The Perfect Gift

“It’s all fuzzy,” she admitted. Then, in spite of her pain and her odd circumstances landing on his couch, she remembered her manners and said, “I’m Goldie Rios.”

He smiled at that, sending out a radiant warmth that brought Goldie a sense of comfort and security. “I’m Rory Branagan and these are my sons, Tyler and Sam.”

“I’m Tyler,” the little one added, grinning.

Sam didn’t say anything. He seemed downright sad as he stared at her. Sad and a bit distrustful. How could she blame him? He’d come home to find a strange woman bleeding on his furniture.

“It’s good to meet all of you,” Goldie responded. “And thanks for being so kind to me.”

Rory’s soft smile shined again, making Goldie wonder if she might yet be dreaming. This man was a sensitive father. And probably a considerate husband. And for some reason that her hurting brain couldn’t quite figure out, that bothered Goldie. Trying to think, she realized she couldn’t remember much but the accident. Where had she been? And where was she headed?

The sound of a siren broke Rory’s smile and brought Goldie out of her pounding thoughts. He jumped up and went into action while she blinked and closed her eyes. “I think your ride is here.” Then he glanced at his sons. “And so is a patrol car. You’ll need to give the police a report, nothing to worry about.”

Goldie could tell he’d added that last bit for the benefit of his sons, since their eyes grew even wider. The little one showed excitement, but the older boy’s eyes held a dark, brooding anger.

If her head hadn’t hurt so much, Goldie might have been able to figure that one out. And get to know Not-so-fierce Man a little better. She was certainly content to stay right here in the light of that great smile. But she was in pain, no doubt. And although she wasn’t sure if she needed to go to the hospital, she didn’t have much choice. Her car was probably totaled and she was too dizzy to stand up. Then, in a clear and concise image in her mind, she remembered her grandmother.

“I need to let Grammy know,” she noted. “My grandmother.”

“Sure. What’s her number?” Rory replied. “I’ll call her right now.”

Goldie rattled off the numbers, glad her brain was beginning to cooperate. “Her name is Ruth Rios.”

Rory let out a chuckle. “You don’t say? I should have made the connection when you told me your name. I know Miss Ruth. She goes to my church. So you’re her granddaughter?”

Goldie nodded. “I just came here a few weeks ago to help her out. She’s been recovering from hip surgery.”

“Yeah, we heard that and since she hasn’t been to church in a while…I’m sure sorry.” He gave her an apologetic look. “I should have gone by to see her.”

“She’s doing better,” Goldie informed him. “But I know she’s worried since I’m not home yet. I was supposed to be there hours ago.”

“I’ll call her, I promise,” Rory reiterated as the paramedics knocked on the door, followed by one of the three police officers serving Viola.

Goldie nodded, her mind whirling with pain and confusion. “Don’t let her get out in this weather. She doesn’t need to come to the hospital.” After that, she didn’t get much of a chance to say anything else to Rory. She was too busy being examined and questioned, both of which left her tired and even more confused.

The paramedics checked her vitals, asked her all the pertinent questions and concluded yes, she might have a mild concussion. And the officer seemed satisfied that she’d been in a one-car accident and that she hadn’t been drinking. He and Rory both assured her they’d have the car towed. So she was off to the hospital.

“I appreciate your help,” Goldie mumbled to Rory as she was lifted up and hustled onto the waiting gurney.

“Don’t worry about that,” Rory commented, following her stretcher out into the chilly night. “Take care, Goldie.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled again as the ambulance doors shut. She could just make out his image as he talked to the police officer.

But as she lay there with two efficient paramedics fussing over her, Goldie wondered if she’d ever see Rory Branagan again.

Doubtful, since she wouldn’t be staying here in Viola much longer now that Grammy was better. And double doubtful since she didn’t attend church with Grammy.

Or at least, she hadn’t yet.

The next morning, Goldie hung up the phone by her hospital bed to find Rory standing in the door of her room, holding a huge poinsettia in a green pot.

“Uh, hi,” he said, the big red and green plant blocking his face. “The nurse said I could come in.”

Goldie grinned then motioned to him. “Hi, yourself. I just talked to Grammy. She said you were so nice last night, calling her and keeping her informed. And that you wouldn’t let her get out in the weather even to come visit me.”

