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Neither would she. Not until she’d exhausted every last possibility.
Dermot DeWitt’s name would not be smirched by bankruptcy.
Not if Dani could help it.
Chapter One
W asn’t home supposed to be the place you ran to when things got tough? So why did she want to run away from the only home she’d ever known?
“It just doesn’t feel the same anymore, Duke.”
Dani curled her fingers in the horse’s thick black mane and surveyed the acres of ranch land that legally bore her name. The warm April winds had nudged the grass into a rich green, encouraged the wildflowers to bloom, melted the tufts of snow that tried to cling to the shadowed clefts of the hills. She could be a thousand miles away and picture this scene, and yet still it didn’t feel right.
“The Double D isn’t home. Not without Daddy.”
Maybe it was the denim-striped overalls her father had wrapped up every year for Christmas, no matter how old she was. Maybe it was growing up on a ranch without a mother to curb her tomboy ways. Maybe it was because her best friend had always been a horse. Whatever the reason, most folks in Blessing had always accepted that Dani belonged on the Double D as much as syrup belonged on flapjacks.
Once, Dani would have agreed.
From her earliest years she’d ridden the perimeter of the ranch while chilly spring blazed into summer. She’d endured blizzard winters when going to town was impossible, and scorching summers when water became more precious than gold. She’d watched new colts wobble to their feet, spent hours waiting for the sun to turn bloodred before it slipped off the horizon. During all those years, Dani reveled in being in exactly the right place.
Until now.
Was it just because she’d been away at college for four years that she was only now realizing what a lonely life they’d led? Was that why Dermot had mortgaged his beloved land for her, so she’d know a different world than that of the Double D? Did it matter why? She was in hock up to her eyebrows and she had to get out.
“Stop whining, girl!” she ordered herself out loud. She didn’t need anyone’s shoulder to bawl on. She’d manage just fine on her own. Daddy would have expected that.
“We’ve got to stop thinking about what was, don’t we, Duke.”
Duke snorted as if to remind her that the past was hard to forget when the bank statements kept arriving.
“I have to put it out of my mind for tonight, though. There’s that meeting at church about the dinner theater, and I’m in charge.”
She’d agreed to help, believing that something other than the ranch and its debt baggage would be a relief to think about. Instead she’d encountered even more problems—when the director left town.
“Can I tell you a secret, Duke? I wish someone else would have volunteered to direct. I’m so tired of being in charge.”
Reality check. There was no one else. Not for the Double D and apparently not for the dinner theater. The onus fell on her.
A whisper touch to his flanks sent Duke galloping across the tufted spring grass of her Colorado pasture as if chased by a pack of yapping dogs. Dani leaned over his neck and felt the wind whipping her hair as Duke galloped toward home—home for as long as she could hang onto it, at least.
At the barn she took her time brushing the big horse down, added a scoop of oats to his feed, ensured his water was topped up. For herself, a quick wash in hot, soapy water, a tug of the brush through her mop of black shiny curls and a change in jeans was enough. Funny how those jeans always made her feel taller, especially when she put her boots on. And goodness knows Dani could use a boost in height. She just hated being short, and no matter how tall your boots were, five foot three was short.
A routine check of the reflection in the mirror made her shrug. She’d do. Her lashes were thick enough to fringe her green eyes—“cat eyes,” Daddy had called them. Not that she’d bothered with mascara since coming home. Life was too short and there were too many things to do on the ranch to fuss about makeup. Besides, her lipstick never stayed on longer than it took to smudge, and she’d never mastered the art of powder or foundation.
Dani stuck her tongue out at herself and giggled. Who cared what she looked like anyway? She was alone most of the time. Tonight she simply had a job to do.
Her father’s ancient half-ton truck sped her off the ranch and into Blessing Township efficiently enough that Dani decided to ignore its belch of protest when she shut off the engine.
“Don’t even think about it, Red.” She glared at one rusted fender. “The lead character’s taken a hike, the cook’s left for California, and I stupidly agreed to direct a play we’re to put on in four months—with no lead actor. On top of everything else, I’ve got to figure out my next move with the ranch. I have no time to tinker with you.”
“Excuse me?”
