She was just about to head into the house when Fiona suddenly turned around and raced for the edge of the garden.
What on earth?
“Fiona,” she called. “Come on, girl. Home.”
The dog ignored her, headed with single-minded purpose in the other direction. There was probably some poor mole who had been foolish enough to set up shop in the gardens the Irish setter considered her own.
Fiona didn’t stop when she reached the beach access gate. To Melissa’s astonishment, she nudged open the latch and raced through, leaving her little choice but to chase after the dog.
She was too tired for this, but Fiona didn’t seem to care about that.
Exasperated, Melissa followed the dog onto the beach. “Come on, Fi. Here girl,” she called, then her voice faltered.
Fiona wasn’t alone. She stood on the sand not far from the house, nose to nose with another dog. A little black schnauzer, whose leash was currently held by the one man she didn’t feel strong enough to face again right now.
Her heart seemed to stutter, and she wanted to slip back through the gate and hurry into the house.
After that emotional kiss earlier when she had bared everything in her heart, she didn’t want to face him right now...or ever again, if she could arrange it.
But he was here and she had no choice. She forced herself to move toward him. “Sorry. She got out somehow. Come on, Fiona. Inside.”
The dog showed no sign of obeying her, and Melissa sighed, taking another step toward him and the two dogs.
“Julia and Will send their love and gratitude,” he said when she was an arm’s length away.
Despite her discomfort, she couldn’t help a smile at that. “How is Julia? I wanted to go visit but thought I would give her a day or two to be settled at home.”
“She’s good. Glowing.”
That made her smile again. “And baby Miri?”
“Beautiful. I held her for a good fifteen minutes while the infant unit nurses were giving me their report and she slept the whole time. She obviously likes me.”
Why wouldn’t she? The man was irresistible. Her heart ached when she pictured him in a hospital nursery, holding a tiny baby who shared the same name as someone dear to him, someone he had lost.
She was suddenly deeply grateful she would have the chance to watch this Miri grow up. She would be here to see her learn to walk, to ride a bike, to go on dates. Melissa, at least, wasn’t going anywhere.
“Maybe Julia can keep in touch with you after you’re back on active duty and send you pictures of her.”
He was quiet, his hands on Max’s leash. “That would be great, except I’m not going back on active duty.”
She stared at him in the gathering twilight. “You’re...what?”
He returned her shocked look with an impassive one she couldn’t read. “I called my commanding officer on my way back from the hospital and told her I wouldn’t be signing up for another tour.”
“But...but why? I thought you loved what you do in the military. You were doing important work. Necessary work.”
“I am. I was. But today when we were delivering Miri, I realized something.”
He gazed toward the ocean and the dramatic rock formations offshore, his features in shadow.
“There is more than one way to make a difference in the world,” he said slowly. “Sometimes that involves focusing on helping out those in critical situations. That’s a good and honorable thing to do, and I will always be grateful I had the experiences and learned the lessons I did.”
He glanced back at her, blue eyes glittering in the fading light. “I’m glad I had the chance to serve. I’m a better doctor and a better person for it. But I have no obligation to do it forever. Even Justine was never planning to serve for the rest of her life. She was making plans for after she left Doctors Without Borders. She was going to adopt Miri and take her back to France with her.”
“Yes. That’s what you said.”
“If she could make plans for a different future someday, why can’t I?”
“What kind of future?” Her heart now seemed to be racing in double time as she tried to absorb this shocking information.
“I want to be home. I want to help my neighbors and be around when my dad needs me and watch Miri and any other babies I deliver grow up and have babies of their own.”
“You’re leaving the army.” She couldn’t seem to process it even after his explanation.
He shrugged. “I’m leaving active duty. I’ll stay in the reserves. If my country needs me, I may end up being called up in emergencies. I’m more than willing to do that on a temporary basis, but I want something else. I want to go into practice with my dad. Sanderson and Sanderson. Has a nice ring, don’t you think?”
Oh, that would make Wendell happy beyond words. “Your dad will be thrilled.”
“He will. With me here to share the burden, who knows? He might even slow down a little and start to enjoy life outside of medicine.”
She wasn’t sure that would happen, but she hoped so for his father’s sake.
As she processed the news, the magnitude of what he was telling her began to soak through her shock. He was staying in Cannon Beach. Staying at the clinic where she worked. That would only mean one thing.
She would have no choice.
“That’s great. I’m happy for you. You’ll be gr-great.”
Tears began to burn behind her eyes, and she had to hope he couldn’t see them in the dusky light.
Unfortunately, she forgot how sharp-eyed the man could be. His gaze narrowed and he watched her with an intensity she couldn’t escape.
“What’s wrong? I was hoping for a...different reaction.”
“I’m happy for you. I really am. This is exactly what your father would have wanted.”
“So why do you look like I just started clear-cutting the Brambleberry House gardens?”
