Straight To His Heart Read online

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Marina Adair. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original St. Helena Vineyard Series remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Marina Adair, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Dear Readers,

  Welcome to the St. Helena Vineyard’s Kindle World, where romance is waiting to be uncorked and authors from around the globe are invited to share their own stories of love and happily ever after. Set in the heart of wine country, this quaint town and its cast of quirky characters were the inspiration behind my St Helena Vineyard series, and the Hallmark Channel movie, AUTUMN IN THE VINEYARD. I want to thank these incredible authors for spending time in St. Helena, and all of you readers who are adventurous enough to take the journey with us.

  I hope you enjoy your time here as much as we have.

  Warmly,

  Marina Adair

  STRAIGHT TO HIS HEART

  Anna J Stewart

  For Marina Adair

  For having faith in me.

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, thank you to Marina Adair. I’m so honored to be a part of your world.

  Shout out to Reina Torres for withstanding my umpteen questions and semi-panic attacks.

  Thank you to Melinda Curtis whose critical eye and honesty is always appreciated.

  Thanks, Cari Lynn Webb, for reminding me the story comes first.

  Special shout out to Gale Sroelov and Debbie Lyon for the extra eyes.

  Lastly, to all my readers and reviewers: you’re more appreciated than you will ever know.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter One

  “I’m sorry.” Flynn Lafferty scrubbed tired hands down his whisker-roughened face before he looked back at his mother’s doctor. It had taken eleven hours, three plane changes, and more than half the coffee supply of the western hemisphere to get him to St. Helena, California from New York. He’d survived twin toddlers in the row behind him, had turbulence dump not one, but two glasses of wine in his jean-clad lap, and waited an hour for luggage that decided to take a vacation to the Bahamas without him. Now he was being told, by a doctor who looked as if he should be figuring out his high school locker combination, that his one-time level-headed retired school teacher of a mother had taken on a second career as a daredevil. “My mother broke her leg doing what again?”

  “Skydiving.” Dr. Waverly ducked his head and scribbled something on Eileen Lafferty’s chart, but not before Flynn caught the amused grin on his tan face. “It’s her ankle actually, but the surgery went well. And it didn’t happen during the jump exactly. I’ll let her explain. Your sister was helping her get settled into her room last I checked, but you should be able to see her in a few minutes.”

  Dr. Waverly clapped the metal chart shut and led the way, his white lab coat billowing behind him like some super hero’s cape.

  Flynn let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding until now. The surgery had gone well. Finally, some news that hadn’t left his guts tied in knots. The buzzing in Flynn’s ears hadn’t stopped since Nissa had called him yesterday morning to fill him in on their mother’s latest adventure; an info dump that ended with his older sister pleading with him to come out to California ASAP as she herself was scheduled to leave on a photography expedition in South America first thing in the morning.

  With their oldest brother Quaid still serving in the Middle East and the youngest Lafferty offspring Trevor being less than reliable for anything important, Flynn understood Nissa’s last minute panic. She’d made arrangements weeks ago to leave her two kids with their parents so she could restart the career that had been sidelined first by her marriage, then her divorce. After years of Flynn being a long-distance sounding board, it hadn’t taken much prodding to convince him it was time to lift some of the burden off his sister’s shoulders. And maybe, finally, make some amends.

  In the meantime, he needed to process the fact that sometime in the last three years his practical-minded family’s mantra had changed from “Don’t Make Waves” to “Go Big or Go Home”. His parents’ retirement should have been a calming of the waters for all of them. Instead Eileen and Brady Lafferty had thrown everything—including their life’s savings—up into the air and moved to wine country to open a restaurant, something Flynn had, if at least inwardly, objected to.

  Flynn took advantage of the Dr.’s detour to the nurse’s station to stop at the coffee cart for some hot, liquid energy. He sipped and sighed as the caffeine surged through his system. He wasn’t surprised to find St. Helena hospital was on the small side, but where he’d normally find stark whites and blinding lights, muted earth tones gave a warm, almost comfortable feel to the three story structure. There certainly wasn’t the hustle and bustle of the big city centers he was used to back in New York. Not that he spent a lot of time in hospitals, but he didn’t recall seeing signs leading to a children’s play room and daycare center in the big city. Nor did he see the usual “do not leave your children unattended” signs stuck between rooms. In fact, there was almost a tranquil atmosphere about the place, punctuated by the sounds of beeping technology, overloud TVs, and the quiet reassurances of dedicated nurses and orderlies.

  Lulled into an unexpected calm, Flynn found his gaze pulled toward a raven haired, curvaceous woman speaking with the doctor. Thick, lush curls brushed all the way to her waist as she pushed a battered, wheeled suitcase back and forth in what Flynn suspected was a nervous habit. From this angle, he could see her profile, along with the hint of an open, eye-crinkling smile stretching her lips. His phone vibrated in his back pocket. Blinking gritty eyes, he pulled it free and looked at the screen.