She whirled around, her eyes wide with shock. Nobody ever snuck up on Dani. Back in her school years, hard experience had taught teasing boys that she hated to be surprised. Maybe she’d lived down her reputation?
“Yes?”
Dani studied the handsome man before her, measured his sleepy brown eyes with their tiny fans of crinkles. He had the kind of smile you immediately trusted, which was exactly why she kept up her guard. Hadn’t she learned the hard way that nothing was ever as it seemed? This lean man in his crisply pressed clothes sent a rush of energy through her bloodstream. Suddenly she wished she’d bothered with the mascara.
Just as quickly, Dani told herself to forget it. She had known a man as attractive as this one, and she’d been burned. It wouldn’t happen again.
Who was he, anyway?
Dani thought she knew everyone in town, but she didn’t know him. Did she? She took a second look at his uncombed mop of sandy hair and mentally shook her head. Nope. It was hardly likely she’d forget a man who looked as he did—loose-limbed, lanky, easygoing, as if he was comfortable in his skin and didn’t care what anyone else thought. In fact, he was so relaxed, he made her feel uptight.
A flickering memory of a church potluck dinner given to welcome Blessing’s newest doctor… It was right after Dr. Darling’s accident. She’d been home for a weekend, she remembered. Dermot had wanted to leave church immediately to tend a sick calf, but everyone else had stayed. What was his name? Duke? she wondered, then nodded. Just like her horse.
“Can I help you, Dr. Duke?” she asked.
“Uh, actually it’s Luc. Lucas Lawrence. But you did get the other part right. I am a doctor.” He grinned, then his eyes widened. “Have you hurt yourself?”
“No.” Why would he ask that? Dani followed his glance down, saw the jagged tear across her knee. Oh yeah. The rip. Well, mending was not her forte, even if she’d had time. “Thanks, but I’m fine. Just running a little late.”
She turned, headed for the church. Behind her, his feet rattled on the pebbled surface. He was following her? Dani frowned, faced him.
“Maybe I can help you?” she offered, suspicion evident in her voice. She never used to be that way, but lately, well—
The doctor shook his head, grinned.
“I don’t think so, but thanks anyway. I’ve been here long enough to know where the church is.” He waited for her to move forward, and when she didn’t, he walked around her, moved up the sidewalk and pulled open the church door. Half bending at the waist, he waved a hand as if to usher her inside. “After you, madam.”
A decidedly English accent.
“Thanks.” Dani stepped through the doorway, then stopped, her mind busy. Dr. Duke—no Luc—was perfect for the part. Tall, handsome—in a mussed sort of way. He spoke clearly, enunciated his words without drawling the vowels. “Say that again, please,” she requested. “With the accent.”
His eyes widened, but he obediently repeated the phrase.
“Excellent. You’ll make a perfect Inspector Merrihew.” She lowered her voice, leaned forward. “I’m pretty sure the part’s yours, but please don’t say anything. Not just yet, anyway.”
“I beg your pardon? What part is mine?” Dr. Luc jerked to a halt, blinked at her, his brilliant smile faltering. His chocolate-brown eyes lost their sleepy look, darkened to a concerned brown-black; his body lost that slouchy appearance.
“Shh.” She checked over each of her shoulders, then leaned toward him. “Inspector Merrihew. The tryouts are tonight. Isn’t that why you’re here?”
“Uh, no.”
Dani frowned. Big Ed Warner wanted that part and wanted it badly. But Big Ed could in no way be made over into an English police inspector, not even if they pried away his ten-gallon hat, goaded his size fifteens from their hand-tooled cowboy boots, and raced him around town until he lost his paunch. Big Ed was a cowboy, plain and simple—a John Wayne wannabe.
“The thing is, I— Uh, that is, I was hoping I could help—”
“You can help. Accepting this part would be the biggest help, believe me.” Dani took pity on his confusion. “Go ahead and grab a seat in the fellowship hall, Doc. I’ve got to get something from the pastor, then I’ll be there.”
“But— But—”
“Don’t worry. You’ll do fine.” Dani tossed an encouraging smile over her shoulder, then strode toward the office, hoping she was right about this new guy. A doctor should be able to act. Didn’t they have to hide their emotions when they gave a patient bad news? This Lucas Lawrence might just be the answer she’d prayed for.
