Touch of Magic

By Jeanne Harrell

Remember your first kiss? Your first deep, passionate love? Touch of Magic is three sweet stories inspired by nursery rhymes of those wonderful moments as we fondly remember them.
In "Rain, Rain Go Away," a shy meteorologist at a TV station yearns for the love of a Stevie Nicks loving copy editor during the worst flood in Reno history.
"Tinker, Taylor," tells the romantic story of a body-surfing cowboy who gets swept off his feet on the beach of Malibu by a pretty teacher who has given up on love.
In "Gingerbread Man," a hotshot financier in Las Vegas meets a concert pianist, also the girl he left behind, just when the corporate winds are beginning to blow against him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeanne Harrell
• Release date: Sep 9, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370511327

Jeanne Harrell

Jeanne Harrell is an author who lives and writes romantic stories occurring in the Wild West. Her sweet and relatively innocent Western books include the Rancher series, The Westerners Series and Avila Beach Winery Series. Cowboys, Indians, stagecoaches and John Ford movies captured her interest long ago and held it. She lives in Nevada and captures many beautiful Western scenes with photos, found on her website. What she loves best is to tangle two strong characters, emboil them in conflict and let them hash it out. P.S. Jeanne also writes mysteries as SJ Slagle and children's books as Sinda Cheri Floyd.

Book preview

Rain, rain, go away,

Come again another day.

Brian and Cassidy want to go out and play.

* * *

RAIN, RAIN, GO AWAY

CHAPTER 1

The city braced for a flood and not just any flood. The heavens were going to unleash waves of water not seen for a decade!

Brian McTaggart and other local weather experts were predicting the worst flood in Reno since 1997. The Truckee River, flowing through the center of the city, had spilled out into the streets, stranded some thousand holiday travelers at the airport, closed businesses and casinos, and sent residents scampering to higher ground. The river had overflowed to the point that officials could not gauge how high the water rose because it washed out the gauge they had been using.

And this flood was gearing up to be another weather phenomenon of epic proportions. Brian headed back to work at KTVN, Channel 8 in Reno after a late night at the station. Forecast models on his computer had sent dire warnings about the weather occurring before his eyes. Record snowfall had hit the Truckee Meadows basin where Reno resided for the previous few days. Now the National Weather Service predicted a one hundred percent chance of heavy rain for the following two days. With above freezing temperatures, Brian knew that combination would likely melt the snowpack in the Sierra Mountains and send the water produced rushing down the Truckee River, right into Reno’s bustling downtown.

As head meteorologist at the television station, Brian put in long hours checking the satellites and radar for updates. His forecast models showed predictions for time periods of up to eight days and 40,000 feet in elevation making him certain of the information he talked about on air.

McTaggart! You got that data from the satellite system about avalanche warnings? Brian’s boss at the station, Sherm Davies, stopped by his desk with a frown parked on his fatigue-ravaged face. Brian knew that Sherm wasn’t getting any more sleep these days than he was and had still been at the station when Brian finally left late last night.

Yes, sir. I already passed on that information to the Sierra Avalanche Center an hour ago. They’re issuing warnings to skiers to stay out of the back country until the storm is over.

Huh, Sherm snorted. Might be a damn fine idea if those idiots stayed home out of the storm instead of risking their lives and the lives of first responders sent to rescue them when they get in trouble.

Obviously, Sherm wasn’t in a good mood. Brian nodded and turned back to his computer.

Sherm opened his mouth to say something else when a young woman came rushing up. Brian knew who it was without even turning around—Cassidy Skilling.

Mr. Davies? Could I see you a minute? I’m pulling together that research you wanted for the road and school closures.

What’s the problem?

No problem, sir. I was hoping you would send me out to get first-hand accounts from residents at the sandbagging centers. She paused and took a deep breath. It would be helpful to see how the locals are holding up and how the closures are affecting them.