  Jocelyn again. He tapped it to voice mail. His business partners were chomping at the bit to sign on for a job that would launch their consulting company into the big time. As proud as Flynn was of their accomplishments, the idea of spending up to six months in Japan working in house at Takiro Enterprises left him nauseated. Sure it would mean more money. A lot more money. But if they took advantage of the opportunity it also meant hiring additional employees, locating larger yet still affordable office space (was that even possible in New York?), and working pretty much around the clock for the foreseeable future.

  Guilt poked at his gut as he spotted a coffee stand and grabbed a cup. He should be excited. Instead, all he could think about, other than the fact his mother had taken to throwing herself out of aircraft, was how he longed for the days of struggle when fresh out of college, he and his friends had been hungry for success. Determined and blinded by the stars in their eyes. He had the sneaking suspicion staying on top of their game would be even tougher than the climb to the top.

  Flynn leaned back, steaming coffee in hand to check on the room number just as a small splash of color exploded around the corner.

  “Jackson Christopher, you come back here!”

  A round, grinning toddler wobbled as fast as his chubby little legs would carry him, arms out to his sides, either to help him take off or keep him on his feet. The kid squealed, looked over his shoulder and picked up speed. Straight toward an oversized cardiology cart being wheeled down the hall.

  Hot coffee spilled over Flynn’s fingers as he dropped the cup and dived toward the r
unaway baby. He locked his hands around the little guy’s waist, lifted him, and spun them out of the cart’s path. With a bit too much speed, however. He felt himself falling and pivoted to pull the child into his chest. Covering the boy’s head with his hand, he slammed down back first onto the linoleum floor.

  He laid there, stunned, hands dropping to his side. His ears rang loud enough to block out the ensuing commotion of nurses rushing to help. When he pushed himself up on his elbows, he found the little guy staring down at him, his oversized blue eyes filling with tears as his chin wobbled. “Hey, now, you’re okay. Don’t cry.” But it was too late. The boy opened his mouth and let out a howl that sounded like a car alarm.

  “I haven’t seen a catch like that since I played ball in college.” The voice that broke through the crowd of medical professionals was the same as the one who had called little Jackson’s name moments before. Flynn looked up into the panicked expression of a young man as he raced over. “I swear he was with me one second and the next…” he trailed off as he scooped his son into his arms and staved off the worst of the crying while apologizing profusely. “Thank you so much.” Flynn waved off everyone’s help to stand and the father hurried off, murmuring to the little boy as cartoon birds circled Flynn’s skull.

  “No problem.” Flynn stayed where he was, arms braced on his knees and wondered whether it was worth the effort to stand up. At least he was awake now. He pushed to his feet, turned, and toppled face first to the floor again.

  Ugh.

  He looked down and found the oversized suitcase he’d noticed earlier trapped under him.

  “Oh, no! Oh, I’m so sorry!”

  Flynn sighed. The floor was cool against his cheek, probably because his face had gone fire hot with embarrassment. He really needed a do over for today.

  The woman who had been standing at the nurse’s station with Dr. Waverly bent down to extricate her bag from beneath him. She shoved the bag away and held out her hand when he rolled over. “Are you all right?” She gripped him tight and helped him stand.

  “I’m great.” No good deed goes unpunished. By the time he stood, the nurses, including the one with the crash cart were back to work. He brushed his hands down his chest in a futile effort to regain his dignity. The woman’s fingers tightened around his arm. Warmth prickled his skin, almost as if she was branding him.

  “Are you sure?” Her calm, soothing voice reminded him of the Irish Whiskey his father had toasted him with on his twenty-first birthday. Flynn blinked again. Those eyes of hers…he never knew that particular shade of blue—a turquoise leaning heavily toward blue—was even possible. Combined with those riotous curls and heaven-sent smile, she was, in a word, stunning.

  “You look a bit shell-shocked.” She moved in and it was then he could smell vanilla topped with the unexpected scent of…paint? She squeezed her hand gently, inclined her head so that her hair spilled like thick black silk over the yellow t-shirt she wore.

  “I'm fine.” He sounded like a cartoon mouse that had sucked in too much helium. He cleared his throat, tried to get his bearings and remember what room Dr. Waverly had disappeared into. “Distracted. Ah, sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He glanced down at the bag beside her. “I hope I didn’t damage anything.”

  “I should have been keeping a closer eye on this thing.” She released him and shoved her suitcase behind her after which she retrieved a pile of napkins from the coffee stand. “You don’t look like a patient so you must be visiting someone.”

  “My mother.” He cleaned up as well as he could. “She was admitted yesterday. Took me a while to get here from New York. Jet lag doesn’t even begin to describe it.” Seemed as good an excuse as any to explain his babbling. He looked for a badge, anything that might clue him into who she was and what she was doing here, but near as he could tell, she wasn't an employee. He saw a flash of white through the window of room eight seconds before Dr. Waverly stepped out and nodded to him before he headed into the next room.

  “Ah, that makes sense.” Her smile returned. “How is she doing?”