He lifted his chin in a quick nod. “She was pretty stubborn about doing just that, but I called her neighbor and asked her to sit with your grandmother. Then I contacted the hospital to check on you. Only, they didn’t want to give me any information. So I phoned your grandmother again and explained it to her, since she was your next of kin.” He laughed, took a breath then asked, “So how are you?”

“I’m fine,” Goldie reported, her heart doing an odd little dance as he set down the plant and came closer. “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”

“No trouble. Me and Miss Ruth go back a long way. I once rescued an armadillo out of her backyard.”

“Excuse me?” Goldie reclined against her pillows, taking in his crisp plaid flannel shirt and sturdy jeans. She didn’t think it was possible that he still looked so handsome, even in the glaring morning light, but he did.

“I work for the Department of Wildlife and Fisheries as a nuisance hunter. I get calls to trap wild animals, anything from armadillos and snakes to alligators and even the occasional black bear.”

“You’re kidding?”

He looked downright sheepish. “No, that’s my job.”

“Isn’t that sorta dangerous?”

He grinned again. “Not as dangerous as forcing myself to come to the hospital in an ice storm to check on you. And mind you, it wasn’t the storm that scared me.”

He did seem a bit uncomfortable. He fidgeted with the water jar and rearranged her drinking cup. And Goldie’s impish nature clicked on. “What, you don’t like hospitals?”

“That and…I’m a bit rusty on talking to women.”

She filed that comment away to study more closely later. He had two little boys so he was obviously a happily married man. Disappointing but comforting in a strange way. He looked like the kind of man who belonged in a family.

Nobody liked hospitals but the expression in his eyes told her maybe he’d had some firsthand experience with this kind of thing. Maybe she’d ask him about that, too, but right now, she only wanted to put him at ease. “I’m easy to talk to on most days and I really like the flower.”

“It was the only thing I could find at the superstore on the highway.”

“It’s pretty, but again, you didn’t have to come see me.”

“I promised Miss Ruth.” He shrugged. “And I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

Goldie stared at the plant. “I have a slight concussion, but they’re releasing me this afternoon. I just have to rest for the weekend and take over-the-counter pain reliever. No ibuprofen though, since it can cause some sort of bleeding—doctor’s orders.” She motioned to a paper on the bedside table. “I have a whole list of instructions on all the things to watch for after a concussion.” And she wondered if one of those things was a rapid pulse, and if Rory or her head injury was the cause of that symptom.

“So, what about your confusion and memory loss?”

She slanted her throbbing head. “I still can’t quite remember much more about the accident or what I was doing most of yesterday, but I’m okay. The doctor said I might not ever remember all of it. He just warned me of dizziness and confusion at times. But hey, I’m that way on a good day.”

He fingered one of the vivid red poinsettia leaves. “Your car was full of shopping bags.”

“You’ve seen my car?”

“I had it towed, remember?” He seemed embarrassed. “I guess you don’t. It’s at a nearby garage. But I got all the stuff out of it. It’s in my car right now. I can take it by your grandmother’s if you want me to.”

Goldie shook her head. “You’re amazing. What’s the catch?”

“Excuse me?” he asked, echoing her earlier words to him. “What catch?”

She shrugged, wincing at her sore muscles. “You just seem too good to be true.”

He lowered his head. When he looked back up, his eyes were dark with some unspoken emotion. “Oh, I’m not, trust me. I just walked across the woods last night with the policeman to check on your car and then I notified a friend who owns a body shop to tow it. After you file your insurance report and get the go-ahead, he’ll give you a good estimate—that is if you want him to fix the car.”

Goldie decided not to question why he deflected the compliment. “Can it be fixed?”

“Maybe.” He stood quietly and then said, “I hope I didn’t overstep—having him pick up the car.”

Goldie shook her head. “No, not at all. I just didn’t need this to happen right now. I’m here to help Grammy and I depend on my car to get me around. Just one more thing to deal with.”

He inclined his head in understanding. “Maybe you can rent a car or drive your grandmother’s.”

Goldie laughed. “Her car is ancient but it does move, barely. Grammy says it has one speed—slow.”

His smile was back. “I see you have her sense of humor.”

