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“That was Hal Hathaway, thanking me for choosing a young, good-looking associate. He thinks the town has enough old fogies as it is.”
“News travels fast in Tourmaline,” Amy said.
“Hal makes sure of that. He’s the town’s prime gossip. I assume he got his chance to talk to you when you checked out of his hotel.”
Amy nodded.
“I’m sure he told you some things about David. How much?”
“Well, that David was divorced and there’d been some kind of a problem in New Mexico.”
“Over a year ago, yes. David was at a low point when he came here. I felt he needed some therapy, but being a relative, it wasn’t ethical for me to treat him. I tried to get him to go to a psychiatrist in Reno, but he refused. I have little doubt that he would have refused therapy even from me, had I been able to offer it.”
“I don’t know him well,” Amy said cautiously, “but he doesn’t seem to be in a depression now.”
“Hard work in the sun and fresh air has been good medicine.”
“The landscaping,” Amy murmured.
“Exactly.”
“Mr. Hathaway mentioned David was a lawyer.”
“Is. He passed both Nevada bar exams.” Gert sighed. “I remember him telling me when he was ten that when he grew up he was going to be a lawyer and help people, just like I was a doctor and helped them. Law was his dream. But now—” She paused and shook her head. “He’s disillusioned with the profession. Who knows if he’ll ever go back.”
“If he passed the exams…?”
“I think he took them just to shut me up.”
“He’s in denial.” It wasn’t a question, Amy was offering a diagnosis.
Gert shrugged. “I’ve told you this because I know you’ll hear more gossip. I also realize that you and David got off on the wrong foot. He’ll work things out eventually. Try not to be too hard on him.”
“No, of course not.” Even as Amy said the words, a plan was forming in her mind. Though she was Gert’s associate, she wasn’t related to David, so it wasn’t exactly unethical for her to try to help him. Not that she’d be overt. With his negative attitude toward therapy, it’d never do to let him realize she was going to be attempting to steer him into overcoming his denial, so he could return to the profession he’d once loved.
She felt really noble for about ten seconds. Then it hit her. She, who had absolutely no use for the legal profession, was going to try to find a way to get this man to embrace law again? What a crock. On the other hand, she’d gone into psychology because she wanted to help people understand their problems and overcome them. David had a real problem. It shouldn’t matter what it was, she was a psychologist and it was her duty to help him face up to his.
Should she discuss it with Gert? For a moment or two she wavered, then decided actually there was no need to, since she wasn’t going to officially be David’s therapist. Hers would be a covert operation. If it didn’t work, no harm would come to him. There was a good chance she could pull it off, in which case he’d be better.
“Given time, I believe David and I can become friends,” she said.
Gert smiled at her. “I hope so. Now I’ll show you around a bit so you’ll know where everything is when we start seeing patients tomorrow.”
David, T-shirt slung on the porch rail again, inserted the last of today’s shrubs into its hole, a hibiscus the nursery owner thought was hardy enough to survive a Nevada winter. Time would tell. He’d given it a southern exposure near the house so the plant would have a fighting chance.
“So are you through for the day?” Amy’s voice came from behind, startling him.
He turned to look at her. “More or less.”
“I’ve been thinking about our contract—you know, to try to be friends. It occurred to me if you don’t know much about cats, I might be of some help when yours delivers her kittens. My mother always had cats, so I got to be an amateur expert in kittens at an early age.”
Taken aback at her friendly offer, David hesitated, finally saying, “It’s true I don’t know much about cats.”
“Most of them just go ahead and have their kittens, but some can be difficult about it. I could come over and meet her so she’ll know me when the time comes.”
Come to his apartment? He stared at her. What had brought on this sudden switch? She couldn’t be coming on to him, so just what was she up to?
“Just to meet your cat, I mean.” A tinge of coolness in her voice told him that Amy hadn’t changed all that much.
Let’s see how far he could push her. “You could drive over with me now and get acquainted with Hobo while I take a shower and clean up.”
“Hobo? What kind of name is that for a female cat?”
“How was I to know she was a female? Gert clued me in, but I’d named her by then. Coming with me?”
