Chapter Two
IF IT WASN’T for the family relations, Eli Calvary would fire his mother. But frankly, he didn’t have the time or money to train another pet groomer. Sure, her pay had dwindled to a morning hug and a fresh-cut lawn, but as her employer he expected adherence to company policy. She’d breached the “no interference clause,” which required the boss’s—his—immediate attention. Add to it the receipt of three—yes, three—unwanted and disturbingly provocative text messages from local single women dinging him awake before his crack-of-dawn alarm, and he had two mom-generated distractions to address. Staving off the bank’s foreclosure on every piece of property bearing his last name required considerable concentration. His momma’s marriage-mart shenanigans, though well-intentioned, siphoned too much of Eli’s brain power. He would solve the family’s money problems without his remaining parent wholesaling him off to a mountain woman with a hefty bank balance and a penchant for dog collars and electric fencing. Yep, pure caged misery leashed to love.
Stomping up the back steps of his childhood home, Eli knocked the mud off his boots, but the guilt of possibly losing the five-bedroom house—his mother’s safe haven, the only home his two younger brothers had ever known, and his final link to his father—clung like cement. He’d caused this and all because of a woman. Removing his ball cap, he did a one-two windshield-wiper maneuver through a swarm of buzzing gnats guarding the rear screen door.
“Momma,” Eli bellowed, a fair warning that, like the weather, his mood leaned toward overheated. July had ushered in West Virginia’s hot and rainy season. Even with the short half-mile walk across the back fields, the steady supply of Monday morning humidity had his T-shirt clinging and his jeans damp. His casual combination of a dark shirt, jeans, boots, and his headgear pulled double duty as office attire and small-town formal dinner dress.
“Door’s open,” came Leah Calvary’s comforting reply.
Eli looked down at his side. He gave his seventy-pound golden retriever, Hiccup, a generous head rub. Throwing in a good-natured scratch behind the ears earned him three rapid thuds to the calf from the dog’s dancing tail.
“Stay,” he said to his constant companion. He’d keep the visit brief. After four months back in his hometown, he’d discovered being the only veterinarian operating a mixed-animal practice within one hundred miles of the northwest Virginia border kept him hopping faster than a one-legged rooster in a chicken shack. How had his father met the demand for forty years? Only six months after his death, Eli felt capsized, sinking deeper underwater.
Entering the kitchen, he froze mid-stride, inhaling. Was it his imagination or did he smell maple syrup and baked bread? He did a quick survey of all the surfaces. Sure enough, a plate of six fluffy homemade biscuits with crisp buttered tops stuffed with thick-cut bacon sat in a faded aluminum pie pan on the stove. Eli narrowed his gaze. Oh, she’d stacked the deck—aka hot buttered bribe biscuits—in her favor.
His mom sat at the oak table, her long sienna coils gathered in a single braid, her readers perched, her makeup subtle. As the Calvary family matriarch, she was always prepared, always put together. As a kid, he’d thought his mother was the prettiest woman in Service. With her flawless toasted brown skin, gemstone-green eyes, and natural grace, she’d commanded attention at those parent-teacher conferences.
And she still did. Her smile could brighten the cloudiest of days. And her heart… well, it beat to make the world better for others. Especially her family.
Like her, the home of his youth was a mix of classic style and modern design. The vaulted ceilings made the space seem cavernous, a feeling he still appreciated at his six-foot height. The left wall held gray Dutch door cabinets with natural stone counters and a huge farmhouse white enamel sink. The polished timber floors showed signs of a home well used and well loved.
“Good morning,” his momma chimed, slowly lifting her gaze to regard him. She did that once-over thing that all mothers do with their kids—one head, ten fingers, no blood. He must have passed inspection because she moved to the next step on the checklist.
Seeing as this impromptu summons started before his workday, it would probably focus on his mom’s two favorite topics: the bottom line and the opposite sex—money he desperately needed, the other he avoided at all costs. He got straight to the point.
“Three women ruined my sleep,” he groused, depositing his cap on the arm of a kitchen chair.
Leah’s brows dipped in a furrow. “Oh dear, sounds like a discussion for your brothers.” She grinned at her joke.
Eli scowled. Crossing to the sink, he used the bar soap to wash his hands, then dried them on a cloth dangling from the under-sink cabinet knob.
