes. Tendrils from her ponytail wrapped around her neck. “If you stay for a while, we’ll be neighbors, so I’ll make sure you’re fed. Wait—let me rephrase that—I’ll bring over Aunt Sally’s delicious food. You don’t want me to cook.”

He laughed but frowned inside. Was she this generous with everyone? This trusting? They’d only met a few hours ago, and she was already treating him like...one of the family.

“You don’t even know me,” Reed said.

“What are you talking about?” Her nose scrunched as she waved her hand. “You’re Jake’s brother. You’re family.”

His hunch was right. The fact that she’d tossed him into that category sobered him more than a bucket of ice water to the face.

“You’re probably tired. I’ll let you get some sleep.” She covered his hand with hers. “Thanks again, for being there during the tornado, for protecting me.”

He slid his hand out from under hers. “I didn’t do much.”

“Didn’t do much?” she said. “I could have—”

“It was nothing.” Too abrupt, his tone, but he couldn’t help it.

“Whatever you say, Reed.” And she padded out of the room.

Yes, if he was staying in Lake Endwell, he needed a powerful distraction from his pretty neighbor.

His experience with disaster relief provided the perfect excuse. There would be too much work for the local builders to complete by themselves. He’d make calls to find the best construction crews in the surrounding counties and help get the rebuilding efforts started. But as soon as the doctor cleared him, Reed was hightailing it back to Chicago.

Chapter Two

Exhaustion turned her legs to sandbags. As soon as she left Reed’s room, Claire returned to the hospital’s main waiting area and craned her neck to spot her dad. Assured Reed would be okay, she wanted nothing more than to go home and make sure the otters were safe. She’d go on foot if necessary.

“Oh, honey, you’re fortunate you survived.” Aunt Sally’s bleach-blond hair bounced and her disco-ball earrings bobbed like fishing lures on the lake. “I don’t know how either of you made it out without more severe injuries. Joe called. He said the restaurant is a wreck. The dining hall’s intact, but the back rooms are destroyed. I’m so glad you’re okay.” She embraced Claire again. “You’re going to fall over if you don’t park it.”

“Where’s Dad?” Claire hugged her arms into her abdomen. “I’ve got to get home.”

“I’ll find him. You sit.”

Claire collapsed in the chair. Her other family members clutched foam coffee cups and chatted in clusters, filling the space. To see Tommy, Bryan, Sam, Libby and everyone else alive and healthy after the awful night—it humbled her. Thank You, Lord, for protecting everyone I love.

“Your face looks terrible.” Libby took the chair next to Claire. Her long blond hair hadn’t been brushed, and her eyes were red rimmed from crying. “Aren’t you supposed to have this ice pack on it?”

“It’s nothing. I’m more worried about you. How are you holding up?” Claire accepted the ice pack from Libby and pressed it to her cheek, flinching when the cold stung her bruise. “I’m sorry about the wedding. We’ll get it all planned and perfect again.”

“I’m just glad you’re alive.”

“Me too.”

“When I think about the restaurant and everything ruined... We should be at the church right now.” A stream of tears gushed down Libby’s cheeks, and Claire pulled her close, rubbing her back. Jake came over and took Libby in his arms. Claire shot him a grateful smile, struck at the similarities between him and Reed. Both hovered around six feet tall and shared a muscular build. Libby took a tissue from Aunt Sally while Jake checked his watch.

“Man, I feel so bad for Reed.” Jake sighed. “He gets into town and this happens. And he was supposed to leave for Alaska right after the wedding. Claire, thanks again for taking care of him.”

“Don’t feel bad. It wasn’t your fault. And it was the least I could do after Reed saved my life. If he hadn’t protected me, I would have been the one crushed under the tree. Or worse.” She shuddered. “I think I have him talked into staying in Granddad’s cottage until he’s recovered a bit.”

“Good idea! And thank the good Lord he showed up when he did.” Aunt Sally clapped her hands to get the room’s attention. “It’s been a long night and an even longer morning. Why don’t you all take a break at my house for a few hours? A lot of cake will go to waste if we don’t start eating it.”

“The wedding cake?” Libby paled. “I can’t eat that! It’s supposed to be—”

“It’s food.” Aunt Sally wrapped her arm around Libby. “We’ll make another when you get a new wedding date.”

