Stubborn Love

By Janet Whitson

I previously published a steamy version of this story using my former pen name, Susan Craig. I have rewritten it as a closed-door romantic suspense. I like it better this way, and hope you will too!  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ormerod House
• Release date: Aug 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9781957628035

Janet Whitson

Janet Whitson is an author, nature-junkie, and believer in Happily Ever After. She loves the classics (Tolkien, Rowling, Lucas, TCM), fishing, outdoor photography, pizza, and collecting quotations. Her goal has always been to live a life she'd enjoy reading about. In pursuit of that she's been a mom, wife, color consultant, scientific researcher, university dean, and romance author among other things. She enjoys using her imagination to create stories of love and romance about women worth knowing and men worth loving... none of whom are perfect. Her characters are fictional, but the love she writes about is real.Janet lives on a lake in the beautiful state of Texas with her wickedly funny husband and their mixed breed dog, Lady.Visit Janet's website at www.janetwhitson.com and sign up for her mailing list!

Book preview

Chapter one

Autumn sunlight struck flung bits of straw, turning them into gold as the chestnut yearling reared, striking out with flailing hooves. Jameson Donovan slipped aside, letting the nylon lunge line slide through his hands, then stepped forward as the nervous colt settled all four feet on the smooth cement floor.

Take it easy, now. Jim gripped the horse’s halter, using his triceps to exert a steady downward pressure on the colt’s head, allowing movement, but not the free toss that would permit another attempt at rearing. Nervousness caused a thin sheen of sweat on the chestnut’s neck, and Jim stroked it away, soothing with the touch of his hand and gentle murmurs, giving the colt time to recognize and accept both mastery and gentleness.

That’s right, boy.

I’ll steady him for you. Hector Sanderson moved up, his gnarled hand taking a firm grip on the halter, as Jim bent to examine the horse’s foreleg. If everything checked out, the colt would return to pasture with the other yearlings. He ran practiced hands over the leg, testing tendons and bone.

No tenderness, no heat. Jim straightened and stroked the solid withers, appreciating smooth coat over supple muscle, feeling in tune with the warmth of life under his hand. He drew in the mix of scents that said stable—horse, hay, and an underlying thread of something earthier. He looks sound, Hector.

Glad to hear it, Doc. Thanks for stopping by.

Jim nodded at the older man and glanced at the lengthening shadows near the open stable door. Hector’s place had been the last stop in a high-mileage day. Happy to do it, Hector. With a wave of his hand, Jim crossed to the Ram four by four parked in the stable yard. He opened the lid of a Porta-Vet storage unit snugged just behind the cab and dropped in his examination kit. Time to head back to the loft for some food, a beer, and maybe there’d be a game on television worth watching. With a quick turn of the key, the truck’s engine roared to life, and Jim pointed the Ram towards town.

Approaching a fork in the road, his mind moved to Sally. Thinking of her, warmth crawled under his skin. The left fork would take him home a little faster, leading through fields and hills until just outside of town. But if he swung right, he’d pass the animal shelter, and Sally’s house. He could stop by on his way home, invite Sal and her son to get a bite to eat with him. Maybe she was finally over Trent…

Yeah, right, that’s likely. You stupid sap.

Jim ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. Why did he do this to himself? Deciding to be the young widow’s friend was, without a doubt, the stupidest thing he’d ever done. Just being in the same room with her made his teeth ache with want.

If he was smart, he’d give it up and stay away. Swing left. Tools in the Porta-Vet rattled as the truck hit a depression in the well-worn road. Who was he kidding?

He knew he would stop by.

Standing in the doorway of the animal shelter, Sally Johnston, manager of Man’s Best Friend, watched Gretchen Maxwell slide her daughter’s wheelchair into the trunk, then waved goodbye as the car pulled away. She smiled as she saw the girl’s arm slide around the neck of a shaggy-coated dog sitting beside her on the back seat.

Hey, Sal, that’s a fine match.

Turning, Sally saw Ramon Hernandez, one of the college volunteers. Yeah, I think so too. You know, one of the best things about working here is finding just the right dog for a family to adopt. I’ll miss Dusty though. He’s a sweetheart.

Ramon smiled at her. You miss them all when they go.

I know. Sally shrugged, glancing at the clock behind the reception counter. Time to close up. She looked at Ramon. You can take off, if you like. I’m good.