She wanted to come up with something clever that would explain the tears she was afraid he had seen, but she was too tired to tell him anything but the truth.
“I love working at your dad’s practice,” she said softly. “But if you’re coming home for good, I’m afraid I’ll have to quit.”
His mouth sagged. “Quit? Why the hell would you do that?”
She had to tell him, especially now that she’d started. The words caught in her throat, but she forced them out.
“I can’t work for you, Eli. I can’t. Not when I...” She faltered, losing her nerve.
He looked thunderstruck, as if she’d just thrown a handful of sand in his eyes. “When you what?”
She closed her eyes, mortified to her soul that she’d said anything at all. She should have just let the dust settle for a week or so and then quietly tendered her resignation.
“Are you really going to make me say it? Fine. I’ll say it, then. I can’t work for you when I have...have feelings for you.”
This was the most difficult conversation she’d ever had. She wanted to find a hole and let Fiona and Max bury her in it like a leftover soup bone.
“These last two weeks have been torture,” she finally admitted, “trying to keep things on a professional level when my heart wants so much more. I’m sorry. I can’t do it. I’m not strong enough. I’ll have to go somewhere else to work. I’m sure I can find another job somewhere else along the coast. I only hope your dad will be able to give me a good reference.”
He didn’t say anything for a full minute, his expression filled with shock and something else, something she couldn’t identify.
“Say something,” she finally couldn’t help but say.
When he continued to stare at her, she grabbed Fiona’s collar and turned to head to the house, wanting only to escape.
“Melissa. Stop. Please!”
Fiona plopped her hindqu
arters in the sand, refusing to move other step, while a warm, rose-scented breeze seemed to eddy around them.
She couldn’t face him. Humiliated and miserable, she stood there outside the beach gate, not knowing what to do.
She thought she knew what love was. She had been married for five years, for heaven’s sake. But everything she understood before seemed wholly insignificant compared to this vast ache of emotion coiling through her.
“Melissa.”
He tugged her around to face him, and she finally slowly lifted her gaze to his. The emotions blazing there made her catch her breath. Her pulse in her ears seemed louder than the surf.
“I want to stay in Cannon Beach for dozens of reasons,” he said, his voice low and intense. “And almost every single one of them is because of you.”
She gazed at his strong, lean features, everything inside her tuned to this moment.
“I came back to town broken,” he went on gruffly. “I didn’t want to admit it to myself or anyone else, but something inside my head and heart shattered when Miri and Justine died. I wouldn’t say it was post-traumatic stress disorder, but the whole world seemed empty, joyless. Wrong.”
He smiled a little and reached for her hand. His skin was warm against hers, and she shivered at the contrast, wanting to lean into him but afraid to move.
“And then I came back to town and met up with the girl I had the biggest crush on when I was eighteen and she was just fifteen, and I started to heal.”
“You did not have a crush on me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do you remember that time we danced together at the prom? Your boyfriend tried to beat me up later, but I didn’t care. I would have done it all over again. It was all worth it, for the few moments I got to hold you in my arms.”
“Why didn’t you say anything? Back then or now?”
“You were way out of my league back then. You still are. I know I’ll never be good enough for you, but that doesn’t seem to matter anymore. The only thing that matters is that I’m in love with you and want the chance to show you I can make you happy.”
Joy exploded through her, fierce and bright and perfect. “You love me.”
“I think I’ve loved you a little since we were in high school together. But when I came back to Cannon Beach and met you again—the strong, amazing, compassionate woman you’ve become—I fell in love all over again.”
Warmth flowed over her, healing and blissful. He loved her. She would never get tired of those words.
She reached up on tiptoe and kissed him, and this time when his mouth met hers there were no reservations between them, no uneasiness or worry or doubts.
Only love.
He kissed her for a long time, until the sun had almost slipped into the ocean. She would never grow tired of his kisses, either.
“I love you, Elias Sanderson. I’m so in love with you, I’ve barely been able to function around you. I’m amazed I could do my job, I was so busy trying to hide my feelings about you.”
“Whatever you did worked. I had no idea.”
She wanted to laugh and dance barefoot in the sand and fly a hundred kites with hearts all over them. Joy soared through her, wild and fierce and perfect.
He wouldn’t be returning to harm’s way. He would be here in Cannon Beach with her where they could walk the dogs at sunset and teach Skye how to play billiards and listen to music at The Haystacks on Saturday nights.
They could work together, helping the neighbors and friends they cared about.
Storms would come. Tree limbs would fall and brambleberry bushes would be broken and torn. But they would get through it all together.
He kissed her, and that future seemed sweet and full of incalculable promise.
“I’m not that young, perky cheerleader anymore,” she eventually felt compelled to remind him when his hands started to wander.
“I know,” he murmured against her mouth. “You’re so much more than that now. A loving mother, a compassionate nurse, a loyal friend. And the woman who has my heart.”
