Summer Magic Read Free

security of a stable and loving family.

    Like Michael's .

    "Now for your bags," Michael said, leading the way toward the conveyor belt.   "One or two?   What do they look like?"

    "Two.   Two big ones."   She rattled off a description as she clutched her claim ticket.   But as one unfamiliar piece of luggage after the next paraded by, a strange feeling rose in the pit of her stomach.   Her suitcases weren't there.

    "I'm sorry, miss," the skycap said after she'd tipped him to investigate further.   "Apparently your luggage was rerouted on another flight."

    "Great!"   She gulped as visions of her bags landing in some exotic foreign airport flashed by her.

    "I checked at the desk for details," the man said. "There's another plane due in from LaGuardia in an hour, flight 801. If you'd like to wait, there's a good chance your bags will turn up then."

    Lisa sent Michael a questioning look.

    "Don't worry," he was quick to say.   "I've got plenty of time."

    "Are you sure?   Don't you have a show to hurry back for?"

    "Not today.   There's no matinee."

    They passed the next hour at the airport deli, sipping sodas and munching on bagels and cream cheese.   But after the next flight arrived without her bags, she had no choice but to fill out a missing luggage form.

    "I'll put down my brother's address in Jackson Hole and call him first chance I get," she said to Michael.   She heaved a sigh of frustration.   What was she going to do? Buying new clothes would put a sizable crimp in her budget, but she'd never admit that to Michael.   She'd learned at an early age to be as self-reliant as possible.

    "You brought a few things in your carry-on?" Michael asked.

    "Yes, thank goodness.   Enough for maybe a couple of days."

    "If push comes to shove," Michael said, "and your luggage never does show, maybe Estelle or Claudette can loan you some of their clothes."   He turned for a brief moment, his eyes roving over her approvingly.   "I think you and Estelle are about the same size."

    "Thanks, but that won't be necessary," she said, lifting her chin.   "I'll figure something out."

    At last they were speeding away from the airport in Michael's green Ford pickup.   The subtle masculine scent of his after-shave tugged at her composure.   No, Lisa. Get a hold of yourself.   You joined the circus to try to forget what's happened.   You don't need another man to mess up your life.

    "Estelle says to tell you that you're welcome to live with her in her trailer," Michael said.   "She's got plenty of room and would love the company.   The two of you should get along fine."

    "I'd like that.   At least for a while."   She flashed him a smile.

    Through the speakers in his CD player, the silky strains of a saxophone played.   The windshield wipers moved back and forth with a steady drone.   The streets glistened with moisture.   Off the freeway, she caught an occasional glimpse of palm trees sandwiched in between sections of shopping malls and business parks.

    "Your father said in his letter that my lodging would be provided," Lisa continued, "but I do intend to buy my own RV--maybe a small used trailer--just as soon as I can pay off some bills."   She bit her lip.   "That is, if I manage to stay."

    "You mean if you don't pass your probation?"

    "Uh-huh.   Dr. Woodstock told you what he'd written in my contract?"

    "Sure.   Doc put the same requirements on the other two assistants."

    "Oh."   She gulped again.   "So I'm not the first.   I wondered about that."

    "There were two.   In less than a year."   He waved a hand through the air.   "Here today.   Gone tomorrow."

    She wound a strand of hair around her finger as her uneasiness about the veterinarian skyrocketed.   "Last year when I was helping Dr. Woodstock, well...   How can I put it without sounding rude?   I got the impression he isn't exactly Mister Rogers."

    "You're right."   Michael chuckled.   "But in all fairness, let me say