Chapter 5

Zoe had hated being married.Or maybe she'd just hated being married to Todd. But it's not like her parents hadn't given her a roadmap for the misery of marriage in the first place. Why she'd chosen to ignore everything she'd seen with her own eyes and chosen to believe that things would be different with Todd still confounded her. She could only chalk it up to a temporary lack of sanity.

Maybe her bad decisions had just been a moment of crisis as she'd turned thirty. So she'd let Todd sweep her up in the romance of it all, not paying any attention to the red flags that had been waving right in her face—like the fact she'd never been to his apartment or hadn't known exactly what he did for a living. Consultant covered a lot of bases. Mostly unemployed freeloader in her experience.

The honeymoon phase wore off after the first three months. She'd spent the next six months trying to figure out how to untangle herself from the situation. And then she'd spent the next two years fighting for her livelihood and not letting him walk out with everything she'd worked for. But in the end the judge had ruled that she didn't have to give him half of her intellectual property rights of every book she'd ever written. But she'd had to make some concessions for her freedom.

She stared at the text he'd sent and felt the knot in her stomach. For the next five years she'd be tied to him. He wanted his alimony payment early, because lo and behold, he was already out of money from last month's deposit.

She did a couple of deep-breathing exercises that her therapist had suggested and felt the rage that came along whenever she had to deal with Todd dissipate. From the moment they met until the moment she'd kicked him out, they'd known each other less than a year. He was but a small blip in her life. But it was amazing how just the sight of his name popping up on her phone could incite such a reaction.

Once the rage left and the blood stopped pounding in her ears, it was replaced with the headache that had nagged her through a fitful sleep. There was a whine to her right and she tried to stretch her neck to see where it was coming from. And then she remembered. She had a dog.

"Well, Chewy," she said, stretching out the kinks in her back. "I guess I haven't given you much of a welcome. Thank you for not chewing up my furniture."

He gave a soft woof and then unfolded his enormous body from the chair and padded toward her.

"You're a little bigger than I had in mind when I decided to get a dog," she confessed, scratching him behind the ears. "What did your owner feed you? Maybe we ought to cut it back a little."

He growled low in his throat and turned his back on her. And then his head cocked to the side and he gave out a different kind of bark—almost a warning.

Zoe would have rolled her eyes, but her head was hurting too bad. Leave it to her to end up with a dog who thought he was human. And a man at that. In her experience, you couldn't teach an old dog new tricks once they were set in their ways.

Her stomach rumbled and Chewy gave her an embarrassed look.

"Hey, I haven't eaten all day," she told him. "A little less judgment please. A lot has happened today. My divorce was finalized this morning. Imagine that, after two years it's finally over. And then to celebrate I got a haircut."

She touched the back of her neck as she sat up on the couch, marveling at the feel of nothing but skin. "You don't know what a big deal that is because you didn't know me before, but believe me, I look very different than I did yesterday."

Chewy woofed again and Zoe said, "Thank you," deciding he was giving her a compliment.

"And then I got you," she said. "And you know what happened after that."

Chewy lay down on the floor and covered his face with his paws, whining.

"I forgive you," Zoe said. "You were just excited. But we've got to work on listening to commands. I can't go around with concussions all the time. That's not conducive to creative book ideas."

The sun was still up, but she could tell by the positioning over the mountains that it was late afternoon. She'd been asleep a few hours at least. And she wondered if it was too soon to take more ibuprofen.

Just as she'd swung her legs to the floor there was a knock at the door.

"Oh, no," she said, looking at Chewy wide eyed. "I bet it's the sexy doctor. They do not make doctors like that in New York. And what's up with all the cheerfulness? I mean, who doesn't get in a bad mood from time to time? Can you even trust a person who's that good natured? The answer is no. There's no man out there who's just that ‘nice.' With the exception of you, of course."

Chewy made a sound like he was gargling marbles and padded over to the door, putting his paw on the knob like he was going to open it.

"Wait!" Zoe hissed. "Chewy, no. I've got to think. Dr. O'Hara is a scoundrel." It sounded better in her head if she didn't call him by his first name. She didn't want to become too familiar. "I write about these men in my books, so I know how to recognize one. You'll just have to trust me on that."

Chewy put his paw down and looked at her like she was crazy.