Thanks, I think I will. He walked toward his car, the only one remaining in the lot. See you.

Sally waved a hand in reply, then stepped behind the counter and shut down her computer. There were still dogs to bring in from the outdoor paddock. She grabbed a jacket and headed out the back door of the converted ranch-style house.

Across the meadow sat her home, on property abutting the shelter’s land. Light streamed from the kitchen window. She laughed to herself and shook her head. The lights were probably on in the hallway, her son’s room and the bathroom, too—Tyler favored the abundant use of electricity. Typical boy. She shrugged away an undercurrent of sadness.

The two of them were doing just fine. Tyler didn’t lack male role models. Her best friend’s husband, Logan, and Jim Donovan, the leader of Tyler’s Trailblazer troop, saw to that. For herself, she’d made peace with her role as a single mom. She and Tyler didn’t need a third person in their family.

Turning back to the paddock gate, she called the dogs into the common run leading to the kennel wing, where she returned each to his own pen and began closing down for the night. The volunteers had given all the shelter’s tenants fresh water, but this last group still needed to be fed. By the time she finished distributing kibble, shadows stretched long across the yard. Rolling the portable food bin back into place, she used her foot to flip the locks on the rear wheels, and leaned against the windowsill to watch the pale October sun set.

When the last ray of light had vanished, she straightened. Quiet melancholy filled her heart… a comfortable sadness, appropriate for a fading autumn day with winter already in sight. Content, she turned back toward the unlit office at the far end of the wing.

A soft, unexpected sound came from the empty room.

Sally froze. Her hand reached to touch the wall, steadying her, and she moved forward in the darkness, one cautious step at a time, listening.

Music… So soft she had to strain to identify it. So unexpected that recognition fisted her stomach and stopped her in place with a hand on her heart. She’d thought she was alone. Cautious, but not yet afraid, she went on toward the soft, mournful wail of a solitary bagpipe. If a friend had come, why sit in the dark? Her fingertips groped for the wall plate, still a few steps ahead. Reaching it, she took a tight breath, then flooded the office with light.

Nothing moved. The empty lobby stared back at her, its windows black.

The funeral dirge continued, coming from her computer—the computer she’d shut down before bringing the dogs in for their food.

Heart pounding and poised to flee if the need arose, she checked the area, peering down the back hallway and looking behind and beneath the counter enclosing the reception desk. She saw no one. The computer monitor blinked. Placing an unsteady hand on the edge of the desk, she lowered herself into a chair to read the words that appeared like the dull ache of happiness lost, then dissolved into darkness: Semper fi.

Sally stared at the screen, a knife-edge of pain in her chest holding her motionless.

Trent.

As her eyes watched the words appear and fade on the screen, she remembered his hard, handsome face, the diamond black eyes, and rough shadow of beard on his jaw. The pain of loss, which had dimmed over the years, hit her with fresh force, resurrected by the music and the words. Tears ran unheeded down her cheeks.

Who would do this? Who would be so cruel?

The headlights of Jim’s truck bounced off Sally’s neat brick house. Tyler must be home—light shone from every window. Pulling into the driveway, Jim shook his head and straightened his shoulders, running a hand over his hair. Here he was again.

Stupid sap.

Looking across the meadow adjoining Sally’s house, Jim saw the shadowy outline of the animal shelter and the pine-covered ridge beyond. A beautiful crescent moon rose behind the trees. In the darkened shelter, a light flicked on, catching his attention. Curious, he left the truck in the driveway and strode across the meadow in the crisp twilight.

What was going on? Sally should be home already; the shelter had been closed for almost an hour. Maybe she had a sick animal on her hands. Glad that, as vet-on-call, he had keys to the place, he unlocked the outer door and turned to walk along the entryway to the shelter itself.

With a crash that rattled the glass in its upper half, the door to the shelter lobby banged open.

What the heck?

Sally flew down the entry way toward him, her beautiful face so contorted with grief he barely recognized her. Jim. Thank God it’s you.

She threw herself against his chest, and his head reared back even as his arms moved to hold her close. Then he took her by the shoulders and stepped back to look at her in astonishment, shocked by the pain and tears on her face. In all the years he’d known her, he’d never seen her cry.

Now she sobbed, and her face was white. Fear for her struck his heart like a blade of ice. Sally! What’s wrong? What’s happened?

