Christine Rimmer

Million-Dollar Maverick


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for the big day. Her husband, a long-haul trucker, had left five days before on a cross-country trip and was due to return the day after tomorrow.

      Faith tenderly stroked her enormous belly. “When Owen gets back from this trip, he’s promised he’s going nowhere until after this baby is born.”

      “I love a man who knows when it’s time to stay home,” Callie agreed.

      “Oh, me, too. I— Whoa!” Faith laughed as lightning lit up the underbelly of the thick clouds overhead. Thunder rumbled—and it started to rain.

      Callie groaned. Already, in the space of a few seconds, the fat drops were coming down hard and fast. She jumped up. “Come on. Let’s go in before we drown.”

      They cleared a space at the table in the breakfast nook and watched the rain pour down. Faith shivered.

      Callie asked, “Are you cold? I can get you a blanket.”

      “No, I’m fine, really. It’s only... Well, it’s a little too much like last year.” Her soft mouth twisted. “It started coming down just like this, in buckets. That went on for more than twenty-four hours straight. Then the levee broke....”

      Callie reached across the table and gave Faith’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “There’s nothing to worry about.” The broken levees had been rebuilt higher and stronger than before. “Emmet told me the new levee will withstand any-and everything Mother Nature can throw at it.”

      Faith let out a long, slow breath. “You’re right. I’m overreacting. Let the rain fall. There’ll be no flooding this year.”

      * * *

      It rained hard all night.

      And on the morning of July second, it was still pouring down. The clinic was just around the block from Callie’s new house, and she’d been looking forward to walking to work. But not today. Callie drove her SUV to the clinic.

      Overall, it was a typical workday. She performed routine exams, stitched up more than one injury, prescribed painkillers for rheumatoid arthritis and decongestants for summer colds. Emmet was his usual calm, unruffled self. He’d done two tours of duty in Vietnam and Cambodia back in the day. It took a lot more than a little rain to get him worked up.

      But everyone else—the patients, Brandy the clinic receptionist and the two pharmaceutical reps who dropped by to fill orders and pass out samples—seemed apprehensive. Probably because the rain just kept coming down so hard, without a break, the same way it had last year before the levee broke. They tried to make jokes about it, agreeing that every time it rained now, people in town got worried. They talked about how the apprehension would fade over time, how eventually a long, hard rainstorm wouldn’t scare anyone.

      Too bad they weren’t there yet.

      Then, a half an hour before they closed the doors for the day, something wonderful happened: the rain stopped. Brandy started smiling again. Emmet said, “Great. Now everyone can take a break from predicting disaster.”

      At five, Callie drove home. She still had plenty of Faith’s excellent casserole left for dinner. But she needed milk and bread and eggs for breakfast tomorrow. That meant a quick trip to Crawford’s, the general store on North Main run by Nate’s parents and sisters, with a little help from Nate and his brothers when needed.

      Callie decided she could use a walk after being cooped up in the clinic all day, so she changed her scrubs for jeans and a T-shirt and left her car at home.

      It started sprinkling again as she was crossing the Main Street Bridge. She walked faster. Luck was with her. It didn’t really start pouring until right after she reached the store and ducked inside.

      Callie loved the Crawfords’ store. It was just so totally Rust Creek Falls. Your classic country store, Crawford’s carried everything from hardware to soft goods to basic foodstuffs. It was all homey pine floors and open rafters. The rafters had baskets and lanterns and buckets hanging from them. There were barrels everywhere, filled with all kinds of things—yard tools, vegetables, bottles of wine. In the corner stood an old-timey woodstove with stools grouped around it. During the winter, the old guys in town would gather there and tell each other stories of the way things used to be.

      Even though she knew she was in for a soggy walk home, Callie almost didn’t care. Crawford’s always made her feel as if everything was right with the world.

      “Nurse Callie, what are you doing out in this?” Nate’s mother, Laura, called to her from behind the cash register.

      “It wasn’t raining when I left the house. I thought the walk would do me good.”

      “How’s that new house of yours?” Laura beamed.

      “I love it.”

      “My Nathan has good taste, huh?” Laura’s voice was full of pride. Nate was the oldest of her six children. Some claimed he’d always been the favorite.

      “He did a wonderful job on it, yes.” Callie grabbed a basket. Hoping maybe the rain would stop again before she had to head back home, she collected the items she needed.

      Didn’t happen. It was coming down harder than ever, drumming the roof of the store good and loud as Laura started ringing up her purchases.

      “You stick around,” Laura ordered as she handed Callie her receipt. “Have a seat over by the stove. Someone will give you a ride.”

      Callie didn’t argue. “I think I will hang around for a few minutes. Maybe the rain will slow down and...” The sentence wandered off unfinished as Nate emerged through the door that led into the storage areas behind the counter.

      He spotted her and nodded. “Callie.”

      Her heart kind of stuttered in her chest, which was thoroughly silly. For crying out loud, you’d think she had a real thing for Nate Crawford, the way her pulse picked up and her heart skipped a beat just at the sight of him. “Nate. Hey.”

      For a moment, neither of them said anything else. They just stood there, looking at each other.

      And then Laura cleared her throat.

      Callie blinked and slid a glance at Nate’s mother.

      Laura gave her a slow, way-too-knowing smile. Callie hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt.

      Nate lurched to life about then. He grabbed a handsome-looking tan cowboy hat from the wall rack behind the counter. “I moved the packaged goods out of the way so they won’t get wet and put a bigger bucket under that leak.” He put the hat on. It looked great on him. So did his jeans, which hugged his long, hard legs, and that soft chambray shirt that showed off his broad shoulders. “I’ll see to getting the roof fixed tomorrow—or as soon as the rain gives us a break.”

      “Thanks, Nathan.” Laura gave him a fond smile. And then she suggested way too offhandedly, “And Callie here needs a ride home....”

      Callie automatically opened her mouth to protest—and then shut it without saying a word. It was raining pitchforks and hammer handles out there, and she did need a ride home.

      Nate said, “Just so happens I’m headed that way. Here, let me help you.” He grabbed both of her grocery bags off the counter. “Let’s go.”

      Callie resisted the urge to tell him she could carry her own groceries. What was the point? He already had them. And he wasn’t waiting around for instructions from her, anyway. He was headed out the door.

      “Um, thanks,” she told Laura as she took off after him.

      “You are so welcome,” beamed Laura with way more enthusiasm than the situation warranted.

      “My mother likes you,” Nate said as he drove slowly down Main Street, the wipers on high and the rain coming down so hard it was a miracle he could see