Libby swallowed and nodded, walking with Sally to the door as the groups dispersed.

Tommy, Bryan and Sam approached Claire. “Come on, you can ride with us.”

“Still no word on the otters?” She nibbled the corner of her lower lip. “Have you called Dad lately? Is the road clear?”

Tommy swiped his hand over his eyebrow. “The otters are fine—”

“How do you know?” Her voice rose. Maybe Tommy checked on them. “Did you get through?”

“No, but—”

“Don’t patronize me, Tommy. I’m responsible for them until they move to the zoo. And I’m having a hard enough time thinking about them leaving next month. If they were hurt or worse—”

“Stop. I got it.” Tommy extended his palms out in defense and widened his eyes at Bryan, who held a cell phone against his ear. “Well?”

Bryan slid the phone back into his pocket. “Didn’t answer.” He glanced at the elevator. “Oh, that’s why.”

Dad strode to them and patted Claire’s shoulder. “The crews have most of your road clear, Claire-bear. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Claire-bear. Dad must have been worried sick last night. He hadn’t used his pet name for her in years.

“Thanks, Dad.”

Ten minutes later, Dad drove the back roads to the lake. It was turning out to be a beautiful, sunny day, but branches and trees littered the ground. Half a mile from town, a partially destroyed building with a caved-in roof spilled insulation out the missing side wall.

Damaged roofs, pole barns stripped to their frames, rubble-covered sidewalks, furniture strewn through the streets, cars flipped over in yards—everywhere Claire looked there was devastation.

“Whoa,” she said. “Is it like this all over?”

Dad slowed to avoid a set of patio cushions. “One side of Main Street is unrecognizable. The twister took out several roofs in the new subdivision and ripped up trees on a warpath to the restaurant, but it curved away from there. That’s what I’m being told, at least.”

She hoped he was right. Lake Endwell was a small community. Claire biked everywhere, including the quaint downtown, the veterinary clinic, the church and her father’s house. Most of Lake Endwell was within two miles of her home. She drove to volunteer at the zoo, though. The thirty-minute commute gave her time to think.

They neared her road, a narrow paved lane winding down to the lake. Large sections of newly cut tree trunks had been rolled to the shoulder. Dad’s truck drove over smaller branches and leaves. Claire held her breath. Other than a flipped boat and some minor oddities, there didn’t seem to be any severe damage. She leaned forward.

Granddad’s huge old cabin rose proudly against the sparkling turquoise lake. Over sixty years old, the cabin with its hunter-green siding, white trim and white wraparound decks still impressed. A spacious, welcoming vacation spot—she never tired of gazing at it from her porch next door. A driveway and lawn separated their properties. What she wouldn’t give to wave to Granddad each morning, the way she had done when he was alive. Even when he became wheelchair bound, he lived in this beautiful home. The family made it completely handicap accessible so he could wake up to his view of the lake every morning. After he died, it became the go-to place for any out-of-town guests.

Claire’s smaller, butter-yellow cottage came into view. Still standing. She let out the breath she’d been holding. The window boxes Dad had built last year spilled pink and purple petunias, giving it the homey air she adored. He cut the engine, and, muscles protesting, she shot out of her seat. The sun warmed her face as she raced to the back fence, fumbled with the handle and charged into the backyard, stopping short.

What a mess.

The winds had wreaked havoc back here. The entire forest seemed to have fallen on her lawn, and her two lounge chairs had disappeared. The patio umbrella dangled upside down against the corner of the fence.

No signs of the otters. Her heart dropped to her stomach.

She would not panic.

They were here. They had to be here.

She ran to the cellar, hoping, praying. Down the slippery, damp concrete steps, into the cool darkness. She waited for her eyes to adjust. Her gut clenched. Please...

There. In the corner, Hansel and Gretel slept, all curled around each other. Quietly, she went to them, softly petting each to confirm they were alive. Hansel lifted his head, his nose high in the air, and yawned before tucking back under Gretel’s body. Their distinctive musk brought tears to Claire’s eyes.

“Well, hello to you too.” She grinned, straightening. “I can see the storm didn’t bother either of you.”