She frowned—being in the same place with him while he showered wasn’t such a good idea. Time to set things straight, Amy thought. “Ever since we first met I seem to hear you telling me the best way to get places. Since we’ve decided to be friends, I want to be up front with some things, one of them being that I do not like controlling men.”
He let out a bark of surprised laughter. “Me? Controlling?”
“You tend to take charge without consulting me. First you wouldn’t let me drive to Tiny Tim’s by myself, you had to show me in person. It didn’t seem worth an argument so I let it go. Then you wouldn’t tell me how to get to the hotel, even though I asked you to give me directions. You insisted on taking me there. Again I didn’t protest because, well, actually I didn’t expect to see you again.”
David thought it over for a moment or two. “I see your point, but I think you’re being a tad sensitive about what’s meant to be controlling and what isn’t. Try this on—maybe I was merely trying to be a gentleman.”
“What about the fact you just asked if I was coming with you to your place to hang out while you showered?”
He shrugged. “You didn’t say yes or no and I badly need a shower. I was trying to speed things up.”
He could see she was considering that.
“I see your point, too,” she said finally.
“That’s what friends do—give each other a little slack when necessary.” He waited to see how she’d react to that.
He thought her “True enough” was a bit forced. For some reason she was determined to stick to the idea of them being friends. Well, why not? He might be wary of any other type of involvement with a woman, but what was the harm in being friends with Amy?
“Compromise is also what friends do,” she said. “So I’ll follow you to your apartment to meet Hobo. That way you won’t have to drive me back here.”
She was one up on him there. Could be fun to have her for a friend.
“Sounds good,” he told her, and gave her the address in case they got separated on the way.
Then he watched her walk away. She’d changed into jeans, and as he took note of her curvy bottom, he decided it might not be all that easy to be “just friends” with Amy Simon.
Chapter Three
A t his apartment, David pointed out the cat to Amy and started for his bedroom to grab some clean clothes before he showered.
“Wait,” Amy called after him. “Hobo and I need to be introduced by you.”
He paused. “Why? She’s a cat.”
“She’s your cat. And a very pretty tortoiseshell. Your introduction will let her know I’m okay.”
He rolled his eyes but walked back and knelt down beside Amy, who was holding out her fingers for Hobo to sniff.
“Hobo,” he said, “meet Amy. She’s a friend.” He rose and bolted for the bedroom before Amy could come up with another wacky idea.
He was back in ten minutes, showered and wearing clean jeans and T-shirt.
Amy was sitting on the floor petting the cat. “Where’s her box?” she asked.
“Litter box?”
“No, I mean her birthing box. For her to have the kittens in.”
“Gert didn’t tell me she needed that.”
“Hobo has to get used to the box ahead of time so she won’t go off and have the kittens in the corner of a closet or a dresser drawer left open. Or even on your bed. I don’t think you’d care for that since birthing is rather messy. You need to be prepared.”
“I wasn’t planning on becoming the father of kittens, you know.”
“Obviously. Do you happen to have a fair-size cardboard box somewhere?”
He found one, as well as an old blanket for Amy to put in the bottom of the box and several old towels to cover it. She placed the box in an out-of-the-way corner of the living room. “Now, put Hobo in the box,” she said. “She’ll sniff all around in it and probably jump out, but she’ll know it’s there. You can keep putting her in it when you’re home so she gets the idea it’s hers.”
“See what I got myself into for taking you in,” he told the cat as he lifted her gently and set her down inside the box. “Special cat food bowls that won’t tip over, water bowls that fill when you need a drink, kitty litter for the sandbox and now this.”
“She doesn’t seem to have any fleas,” Amy said.
“Gert told me she wouldn’t. Fleas don’t like high desert—the elevation here is almost five thousand feet.”
Hobo leaped out of the box, pausing to smell the outside of the cardboard, then she brushed against David’s leg before going over to sniff at Amy’s shoe. Amy bent and stroked her behind the ears, murmuring, “I’ll be back to see you, pretty girl.”