“Keeps me sane.”

He seemed amused then said, “Well, I guess I’d better get back to the house. I left my sons with my mother—again. That poor woman never gets a break.” His smile was indulgent. “We made two snowmen—one in our yard and one in hers.”

She looked out the window. “Did it snow last night?”

“Yeah, a pretty good dusting. The ground is covered white and we were able to get two passable snowmen.”

“Are the roads okay, then?”

“The roads are fine now. I had to be careful driving into town, but the sun melted most of the ice. However, we could have another round tomorrow.” He turned toward the door then whirled. “Hey, do you need a ride home?”

Goldie didn’t know how to respond. This man seemed to know what she needed even before she voiced it. That was very disconcerting to a woman who was used to being independent and confident and…alone. “I hadn’t thought about that. I sure don’t want Grammy trying to find someone to drive me, even if the roads are clear.”

“I can take you right now.”

He really was a sweet man. “I haven’t been released yet. The doctor said later today.”

“I’ll come back and take you home, then,” he confirmed, holding up a hand when she tried to protest. “I just have to help the boys do some things around our place. We have a small herd of cows and they need checking on and we all have chores to do, but they can stay with my mom while I take you to your grandmother’s house.”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“I insist. Your grandmother’s worried about you and I don’t mind. I’ll call her.”

“I can call Grammy,” Goldie asserted. “I’ll tell her you’re bringing me home. They said midafternoon, after I see the doctor one more time and he signs my release.”

“So, I’ll be back around three.”

Goldie had to ask. “You said your mother watches the boys a lot? Does your wife work?” And where had his wife been last night?

“I don’t have a wife,” he corrected, the light going out of his eyes. “She…died a few years ago.”

Wishing she’d learn to keep her curiosity to herself, Goldie looked down at her hands. That probably explained his aversion to hospitals. “I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t comment. He just nodded his head again in a silent acknowledgment. “I’ll see you at three.”

“Okay. Thanks again, Rory. For everything.”

He waved goodbye then shut the door.

“Nice going, Goldie,” she whispered to herself. If her head hadn’t been so sore, she would have hit her forehead in disgust. Why was she accident-prone with herself and her mouth?

Instead, Goldie closed her eyes and remembered the homeyness of Rory’s rambling farmhouse, the cute grins of his two little boys—wait, the cute grin of the youngest of his two boys, at least—and the way Rory’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. And she imagined the kind of woman who’d once been a part of that lovely picture. The kind of woman who baked cookies, kept the house neat and played kick ball with the boys in the backyard. A loving, caring, motherly type woman.

And she reminded herself she was not that kind of woman even if she did have a compulsion toward being organized. Besides, she’d come here to help her grandmother, not get involved with yet another male even if this one seemed to actually understand the meaning of the words trust and commitment. In spite of her accident and her fuzzy memories, she somehow knew she had a very good reason for not wanting a man in her life—no matter how kind Rory Branagan had been to her and how much her heart was telling her that this man just might be different from all the rest.

Chapter Three

Her locket was missing.

Frantic, Goldie searched all around her bed and the bedside table, then buzzed for a nurse. She glanced at the clock. It was almost time for Rory to come and take her home, but she couldn’t leave without her locket. When the bubbly RN rushed into her room, Goldie was just about out of the bed.

“Don’t try to get up by yourself,” the nurse objected, holding Goldie’s arm. “Do you need a bathroom break?”

“No, I…I can’t find my locket,” Goldie replied, willing herself not to cry. “It’s on a gold chain—it’s a filigree-etched square with a porcelain picture of a Louisiana iris and a tiny yellow butterfly. Somebody must have taken it off me when they brought me in.”

The nurse opened drawers and went through the nearby closet. “Here’s the bag that came with your personal belongings. Want me to check inside? It might be in your purse.”

Goldie nodded. “If you don’t mind.”

She watched closely as the nurse searched her leather purse then rummaged through Goldie’s clothes from last night. “I don’t see anything like that, honey. Maybe you gave the locket to someone for safekeeping before you came here?”

“No,” Goldie replied, trying to think. Had Rory removed the locket last night? Or had she lost it? She couldn’t remember. What if someone had taken it? She’d never forgive herself if something had happened to it.

