Snow Melts in Spring (8 page)

FOURTEEN

NIKO RETURNED WITH A FOURTH JUG OF WINE AND PROCEEDED TO fill the empty glasses. All but Gil’s — his was still full from the first round. He’d vowed long ago not to drink and had no intention of giving in to the temptation now. Someone had to be responsible for getting the boys home tonight.

Charlie shared his belief and covered his goblet when the attendant came around. He then reached for his glass of water. “I hope you don’t mind our party tonight. The guys wanted to show you their appreciation.”

Gil surveyed a handful of his teammates who had joined the exotically dressed female in the center of the restaurant to learn the art of belly dancing. “No offense, but I think they’re enjoying the evening more than me. I’m grateful for the effort, though. The food’s good.” He raised a chunk of marinated lamb to his lips and bit off another piece of the spicy meat. “Well worth the indigestion I’ll have later for eating so much.”

Charlie chuckled. “You know this isn’t the end of the celebration. Coach and the guys are planning a major retirement party for you.”

Gil cringed, hating extravagant good-byes. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, but we do.” His friend sipped his water. “You’re an inspiration to us all.”

He had never considered himself an inspiration to anyone, especially grown men. “I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done. We play the game, that’s all.”

“That’s why we like you, McCray. You love the game. All that other stuff means nothing. You don’t let the money, the hype — the good-looking babes — get to you.”

“You don’t either.”

Charlie stole a piece of meat from Gil’s plate and smiled. “I’ve got Linda and the kids. Do you realize we celebrated our sixteenth anniversary last week? Jason will be in high school next year, and Rhonda the year after that. They grow so fast. I can’t imagine what life would be like without them.”

An unforeseen cloud of jealousy settled over Gil when his friend talked about his family. He half expected a thunderbolt to shoot right through the roof of this establishment and strike him in the heart. After all his years of playing ball, Gil had a few measly memories to show for it and nothing more. He didn’t have a wife to go home to, nor did he have anyone to share in his joy or success. At this point, Gil didn’t even have a place to call home, certainly not the townhouse he lived in.

“I have my eyes on a piece of real estate up by Healdsburg, north of Santa Rosa.”

“No kidding? Are you finally going to buy that home you’ve dreamed about?”

Gil thought of the two-hundred-acre ranch with its Spanish-style hacienda and front courtyard, and his mood brightened. “Maybe you’d like to go with me this weekend to check it out?”

Charlie frowned and scratched his head. “I’d like to help, but Linda’s got my whole weekend booked with a ballet recital and a visit to her folks.”

Typical response. “If I had a wife and family as great as yours, I’d spend my free time with them too, even if it meant going to recitals.” He punched Charlie’s shoulder and grinned.

The tempo of the music shifted and in his peripheral vision, Gil saw a long line of football players shuffle toward him, led by the gyrating belly dancer. His humor faded when she pulled him from his bench, cajoling him to join the others.

“No way.” He tried to wave them off, but his protests were of no use. The guys followed right behind her, ready to take over if she failed. “Okay, but only if Charlie comes too.”

Charlie shook his head, but Gil grabbed him by the sleeve. “Huh-uh, buddy. If I go, you go. You were part of this idea, remember?”

As they formed a circle, a woman distributed cheap, white dishes to hold. The gigantic dopey football players stood among the other diners, all embarrassed but willing to go beyond their comfort zones for the sake of a good time. Gil watched them dance about, some with real zeal. When it came time for him to crash his plate to the floor, he splayed his arms and kicked his feet with exaggerated flair.

“Opa!” The entire crowd cheered as the china shattered into hundreds of pieces.

FIFTEEN

MATTIE HEARD A CRASH AND OPENED HER EYES TO SEE FLASHING lights against the night sky. She lay flat on her back with an oxygen mask strapped to her face. When her vision cleared, she shifted and saw her clinic in flames. Firemen rushed about, hoses in their hands.

Her own palms and fingers burned like never before. She noted the gauze wrapped around them. Cradled next to her was the stray beagle she’d tried desperately to save from the fire. He licked her arm with his soft tongue. Beside her was her good friend, Clara.

Mattie tried to lift the mask, then coughed, her throat raspy and sore. “What happened? I thought I was going to die in there.”

Clara squeezed her in a warm embrace, her face tear-streaked and pale. “I’ve never been so frightened in all my life. When we saw the animals out here, but not you, the crew went in through the rear. They found you on the floor with this puppy in your arms.”