“Rosa Mae Perkins sent me a selfie. Apparently, she’s got a twenty-five-dollar donation with my name on it for the exorbitant price of watching her model lingerie,” he said, jabbing imaginary daggers at his eyeballs.
His mother’s face lit faster than a firecracker. “Nice.” She chuckled. “You two went to high school together, right?”
“She was my history teacher, Momma… ancient history.” He angled his head, gesturing to the scribbled office policy suspended by two Georgia peach magnets on the refrigerator. “Whatever fool notion is going on with that woman’s mind, you started it,” he accused. “That counts as two for one under interference violations. Unnecessary distractions. And matchmaking.”
A big smile broke out on her face. “A woman that goes for what she wants should be applauded.” She grinned. “Back in our heyday, Rosa Mae was Founder’s Day queen. I ain’t mad at her for pulling out the lace.”
“Mad?” He chuckled but stopped himself. “Try traumatized. Why do they have a queen at the festival anyways? We build a stage every year for her majesty. Where’s the king?”
“This may be a man’s world, but it would be nothing without a woman, dear.”
“You went there?” His mom winked, adjusting her glasses. She was actually enjoying this conversation. That made it worse than embarrassing.
“What?” She shrugged. “That was funny.”
“Not even a little.”
“Maybe Rosa Mae will put a smile back on your face.” Eli saw the concern before his momma quickly masked it. There was nothing wrong with his face or disposition. Trusted advice had been the hallmark of his relationship with his parents, but Eli relied on his own judgment in the female department. The last thing he needed was a woman softening him up so love could rip another chunk out of his hide. Once upon a time he dreamt of having a wife and children, but love, that cagey beast, had a vicious bite. Eli’s wounds infected him beyond cure.
“Your meddling has to stop, Momma. These women booking needless appointments.” He shook his head. “Jessie McGillacutty tried to French-kiss me last week after I gave her a Kitty Kibbles sampler. I had to racehorse hurdle over the exam table, and her acrylic nails drew blood.”
“But that’s just one woman.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m telling you, women are a distraction I don’t want or need.”
“The right partner will change your mind.”
“It won’t. My focus is on getting money flowing into the business, nothing else.” That statement seemed to redirect her attention away from his single status.
“Pendleton Community Bank turned us down,” she stated matter-of-factly, with no question or judgment in her tone. “Have you told your brothers about the half payments on the mortgage for the last three months?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not, Eli?” His mother studied him, concern in her eyes.
“’Cause I already know I messed up. Seeing that truth in their eyes, well…” He swallowed, unable to say more.
“They’re your brothers, not a jury.”
Didn’t matter. Eli had judged and convicted his failures long ago. “Doesn’t make it any easier.”
“I know, son. Just lay out the facts.”
The mortgage refinance denial letter burned in his jeans pocket, a lump of hot coal threatening to torch his father’s legacy. Twenty-eight years this location between the mountains, this house, and the adjoining veterinary practice had belonged to the Calvarys. His father, Levi, had taught him and his brothers that a man protected and provided for those he loved. His family had planted roots, labored, and loved the ground he walked every morning. At thirty-three, Eli hadn’t achieved a quarter of his father’s successes at the same age. He fell below the measuring tape, but nevertheless, he would keep fighting. He’d figure the whole mess out before worrying Tobias and Noah.
“This month’s payment was applied before the late fees. I know what I’m doing.” He didn’t have a clue, but he worked overtime to find the winning combination.
Each disastrous attempt to increase revenue, like the physical exam with a fifty percent off grooming package, had netted him two unpaid bills instead of one. Then there’d been the free hot dogs and popcorn that had morphed into a backyard barbecue keg party without a single pet appointment booked by close of business. Folks from two counties over had shown up for that dollar dump. Oddly enough, for those few hours he’d forgotten the severity of his missteps, how he’d been hemorrhaging money for months.
“All of us are in this together—”
“Not their problem or yours,” he interrupted. “I resigned my commission to come home. Dad trusted me to handle it.” As the eldest son, the responsibility to hold the family together fell on his shoulders, an imbalanced weight he wasn’t sure he deserved to carry. How could he stand tall when his choices, bad choices, had dragged his family to the edge of ruin?