The pastor was out on a hospital call, but, as promised, he’d left the fax from the orphanage officials lying on his desk. Dani’s eyes widened at the dollar figure scrawled across the bottom. Total cost for renovations needed before we can reopen. Tell Dani we’d love to see her again. There’s lots of work here.
Dani brushed away the tear before it could drop. Two short-term mission trips to Honduras after a terrible hurricane devastated the area had left her appreciative of everything she’d once taken for granted. She’d worked hard to accomplish much in those one-month stints at the orphanage. But now they needed more than a girl with a hammer. They needed money to rebuild.
“Money they’ll receive—if we can just get this show off the ground.”
She squeezed her eyes closed and whispered another prayer for help. First the ranch and Daddy—now this. Was all the world hurting?
Gathering her courage, Dani returned to the sanctuary. God would help, just as He was helping her work out things on the ranch. It didn’t mean there wouldn’t be more questions. It simply meant she had to look to Him for the answers. She’d just have to keep plodding away.
Back in the hall, Dani noticed Dr. Lucas Lawrence had chosen a spot four pews from the back. He sat hunched over, staring at the confusion up front. As if he knew she was there, he turned, met her gaze, raised one eyebrow, then returned his attention to the platform, forehead pleated in a frown.
People milled about, chattering in small groups. They were willing enough to help, Dani knew, just unsure of where to begin. They needed a goal. With barely four months left until opening night, nothing had been decided. Somebody had to step in, and thanks to Pastor Bob, Miss Winifred Blessing and Dani’s own big mouth, Dani had been elected as director.
She took a deep breath and walked down the aisle.
“Okay, folks. If we can all be seated up here, I’d like to get started.” She smiled as Miss Blessing hushed the two most vocal of her helpers. The staple of Blessing Township, Miss Winifred was a godsend Dani was continually thankful for. If anyone could help her get through this, Miss Winifred could.
“First off, I’d like to know if there is anyone who would like the director’s job. Anyone at all?” Dead silence filled the auditorium. “I was afraid of that,” Dani muttered.
“Come on, Dani. You can do it.” Encouraging voices cheered their support.
There was no way out. Did she really want one? Wasn’t this the opportunity she’d prayed for—a chance to stage one of her own plays? Dani remembered advice she’d once been given in Miss Winifred’s Sunday school class. Be careful what you pray for. You might get it.
“All right, people, you asked for it. But everybody’s going to have to pitch in.” They nodded their agreement. “Great. Tonight I’d like us to strike the committees and get some solid work done.”
“About time we got going.” Murmurs of agreement echoed around the room.
“This is the list I’ve been given. To begin with— Emmy, we need to get some sketches under way for the publicity fliers and handouts. Pastor Bob said you’d offered?”
From the corner of her eye, Dani saw the new doctor move forward, seating himself at the back of the group. He didn’t speak to anyone, merely nodded at a few people who smiled at him.
Emmy described her ideas.
“Excellent. I knew that marketing degree of yours was going to come in handy,” Dani teased. “If you can get some advertising ideas worked up in the next couple of days, I’d love to see them. Now, we need hosts and hostesses for the actual evening. Volunteers?” As soon as one vacancy was filled, Dani moved on to the next. There was so much to do.
“Big Ed, I’m counting on you for the backdrops. Nobody can build like you.” The tall man blushed his pleasure. Dani smiled at him. “I mean it. If ever there was a gift given for building stuff, you’ve got it. We all know that if you put it together, it’s going to stand. No doubts there. How soon can you get the sets organized? Don’t forget Anita has to paint them.”
“I was kinda counting on—” He stumbled to a halt, his face red.
Dani rushed to help him out. “A drawing. Right. I forgot. Sorry.” The details just kept coming. Dani glanced out over the audience. “Will someone volunteer to sketch the backdrops so Big Ed will know what we need? I can give you the information, what there is of it, but when it comes to artwork I’m a washout.” She saw a thin white arm move just the slightest, and grinned at her next-door neighbor. “Aha! Marissa McGonigle, don’t you dare pull your hand back down. You can whip up those sketches without too much fuss, can’t you?”