Brian waited but he knew he wouldn’t have to wait very long. Pretty Cassidy, stuck at the copy editor’s desk, was busting her buttons trying to become a reporter. He glanced back to see her reaction. Cassidy with the soulful brown eyes and velvety smooth ponytail, pretty as a full moon, stood ramrod straight in hopeful anticipation of Sherm’s response. Either that or she was preparing for the onslaught headed in her direction.

Damn it, girl. I’m not sending you out as a reporter. Your job is research and copyediting. Do I need to read your job description to you again?

The glint in her eyes flashed. Sir. I’ll have you know that I’m twenty-five years old and haven’t been a girl for quite some time now.

I…

And I know what my job is here, but all the reporters are swamped and can use some help.

Now, listen…

No, Mr. Davies. I’ve been listening for two years now and I’ve asked you repeatedly for a chance at reporting. You keep shooting me down!

If you’d give me a chance to respond, Miss Skilling, I’d say you need to take this up with Personnel. I don’t make the hiring decisions around here which you jolly well know! He looked over at Brian, hands on his hips. And what are you looking at McTaggart? This is a private conversation.

It might be a little more private if you had it in your office, Sherm, instead of behind me, breathing down my neck like a fire-spewing dragon.

Brian’s eyes slid to Cassidy smiling at him. She mouthed thank you before moving away behind the fast-moving news director. Brian almost laughed; if Davies thought he was getting rid of her, he had another think coming. That woman was as tenacious as they come. Turning back to his computer, Brian mentally added that tiny gem of data to the database he was compiling about Cassidy. The National Dopplar Radar map showed the intense rainfall that had already begun in the northern Nevada area. Precipitation levels were extremely heavy but he only had to look outside to know that.

His mind strayed to his Cassidy database. For the two years she had worked at the station, he learned she had a sister and divorced parents. Her mother was Puerto Rican, no doubt contributing to Cassidy’s beautiful skin and lovely hair, rich and glossy. Yes, he was smitten and not at all embarrassed about it since no one knew except his two best friends: Logan and Billy. Luckily, Logan was in China working for an oil exploration company and Billy was busy at a rival television station as cameraman. In other words, there was no one around right this minute to give him any grief about the fact that he idolized Cassidy from afar.

And died a little inside when he heard she was dating Chet Sawyer, the handsome nightly anchorman. Chet…Brian sighed and brought up a different satellite map checking directional radar findings. Chet was from a wealthy family including a grandfather who had once been governor of the state, for Pete’s sake. He seemed to be everything Brian was not as he grimly watched the weather patterns.

Feeling invisible sitting alone in his isolated forecast center, Brian tried not to feel sorry for himself, but a few whiny thoughts crept in anyway.

Why was it that the cute guy always got the cute girl?

And nice guys finished last.

Sure, he’d had a few girlfriends; his last one was three years ago and ended so badly he’d decided to take a break from women—until Cassidy showed up from Sacramento two years ago.

He was as good as could be at his job. Other stations had courted him but he liked working at KTVN and hadn’t gone for any other position, locally or out-of-state. But if the girl of his dreams wasn’t going to ever acknowledge his existence, maybe it was time to move on.

Or was that running away?

* * *

CHAPTER 2

Where’s Ambrosia?

I have no idea, Cass. It’s your week to watch her.

Cassidy laughed, moved the menu out of her way. Cute, Cat. What a cute little kitty-cat you are!

Stop with the name-calling. You’re making me gag.

Drink up then. Next round’s on me. How come you’re off early anyway?

Cat took a big sip of her frozen drink. She licked her lips and frowned. My last client didn’t show and it was too late to book anyone else for a facial. I hate that. Don’t they know time is money?

I’ve heard that. Cassidy moved the salt around the rim of her cold glass before raising it to her mouth. Killer margs, Cat.

Totally.

Hearing a hey across the bar, Cassidy and Cat looked over to watch a young woman bearing a striking resemblance to Cassidy bound over like she was trying out for the track team.

Hey! You started without me!

Jeez, Ammie. What’s with the sprinting? We’re not leaving yet so cool your jets.

Nice turn of phrase, sis. She plopped into the vacant chair at the table and looked around. Did it ever occur to you yahoos that I might be thirsty?