A paramedic pushed the mask back against Mattie’s skin. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’ll have to keep that on.” He shined a bright light in her eyes and checked her blood pressure. When the medic finished his examination, Mattie pushed herself up on her elbows.

“Did they save the other animals?” she asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

Clara shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m just thankful they rescued you. We thought we’d lost you.”

Mattie tried to remember. Her head throbbed, and her body trembled — from the cold night air or shock, she wasn’t sure which. She recalled her futile attempt to save the rest of the animals. How had the fire started?

“Do they know what caused it?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she remembered the microwave and the sparks that had emitted from it only a few hours ago.

“Wouldn’t surprise me if that old house had a short in its wires. I thank God you’re alive.”

The paramedics lifted Mattie onto a stretcher. “We’re going to take you to the hospital to run some tests,” one of them said. “You inhaled a lot of smoke, plus you have first-degree burns on your hands.”

As they wheeled her to the ambulance, Mattie thought of Dusty and panicked. “Clara, I left Gil’s horse in the barn. He’s not tied up or anything, and he’s weak because he hasn’t been eating. Will you call Travis and make sure he looks after him?”

“Sure thing.” Clara squeezed Mattie’s arm and walked beside the gurney. “Don’t worry. As soon as I get a sitter for my kids, I’ll join you at the hospital. We can work out all the details then.” Her friend reached for the young beagle cuddled against Mattie’s hip, but Mattie clung to the warm pup, relishing the gift of life.

“Let me keep him a while longer.”

Clara hesitated. “I’ll take good care of him, don’t worry.”

At Clara’s insistence, Mattie reluctantly let go of the creature. Her arms now cold and empty, like her life. Mattie raised her head and watched as the local fire department worked to put out the blazing inferno. Realizing her home would soon be a pile of smoldering embers, she allowed her emotions to release and a single tear streaked down her cheek.

“WHAT WILL YOU DO NOW?” CLARA SAT NEXT TO MATTIE’S BED IN the hospital the following afternoon.

Mattie had been asking herself the same question. She might run her practice from the barn for a little while, but not for long without equipment and supplies. Another option was to rebuild. Or move a mobile home onto the site. But with what? She didn’t have enough money for a down payment, and unfortunately, her limited insurance coverage would not go far in getting her back on her feet.

Her optimism dwindled.

“Maybe I could rent a place. Work part-time at the meat-packing plant in Emporia.” The pay would help build her savings, but the thought of hiring on as a meat inspector soured her stomach. She’d labored too hard to build her clientele in Charris County to see it fade away.

She thought about Dusty and the few animals she’d saved. Unable to care for them, she would need to contact their owners, but all of her records had been destroyed in the fire. Dread slipped its iron grip around her as she imagined what Gil would say about her situation.
Incompetent.

That alone filled her with disgust.

“You could stay with me.”

Mattie appreciated the offer, but declined. “We both know you don’t have room for me and my sick animals. What I need is a place with a garage or a nice shed I could turn into a clinic. I’m afraid if I quit, even for a short while, it’d be like starting over again. When I bought Doc Bryant’s place three years ago, he was open two days a week,” Mattie said, “and then for only half a day. The rest of the time, he made house calls and supplemented his income by working at the local stockyards. I’ve done the same.”

Clara grimaced. “My husband always told me to give the restaurant time, but you don’t know how many days I wanted to pack up and move to the city. When he left me stranded with a business to run and three kids to care for after the divorce, I was this close to quitting.” She held her fingers an inch apart. “But I stuck it out. You can too.”

Mattie thanked the Lord for giving her such a good friend. God had looked after her needs, granted her a business, and an income she could live on in the most beautiful place she could imagine. He’d given Mattie her heart’s desire. But what now? Was God testing her faith?

Her father’s failure weighed her with doubt. Perhaps his past would fall on her. She could already hear the gossip, people wondering if she was going to go bankrupt like her dad.

Her head throbbed, thinking about her troubles. “Sometimes I wonder if I should even be a vet — I lost all those patients.”

“Are you kidding me? You risked your life saving those animals, and you rescued the majority of them. Saved the beagle, didn’t you?” Clara offered a warm smile.

A nurse stepped into the room and laid some papers on the bed stand. “The doctor says you can go home. Here are the release papers for you to sign.” She handed Mattie a pen. “Do you have some clean clothes to change into?”