“Just relax and I’ll ask at the desk,” the nurse advised, trying to reassure her as she handed Goldie her belongings.

Goldie bobbed her head. “Ask everyone. I have to find it. It’s very old and has a lot of sentimental value.”

“Okay.” The nurse walked toward the door. “I’ll see what I can do, but you know the hospital isn’t—”

“I know—not responsible for the loss of valuables,” Goldie repeated. “I understand.”

But she wanted her necklace back. She had to find it. So she waited for the nurse to leave, then she carefully got up to search on her own. She made it to the end of the bed but she stood up too quickly. Her pulse quickened as blood rushed from her head and made her dizzy.

And that’s when Rory walked in and grabbed her just as she reached for the bed for support.

“Hey, hey,” Rory urged, guiding Goldie back to the bed. “Where you going, sunshine?”

“My locket,” Goldie explained, squeezing her eyes shut to stop the stars flashing through her brain. “I…I think I lost it.”

He gazed down at her. She looked so young and innocent, lying there devoid of makeup. Her hair wasn’t exactly blond, more burnished and gold than a true blond. It shimmered like silky threads against her cheeks while the square patch of gauze just over her hairline shined starkly white. The frown on her face only made her look more like a lost little girl than a determined woman.

“I remember your locket. You were wearing it last night. At least, I saw it when I turned you over on the couch.”

“I was?” She sat up again. “Maybe I lost it at your house.”

“I’ll look when I get home,” he said. Because this woman had disrupted his life to the point that he was worried about her and what she meant to him as a man, he asked, “So what’s the deal with that pretty locket, anyway?”

She looked away, toward the window. “My daddy gave it to me before he went to war during Desert Storm. It has a picture of me and him inside it. He never made it home.”

“Oh, wow.” Rory felt bad for being so nosy. “I’m sure sorry to hear that. No wonder it means so much to you.”

“It does and it’s very old. It belonged to his great-great-grandmother. And my grandmother gave it to him to give to me on my twelfth birthday. It’s kind of a tradition in our family. Grammy says good things happen to the women who wear that locket. So far, that hasn’t exactly been the case with me.”

Rory hadn’t pegged her for being traditional nor for feeling sorry for herself, but under the circumstances, he could certainly understand why she looked so down. And he could sympathize with her need to find the piece of jewelry. “I’ll look over the house and in the yard, too. I’ll get the boys to help.”

“I’d appreciate that.” She stared at the ceiling. “I’ve made such a mess of things. Wrecking my car, losing my necklace. I need to get my life together somehow.”

Rory could tell she was fighting back tears. “Listen, your car might be fixable and…well, we’ll probably find your locket. Just be glad you’re okay. That wreck could have been much worse.”

She looked over at him, her smile bittersweet. “I guess I am acting a little over-the-top. And you’re right. I’m still here and Grammy needs me. It’s just that was one of the few things my daddy ever gave me. My parents were divorced so I didn’t get to see him much.”

“That’s a shame,” Rory replied. “I’m blessed that my parents had a great marriage. My mom’s a widow now, but I had a pretty good childhood. Nothing major—just lots of good memories.”

She smiled again. “Yes, you are blessed. I’ve never had that. We transferred all over while my dad was alive and in the army, then my mother moved us around a lot after the divorce. Grammy was the one who kept me grounded and safe, even if she and my mother don’t always see eye to eye.”

“And where’s your mother now? Should I call her?”

She shook her head. “No. That’s okay. I’ll give her an update when she checks on us. She’s traveling overseas, one of those long tours with a bunch of her friends—a big Christmas extravaganza. Angela likes to travel and she rarely calls home.”

Rory thought her daughter did not like that arrangement. In spite of her pretty curls and her soft smile, he sensed loneliness in Goldie. And he wondered how long she’d been searching for a safe place to lay her head. “Hey, let’s get you home to your grandmother. She’s told me she’s got a big pot of homemade chicken soup simmering on the stove just for you. And fresh-baked corn bread to go with it.”

“Grammy’s answer to anything is chicken soup,” Goldie said. “And she makes the best. She puts homemade dumplings in there.”

“I take it you like her cooking,” Rory replied, grinning.