“Not alone,” she chided. “We’re a family.”
During his four years as a U.S. Army veterinarian, he’d led commissioned officers and enlisted personnel under his command, ensured the health of military service animals, and participated in animal health clinical research both at home and abroad. He knew how to strategize and execute, and was no stranger to hard labor. He alone needed to fix this wrong. After all, their father had mortgaged the property so that Eli would have the down payment on his first home with his new wife. The wife who’d abandoned him before they’d spent one night in their custom-designed forever home. So, if anyone had to put in more hours and lie awake at night staring at the ceiling, gut churning over his choices, it had to be him. Maybe, if he got things right again, fate would grant him the redemption he desperately wanted. But how to save their homestead remained a scattered puzzle with missing pieces and no visual guide. Unwilling to admit defeat, even to his brothers, Eli drew on the strength of his military training. Quell the storm and bring the thunder. But first, he had to race relentless rain while navigating the floodwaters. He couldn’t allow his failure to pull them all under the deluge.
His momma would accuse him of being bullheaded. He’d toss in a couple of you’re pretty stubborn yourselfs, and the whole day would sour faster than old milk on a hot day. The truth lay closer to shame than male ego. But the lie flowed sweet compared to bitter reality.
“Here we go again,” he muttered under his breath, knowing how this conversation would begin and end. “I don’t need another ‘we are family’ pep rally.”
“Eli Calvary.” His mother’s voice held a note of warning as her gaze angled up at him. “You’d best get yourself a cup of coffee before you say another word. I’m in a good mood. You best not jeopardize that. The pot is fresh brewed, go ahead now.”
Chagrined, he resisted the urge to drop his head. He led the business now, but this was his mother. Leah Calvary kept a dough rolling pin within reach. She was known to swat a backside or three if he or his brothers usurped her maternal authority.
“Yes, ma’am.” Snagging the mugs from the counter, he poured two cups of freshly ground dark roast, black, no sugar, placing one on the kitchen table in front of an unusually fidgety Leah. He thought back to the bribe biscuits. What was she up to?
As she relaxed in her chair, her shoulders fell away from her ears. “Any calls on the job posting in the bulletin?”
Eli tried not to deepen his scowl and failed. “Nope.”
Praying for a miracle hadn’t produced a single applicant or improved the red in his ledger. Six weeks ago, he’d paid eighty bucks to place a weekly help wanted ad in the tri-county bulletin. With his twelve-hour workdays, he needed more than a groomer on staff. He’d settle for a front desk receptionist/veterinary assistant/kennel technician who’d share in his fantasy that the clinic’s floating pay scale was a financial adventure rather than a sign of imminent collapse.
“The right person will come along.” She smiled at him. “You’ll see.”
“Yeah” was all he said, because he had his doubts—and an ever-increasing mountain of Payment Overdue notices.
“Where’s your pup?” Leah asked, shifting from a hopeless proposition to his retired military pooch. Count on his momma to shield her son from experiencing more disappointment.
“Out back,” he replied. “The sun will bake him before too long.” One look and he knew his momma suspected his exit strategy.
She chuckled, removing her glasses, nimble fingers folding the wings, one then the other, before setting them aside. “You think leaving Hiccup outside will make this a quick visit, huh?”
Despite his irritation at the conversation to come, he smiled. “Why’d you call a meeting?”
“Eat your breakfast before your brothers get here. You’ll need fast reflexes for Mrs. Kline’s feline, Adele.”
A mixed practice like his, daily work with large and small animals, required stamina for ornery horses and cattle and a layer of protective padding for the household companions.
“You’re stalling.” Glancing down at the stack of pink papers beside his momma, Eli recalled the “add ink” symbol flashing on the office printer.
What has she done this time?
He imagined his face on a poster with the words FREE TO RICH WOMAN printed above his head.
“Hmm,” she sighed, after a sip, not divulging her latest scheme. “That’s good. It’s a new blend I ordered from the computer.”
For her birthday, Tobias had gifted their momma a laptop computer. Every item regardless of the retailer came from the ever-present computer. Eli detested the ease in which technology invaded everyday living, monopolized countless hours. For what? Likes and smiley faces from strangers? No thanks.