"Did you see the way he looked at me when I asked him why he wasn't tempted? You'd have thought we were standing naked in the garden with the serpent. I almost passed out on the spot. Do think he's married?" She waved her hand in dismissal. "It doesn't matter anyway because I've sworn off men forever."

There was another knock at the door, and Zoe figured it would be rude not to answer. He knew she was here. Besides, he was a doctor, and he'd taken an oath to do no harm. And she wouldn't put it past him to let himself in if she ignored him. He was a scoundrel after all.

* * *

Colt heard the knock on his door somewhere in his subconscious and groaned. It wasn't often he regretted living in the quarters above the clinic, but this was one of those times. He scrubbed his hands over his eyes and put his feet on the pine floor. He looked at his phone for the time and grunted. He'd had five full hours of sleep. That was more than he'd had the last two days combined.

"I've got homemade lasagna," his mother's voice called out through the door.

He grinned and scrubbed his hands over his face. The fan whirred over the king-sized bed and he clicked the remote so the shades rolled up and let in the sunlight. He pulled on a pair of soft flannel pants and a white T-shirt and padded his way through the apartment to the door.

"I figured that would get you to open up," Anne O'Hara said, grinning up at him in triumph.

He'd been taller than her since the seventh grade, but she'd always been a force to be reckoned with. She was petite in stature and mighty in presence, which had served her well on the stage. She'd started her career on Broadway before she'd taken one look at Mick O'Hara and followed him halfway across the country. Her red hair wasn't as vibrant as it had once been, but her eyes were still as blue and clear as ever. And they didn't miss much.

He took the lasagna and set it down and then wrapped her in a hug. The top of her head barely came to his chest.

"Ahh," she said. "This makes all those hours in the kitchen slaving over my homemade red sauce worth it. I've missed your hugs."

"It's been a busy week," he said.

"So I've heard." She looked him over from head to toe like only a mother could do. "You look like something the cat dragged in. I'm sorry I woke you. I'll make it a quick visit so you can go back to bed."

"No, it's fine. I needed to get up. I have patients to see to tonight."

"Hmm," Anne said, taking the lasagna and making her way toward the kitchen.

On the way she did a quick glance through the living area, whether she was looking for untidiness or signs of a woman he wasn't sure, but it made him smile anyway. His mother was, after all, still a mother. It didn't matter how old he got.

He inhaled the fragrant aroma of the lasagna and followed her into the kitchen. The evening sun glowed orange through the west windows in the living room and gleamed off the large island in his kitchen. It made him think of Zoe and her bare counters. Unlike her, he loved to cook and made good use of the appliances in the renovated kitchen. Fresh herbs grew on his windowsill and earthen stoneware was stacked in his cabinets.

"I didn't realize how hungry I was until I smelled your cooking," he said, taking a seat on a barstool while she made herself at home in the kitchen. "I didn't get a chance to eat lunch. Or breakfast," he added as an afterthought.

"I'm not surprised," she said. "I heard Juliette Martin finally delivered her baby."

"Nine pounds, nine ounces," Colt said. "It was a long and rough one."

She put on a pot of coffee and took two mugs from the hook. "Your bananas are going bad."

"I haven't had time to go to the store. Or eat them."

"You don't have to be a hero, you know," she said, leaning across the island and putting her hand to the side of his face. "All you have to do is call and help will always be on the way."

He took her hand with his own and kissed it. "I know it. And I love you for it. But that's just life. It gets busy and we all just go along as best we can."

"When did I get old enough to have a son with that kind of wisdom?"

"Just because you don't recognize your birthdays doesn't mean the rest of us stopped."

"Brat," she said, laughing and swatting his hand away. "And just because you've decided to be ornery, I'll tell you I know you haven't just been delivering babies today." She poured the coffee into the mugs and then pursed her lips. "I hear she's very pretty."

"Ha!" Colt said. "Let me guess. Mac told Aunt Simone about the woman who got knocked out in front of the clinic. And then Simone called you. And you figured you'd sweeten me up with a home-cooked meal so you could find out more about her."

She answered his grin with one of her own, but didn't deny it. "It's not every day we get new blood in Laurel Valley. Raven told Simone the woman is single."

"Raven knows her too?" Colt asked, though he wasn't surprised.

Raven's boutique was in the heart of downtown Laurel Valley. It was highly trafficked and very popular among locals and tourists. And his Aunt Simone owned The Lampstand. Between the two of them, there wasn't much that went past their notice.