  “I’m about to find out. But I’m told she’s fine,” Flynn echoed Dr. Waverly’s sentiments as he backed toward his mother’s room. “I, on the other hand, am extremely confused. I don’t suppose you could tell me…” He started to back away, froze, and to be safe, glanced behind him. He’d never been so relieved to find a clear path. “Why a sixty year old woman felt the need to go skydiving?”

  “I couldn’t say.” The woman’s eyebrow arched in a way that added a hint of mystery and intrigue. “But it seems a good way to remind herself she’s still alive. A kind of rebooting if you will. I wouldn’t hold it against her. You should get in there and I have some deliveries to make.” She stepped back and, after a quick gesture exchange with the nurse closest to her, she retrieved her bag. “Don’t be too hard on her. If anything, she’s given you all a great story for your family get-togethers.” With a final grin, she disappeared down the hall and around the corner.

  Flynn shook his head both to clear it and prove to himself it was still attached to his body.

  Whatever energy he still possessed faded at the familiar, no-nonsense female voice that had commanded his life for the past thirty-one years. It had been longer than he cared to admit since he’d seen his family in person. Time might heal some wounds, but not always, and Flynn hadn’t left California—or his family—under the best of circumstances. The words that had passed between him and his brother and parents years before didn’t seem to matter at the moment. Still, Flynn took a breath deep enough to allow for an ocean dive.

  Hands shoved deep in the pocket of his jeans, the collar of his T-shirt tightened as he stepped inside. Four pairs of eyes landed on him with the force of the jetliner he’d stumbled off of hours before.

  “About time.” His sister Nissa said with that nerve wracking, albeit it relieved, stare of hers.

  “I was delayed by a runaway toddler.” Among other things. Flynn glanced back out the door down the hall where the woman had gone and wondered if she was visiting family, a friend…a husband? He focused his attention back on his mother, who looked as if she was holding court rather than recovering from surgery.

  “There’s my boy!” Eileen’s shamrock green eyes widened and brightened beneath the silver streaked red hair she normally wore coiled around her head.

  She looked as sturdy as she had the last time he’d seen her. He swallowed hard. It hadn’t really been that long, had it? They'd had video calls and plenty of email exchanges yet somehow he'd imagined his mother had somehow turned frail.

  “Nissa told me she’d called you.” His mother held out her hand which he took immediately. “You didn’t have to come all the way out here.”

  “Of course I did.” Flynn glanced at his older sister who was sitting with her feet propped up on the foot of Eileen’s bed. Life in San Francisco clearly agreed with her, aside from the mother-induced tension around her dark green eyes. He bent down to kiss his mother’s cheek.

  Eileen Lafferty lifted her free hand, brushed her fingers down his cheek in that way she’d always done, a silent gesture telling him everything was going to be okay. Something inside of him sagged, loosened. And relaxed.

  His mother was all right.

  “Caley, Wyatt, you remember your Uncle Flynn?” Nissa sat up and herded her children in front of her.

  “Uh-huh.” Six year old Caley gave him a shy if not suspicious smile and reminded Flynn of her mother at that age. The bouncy blonde curls and pink cheeks made her look like a little doll. “Hi.”

  “Hello yourself.” The uncertainty on the kids’ faces fed his insecurity. He should be better at this; they should trust him, not look as if he was going to take off at any second like their father had last year. “Wyatt? Is that you?” Flynn leaned over to the little four-year old clutching one of Trevor’s old G.I. Joe dolls. “You’re so big!”

  “Uh-huh.” Wyatt echoed his sister’s sentiments with a bit mo
re excitement and nodded hard enough to make his dark curls bounce around his round face. He held up five fingers then bent his pinky in half. “Mama says I’m this big.”

  “Trixie didn’t come with you?” Nissa blinked overly innocent eyes at him.

  “Her name is Tracey,” Flynn resisted the urge to laugh. Nissa had made it clear she wasn’t a fan of his girlfriend when the two women had met last year during Nissa’s brief stopover in New York. “And we aren’t seeing each other any more.”

  “What a shame.” Nissa’s grin went so wide he could see her back teeth.

  “Nissa.” Eileen turned sympathetic eyes on Flynn. “I’m very sorry to hear that, Flynn.”

  “Don’t be,” Flynn assured her “How about you tell me what happened?” He did his best to appear stern, but the truth was he couldn’t be angry given how badly things could have turned out. “When you went skydiving.”

  “Actually.” Eileen shifted on the thin mattress, not an easy feat given her left foot was in a cast that would have made Frankenstein’s monster proud. “I made the jump just fine. You should try it sometime, Flynn. I’m telling you, there’s nothing like it. The wind in your face, the way you’re just falling and floating your way back to earth. And the man they strapped me to! Heaven help me, if I wasn’t a happily married woman—”

  Flynn’s stomach lurched. “Don’t need the play by play. If you weren’t hurt on the jump—”

  “She broke her ankle climbing into my SUV for the drive home,” Nissa interrupted. “You know that floorboard thing that comes out to step on? She missed.” She made a motion with her hands like a twig snapping.

  “Are they going to transfer you to a rehabilitation facility?” Flynn asked. “Do they even have one?”