She shook her head, struggling to speak as her face crumpled again. Trent… Trent…

He stared at her for a second, then pulled her into his arms and held her close. What on earth had happened? His heart rate, which had sped up when the door crashed open, slowed, but didn’t return to normal. Not with her in his arms. With a gentle touch, he stroked her hair, murmuring comfort and breathing in her scent—a heady mixture of dog, lilac and woman. He drank in the feel of her, the way she clung, needing him, at least for these few minutes.

It was just his luck. The woman who haunted his dreams was wrapped in his arms, and she was crying for another man.

Chapter two

Jim squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He’d had plenty of practice controlling his feelings for Sally. Even now, his will built an impenetrable wall of control, but it was still torture to hold her like this and give no sign of desire.

Gradually, her sobbing stopped, the tears slowed, and all too soon she was stepping away from him—out of his arms to stand on her own. Jim let her go, stifling a sigh. She was a strong woman, maybe too strong.

I’m sorry, she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. She took a deep, trembling breath. I shouldn’t have flown at you like that.

What happened? He placed a hand on her arm.

Listen—you’ll hear it.

Jim hadn’t paid any attention to the music. Now he tuned in and heard the wail of the funeral dirge. He felt a dull weight in the pit of his stomach. Why are you—?

Not me. Somebody messed with the computer. Look at the screen.

Sally stayed in the entryway, as if unwilling to re-enter the office. So Jim walked over and looked at the monitor, reading the dark gold words that appeared and faded into black.

Semper fi. Always faithful—the motto of the United States Marine Corps.

Why would anyone do that?

I don’t know. Her arms wrapped around her waist. A tasteless prank?

No. Jim rocked his head from side to side. Sally, no one who knows you would joke about your husband’s funeral. He stopped, not wanting to say what had leapt to mind, and prevaricated. It’s more likely some kind of computer virus. I can drop the machine by Phil’s and have him check it out on Monday—you won’t need it before then, will you?

Sally hesitated. No, we’ll be fine. One day of paperwork by hand won’t kill anyone. She took another steadying breath. Thanks, Jim. But get him to do it as quick as possible. I have a paper to write for my online course. She took another deep breath, not shaky this time, and her voice was almost light. So. How is it you happened to be here to rescue me?

Jim picked up the laptop, recognizing the let’s-move-on tone of Sally’s voice. He would do that, for now, since she wanted it. I was on my way home from Hector Sanford’s, thinking about dinner. When I saw the lights at your place, I thought I’d see if you and Tyler wanted to grab a pizza. Then a light came on in here, so I walked over. He frowned into Sally’s green eyes. Sally, are you sure you’re okay?

Yeah, I’m fine. She shook her head and her lips pressed tight together. It just hit me hard, you know? It’s so weird. She crossed her arms and shuddered.

Well, I’ll get it fixed for you Monday. So how about pizza? You and Tyler interested?

Sally gave a small laugh. You and pizza—you’re as bad as Tyler. Sure, we’re interested. Sounds like fun. Her face cleared as she grabbed her parka from a hook by the door. Let’s go get him, and I want to change. Fifteen minutes.

Back at her house, Sally left Tyler and Jim in the living room and grabbed a quick shower. Getting in and out in record time was no problem. Her heart was still bumping along at time-and-a-half after her scare in the shelter.

As manager of Man’s Best Friend, closing up as she had today was routine. She loved the animals and her job, finding satisfaction even in the long hours. But tonight, she’d been afraid.

She shuddered again as she toweled herself dry. Her usual self-confidence had deserted her, despite her height and self-defense training. She’d never before been quite so glad to see Jim… but his attempted explanation was ludicrous.

Computer virus, my foot.

She snorted softly. Phil at CompuCraft wouldn’t find any virus.

Let Jim think the incident had been random, but she knew better. She pulled on a pair of skinny jeans. Someone wanted to remind her of Trent… as if she ever forgot him.

The last thing I need is someone pushing me to remember more. It was five years now since his death, and she’d thought she had finished working through the loss. Apparently not so much as she hoped.

From the other side of her bedroom door came the sound of Tyler’s laughter, and the bass rumble of Jim’s voice. A sudden desperate wish that life could be simple had her blinking hard for a moment, but then determination slid like steel up her spine as she raised her head and once again set pain aside. She smoothed lilac-scented moisturizer over her arms, then layered it with the fresh dryer-sheet scent of fabric softener that clung to her snug long-sleeved sweater. It’s a blessing that Jim has enough tact to realize I don’t want to discuss it.

