Finn's Fantasy (Maine Men #1) - K.C. Wells Page 0,87
day and was about to get the place ready for Finn’s arrival when Megan had called in an obvious blind panic saying she needed help, and for him to get his ass over there ASAP. Had it been any other time, Joel wouldn’t have hesitated. The coming evening had been on his mind for the last two days, however, and the last thing he needed right then was a mercy mission. Especially when he had no clue what Megan’s emergency was. He hadn’t been able to glean much, except that she sounded pretty distressed, and that wasn’t like her. And seeing as she’d never called on him like that, it was enough to get Joel reaching for his car keys. He’d only just gotten home after an appointment, so he hadn’t had time to change out of his suit. He’d sent Finn a text before leaving the house, telling him dinner would be delayed. Then he reconsidered and told Finn where to find the key. Bramble would be glad of the company, and Finn could take him for a walk while he waited.
So much for his plans to make a special dinner.
The curses were nothing to do with Megan’s emergency, and everything to do with whatever the fuck was going on with the 295 heading into Portland. He’d gotten as far as the turnoff, but the exit was closed. He was forced to stay on the turnpike for ten miles, all the way down to Falmouth, and then back south to Portland on 295. By the time he reached Megan’s house, over an hour had elapsed since her call. More than one fucking hour to get there, and yet another to get back, providing the traffic wasn’t snarled up any worse than it had been on the way there.
Why today? Why the fuck did this have to happen today? Then he stopped. Don’t be such a selfish dick. Megan needs you, asshole.
Joel switched off the engine, got out of the car, and ran to Megan’s front door. It opened as he raised his hand to bang on it, and Megan stood there, a cane in one hand, and her left ankle bound up in a bandage.
“Oh, thank God you’re here.” Megan gave him a one-armed hug as he stepped into the house.
Joel glanced at the white bandage. “Tell me you didn’t drag me over here because you sprained your ankle. And when did you do that?” He’d half-expected to find Lynne on the floor with a broken leg, or something equally catastrophic.
“Wednesday.”
He blinked. “Wednesday? Okay then, what’s the emergency?” Her lack of panic sent a small measure of relief flooding through him. “Why am I here?”
She dragged him through the house to the back door and pointed at the yard. “Midge is out there. She’s been out there for two days.”
For a moment, Joel was lost. “Midge?” Then he remembered. “What’s happened? Has that damn cat got herself mauled by some dog? And why call me for that?” He grimaced. He didn’t want to be the one to pick up the pieces of Megan’s mangled cat.
Megan rolled her eyes. She yanked open the back door and tugged him outside, then hobbled to the tall tree at the far end of the yard, dragging him with her. She pointed up into its branches with her cane. “See? She’s stuck up there.”
Joel squinted. Sure enough, a black and white face stared down at him, and seconds later Midge gave a plaintive meow.
He blinked. “You called me over here to rescue your damn cat? Why couldn’t you guys do it?”
“Lynne isn’t here. She’s visiting her mom this week. And… and I can’t stand heights.”
Joel gaped. “Since when? You were always climbing trees when you were a kid. Mom and Dad could never get you to come down out of them.”
“Yeah, but I’m older now. I can’t climb a tree at my age. What if I fall?”
He stared at her. “Oh, but it’s okay if I do?”
Megan’s eyes bulged. “Can we go back to the part where I have a sprained ankle?”
Then he noticed the ladder, its top rungs leaning against the thick branch on which Midge was perched like a goddamn huge furry sparrow.
Megan coughed. “She’s been stuck up there since that storm hit yesterday morning, and I couldn’t get her to come down. I tried, okay? But I… got dizzy. That’s when I called you,” she added. “So can you please get your ass up there and rescue Midge?”