Calling All Hearts

Scottie McArdle had a police officer's pedigree. The blue was in her blood, her devotion was to the badge. There was nothing else in her life but the People of New York City, until the day she found herself in the line of a different kind of duty; meeting a man who wanted her to protect him from himself, to serve his need not to die alone. In exchange she would have wealth, power, children, but no love. Can she give up all...for one?

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Once again, Emjae Edwards has written a story that transports the reader into the minds, hearts, and locales of the characters. When you have finished 'Learning to be Irish', don't be surprised if you speak with a brogue (the accent, not the shoe) and bleed shamrocks. More Books Please, Amazon reader

Emjae Edwards takes us for a very exciting ride as we follow Garnet Steele from one coast to the other, trying to get her life back together after her first love goes very wrong. Highly recommended. Kristie Leigh Maguire, Romance Author

I really liked this story. This is the second book I've read by this author and what can I say but she is amazing at writing. Nicky, Amazon reader

Every once in a while Emjae amazes us with a turn of phrase that stuns us. We have to go back and read it again. For example: "Johnny Mathis' Chances Are melted out of the speaker." Barbara Benson, Amazon reader

Calling All Hearts

Written by

Emjae Edwards

Smashwords Edition

Published by

Inknbeans Press

©2013

Cover: Emjae Edwards

© December 2010

© September 2013 Emjae Edwards

and Inknbeans Press

All rights reserved

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person with whom you share it. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For my favourite LEO, even if he is a Taurus

Chapter One

Scottie thought the day was never going to end. She usually didn’t mind the chaos of her too small, too understaffed, too underfunded precinct in the middle of, to her mind, the greatest city in the world. It was never dull, especially for the young officer who wore two caps; as a desk clerk and as the assistant to the Chief. Her days were full and usually passed far too quickly for her to feel she got everything done to her satisfaction. That day was different.

That Thursday, that was the day When Everything Began. For the rest of her life, she would regard that day in initial caps, like the beginning of a children’s story; for good or for bad, it was her Once Upon A Time. She had dealt with everything from a missing and more than likely runaway teenager to a Shih Tzu which did not return from its evening constitutional. In the process of filing complaints and taking statements, Scottie had spent the day listening to more than a dozen different stories – all sad, for no one ever came into a police station to tell good news. A man arrested for burglarizing a car had to tell her about his recent marital problems; the distraught father of the missing teen had ulcers and the owner of the missing puppy had a husband dying of cancer.

Scottie dutifully typed facts into her computer, smiling sympathetically, and wondered why people felt so free to pour out their burdens on the blue twill shoulders of the officers sworn to protect their lives and properties. Don’t these people think we grieve enough loved ones, suffer enough unhappy relationships or deal with enough illness in our private lives? she wondered, with yet another worried glance toward the Chief’s office. Mrs. Howard, the Chief’s wife, had called for the third time in one day, when she hadn’t called so many times in the last month. Scottie had heard just snippets of their conversation, but the tone of his voice and the expression on his face indicated that while he was trying to console her (Yes, yes, Mother, it’s a terrible thing) he was just as concerned as she.

Scottie smiled at the woman sitting across her desk as she typed out a description of the errant Fire On the Mountain’s Chisholm Trail – such a lot of name for such a little dog – and tried to imagine why the normally invisible Mrs. Howard would be calling so much and sounding as if she were in tears. Were she and the Chief contemplating divorce? Surely not. Scottie shook her head, both in response to her own train of thought and a miserable query from the concerned canine owner. No, Scottie had known the Chief and his wife for years, and never had she known a more loving and perfectly suited couple. She was sure they wouldn’t even think the word divorce. They had been through too much together in almost forty years: a magnificent climb in police hierarchy, raising two sons to successful adulthood – well, almost adulthood in Trent’s case, she amended, recalling some of his more outlandish pranks. No, it had to be something else. Something very bad.

As she pushed the button to send the puppy report to print, she darted another glance at the Chief, and saw him signal her as he put his receiver back into place. Excuse me, she said to the woman at her desk. Yes, sir? she asked at his threshold.

She didn’t know how the Chief viewed her. Was she the daughter of his former partner, a dutiful assistant, an occasional and pleasant addition to family gatherings, an attractive young woman or a just the means of getting things done? It didn’t matter. She was in uniform, and so was he, so all that concerned her was doing what he felt needed to be done to serve the People of New York (another thing she always thought in initial caps, as if the entire population of the city was a single, and precious, entity).