Mom, are you ready yet?

She would set it behind her. Ignore it, she decided as she finger-combed her hair.

Mom, I’m hungry!

She pulled open the door and stepped out. Right. Let’s go, then. Pizza would make a good diversion. And when Jim and Tyler hit the arcade games, she’d have a chance to think.

At the restaurant, Tyler powered his way through three slices of pepperoni pizza and rushed off to play video games with the handful of quarters he’d wheedled out of his mom. Jim had turned down a challenge to match the boy at BattleQuest… this time. He wanted to talk to Sally.

Looking at her now, no one would ever guess she’d had a shock earlier in the evening. Her streaked blonde hair was short and fashionably tousled. In close-fitting jeans and the narrow-ribbed sweater, her body was slim and athletic. She looked like a college kid.

Jim leaned back for a minute and let his gaze roam over her face. The smooth skin was free of makeup, but thin black eyeliner accented her mascara. As she watched Tyler shove quarters into the machine across the room, she smiled and her eyes sparkled.

He remembered the day they’d first met—three years ago. As the new vet in town, he’d stopped by the private animal shelter to introduce himself. Warmth filled his gut, as he recalled walking up to the front counter and having six foot of gorgeous woman stand to greet him. She’d dropped him with one friendly look from those sharp green eyes. It hadn’t taken him five minutes to ask her out, but she’d turned him down flat.

I appreciate the thought, she’d said, but I lost my husband not long ago and my son and I aren’t quite ready to move on yet.

He’d backed off, but he’d also asked around. ‘Not long ago’ had been a full two years earlier. Plenty long ago, to his mind, but it was true the circumstances had been tragic. Her husband Trent, a Marine returning to Camp Pendleton from the Middle East, had been killed by a terrorist’s bomb. As the story had been told to Jim, the officer arriving to tell her of Trent’s death had caught her and five-year-old Tyler getting ready to go welcome him home.

Sally had set her own grief aside to be strong for her son. She’d moved home to Pennsylvania and started building a new life. He glanced over at the boy, who was fiercely battling aliens of some kind. He was a great kid. She’d done well by him, but maybe that was why it was taking her so long to let go.

Becoming Sally’s friend had been a deliberate choice on his part—he’d wanted to give her the time and space she needed. But now, more than ever, he could see it had been a huge, stupid mistake. She’d been devastated tonight.

And I’m no closer to where I want to be than I was at the start.

Jim closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his forehead.

The movement caught Sally’s eye. Long day?

What? He pulled his thoughts back to the present. Oh, yeah. There’s more work here than one man can handle, but that problem at least is solved. I’ve taken on a partner.

A partner?

A guy named Daniel Smith. Graduated top of his class from vet school. I was surprised to get his application—he could have gone anywhere.

Why would he come here? Sally pushed the last slice of pizza toward Jim. I mean, Cedar Hill’s a great place, but it’s not exactly the Mecca of veterinary medicine.

Don’t know. Jim took a bite of pizza. It was still warm enough that a single bite spread the spicy flavor across his tongue. Smith’s pretty quiet.

So this is a done deal?

He shook his head. We’ve agreed to a six month trial period. If everything works out, he’ll buy into the practice when that time’s up. If not—no harm, no foul. And I’ll find somebody else.

When will he get here?

He’s here already. Came about a week and a half ago. He found a place to stay, and he’s getting settled in—he’ll start work next week. Jim shifted to lean back in his seat. I’ll bring him by and introduce him to you. More concerned about her than about the new vet, he looked at Sally. Are you going to be okay tonight, Sal? You were pretty upset earlier.

Yeah, I’ll be fine. I guess it was bad luck—that stunt with the computer hitting a nerve the way it did. It was a busy day today, and I was worn out. I’m glad you suggested pizza. She smiled at him. Tired as I was, Tyler would have had to settle for hot dogs and microwave popcorn if we hadn’t come here. Sally laughed and shook her head. Not that he minds hot dogs and popcorn—not a fussy eater at all.