Yahoos? asked Cat. "Are you watching past episodes of Dukes of Hazard again?"

Yeah, Cassidy chuckled. Let’s go get us some of that moonshine from the feller down in the holler.

Not nice, guys, to make fun of me or anybody else.

So we can’t have any fun?

Ambrosia shook the dark hair from her face, smoothed it back and settled into her seat. And why, for heaven’s sake, are we always at the Fireside Lounge? This place must be fifty years old.

Old habits are hard to break? suggested Cat with a smile.

Can’t teach old dogs news tricks? Cassidy smirked at Cat.

Funny, Cass. Since no one here is over thirty, it’s safe to say there are no old dogs.

Maybe just horndogs then.

Ambrosia and Cat burst out laughing. A scantily clad cocktail waitress came over after seeing Cassidy’s raised hand.

How are we doing over here? she asked.

Another round of margaritas, please. She left with the order.

Who’s driving tonight?

Oh, I will. I have to get up early tomorrow anyway. Ambrosia reached for a napkin on the small table.

Why?

Job interview.

Cassidy thought about that a moment. What happened to the job you had?

Ambrosia looked annoyed. I had to quit! They wanted me to work during the dance competitions.

Cat looked up from her drink. Are you training for that already?

Listen. If I don’t work my butt off, I’ll never best my smooth sister over here. She’s quintessential grace and rhythm on the dance floor.

Thanks, Ammie, but you may not have any competition this year.

Why not?

Chet has an engagement scheduled smack dab in the middle of that time period. I’m thinking of skipping it this year.

Because Chet doesn’t like Latin music? sneered Ambrosia.

Just then the waitress came back with three fresh margaritas.

Saved by the drinks, Cat murmured in her glass.

Here you go, ladies. Anything else I can get for you?

No, thanks.

When she left, Cassidy looked over at her sister. What’s the matter with you?

You really want to know? When Cassidy nodded, Ambrosia’s face tightened. Then I’ll really tell you.

Lay it on me.

He’s not the guy for you, sis.

Are you freakin’ kidding me? How about that scumbag you just broke up with? He didn’t have a pot to piss in!

Now, now, girls. Play nice. Cat stirred her new drink and raised it for a sip.

Aren’t you just full of fabulous expressions tonight? And this isn’t about me, Cass, it’s about you, so don’t change the subject.

I’m not discussing Chet with you, Cass glanced at Cat, or you either.

What’d I do?

You’re agreeing with her!

I haven’t said a word!

I can hear what you’re thinking.

Cat rolled her eyes and stood. I’m going to the bathroom. You two resolve this issue before I get back or I’m leaving.

The women glared at one another for a few minutes, drinking their margaritas.

Cassidy broke the silence. What’s your problem with Chet?

I’ve told you.

Remind me.

He’s rich, handsome and has a great job. Ambrosia sat back in her chair.

Cassidy waited a moment before laughing out loud. OMG! I better break up with this detestable person tonight! He’s not to be trusted apparently.

I wasn’t finished.

Okay. Waiting for your pearls of wisdom.

Leaning forward, Ambrosia caught her sister’s eye. He doesn’t love you, Cass, and you know it.

Yeah, I guess not. He wines and dines me at five-star restaurants weekly and his family has invited me to family functions the last month or so. He really hates me, you’re right. Cassidy shook her head and played with the bottom of her glass.

Does he light up when you’re around? Or are you just a pretty thing on his arm?

Cassidy opened her mouth to respond but Ambrosia continued.

Does he worship the ground you walk on or is it just you worshipping him? What do his eyes tell you, his kiss?

Ammie…

No, let me finish. Have you ever looked at the meteorologist at your station? Brian McTaggart?

She blinked, surprised. Brian? Why would I look at him?

Because he’s crazy about you.

He’s never said word one to me about anything. She sat up. And how would you know? When was the last time you were at the station?

I was there last month and I watched him watching you.

What was I doing?

Scurrying around like my pet hamster, kissing up to Chet, dogging that god-awful news director.

Sherm Davies.

Whatever.

