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White Picket Fences
Tara Taylor Quinn
Come home to Shelter Valley where love lasts and families matter….Miranda Parsons is content with her life. She has a great job, a wonderful family, a lovely house. She has good friends. And she lives in a town where people know her, care about her. So what's missing?Passion–as she finds out when she meets Zack Foster.Zack's a veterinarian who's recently moved to Shelter Valley after the failure of a marriage he'd considered perfect. He still likes being with women, but now prefers his romances "short and sweet."Randi and Zack learn what it is to feel truly passionate about someone else–and they begin to want the passion they've discovered. But to get something, you have to give something up. Can they exchange contentment for happiness–even if greater happiness means greater risk?
“I’ve got a date tonight.”
“You do?” Becca couldn’t quite keep the excitement out of her voice, but Randi gave her full marks for effort. “Who with?”
“Zack Foster. He’s the new partner at the veterinary clinic.”
“Oh?”
Randi almost smiled at the eagerness her sister-in-law was trying so hard to conceal. Except that she felt so miserable, smiling wasn’t currently an option. “I can’t go,” she muttered.
“Why not?” There was curiosity and concern in Becca’s voice.
“I don’t know,” Randi admitted. “I’ve only met the man once, and he…he scares me.”
“Zack? I’ve only seen him a couple of times and he’s big, I’ll grant you. But a teddy bear.”
“It’s not that Zack scares me, exactly,” she said, staring down at the logo on her shoe. “When I was sitting in his office yesterday, it was almost like I’d been hypnotized. I was practically ready to agree to anything he said. It was the oddest sensation….”
Dear Reader,
I’m really glad you’ve decided to join me here in Shelter Valley. I’ve been visiting this town on and off for a while now, and I find it harder and harder to leave each time I have to return to my “other” world. There’s so much going on here—so many great people, so many stories to tell….
Like the story of Randi Parsons and Zack Foster. Now, here are two interesting people. They’re both attractive, successful, honest and hardworking—and they’re both living at home at a time when they should be starting families. Because underneath all the smiles they have scars no one else can see. They touched me, I think, because they’re like a lot of us who put on our smiles to face the world when deep inside there’s pain most people never know about. Pain that sometimes attacks us in the middle of our busy days with no warning at all. Pain brought on by seemingly inconsequential things—a song on the radio, a phrase someone uses, a person who looks like someone we once knew.
I admire Randi in particular because she won’t compromise who she is, even when that person won’t fit the stereotypes people expect her to fit. She’d rather be alone—forcing herself to be happy—than lose the person who lives inside her. She makes no apologies for her differences, while accepting extreme differences in those around her. She’s a fighter. And a dreamer. A difficult combination. But a great one, too.
And Zack…well, I’m pretty certain he’ll make your heart beat faster if nothing else. He’s my idea of a hero. He’s sexy, athletic, logical, capable and he has a huge heart. Many parts of my own true-life hero slipped in here when I wasn’t looking.
So…enjoy. And don’t worry. I’ve so enjoyed my time in Shelter Valley that I’m coming back soon! I hope you will, too.
Tara Taylor Quinn
I love to hear from readers. You can reach me at: P.O. Box 15065, Scottsdale, Arizona 85267-5065 or online at http://www.inficad.com/~ttquinn
White Picket Fences
Tara Taylor Quinn
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Thanks to the faculty and staff in the men’s and women’s athletic departments at Scottsdale Community College, Scottsdale, Arizona. Any accurate portrayals of life in the academic sports world must be attributed to them.
Any mistakes are my own.
Dedication:
For my mother, Penny Gumser,
who gave me life.
And for my editor, Paula Eykelhof,
who brings my dreams to life.
I couldn’t have done this without either one of you.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
SOMETHING WAS MISSING.
Trailing through her house, leaving lights on in her wake, Miranda Parsons frowned. Why did she have this odd empty feeling?
She’d painted her living room last summer; she’d bought a luscious daybed ensemble with matching everything for her spare bedroom over Thanksgiving. And now, during Christmas break, she’d given the kitchen a coat of yellow paint, papered the wall in the breakfast alcove with wildflowers and hung curtains.
Her little house was finally done as she’d envisioned when she’d bought it eighteen months before. She should be feeling satisfied. Complete.
Making her way down the hall, she scrutinized the master bedroom and en suite bathroom carefully for anything amiss. The maroon comforter and pillow shams, the plush towels in the bathroom, the hand-woven tapestry rug on the bedroom floor were all as they should be. As she wanted them.
She loved this house.
So what was missing?
It was Tuesday morning, the second of January. She had another week off before she had to report back to school, once again taking up her position as women’s athletic director at the university. Though she’d been hoping to get to Phoenix for several rounds of golf with some friends, it was equally important to make sure her living space was just right. She could do more here if she needed to.
If only the place would speak up, tell her what to do. There certainly wasn’t anyone else here to give her any suggestions.
Randi wandered outside. Shelter Valley’s blue skies and sunshine she took for granted, though she loved them, too. Even a temperature of 65 degrees in January was a given. The tiny patch of grass in her front yard was as green and verdant as it should be. The stucco finish on the house looked great.
Sitting on the boulder in her front yard—a costly bit of landscaping she was very happy with—Randi folded her arms and surveyed her property. Yep. She was still certain the place suited her.