Jim grinned back. It’s the age. There’s not a fussy eater in the whole Trailblazer troop. You wouldn’t believe the combinations I’ve seen those guys put together when we go camping. Of course, it does cover any slip-ups I make in the meal-planning department.

Don’t play pathetic with me. You do a great job as Head Trailblazer and they’re lucky to have you. She studied him for a moment, then spoke in a quieter voice. I’m lucky to have you, too. You’re a wonderful friend, Jim. You always seem to be there when I need you.

He smiled and nodded his thanks. Friend. Great. His eyes shifted to look down at the table. Will she ever realize I’m ready to be a lot more than that?

Chapter three

N o virus. You’re sure, Phil?

Phil Cavuto, owner and operator of CompuCraft, nodded at Jim from behind his cluttered desk in the even more cluttered storefront. Computers and computer components littered every available surface. How the kid could find anything in his tiny shop was beyond Jim—but he did good work at a reasonable price, so no one quibbled about how he kept his workspace.

Absolutely, Dr. Donovan. His voice was high for a man, and nasal. I checked everything, everywhere. The shelter’s laptop is clean. I found the file responsible. It was a simple slide show loop—could have played on ninety-eight percent of the laptops out there. All someone would have to do is copy the file onto this machine from a USB drive. It’d take less than a minute, including booting up the computer. If you don’t want anyone to be able to do it again, you should put a password on. There’s no log-in security at all right now.

Yes, I’ll tell Sally you said to do that. Did you delete the file?

No, but I can. It’s this one, see?

Jim moved to stand behind the younger man’s shoulder.

You’re sure you want it gone? Phil tilted his head backwards, causing his sparse brown hair to flop away from his high forehead. He looked at Jim through his oversized black-framed eyeglasses.

Would keeping it help me find out who stuck it in there?

No way that I can see.

Then get rid of it.

Phil’s narrow fingers flew over the keyboard. Okay, done. Anything else I can do for you today?

No. Thanks, Phil. What do I owe you?

Not a thing, Doc. Mrs. Carmichael called and said to bill it to the shelter.

She would. The shelter was Diana Carmichael’s private project, and in financial matters, she was a stickler. He’d have enjoyed feeling he was doing something to help Sally, but there was no point in getting into a money argument with her boss.

All right then, I’m on my way. Leaving the smell of plastic behind, he stepped out into the crisp air of a New England autumn day.

As he walked past the narrow brick stores with their high false fronts, Jim’s thoughts raced ahead. Saturday night, Sally had thought she was alone when she turned the computer off. But someone else turned it back on, downloaded the file and set the program running. Did the intruder leave then, or did he hide in the building, waiting for Sally to come and investigate? Jim’s jaw clenched at the thought of someone enjoying her pain. Thank God I saw that light.

Too bad it couldn’t really be a virus. Too bad I have to tell her. Saturday night hadn’t been random.

Jim shook his head as he approached his truck, parked outside Gino’s Grill, where he’d had lunch. There would be more trouble to come—he knew the pattern. During his own stint in the Corps, he’d worked counter-terrorism with an elite Special Operations Capable unit. Saturday night’s incident had been deliberate cruelty, and despite the lack of violence, it reminded him of things he’d rather forget.

Setting the laptop on the passenger seat, he fastened his seatbelt and pulled the truck onto the road. He might be reading more into the incident than was there.

He didn’t care.

Someone was messing with Sally, and he planned to make sure she was protected, with or without her cooperation.

Jim lifted a hand to massage the back of his neck. There was no point in putting it off. He’d return the computer right away and they would talk. And dear God, please wake the woman up soon—my patience is running out.

Sally’s home, a brick ranch-style house built in the early sixties, sat on an acre and a half lot, more deep than wide, bounded by the animal shelter on the east and a hill to the north. A creek ran along the base of the hill, heading toward the road that marked the property’s western boundary. Jim liked the way Sally had planted shrub and trees to cluster around the lean, low structure. Even now, when trees in the front yard had dropped their leaves and stood bare, seed pods and winter-pale grasses still swayed against a backdrop of dark green spruce, tying the house to the land. He pulled his truck all the way up the concrete driveway and parked. Grabbing the laptop, he stepped up onto the porch to ring the bell.

The door jerked open before he touched the button. Sally stood there, her green eyes wide and frightened, and her mouth trembling as if she was about to cry. She reached toward him.

He stepped forward to take her in his arms and comfort