"They were in the salon this morning at the same time," Anne said. "Raven said she really felt for the girl. She said beneath all that confidence and bravado is someone who is hurting deeply."

"Raven got all that from a hair appointment?" Colt asked. He took a sip of the coffee his mother handed him while she doctored hers with enough cream and sugar that it couldn't really be called coffee anymore. He'd learned to drink it black in medical school and he'd never gotten out of the habit. The caffeine brought a much-needed jolt to his system.

"You know how intuitive Raven is," she said, shrugging. "I heard the girl hit her head pretty hard. Is she okay?"

"Her name is Zoe," Colt said. "And yes, she's okay. Just a concussion. And a nice-sized lump on her forehead. She adopted Lawrence Fisher's dog and he got away from her."

"Rest his soul," Anne said. "I couldn't believe his own brother sold all his belongings and took the money from the sale, and then sent that poor dog to the shelter. I told your father we could take him, but after the baby goat episode he said I can't bring any more animals home."

Colt hid his smirk behind his coffee cup. The year before his mother had decided what their ranch needed was baby goats. She was going to open up goat yoga at the ranch and make a killing. But the goats had caused more mischief than they were worth. They'd figured out how to open the pens and let the horses out, and they liked to sneak in through the dog door and help themselves to the food in the kitchen.

"Well, the dog has a good home now," Colt said. "They'll be good company for each other. I think they're both lonely."

"And what do you think about her?" Anne asked, arching a brow.

"I think she's my patient," Colt said. "And that she has a concussion."

"Raven said she was beautiful," Anne said. "And that she's freshly divorced."

"Fascinating," Colt said, his eyes wide. "And what else did the local gossips say? You know that's a sin, right? I'm going to tell Reverend Hughes you and Simone are at the center of a major gossip ring, and I bet he'll make a whole sermon about you like that time when Joe Donnelly was cheating on his wife and he called him out right in the middle of service."

"Hmm," Anne said primly. "It's not gossip when you're looking out for your favorite next to youngest son's future. I'm just saying, maybe don't count her out because she's your patient. You're not getting any younger you know."

"Count her out for what?" he asked, pinning her down.

She rapped him lightly on the side of the head and said, "For a wife, fool. You're too old to keep dating those sorority girls and nitwits."

"You're the second person today to tell me what you think about the women I've dated," he said, narrowing his eyes.

"Well then, it must be true," she said sweetly. "Maybe this woman is exactly what you need. My only desire is that all my children are happy and healthy. The desires of your heart are the desires of my heart."

She took his hand and squeezed it gently. His parents had always been a stable constant in his life. They'd nurtured, loved, corrected, laughed, and released him and his four brothers into adulthood knowing they would always have the support of the O'Hara family behind them. And they'd always given him and his brothers the room to make mistakes and learn from them.

"Well," he said, his voice husky. "It just so happens I've already come to that conclusion. And I think you'll like her very much. She's stubborn and has a quick wit, and she's not afraid to tell you what she thinks. And I have every intention of taking a shower and then taking this lasagna over to her place to see how my patient is holding up."

"And maybe this time she won't throw up on your shoes," Anne said, winking. She took his empty cup and rinsed them both in the sink before she put them in the dishwasher.

"It's scary how fast word travels," he said, shaking his head. "You and Simone should be ashamed of yourselves, making Mac one of your informants. It's bad enough you have Raven at the boutique, Dylan at the mechanic shop, and Hattie at the sporting goods store. Do you really need to bring a kid into your nefarious ring of busybodies?"

"Oh, stop it," she said, laughing. "It's not my fault everyone is so well placed in the community. They're just there, going about their business, and things happen right in front of them. That's no one's fault. Besides, we're a founding family. It's our duty to stay informed so we can care for those in the community."

"Mmmhmm," he said. "That's a nice spin. You should stick with that one."

"Thank you," Anne said. "Well, my work here is done. You need to take care of yourself. You're working too much and too hard. And call your brothers. They're all worried about you."

"Yes, that sounds like them," Colt said, laughing. "But I'll be there for dinner after church on Sunday."

Anne smiled, pleased with the announcement, and then she gave him a hug and let herself out. No doubt to go share what she'd learned with Aunt Simone. Colt laughed and headed to the shower. Maybe he could talk Zoe into Sunday dinner.