“Momma, spill it,” he grumbled, ready to hear the mission impossible, reject it, and then get on with his morning. “Whoever she is… I’m going to pack up her juggling act and send her back to the carnival.” He’d suffered enough humiliation for love’s sake. “We can find our own women.”
He watched as Leah struggled to hide her amusement.
“Name one woman you’ve entertained in the past four months, Eli Calvary. Who are you bringing to Gracie Lou and Caleb’s wedding in three weeks?”
She had him there. In fact, the only woman to enter his mountain-view cabin on the west end of the property had been… no one.
“I don’t want a woman or a date. I tried both, Momma,” he huffed. He’d loved Cara with everything he had inside his heart. Shared his dreams of a family, passing on his share of the Calvary land to their children. “Didn’t work.” Consistency and loyalty were valued in his hometown. But in the world beyond this rural community, they’d been his weakness. Coming home to Service had restored some semblance of order in his life. He had a purpose, but no way to pay a debt on a life he never owned. A four-figure mortgage on an empty house.
She reached over and patted his hand. “Cara wasn’t the one. She was a selfish, conniving—”
“Momma,” he exclaimed, squeezing her hand, “I’m over it.”
“And Vanessa Williams is my twin sister,” she said in quick retort, her cheeks flushing red with irritation.
“Once the house sells, it’ll free up some cash.” That’s if the property sold. According to his realtor, most growing families valued bedrooms over Cara’s indoor serenity garden. “And please give Auntie Vanessa my best when you speak to her.”
“Don’t be flip, Eli. You’re about to violate a momma policy and unlike yours, I have the power to exact punishment. That awful woman hurt my baby,” she muttered. “I won’t say any more about your ex-wife, but… I’m thinking aplenty.”
“I hear you, Momma Bear, but beauty felled this beast.” He’d been so taken with Cara’s appearance and attention that he’d missed how different they were. Four years and one divorce decree later, he’d seen more than he’d ever wanted to witness regarding the ugly side of trusting the wrong woman. He was done. Cooked. Burned. Scarred.
“Beauty, huh… not the b-word I’d choose,” she groused. “Keep living. You’ll discern the difference between a woman’s makeup and her make up. You’re a man who trusts people at their word, Eli.”
“Right.” Scrubbing one hand over his scruff, Eli choked down old resentment with now-lukewarm coffee. Trusting people, especially women, led to disaster. He’d be like his father, self-reliant. Self-made.
Just then, Tobias, dressed in his emergency medical technician uniform, appeared with a grinning Noah on his heels. According to Leah, he and his brothers resembled their late father—warm beige skin, midnight hair, long legs, broad shoulders. The only difference was their eyes. Eli had inherited his mom’s green eyes, piercing and assessing. Tobias’s intense blue-gray eyes, like his personality, were a balance between a rising storm and breaking dawn. And Noah, his hazel gaze accentuated his big cat magnetism and trapped more women in the tri-county region than a possum cage coated with smooth peanut butter. His baby brother had never met a lady who garnered a “No, thank you” from him to a closed-door conversation.
“You alright, Mom?” Tobias bent and placed a kiss on their momma’s offered cheek.
“Hey, baby. Everything is fine.” His mother smiled up at her middle son, the worrywart of the pack.
Even as kids, Tobias had cataloged their injuries and checked the medicine bottles for expiration dates.
“I smell food.” Noah grabbed two biscuits, biting into one before acknowledging anyone in the room.
“Hey,” Eli protested. “Save one for me.”
With his mouth full, Noah shrugged. “You had first dibs. Always go for the win, big brother.”
His mom grinned. “Told you. No kiss for your momma, Noah Calvary?”
“Ugh, sorry Mom,” Noah said, his big boots scraping across the wood floor as he wrapped their momma in a bear hug before stealing a kiss.
“I have a plan to save the practice and the house,” she bubbled. “Take one.” She flipped over the pink stack and passed a single sheet to him and Tobias. Noah had his hands full with their breakfast.
Eli did a quick scan, pausing on his Army commissioning photo from five years earlier. That was a lifetime ago when he’d been a different man. “Mom, what is this?” he growled.
Tobias read aloud. “Silent Bachelor Auction Fundraiser.”
“Let me see that,” Noah said, stuffing his mouth with the second biscuit.