She couldn’t help waiting anxiously as he studied her, however. He looks older today, she thought, struggling to keep her face bright but impassive. If he chose not to share his burden with her, she would not let him know that she sensed something was wrong. She couldn’t help being fond of him, perhaps more than fond. At one time he had been her father’s partner, and when he died, the chief had swept in to fill that gap in her life. She knew she could come to him with any need or fear or pain. She tried never to take advantage of his kindness, but it was comforting to know that if she ever had a genuine need she could count on not just his love and support, but that of Mrs. Howard, as well. And, while Trent could be called childish and spoiled, he could also be depended upon as a friend. Trent’s older brother, Lane, however, was an enigma. She had seen pictures of him when she had been in the Howards’ home, and she had read about him newspapers and magazines, and even heard him discussed many times on television and over the dinner table with his family, but she had never actually met him. She only thought of him as she waited for the Chief to make his needs known because she had heard his name mentioned two or three times in the conversations between the Chief and Mrs. Howard throughout the day.

She hovered uncertainly in the doorway until he indicated a chair and she took it, obediently. You look a little blue today, she ventured, smoothing her uniform as she sat. Is there anything I can do to help?

Chief Howard smiled, gratefully. Well, he laced his big hands before him on the desk top and tried to make his voice casual, his expression politely interested. It was an interrogation technique Scottie had seen him use many times. What are the big plans for the weekend?

Scottie blinked in surprise. For me? None, she answered, turning to check on the woman with the missing dog. Just the usual stuff; laundry, shopping, church. her voice flattened slightly, and perhaps a date tomorrow night.

Perhaps? You’re not sure? Is this some new fellow?

No, she laughed without much enthusiasm, same old fellow. You’ve heard me mention him…Dr. Blair.

Ah, yes, the doctor. I thought you had decided not to see him anymore…that you didn’t think he was serious – you see? he waggled a finger at her, I do pay attention when you and Mot- Mrs. Howard chat.

That depends on your definition of serious, I suppose. She hid her frown by looking back at the woman again. Sir, I-

Oh? What is your definition?

Scottie felt uncomfortable laying her personal life out on the Chief’s broad desk, no matter how much he reminded her of her late father. These conversations were much better suited to the casual atmosphere of the Howard home. It’s just the usual thing, Sir. Now, if you’ll-

You mean, he’s commitment-phobic, the Chief suggested. Yes, I watched Oprah, too, he chuckled at her surprised expression. Why do you go out with him, then?

I don’t know, she admitted on a sigh. I have been avoiding him, but I promised him months ago I’d attend a medical awards banquet this weekend, and knowing him, I won’t hear the end of it if I’m not available to attend, whether we’ve spoken recently or not.

"Perhaps if you had some reason for not going," he said, slyly.

Washing my hair is not an acceptable reason for Dr. Blair, she assured him, starting to rise from her chair. Mrs. Pennington’s waiting so I should-

Well, suppose you were going out of town, he offered, to see family. Would that be a reason?

Scottie cocked her head to one side, the knot of curly black hair perched atop it unintentionally making an arrow that pointed to the green EXIT sign just outside his office door. Am I?

He smiled again. You are if you, as I suspect you do, consider Mrs. Howard and me family. We never see enough of you, and we’re finally christening the formal dining room, now that the restoration is complete. Let Trent bring you out for the weekend and you can be part of the inaugural dinner party.

Oh. The suggestion startled and disturbed her. She’d always believed that the Chief approved of her ukase regarding dating fellow officers – most especially Trent Howard. You know that Trent and I-

He got business-like with a snap. I’m not trying to dictate the players in your romance, Officer McArdle. I’m only suggesting that you let Trent drive you out there. Nervously, he straightened a row of paperclips he’d scattered across his desk. Well, that’s not strictly true…I will make suggestions about the players in your romance. But, Trent is not on my list. There is someone else…

Scottie settled back in the chair, intrigued yet still anxious. I’m afraid I don’t understand, Sir.

He rose, circled the desk and shut the office door. His manner was both furtive and awkward - two characteristics Scottie would never associate with him. It would take too much time for you to understand completely, so let me try to encapsulate the situation for you. He returned to his desk and brushed the paper clips aside. I’ll start by stressing that information is not to leave this office. I have the highest regard for your discretion, so please do not disappoint me.