So why in hell didn’t she feel complete?
She could get a pet. Except that she thought they were mostly nuisances.
Or a roommate. Yuck.
Maybe she needed Surround Sound. She was no electrician, but surely one of her brothers could be prevailed upon for his expertise. There had to be some benefit in putting up with the four of them.
Will was out—he was too busy being important at the university. And spending every spare minute of his life with his adorable baby girl.
Randi was spending a lot of spare minutes with the little miracle herself.
So maybe Paul could help her. He’d rewired his attic a few years ago. Surround Sound might be just the ticket.
Except she didn’t really want it. She was perfectly happy with her stereo system. She had digital cable television, too.
Her neighbor passed by, walking her dog. The little thing peed on the edge of Randi’s fertilized grass.
Maybe she needed a fence.
Yeah.
Looking around the perimeter of her front yard, noticing how it ran right off to the sidewalk without so much as a by-your-leave, she nodded. That was it. When she was growing up, she’d always had this image of a home with a picket fence. Probably got it from watching too many reruns of The Donna Reed Show or Leave It to Beaver.
Heaving a sigh of relief, Randi slid off her boulder and went back inside. Thank goodness that was settled. She probably didn’t have time this break to install a fence, which was fine with her; she could go to Phoenix and play as good a round of golf as she was still capable of playing.
But come spring break, she’d get this done.
All her life needed was a white picket fence.
HE’D MADE IT through New Year’s. Zack Foster heated up a frozen dinner Tuesday night, feeling rather proud of himself. He’d taken a dose of his own medicine—let the animals he cared for ease him into the barren new year. Pet therapy.
He’d spent New Year’s Eve with the boarders at the veterinary clinic, giving his employees the night off to be with family and friends. He’d walked the dogs, scratched the cats’ ears, thrown balls and given treats, filled bowls and water bottles, and graciously accepted his due of kisses and purrs.
Whistling as he pulled the foil off his steaming lasagna, he reflected on the previous day, pleased to know, firsthand, that the program he’d dedicated a good portion of his career to really worked. Animals, simply through their unconditional—and sometimes unsolicited—affection, could ease the burdens of human beings.
New Year’s Day, he’d been on duty, taking the emergency cases at the clinic—a dog hit by a car, a bird with a broken wing, a cat with a bleeding paw—so that his partner, Cassie Tate, could go to Phoenix with her parents and two youngest sisters to spend the day with her uncle and his family.
Yes, he’d done well. Was damn proud of himself. As a matter of fact, now that he’d made it through the last of the holidays, he deserved a beer.
A bit of tomato sauce dripped from the foil he’d removed from his dinner and plopped on the ceramic tile of his kitchen floor. Ignoring it, Zack deposited the foil in the trash and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator.
By the time he’d opened the bottle, the floor was clean. Thanks to Sammie, his canine garbage disposal.
“Good girl, Sam,” Zack praised the Sheltie. Sam wagged her tail, turned a circle and barked. Hearing her, Bear, his fifteen-year-old poodle-Pomeranian mix, trudged out to the kitchen to see what he’d missed. His chocolate-colored body seemed to move more slowly every day.
“Here you go, boy,” he said, dropping a bite of lasagna on the floor beneath Bear’s nose. And then, while the dog lapped heartily, he asked, “How’s that new arthritis medicine working?”
Bear licked his chops and, staring up at Zack, lay down right where he was.
“You’re all right, Bear, my man,” Zack said, testing the lasagna himself. “You’ve got a healthy heart, and we’ll find something that makes those bones of yours more willing to serve you.”
He took a swig of beer. And another. He’d had Bear since he was in high school. Didn’t look forward to the day when his pal would no longer be lying at his feet, silent but loyal company.
Lasagna long gone, kitchen cleaned and three beer bottles emptied, Zack took his fourth bottle out back to his patio and the seven-foot deep pool in his backyard. Sammie trotted at his heels, her mouth open in the smile she wore much of the time. Bear followed more slowly.
Flipping the switch beside the pump, Zack turned on the lights by the pool. The pool was heated; he could get in if he wanted to. But he didn’t feel much like swimming. After a long couple of weeks at the clinic, he really just wanted to sit.
Zack lounged in one of the two chaise longues that had been just about his only furniture for the first six months he’d owned this house. He didn’t move, except to retrieve another beer—and then the entire twelve-pack to save himself another trip in. Stars were out; he could look for the big dipper.
“It’s not you, Zack, it’s me….”
Dawn’s pretty face swam before his eyes, her intelligent compassionate voice ringing in his ears.
Zack shook his head, blinked until the lighted water in front of him came back into focus.
He didn’t need to relive it all again. He’d been over everything so many times it was mush. There was no point in revisiting any of this—ever. He’d looked at the breakup of his marriage from angles that mathematicians didn’t even know existed.
And the facts never changed.
It was why he’d come to Shelter Valley. To forget Dawn. To get away from the constant memories.
And because he’d been intrigued by Cassie’s offer of a partnership. Her timing had been impeccable.
He took another swig of beer. All he wanted was to relax. Maybe fall asleep out here, where the night air would keep him cool, where there were no walls to close him in.