Marissa glanced at her husband, Gray, noted his shrug, and nodded. Her eyes flashed with excitement. “I’ll do it, Dani. I’d love to have a part of this.”
“Bless you. You see, folks, I knew she’d volunteer if I helped her.”
Everyone chuckled. They were probably glad someone would be taking responsibility, Dani decided. As if she needed more responsibility. She pushed aside the doubts and concentrated on the next job the pastor had assigned.
“‘Table setting and decorations,”’ she read off the neatly typed list, aware that the new doctor was now beginning to fidget. Please don’t let him leave yet.
“The wife and I’ve got that one under control, Danielle. Sure could use some helpers, though.” Barry Quiggle’s voice carried clearly.
“You’ll get them.” Would the new doctor back out? Her nerves stretched taut. So many people were depending on her. She couldn’t let them down. She wouldn’t. “Okay, we’re making good progress. We’ll get down to actually practicing in a second, just bear with me. Next on the list is the meal. As you all know, Maddie took off on us to get married. Hardly a good excuse!”
Muted laughter.
“Any volunteers?” Dani looked around hopefully. But knowing the amount of work involved in feeding a crowd of two hundred, she didn’t have the faintest hope that anyone would volunteer to coordinate this aspect. “Come on, you guys. If it’s a dinner theater, we have to have dinner. Let’s consider this together. We can’t give up now.”
After a long and painful silence, Dani was startled to see the doctor shuffle to his feet.
“I’m new here and I suspect you’ll tell me to mind my own business.” He stopped, pretended to ignore the few teasing catcalls, a forced smile on his lips. His long fingers gripped the pew in front so tight, his muscles bunched.
Why was he so nervous?
“Everybody gets a chance to make suggestions on this project.” Dani held up her hand to quiet the whispering between two of the town’s worst gossips. “Let’s hear what he has to say. Go ahead, Dr. Luc. What are you thinking?”
“It’s just that, um, I heard that Miss Winifred Blessing leads the women’s auxiliary at the church. Well, you know—I presume they’ve fed a lot of people over the years, and no one’s gone hungry.” Nods of agreement seemed to embolden him. “I was wondering if she might give us some idea of what will be involved in a dinner of this magnitude.”
All eyes turned on the town’s gray-haired baker, who stood to her white-sneakered feet, a rose blush tinting her parchment cheeks.
“Luc, that’s very dear of you to say.” She smiled at the doctor. “I suppose I have had experience. As a matter of fact, I have made some notes. Just a few squiggles about quantities and such.” She smiled at everyone. “When you get to be my age, you make lists on everything, you know. Before you forget.”
Appreciative laughter.
“So if recruits were found to handle the various tasks in the kitchen, would you be willing to head up the dinner committee, Miss Blessing?” Luc asked.
Dani stared at the doctor, amazed by his temerity. She wouldn’t have dared ask such a thing, but it was as if Luc knew something the rest of them didn’t. How could that be? He was the newcomer in town!
“If no one minds a bossy old woman fussing at them, I’d be delighted to lend my assistance to this worthy cause.” Miss Blessing smiled happily, apple cheeks glowing. “Working together, I think we can manage quite well. Besides, Dani’s agreed to handle so much, I think this is one area she should be free of.”
“You wouldn’t be volunteering because you’ve tasted Dani’s cooking, would you, Miss Blessing?”
The room erupted in laughter at Big Ed’s knowing wink. Dani grinned, not embarrassed in the least.
“Come on, Big Ed. I burned those cookies years ago. I’ve been to college since then, you know.”
“Yeah, I heard.” He nodded, his Stetson tilted back on his head. “Didn’t think you were studying cooking, though. Dermot said it was some highfalutin stuff you read in books. And I don’t mean recipe books.”
The mention of her father’s name sent a ping straight to her heart, but Dani refused to allow her smile to slip. It had been over three months since his death. When would the pain ease?
She’d learned a lot of things from her father, but one thing she’d never forget. “Personal problems are just that—personal. We don’t spill our guts to the neighbors, Dani.”
“Aw, give Dani a break,” someone called. “Doesn’t matter if she can’t cook, as long as she can get this play going. We’ve got our caterer, and nobody could do it better than Miss Winifred.”