Which meant she planned to return to his apartment in the near future. Before he started picturing her in his bed, he reminded himself the key word was friends, not lovers. If he kept his hands off her, and he definitely meant to, maybe the chemistry he could still feel between them would lose its potency.
As Amy straightened, Hobo let out what could only be described as a mournful yowl. He stared at the cat. Was something wrong with her?
“Uh-oh.” Amy plopped down beside Hobo again, this time gently feeling the cat’s stomach. “I think you got that box ready in the nick of time. She’s in labor. You’d better put her in it.”
“You mean now?” David said, his blue eyes widening.
“Yes, right now.”
He very gingerly lifted Hobo and carried her to the box. She sniffed it again and seemed to settle down to stay. He started to walk away, but the cat climbed out and followed him, yowling.
“She’s one of those,” Amy told him.
“Those what?”
“If you don’t sit by the box while she has at least the first kitten, she’ll keep following you and have the kittens wherever you are. Some cats are like that. Others demand total privacy.”
“You mean I have to play vet midwife? I studied law, not medicine.”
“She’ll do all the work, but she’s bonded with you and she needs the security of you being nearby.”
David sighed, put Hobo back in the box and eased down on the floor next to it. “You’re the cat expert,” he told Amy. “How about joining me here?”
He knew Amy had chosen the corner so the cat could feel partly hidden, not for space, and this made for a very cozy situation when Amy sat next to him—she was practically in his lap. Such near intimacy made it difficult for him to keep the word friend in mind. She smelled faintly of some light floral scent he couldn’t identify despite his recent acquaintance with nursery plants. Whatever it was, he liked it.
Keep your mind on the cat, Amy warned herself as her knee brushed against David’s thigh. This chemistry thing is merely a matter of endorphins, nothing you can’t ignore. But ignoring the feeling was darn hard when she was crowded against him.
Hobo began to growl, focusing her attention. The cat’s ears went back as she crouched in the box, and suddenly a kitten’s head pushed its way free of her. The rest of the kitten followed quickly and Hobo turned to the tiny thing and began licking it clean.
“Looks like a drowned mouse,” David commented.
The next kitten was tinier than the first and Hobo nudged it away from her without trying to clean it, returning her attention to the firstborn.
“You need to put that reject under her nose so she’ll have to take care of it,” Amy said.
“I need to?”
“She trusts you. I’m still a stranger.”
By the time David cautiously moved the rejected kitten closer, a third one was being born. Again Hobo pushed the second born aside to tend to the new one.
“Why won’t she take care of it?” he asked.
“The poor little thing is the runt of the litter. Cats seem to sense that the smallest one has the least chance of survival, so they tend to the others first. The trouble is, the runt can die during this time.”
“You mean the kitten may be defective?”
“It’s a possibility.”
David’s expression changed from puzzled to determined as, muttering about handicaps, he persisted in setting the tiniest kitten in front of Hobo until she finally gave up and started washing the runt. By the time the fourth and last was born, the runt had revived enough to crawl to a nipple and join the other two.
“No matter if she is a runt,” David said. “She deserves a chance.”
Because he’d identified the kitten as female without any evidence, Amy decided his words might well pertain to more than the kitten, but she hesitated to pry. To help David, as she intended to do, she needed to gain his confidence before asking any personal questions.
“You gave her one,” she told him.
“And she ran with it. A fighter. She’ll do okay.”
They both started to get up at the same time and collided in the narrow space. She grabbed him for balance and his arms went around her. Amy could feel the sizzle of heat as he held her close for a longer moment than either needed to regain their balance. As he released her, she gazed into his eyes and noticed how dilated his pupils were—a sure sign that touching her affected him. Hers probably were, too, since she could hardly deny she didn’t want him to let her go.
“Uh,” she said, backing away, “now you need to ease those messy towels out from under her and let her lie with the kittens on the clean blanket underneath. If you don’t, she may try to move the kittens to another spot. It’s an instinct to get rid of the birth odors so the kittens will be safe from predators.”
He grunted but did as she said. Once he’d disposed of the towels and washed his hands, he said, “Care to celebrate the birth of Hobo’s four kittens by having dinner with me?”