Younger than him by four years, Noah had not endured as much matchmaking crazy as he and Tobias. Apparently, that was about to change.
Silent Bachelor Auction Fundraiser: Save the Calvary Family Veterinary Clinic Homestead. Place your private bid to win a romantic dinner for two with a Calvary brother. All 3 are available!
As a bonus, the winner gets 50% off our 12-month pet grooming package!
Tobias crushed the paper, beer can–style. “Count me out. I had to replace two tires and my windshield after declining a second groping from Dixie Ball, your last recommendation.”
“Disco Dixie. She’s a handsy one.” Noah winked, until their momma narrowed her eyes in warning. Before his baby brother could add more heat to the hot water pooling around his wildland fire boots, he changed the subject. “What I meant to say was, I saw these pink pimp posters tacked to every tree between here and Matt Johnson’s farm.”
“That’s a half mile up the mountainside,” Eli rasped. “How many of these blasted flyers have you posted?”
“Enough” was all she offered. “Plus, the paid ad in the county bulletin with your old Army picture.”
“This—this is a violation of policy. You’re matchmaking on company time,” Eli stammered, disbelieving the start to his week. Talk about a fresh day in green hell. “Rosa Mae Perkins is sane compared to the crazies in these hills. This auction is a dog whistle.”
Tobias nodded. “You ain’t never lied.”
“Rosa Mae power walks past the fire station. Might be worth a conversation or two.” Noah winked.
Not-so-clever sexual innuendo metaphors were Noah’s gift.
“You’re stupid.” Eli glared at his youngest brother before shifting his gaze to face off with his mother. “Some of the women in town, their bite is worse than their bark. How do we shut down the portal website thing?”
“You can’t.” Leah beamed. “That’s the genius behind the computer. I have a password. With the cute pictures I chose of you boys, this will succeed. The women, I mean the bidders, place a dollar amount under a bachelor’s name. That’s you three, by the way. They can also donate directly to the fundraiser. If they place the winning bid, they’ll have the pleasure of a romantic dinner with one of my handsome sons and a chance at happily ever after. All the bids are blind. That means you three won’t know the bidders’ identity or which of you is earning the most money. It’s a win-win-win. Oh, and your dating profiles are hanging in the post office, too.”
“You mean WANTED posters,” Tobias groused, pacing the length of the floor, red spreading up from his collar the more he talked.
His momma pulled out the chair closest to her. “Tobias, don’t worry. This is my best dummy-proof, money-making idea ever.”
She practically squealed in delight, while Eli’s blood chilled in his veins. More senior citizens sexting was in his future.
Eli ran a hand through his dense waves, staring at his momma. “Shut down the site. Cancel the ad today. I’ll torch as many of the flyers as I can before the looney tunes start—”
The chime alerting them to someone at the front door ended his tirade. Because he had absolutely no idea what he could say to convince his mother to cease and leave the rescuing to him, he bellowed, “Come in.”
The screen door slammed. Footsteps, small and light, could be heard in the formal living room, before a disembodied feminine voice called out.
“Ah, can you say something else? This house is even bigger on the inside.” She paused, and then said, “I’m a little turned around.”
“Who’s that?” Tobias whispered. Noah shrugged.
Eli straightened. “We’re in the kitchen. Back and left.”
Laughter sounded cheery, but still distant, before she asked. “Your left or mine?”
With his long-legged stride Eli set off in the direction of their unknown visitor. “I’m coming.”
“No,” she snapped. “Don’t move. I’ll find you on my own.”
Eli stopped in his tracks, not by direction but in irritation. Who was this woman giving him instruction in his own house? “You hear this?” he accused Leah, pointing to the pink flyer as if it had conjured up a harbinger of doom. “She’s one of them.”
His mother snorted, pushing her chair back from the table. “This is a woman I want to meet.”
He snapped out of his paralysis, moving through the parlor his mother used as a reading room. Tobias and Noah fell in step.
In strode a woman, skin the color of autumn leaves, five feet, eight inches tall, curvy, and smiling—unnaturally, in his opinion—for seven thirty in the morning. There was lots of hair, swept to one side by some fancy celebrity-style headwrap, and tons of purple. Her flowy shirt, the pants, and her painted toenails, which peeped at Eli from girly sandals with silver studs, were all purple.