“I like food, period.” She laughed then grimaced. “And if I stay with her much longer, I won’t be able to fit into any of my clothes.”

Rory thought Goldie looked just perfect, but he refrained from making such a flirtatious comment since they didn’t really know each other. Yet.

Then he told himself not to even think along those lines. He had enough to keep him busy, what with the boys, his mother and his work and, well, a man got lonely just like a woman did, he reasoned.

But he didn’t need to think about that right now.

“Has the doctor been by?” he asked, suddenly ready to get out of here.

Goldie waved toward the hallway. “Yes. I’m sorry, I guess you’re ready. I was waiting on the nurse. She’s checking around for my locket.”

“Oh, okay.” He tapped his knuckles on the food tray. “Got everything else together?”

“Yes. One of Grammy’s friends brought me this change of clothes. I sent your poinsettia home with her.”

He noticed she was wearing a sweater and some wide-legged sweatpants. “I could have brought that. I didn’t even think about clothes.”

“You’ve done more than enough,” Goldie said. “Besides, I think Grammy sent Phyllis to check on me and bring back a thorough report. And if I know my grandmother and Phyllis, they probably tag-teamed my doctor to get the whole story on my injuries.”

“Are you sure you’re up to going home?”

“Oh, yes, I’m ready to get into my own bed.” She lifted up. “Let’s go to the desk and see where that nurse is.”

Rory helped her. “Are you still dizzy?”

“No. I think I just got up too quickly before. And we’re not telling the nurse about that little episode. It wasn’t the awful dizziness I had after the wreck. I have work to do and I need to get back to it.”

“Oh, I don’t think you need to worry about work. It’s the weekend.”

“I have a deadline,” she explained. “I write a syndicated advice column. It’s mostly about organizing your house and keeping your life straight—something I haven’t been doing lately. And I’m already pushing things with my boss by working long distance.”

Rory gained a new insight. “A column? That’s interesting.”

“Not as interesting as being a nuisance hunter,” she retorted, standing on wobbly legs.

Rory laughed at that. “We’ll have to compare notes on that some time. I could use tips on organization and keeping things straight and orderly in my life, that’s for sure.”

“And I’ve always wanted to track down an alligator and wrestle it until I can tie its mouth shut,” she teased.

Rory got a picture of this petite woman holding down a ten-foot reptile. It made him smile.

“Don’t think I can do it?” she asked as they made it out of her room.

“I have no doubt,” he replied, not willing to argue the point with an injured woman.

“And I think you’d be pretty good at doling out advice,” she replied. “At least, I think women would listen to you no matter what you say. They’d follow your advice based on your smile alone.”

That made him take notice. Giving her the best smile he could muster, he prompted, “So, you like my smile, huh?”

She laughed, a soft pink flush coloring her cheeks. “I do when I’m not seeing two of you.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just wish I hadn’t lost my locket. Let’s get out of here, though, so you don’t have to wait.”

“Not so fast, young lady.”

They turned to find her doctor and the nurse who’d been in her room trailing them down the hallway. “You need to be in this. Standard hospital policy.”

Goldie glared at the wheelchair. “Oh, all right.” Settling herself into the chair, she turned to the nurse. “Did you find my locket?”

“I’m afraid not, honey,” the nurse replied. “I’m sorry. Everything that came in with you should be in that bag the paramedics put your personal things in.”

Goldie clutched her purse and the plastic bag labeled with her name. “Maybe somebody dropped it in here and we just didn’t see it. It could be in the pocket of the jeans I was wearing yesterday.”

“We’ll look when we get you home,” Rory suggested, hoping to distract her from tossing out the contents of her purse and the bag right here. Or refusing to get home to some rest. She looked so upset, he wondered if she shouldn’t stay in the hospital another night.

She didn’t answer. She was too busy digging around in the deep recesses of her big leather purse, pulling out various labeled little sacks of all sorts. She had a bag for everything inside that larger bag. “I sure hope I can find it.”

“We’ll keep looking,” the nurse said, waving to them.

When they got outside, Goldie had that lost expression on her face again.

“They won’t find it,” she said. “Somebody probably stole it. It’s pretty valuable, considering how old it is. But I don’t care about how much money it can bring. I just want it back.”