Cat rejoined them. She sat down and picked up her drink. Hey, my ice has melted. Looking from Cassidy to Ambrosia, she tried again. What’d I miss?

Cassidy turned to her. You’ll never believe this: Ammie thinks that Brian McTaggart is in love with me.

Who’s Brian McTaggart?

Exactly.

Cat pursed her lips, her eyes widened with excitement. Oh! I know! He’s that cute meteorologist who looks at you like he wants to lick you up one side and down the other.

A more stunned look on Cassidy was not possible. You’re kidding me. You knew that too?

She reached over to pat Cassidy’s hand. Honey, the station probably knows. You can only see Chet and Chet sees all the girls, not just you.

So why is he dating me and not someone else?

Who says he’s just dating you?

Tears sprang to Cassidy’s eyes. That was mean, Cat.

Sis, you have blinders on when it comes to Chet. He’s a flashy guy but not a forever guy. If you’re expecting love and marriage, you’re only fooling yourself.

Since when, Cassidy’s dark eyes narrowed, did you become Dear Abby? You’re a regular love guru, is that right?

She gulped the last of her drink and reached for purse, pulled out a few bills. I think I’m done here.

Cassidy…

Enough for tonight, ladies. Chet’s taking me to dinner and for the record? She glanced with disdain from Cat to Ambrosia. He loves me. With that, Cassidy walked briskly through the bar. Cat and Ambrosia watched her until she was out of sight.

I guess I should shut my mouth, huh? Ambrosia picked up her chilled glass.

No, she needed to hear it from someone. Cat shrugged. Whether it does any good or not, remains to be seen. After all…

What?

The truth hurts.

Got that right. Drink up.

* * *

CHAPTER 3

The place was jumpin’! Just one of the many things Cassidy loved about working at the station. Walking in this afternoon, a wall of television monitors provided robust color and sound to an already noisy atmosphere. She walked briskly past divided sections where people were hard at work on the evening broadcast. Eyes glued to computers, discussions on phones, small groups conferring about new details, the smell of stale coffee and refried beans, all the details making up the big picture of the active television station.

With the flood reaching its highest stage, everyone was coming early and staying late to provide the viewing public with the most up-to-date information they could find. Cassidy loved every minute of the non-stop activity and had just reached her desk when she happened to glance towards Brian McTaggart’s forecast center. She was startled to see Brian in intense conversation with several staffers, an excited look on his face. He usually worked alone, showing little emotion.

And it was a nice face, she allowed. His dark hair obviously needed combing but the scruff on his cheeks gave him a more dangerous look, a should-she-admit-it, sexier look.

Cassidy shook her head hard. What was the matter with her? Ambrosia’s suggestion had permeated her brain and influenced her in ways she didn’t like. Taking her time, Cassidy removed her raincoat and stuck her umbrella in a corner. She was able to watch Brian out of the corner of her eye until she saw Chet sauntering over to her, eyes twinkling. Gee, he was cute.

Hi ya, gorgeous. I didn’t have a chance to call you last night. Out with the folks, if you remember.

I don’t think you mentioned that to me. I thought we were having dinner. She reached up to run her fingers through his disheveled hair. And you’re a little messy this morning. Did you rush out the door without looking in a mirror?

He laughed, pushed her hand back. Yeah, early call from Davies to get back in the chair. Chet took out a comb to smooth his hair. Like I’m not doing my job. I’ve got the highest ratings of any anchor on TV.

Locally, she amended.

Sure, locally, but that could change.

What do you mean?

His smile was sultry. I’ve gotten an offer to audition for a national job. My agent is sending a tape of some of my best broadcasts.

Cassidy’s jaw dropped. You’re leaving Reno?

Chet glanced warily behind him. Not so loud. It’s all still up in the air. No decisions have been made.

When were you going to mention it to me? She stepped into her cubicle, sat down at her desk. You haven’t said anything about leaving the station.

He put his fingers to his lips. Shh…and you won’t hear me discuss it now either.

So let’s have dinner after the broadcast.

His eyes darted away. Can’t. Something just came up.

She turned on her computer, not