A loud noise brought her back up the cellar steps. The small pond would need to be cleared of leaves and sticks, but she could safely leave the otters alone. Shading her eyes, she looked up—Dad had already found the ladder, climbed to her roof and was pounding loose shingles back in place.

“This will only take a minute, Claire. You don’t want these flapping off in the next storm. Why don’t you go in and grab something to eat? Or better yet, go to bed.”

Her stomach growled. How long had it been since she last ate?

At the welcome sight of her living room, her sanctuary, her knees almost buckled. She’d sit a minute. Just a minute.

Unable to fight her sheer lack of energy, she sank into the couch. A million worries raced. Although the wedding made Claire wary, she sympathized with Libby. It would be terrible to come so close only to have a tornado destroy the plans. Claire would bring her some flowers and brownies and let her cry on her shoulder for half the night if need be. She would be there for Libby, the way she always was and always would be.

And what about Reed? Stuck in the hospital, far away from home. At least he had his parents and Jake.

She burrowed deeper into the pillow. Reed was going to need a lot of care. The cast, wheelchair...pain.

A guy like him always got snatched up, but yesterday, Aunt Sally told her he was single. Claire yawned. Single, schmingle. Who cared? She’d thumped the final nail in her romantic-notions coffin long ago. If Justin hadn’t convinced her to give up on men, Dr. Jerk Face had. A Tuesday girl...

Nope. Wasn’t going there.

Images from last night danced in her mind—hanging the balloons, the comfortable feeling she always got in Uncle Joe’s Restaurant, Reed coming in dripping wet, the sirens...

The rest swirled like the storm that held them hostage until she fell asleep.

* * *

If Reed had to guess, he’d say his ankle resembled one of the bloated balloons in Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Snoopy, probably. The swelling pressed against the inside of his cast, a painful reminder of his captivity. His foot felt as though it weighed at least seven hundred pounds. When would it stop throbbing?

“Claire, do you still have those yoga blocks?” Sally, the barely five-foot-tall woman who could command an army general, stepped away from the couch with a throw pillow in hand. She fluffed it twice. Dale, Claire’s dad, was doing who knew what in the bedroom. This was the weirdest Monday morning Reed had spent in...well...ever.

“Yoga blocks? What are those?” Dale’s voice carried. “We need more hangers. I’ve got three shirts to hang up and no hangers.”

Claire poked her head in through the open sliding door, where she swept twigs and leaves off the deck. “The blocks are in my closet. Should I get them?”

“Yes, and grab a bunch of hangers while you’re at it.” Sally wore jeans rolled up at the ankles and a Race for the Cure T-shirt. Flamingo earrings grazed her shoulders.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Claire disappeared.

“Yoga blocks, Dale,” Sally’s voice echoed as she tucked the pillow behind Reed’s neck. “You remember—those blue foam dealies from last year when Libby convinced her to take Marissa’s class.”

Reed studied the cottage’s living area. Streams of sunlight flooded the hardwood floors, and the warm lake breeze tickled the edges of the white sheer curtains. If he wasn’t in so much pain, he’d like it here. Well, he’d like it better if the Sheffields weren’t making such a fuss.

Sally hovered over him. The woman seemed to be everywhere at once. She and Dale were clearly siblings—Reed had never seen two people with so much energy.

“How are you feeling?” Sally brushed his hair from his forehead. “Do you want a drink? A painkiller?”

Reed inhaled with a hiss. He wanted to tell her he was fine. He didn’t need yoga blocks—whatever they were. Or tender motherly touches. Or pillows behind his head. But the skyrocketing throbs prevented him from speaking. He shook his head, not even attempting to smile.

Sally made a clucking noise. “You don’t need to suffer. I’m getting one of those pills.”

Dale trekked back into the living room. “Marissa... Marissa... Oh, you mean the Schneider girl? She teaches yoga? Huh. They still taking the class?”

“Nope. Claire hated it.” With a glass in one hand and a prescription bottle in the other, Sally pivoted around the kitchen counter. “Marissa got on some odd hot yoga bandwagon. Claire said it made her too sweaty. And Libby didn’t want to do it without Claire.” She handed Reed a pill and the water, then stood there until he had no choice but to swallow it. She stacked pillows under Reed’s cast for the eighth time, propping his aching foot up. “Reed, you need to wiggle your toes.”

He gripped the edge of the cushion. No way he was putting his foot in more agony.