“Who are you?” Eli stared in open curiosity—and irritation. She slipped a pair of jumbo sunglasses off her face revealing large brown eyes beneath fanning dark lashes. He paused, maybe even stared, taking in the details. A beautiful woman with obsessive tendencies. This was a bad combination.
“Ah… good morning, I’m Amarie Walker,” she sputtered, then popped the county bulletin from under her arm. Half of his face from five years earlier stared back at him. The folded crease split his forehead into two sections like the separation between his former life and current day. Obviously, his momma’s tomfoolery had brought the crazies a-calling. Eli was just about to haul her to the door when she announced, “I’m here for the job.”
“Aw… really?” came Tobias’s cautious, but optimistic, reply.
“Gotta be new in town,” Noah said, more than a hint of interest in his timbre.
Eli shifted into business mode. “You didn’t schedule an interview.”
“Well, no, but I’m here now. Efficiency is a plus, right?”
“Wrong,” he said dryly. “Following proper procedure is.” Eyes wide, she looked past him to the rest of his family as if they might back up her statement.
“Huh… okay,” she responded with a tilt of her head, causing all those curls to brush her exposed brown shoulder.
“Okay?” he quizzed. “Anything else you care to add?”
Service had grown to a little over one thousand residents in his thirty-three years. Still considered a small town, the meadow between the Appalachian Mountains had doubled in size. Folks tended to spread the word about newcomers in the community. Eli didn’t know everybody, but he would’ve remembered her. This rogue candidate would inject an unexpected excitement into the daily routine.
Her skin looked soft and velvety like the suede coat he wrapped himself in during the winter months. In fact, all of Amarie Walker looked soft and warm. The more Eli studied her spiraled curls and cushy contours, the more he lost the flow of conversation, choosing to think on more intimate things he’d foregone.
“Well, I could step outside, and then call you, Mr.…” she paused, waiting.
Clearing his throat and his brain of soft shoulders, he grumbled, “Calvary, Eli. The veterinarian and owner of Calvary Vet.”
“Yes, of course you are.” She sighed, the smile tacked in place with superglue. “I could call you, Mr. Calvary, and schedule an appointment for… now?”
She’d made her point. It would be ridiculous of him to send her away, his first and only party interested in filling the position. He could flex for a qualified candidate.
“No need,” he said, in his take-charge voice. “Let’s see your resume.”
“Ugh, I—I don’t have one.”
“Not with you or not at all?” Oh boy, he was right to be suspicious. This woman with her disarming smile and sunny disposition hadn’t prepared for the interview at all. She probably would be late every morning and leave early every evening.
She blinked. “Is an answer required for employment?”
Against his better judgment, he’d thought to give her a chance. He should have known better.
“You walk in for a job interview without a scheduled appointment or your job history?”
“I could just tell you,” she mused, that wide grin of hers aimed at him, not the least bit perturbed that she wasn’t meeting the boss’s expectations.
Eli scowled. “No, you can’t.” He had procedures in place to mitigate these types of shenanigans. His future employee, whoever it was, would appreciate the structure he provided. This Amarie person, with her disarming purple haze, had antiestablishment vibes. “Come back when you have—”
His momma chimed in, and Eli gritted his teeth at the intrusion in company business. “I’m Leah Calvary, Eli’s mother. I was just about to eat my breakfast. Would you care for a cup of coffee, Amarie?”
Her face split into a wide grin like she’d been offered a winning lottery ticket. “That would be divine. Thank you.”
Not to be outdone, Noah added his two non-cents. “We have one homemade biscuit left.”
“One… wait a darn minute,” Eli protested. Now they’d offered up his meal to an unqualified applicant.
Tobias started to cough, a fluffy biscuit suspended inches from his full mouth. “Can’t eat just one.”
“Coffee and biscuits. You’re speaking my love language,” she rasped, accepting Noah’s hand and doing what could only be described as a sashay. She smiled when she passed his stony form, her crisp scent of fresh apples and summer honey teasing his nostrils. “I like your benefits package already.”
No, this couldn’t be his Monday. This woman, this stranger who’d walked into his home, unprepared, and stayed for breakfast—an epic violation of policy. Whether his or the company’s, it was unclear, but Amarie Walker was the absolute wrong person for the job.