Of course, Sir. She swallowed tightly and sat up straight, her expression as composed as she could manage. What on earth was going on out in Long Island that he might wish her to be involved? If he wanted her to come to dinner, or even to spend some time at the family home, he need only ask as he had on any other occasion. Why did he need to employ a ruse such as a mock invitation from Trent?

No, the Chief sighed, deeply, you’re entitled to some background. Twelve years ago, when my son Lane was twenty three, he was planning to marry a local girl, Marjean Harris. You’ve probably heard the name.

The actress? Yes, I’ve read about her. Not all of what she had read was flattering.

Yes, well, what passes for acting these days. He cleared his throat. She thought at the time she was better than a college boy, the son of a mere policeman, so, he made a sweeping gesture with his hand, she followed the crooked finger of a Hollywood producer and left Lane at the altar.

And it left him bitter, Scottie finished.

Leonard Howard was startled by her comment. How do you know?

She shrugged daintily, despite her less than dainty attire. "I’ve read about him, too. In twelve years, he has risen to the top of his industry. The Wall Street Journal has called him the Whiz Kid of Rubber. No man makes that kind of climb by taking vacations and weekends off. And Trent has had a lot to say about him, too. Says he… she paused to think, he goes through women like potato chips. She imitated his sweeping gesture. Simple logic."

The Chief shook his head. You really should have become a detective, Scottie, it’s in your blood. His eyes shifted right, to a framed photograph on the wall, and his expression softened to pained affection. I loved your dad, he was the best partner I could have ever had, but I had political aspirations and he wanted nothing more than his gold shield. Otherwise I would have been his partner to his last breath.

He gathered himself together. Actually, you’ve just summed up the last twelve years of Lane’s life. He’s loyal to his brother, loving and generous to his mother and me, but absolutely heartless toward women and competitors. His voice trailed off. It’s hard to think of that laughing, golden haired boy I once carried around on my shoulders growing up to the harsh and cynical man who calls me Father today. And it’s…well, never mind.

Won’t you please tell me? Scottie urged, leaning toward his desk. She couldn’t bear to see the distress which was so obviously overtaking him. I know something’s troubling you, and Aunt – Mrs. Howard. It is something about him, isn’t it? About your eldest son?

Yes, he admitted, heavily. Lane has a congenital heart defect. It killed my father at forty. My brother died from complications of it two years ago. It… he paused a moment, clearly to reign in powerful emotion, it will kill Lane, as well. We’ve recently learned he has, perhaps, a year to live.

It took Scottie a long time to find words, and when she did, she felt they were woefully inadequate. I am so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?

There is.

Scottie should have known it would be his answer; everything about the interview was clearly leading up to some monumental favor. She waited, pretended neither to see in his eyes nor hear in his voice the tears that threatened to overtake him.

That’s precisely what I was trying to get to. After that - that woman left him, Lane was, as you surmised, very bitter. He vowed never to marry. Naturally, since receiving this diagnosis, he’s begun to regret that position. He has a thriving business, a beautiful home, a financial fortune and no family, no children to whom he can bequeath these things. He’s threatening to marry the next girl who comes along, just so he can produce an heir before he dies.

Scottie recognized the plot at a last. She swallowed hard, trying to look as horrified as she felt. And you want me to be the…um…next girl?

Nothing so diabolical! he protested. We just want you to be a little… he considered the mess of paperclips, momentary distraction. He’s in town for a few days before going to Europe on business.

Scottie recalled a recent tabloid headline screaming at her from a supermarket shelf. And Marjean Harris is in town for some location filming.

Scottie McArdle, you are too smart for words, he conceded ruefully. Do you understand what I’m asking of you? If it were any other woman…well, I don’t think we – that is, Mother would be so worried. We saw what happened to him the last time he came in contact with that woman, and she was married to someone else at the time. If he married her, the rest of his life would be filled with emotional as well as physical pain. Still, he sighed, that would be his own decision. It’s Sandra I’m worried about. She might beat Lane to the grave if she has to watch Lane suffer for an irrational decision. If you could just keep him distracted until either he leaves for Europe or she returns to whatever cave she normally hangs upside down in, Sandra and I would be forever grateful.

I can certainly understand your concerns, Scottie said, carefully, but, I couldn’t guarantee that I-

You’ll try, I know that. That’s all I’d ask. You have a lot of distraction to offer; you’re sweet, kind, gracious and attractive. In fact, you are the only girl I know attractive enough to capture his attention and still be of a character not to take advantage of such a sad situation.

Scottie hid her blush by looking over her shoulder at the woman with the