“Come on, now. Wiggle those toes. Don’t make me call the doctor.”

“Fine.” Reed concentrated until the big toe moved. A flash of heat spread through his torso, and a bead of sweat dripped down his temple past his ear.

“Good job!” Sally said. “Keep moving them whenever you think of it. You’ll heal faster.”

Dale hustled to the kitchen—the living room, kitchen and dining room were one large open space—and rummaged through a drawer. “His suitcase is unpacked. Should I stop at the store? Get some groceries?” Paper in hand, he returned to stand next to Sally and clicked a pen. “Tell me what he needs.”

“Crackers, soda, things that are easy on the stomach. Doubt he’ll want much to eat today. I’m sure he’ll have more of an appetite tomorrow.”

Reed ground his teeth together. Why were they talking about him as if he weren’t there?

“Reed?” Sally leaned over him. “We’re going to the store. What can we get you?”

His head swam. “My phone and laptop.”

She laughed. “You don’t need those. You need to rest. I meant, what kind of food do you like—snacks, soda, fruit? We’ll get it for you.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Oh, hush. There’s no stopping us. Help us make up this list, and we’ll get out of your hair for a while so you can sleep.”

Dale cleared his throat. “I’ll get your phone and your laptop.”

“He shouldn’t be working.” Sally narrowed her eyes at Dale.

“The man needs his electronics.” Dale disappeared again.

Reed’s neck relaxed. Dale had just gone up a notch in his book.

“Let’s start with produce. Bananas? Apples? Watermelon?” Sally hashed out a grocery list at least fifty items too long, but she kept naming off foods and wouldn’t listen to Reed’s objections.

Dale dragged the coffee table closer to the couch, plugged in Reed’s laptop and set his phone on the table. “Need any help before we take off?”

Reed shook his head.

“Take a nap,” Sally said. “And keep wiggling those toes.”

She walked to the front door with Dale at her heels. They kept up a steady stream of conversation all the way out. Reed moved his toes once more. Broke out in another sweat at the effort. Then he stared at the vaulted wooden ceiling.

Trapped.

In more ways than one.

The car ride from the hospital to the cottage had been agonizing. Every bump, every turn, every tap on the breaks ignited his leg. The jolting wheelchair ride up the ramp to the cabin had sent him to level nine on the pain scale. And moving him to the couch? He might be stuck in this exact position for two weeks, because he was not going through that torture again.

“Yoo-hoo.” Claire sailed in through the front door. “I’ve got the blocks.”

“You just missed them.” Reed twisted his neck to watch her. She wore a white T-shirt with I Love My Zoo in black letters. He pointed at her face. “The bruise under your eye is turning purple.”

“Yeah, I try to coordinate my injuries with my clothes. Less need for makeup.” She swiped her hand down the air in front of her lavender running shorts. “You like?”

He did like. And he’d smile but his leg tortured him. The painkillers could not kick in soon enough.

“I’m not sure what Aunt Sally wants with these.” Claire held a large paper bag with blue foam peeking out and a bundle of hangers. “But I’ve learned not to ask questions. The woman is a master. Hey, does your dad know you were released this morning? I didn’t even think to call him. Should I call him now?”

“No!” The word came out sharper than he intended. “I mean, no, it’s Monday, right? He’s at work. I’ll call him later.”

“Yes, it’s Monday.” A quizzical look flashed across her face, but she brightened. “Okay. So I’m sure Jake’s told you the latest wedding drama.”

Jake hadn’t, but Reed wasn’t ready to admit it. He’d play along. “What’s Libby take on it?”

Claire plopped into the tan chair kitty-corner from the couch. “Let’s say the idea of a cake-only reception didn’t go well.”

“Why only cake?” He had no experience with weddings or much of anything besides his job and the parks in the Chicago vicinity. His mountain bike had seen them all. How long would it be until he could ride again?

“Uncle Joe’s Restaurant is closed indefinitely. Every other hall is booked. The church is too. So their options have dwindled.” She rubbed her arm, concern in her eyes.

“What are they going to do?”

“I’m not sure. Libby and I spent so much time getting all the details perfect—it will be hard for her to let go.”

Reed’s cell phone rang. His boss. “Claire, do you mind if I take this?”