This was a new life. A new man. She should have a new lipstick.
“Too late now,” she told her reflection. “He’ll be here in ten minutes.”
As Nic made her way downstairs, she admitted that referring to Bob Gerard as a “new man” was a stretch, since this was to be their first date and she’d only met Bob four days ago. He was part of the mayor’s plan D, a business consultant from Colorado Springs whom Hank Townsend had brought to town to identify any options for saving Eternity Springs they might have overlooked.
Bob had flirted with Nic from the moment they met during a “business leader” luncheon at the Bristlecone. When he called that night to chat, her first instinct had been to brush him off the same way she had every other man since Greg Sullivan broke her heart. Then she’d recalled Celeste’s speech at the high school about prisons of the past and she’d taken the leap, dusting off her own rusty flirting skills. Bob didn’t seem to mind her awkwardness. When a conversation about hunting led to his admission that he’d never tried game meats, she’d screwed up her courage and invited him to dinner for the specialty of her house—roast venison.
For this casual evening at home, she’d chosen to wear black slacks and an aquamarine V-neck cashmere sweater that Lori and Sarah claimed did wonders for her eyes. Nic just hoped she could get through dinner without spilling anything on it. She’d about ruined the oxford shirt she’d worn while preparing the meal—despite wearing an apron at the time. “I’m not nervous,” she said aloud. “I’m not.”
When the doorbell rang, she startled. No, not nervous at all.
She put a smile on her face and opened the door, saying, “You’re right on time … oh. Mr. Callahan.”
Gabe Callahan stood on her front porch, the boxer he’d rescued up on Murphy Mountain at his side. “You knew I’d bring him back?”
“No. Not you. I thought you were someone else.” She frowned down at the dog and said, “Why is the boxer with you? Is Celeste okay?”
“Who is Celeste?”
Without warning, the dog yanked the leash from Gabe’s hand and darted past Nic and into her home just as her telephone started ringing. Flustered, she said, “I’m sorry. Let me get that. Please come in.”
Her home was a standard Victorian design with two rooms on either side off a large entry hall with the staircase to the second-floor bedrooms at its center, a narrow kitchen stretching the width of the house at the back. The closest phone sat on a table at the back of the center hall, toward the kitchen. The boxer disappeared into the cozy library, where Nic spent most of her time and where she’d set a small table for two. Her unexpected guest followed the dog.
She grabbed the phone on the fourth ring without bothering to check the caller ID. “Hello?”
“Nic, hi. It’s Bob. Look, I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. I’m on my way home now. Had an emergency.”
She waited for her stomach to sink in disappointment. To her surprise, all she felt was relief. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope it’s nothing too serious.”
“My son had an accident on his four-wheeler. Broke his arm and a leg. My wife is frantic, and frankly, so am I. Do you know how long it’s gonna take me to get home? This town of yours is way too isolated.”
“Excuse me?” Nic’s heart began to pound. “Did you just say ‘my wife’?”
“Oh. Well …”
Her blood began to boil. “You weren’t wearing a wedding ring.”
“Yeah. Well …”
“You sorry, lowlife jerk. You flirted with me from hello. I can’t believe you … Listen. You can take your ‘consulting’ and shove it. We don’t want your kind in our town.” She started to slam the phone down, froze, and brought it back to her ear. “I hope your son is okay.”
After that, she did slam the receiver into its cradle. She stood staring at it, her hands on her hips, breathing hard. Anger coursed through her blood. “What is it with men? Are they totally incapable of faithfulness?”
“Depends. It’s a character issue more than a sexual one.”
Nic closed her eyes in embarrassment and swallowed a groan. She’d forgotten about her visitor. Lovely. Just lovely.
“I seem to find only the characters without character. Oh well.” She shrugged and shook off her discomfort. “Talk to me about the dog.”
Gabe glanced at the boxer, who lay curled on