Part 13 (1/2)

”To who, Denny, to who?” he demanded. ”You won't let anyone in close enough to listen.”

d.a.m.n him, he was going to make her cry and she couldn't let her father see her crying. He had enough to deal with without worrying about her. ”No one asked you to listen. Or to stay.”

”For two cents, I'd-”

”You'd what?” she demanded, goading him. She didn't want charity, emotional or otherwise.

The elevator opened on the second floor. He strode out. ”Nothing. I came along to help you bring your father to my parents' ranch and I'm bringing him to my parents' ranch.” His parents had both insisted on it. ”Now do us both a favor and stop talking before I'm tempted to strangle you.”

She marched past him to her father's room. ”Fine.”

”Fine,” he snapped back.

But it wasn't fine and they both knew it.

”You two can talk, you know.” Sitting in the back seat, Tate looked from his daughter to Will. The silent tension in the car was thick enough to cut with a dull knife. ”It was my heart they unclogged, not my ears.”

Denise turned in her seat, trying to muster a smile for her father's benefit Her heart ached so, she thought it was going to crack in half. ”We just don't want to tire you out, Dad.”

”Tire me out?” he scoffed. ”I've been doing nothing but laying flat on my back in a hospital bed. I've got energy stored up to go dancing if I could find a willing partner.”

Will welcomed the opportunity to make small talk. ”You can ask my mother once I get you to the ranch.”

Tate nodded. ”It's very nice of your folks to put me up this way.”

”They're glad to do it,” Will a.s.sured him. ”It'll give my mother a chance to fuss over someone who's not a blood relative. You might have noticed, she loves to fuss.”

”I noticed. Wonderful woman, your mother.” Tate chuckled softly, then looked at the back of his daughter's head. He recognized the tense set of her shoulders. ”Denny, how are we paying for all this, the hospital, the operation?”

”We're managing.” This time, she refused to turn around, afraid her father would read too much in her expression. He'd find out soon enough. For now, until the wheels were set in motion, she'd keep the truth from him. It was better for all of them that way. ”Like always, Dad, we're managing.”

10.

The expression on Denise's face when he left her remained with Will all day and well into the next. At every turn, it gnawed at him like a ravenous shrew down to its last morsel of food. Like now, when he should be looking at the blueprints Drake had brought in for his review.

He knew she didn't want to sell the only source of livelihood she and her family had, yet there was no other way for her to pay off the hospital bill. Will supposed that on the bright side, the sale would give them a nice piece of change after all the bills were taken care of. There was a lot she could do with the money. Settle down for instance. But what would she do afterward? And would she be happy doing it?

Guaranteeing the happiness of this headstrong female had become very important to him.

Drake sighed as he rolled up the blueprints. By the way he blinked and looked up at him now, Drake doubted if Will had heard half of what he was saying.

”If I didn't know any better,” Drake commented, patting the ends of the rolled-up paper, ”I'd guess that our single-minded, ultrafocused Will Cutler was preoccupied.”

He was more than preoccupied, he was in love. There was no question about it, no doubt. Like his brothers, he'd always known his own mind. The knowledge came to him with the form of a lightning bolt-swift, true and unchallenged. He loved her. Her resilience, her determination, her heart. Her.

Will sat up in his chair, suddenly alert as an idea began to form. An idea that had nothing to do with what Drake was saying. Will hated being inert when there was something to be done. Looking at Drake, he thought he knew what that something was.

”And you'd be right. Drake, your brother's on the city council, right?” Not waiting for an answer to the rhetorical question, Will surged ahead, ”Does the town still want to build an amus.e.m.e.nt park?” he asked.

For a second Drake stared at his friend blankly. He shrugged. ”You'd have to ask Hal, but it's one of the things on the council's back burner as far as I know.” His eyes narrowed. ”Why?”

Will turned his chair toward the computer on the side of his desk. He switched to an empty screen. His fingers immediately began to fly across the keyboard. ”Because I just think I might have a deal that's going to make everyone happy.”

Curious, Drake peered over Will's shoulder. ”The boss included?”

”Yeah, the boss included,” he answered without looking up. ”Now I'd appreciate it if you'd go and let me do my work.”

Drake saluted. ”Your wish is my command. Send for me when you're ready to make sense.”

But what was more important, Will thought as the door closed behind Drake, was that it would make Denise happy. Or at least, he amended silently, it should.

And if it didn't, he would.

Half an hour later, his notes and arguments printed out and laying on the desk in front of him, Will was on the phone, scrambling for backup. He had only one shot at this and he wanted to get it right.

”C'mon, Hank, you're the one with the gift for gab in the family. You're the one in the hotshot advertising firm, what do I do or say to make the town council members sit up and take notice?”

He heard Hank's deep laugh rumble in his ear. ”You might try delivering the proposal without your s.h.i.+rt on and wearing your jeans one size too tight. According to Quint, two of the council members have had their eye on you for quite some time now.”

Normally, he didn't mind shooting the breeze with Hank. He missed his brother since Hank had moved to Southern California, but he was short on time right now. ”Very funny. I need help.”

”Actually, for the first time in years, I'd say you didn't. You're finally acting like a normal male instead of the strong, silent patriarch dedicated to nothing but hard work and family.”

The description fit him like a glove and Will didn't balk at it. There wasn't anything more important to him than his family and his career. There still wasn't. He just had his eye on expanding, that's all. ”I don't have time to let you play talk show host with me, Hank. You're in advertising. How do I make sure I sell this concept to them?”

Hank thought for a minute. He'd been part of Serendipity all of his life and had the advantage of being able to look at the picture from two sides: that of a child and that of an enterprising adult.

”Remind them how people turn out to attend the carnival every year. Capitalize on the fact that if Serendipity had an amus.e.m.e.nt park on its outskirts, people from neighboring towns all over would come to spend their time and money here. Do a little of what you're good at, Will. Sketch in things that'll make the local shopkeepers start seeing dollar signs coming in instead of going out.” Hank made a note to himself on his pad as ideas began to emerge. ”Get their attention and maybe we can even launch a small ad campaign for you here, give the park statewide attention. If not, I'll see what I can come up with for you on my own,” he promised, warming to the idea. ”This has great potential, Will. If you hang around for a few more minutes, I'll fax you some preliminary ideas you can use on the council.”

It was going to go well, Will thought He could always tell. It was a feeling in his bones. ”You've got it-and Hank?”

”Yeah?”

”Thanks.”

Hank grinned to himself, glancing at the photograph of Fiona on his desk. Beside it was a small, personal calendar he kept apart from his work schedule. On it was a countdown of the days remaining until they were married. He'd never thought he'd look forward to settling down as much as he did.

”Don't mention it,” Hank said. ”I know what it's like.”

For a second, Hank lost him. ”You know what what's like?”

Receiver caught between his neck and shoulder, Hank typed in a few lines on his computer. ”Walking five inches off the ground because some cute little lady's crossed your path.”

”I think if I called her a cute little lady, she'd hand my head to me.” But for the most part, he figured Hank had a good grasp of the situation.

From all reports from home, Hank was willing to bet that his oldest brother had his hands full. ”Doesn't matter what they do, as long as they take notice of you.” He finished typing. ”Okay, let me polish this a little and I'll send it over to you. Oh, and good luck,” he added as an afterthought. ”Not that, with my notes and your sketches and charm, you'll need it.”