Clara lifted an overnight bag next to her chair. “I thought of that already. The pants will be too big for you, but they’ll work for now.”

Mattie appreciated the kindness, but her friend’s generosity only hammered in the truth that she was homeless. She had no clothes, no personal belongings, nothing to call her own. Her eyes filled with tears.

Clara came to her side and squeezed her shoulder. “You’ll stay with me and the kids until we figure out what you’re going to do next. We don’t have a big house, but there’s a couch and a shower. I’ll find you some clothes to wear too. I might have some jeans packed away from high school you can borrow until we get to a store.”

Mattie allowed her friend to pull her from the bed, careful of her bandaged hands, which stung at the slightest pressure despite the ointment applied to them.
Thank you
seemed too small a phrase to express her gratitude. A tear streamed down her cheek. “You’re a dear friend, Clara Lambert. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for your kindness.”

Clara hugged her and the warmth of friendship caused Mattie’s throat to swell with gratitude.

“Oh please, knowing you is a blessing. Now come on, let’s get you out of here.”

GIL PUNCHED IN HIS FATHER’S NUMBER, HOPING TO GET THROUGH. He’d tried three times this last hour and received a busy signal each instance.

Who could Dad be talking to?

Earlier that morning, he’d called Mattie’s office, but no one answered there either. Doubts clouded his mind about Dr. Evans and her practice. How could she expect to gain new clientele if she wouldn’t answer her phone?

The phone beeped in his ear, and he hung up, tired of the effort. He needed to leave for his appointment, anyway. The Realtor agreed to show him the estate he was interested in, and his blood surged with excitement. Maybe he’d soon own a place to call home, a place even his father might think worthy of buying.

Ninety minutes later, Gil stepped from his Escalade and met the real estate broker along the property drive. She had long blonde hair swept back from her face and wore a short skirt and heels that looked out of place in the rural setting.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. McCray.” The woman held out her slim hand. She wore too much makeup, and her smile seemed contrived. That would probably change when she realized his interest was more than a passing fancy, when actual dollars entered the picture.

“Thanks for setting this up for me. I’ve been curious about this place for a while now.”

“No problem. I must caution you, the estate isn’t officially on the market yet. The owners have agreed, however, to let you tour the home and property.”

Warning bells went off in Gil’s mind, but he waved it off as nothing more than a business ploy, a stratagem to attract buyers and make more money. After all, a person wants most what he thinks he can’t have. “I appreciate your time and effort. Shall we start with the horse barn and work our way to the house?”

He’d played this game often enough with investors to know how best to maneuver the players, much like a game of chess. Don’t let them see how interested you are until you’re ready to take the queen. In this case, though, it might prove difficult to hide his enthusiasm. The more he saw of this property, the more he wanted it. Green irrigated hills, pipe fence, shade trees galore, and a house and barn that made his heart beat as fast as it did on game days.

They walked inside the horse barn, and it was everything he’d imagined and more. Situated near the entrance was an office and, above it, private quarters for two employees. Gil studied the custom stalls that lined the east wall, then turned his attention to the center arena, complete with bleachers and a glass-enclosed announcer’s box. A perfect setup for holding clinics, performance events, and for training horses.

The outside arrangement was nice too. Two different-sized round pens, a training arena, various lots for horses and cattle, and plenty of grass for grazing. Gil hid his excitement, but in his heart, he knew he’d purchase the property for the horse facilities alone, without even looking at the residence.

Gil grinned. The notion of appearing disinterested appealed to his sense of sport. He made a fuss of checking his pocket watch. “You know what? I need to get back to the city. Maybe we could finish the tour another day?”

Shock registered on the agent’s face. “You don’t want to look at the manor? But you’ve driven all this way . . .”

Gil made a cursory glance of the front courtyard as he walked to his SUV. The Spanish-style home suited his taste — heavily ornamented and carved with turrets and columns. The red-tiled roof and stucco walls would provide cool temperatures in the hottest months, and the entrance was grand enough to impress even the most sophisticated critic.

“Perhaps next time.” He held out his hand and kept a solemn expression, despite his exuberance. If he could pull this off, he’d feel like the king of Sonoma County. “Another day, then?”

At her nod, he hopped into his vehicle and left the woman standing there with an expression of disbelief. His goal exactly.

Not checkmate, but definitely check.