She could live with that.
She smiled and kissed him as a warm, rose-scented breeze danced around them like an embrace.
Epilogue
Humming one of her favorite Christmas songs, Rosa Galvez twisted another string of lights around one of the porch columns. She only had two more to go, then this part of her holiday decorating would be done.
She loved this time of year. Brambleberry House was at its most beautiful at Christmas. The old Victorian was made for the season. Wreaths hung on the front door and in every window and her neighbor Sonia had been busy for the past two weeks hanging lights around the garden. Well, busy supervising a crew of teenage neighbor boys, anyway, who were earning a little extra change while helping them decorate.
The house would be spectacular when they finished.
She twisted the last of the strand of lights around the column, grateful for her coat against the cool, damp afternoon.
Though it was barely December, a Christmas tree already gleamed in the window of the first-floor apartment and she could see Skye peeking out. The girl waved at Rosa and at Fiona, sprawled out on the porch watching her work, then disappeared from view, back inside where she was baking something with Melissa.
Rosa had to smile, though she felt a little pang in her heart. The house would seem so empty when Skye and her mother moved out, but at least she wouldn’t have to worry about that for a few more months. Eli Sanderson and Melissa Fielding planned to marry here at Brambleberry House in April, when the flowers were first beginning to bloom in the gardens. It would be a lovely place to marry. She wanted to think Abigail would have been happy at the romantic turn of events.
Melissa and Eli were already looking at houses and seemed to have found a lovely Craftsman home close to Wendell Sanderson’s house.
She was happy for her friend but, oh, she would miss her and Skye. So would Fiona. Who was going to take the Irish setter on runs along the shore? Certainly not Rosa.
She was hanging the last of the lights when a big late-model pickup truck she didn’t recognize pulled into the driveway and a tall, serious-looking man climbed out. He stood for a moment, looking up at the house, then walked toward her.
For reasons she couldn’t have explained, Rosa tensed.
She hardly ever had the panic attacks and meltdowns that had afflicted her so much after the dark period of her youth, before she had been rescued by Sheriff Daniel Galvez and his wife, Lauren, who later adopted her. Those terrible months seemed a lifetime ago. She was a different person now, one who had worked hard to find happiness.
Every once in a while, she felt as if all the progress she had achieved over the last fifteen years was for nothing—that somewhere deep inside, she would always be a frightened girl, tangled in a situation out of her control.
“May I help you?” she asked as the man approached the porch.
“I hope so.”
Up close, he seemed even more grim than he had appeared when he climbed out of his vehicle. No trace of a smile appeared on his features, only tight control.
“I’m looking for a woman. I’m pretty sure she lives here. Her name is Elizabeth Hamilton.”
The name meant nothing to Rosa, who knew all the past tenants going back to the original owner. Still, she felt a stirring of unease.
“I know no one by this name,” she said. She was nervous, which was probably the reason that her Spanish accent became more pronounced. “I believe you have the wrong house.”
“It’s not the wrong house,” he said flatly. “I know she’s here.”
“And I know she is not,” Rosa retorted. Like her accent, her unease was becoming more pronounced, as well. This man made her nervous, though she couldn’t have said why.
She wondered, for one fleeting moment, whether she should pull her ph
one out and call 911. It was a crazy reaction, she knew. The man wasn’t threatening anyone. He was only looking for a woman who did not live there. She could only imagine trying to explain why she had called the police for such a reason to the frustrating but gorgeous new police chief. Wyatt Townsend would look at her with even more suspicion than he usually did.
“Now, I must ask you to leave.”
She saw frustration cross features that she would ordinarily call handsome. Right now, they only looked dangerous.
“Sorry, ma’am, but I’ve come too far to leave now.”
There was a bit of a Western twang to his voice, one that seemed similar to those she heard throughout her teenage years living in Utah.
“The woman you are seeking, this Elizabeth Hamilton, she does not live here.”
He let out a sigh and looked down at the piece of paper. “What about Sonia Davis. Is she here?”
Now her nervousness bloomed into full-on fear. What could he possibly want with their Sonia?
Her neighbor was home. Rosa had seen her come in earlier and make her painstaking way up to her second-floor apartment, looking more weary and sore than usual.
She wanted to tell him no. She wanted to tell him to go away and not come back. Some instinct warned Rosa that this man was a threat to her secretive, vulnerable neighbor, who had already been through so very much.
She opened her mouth to lie but closed it again. What if Sonia was expecting him? What if she wanted to see this handsome man in cowboy boots and a worn ranch jacket, who drove a pickup truck that had Idaho license plates and the words Hamilton Construction on the side.
“She lives upstairs.” She couldn’t see any point in lying. He obviously knew Sonia lived here. “If you would like, I can see if she is home. What name should I tell her? And is there a message you would you like me to give her?”
He glanced up, almost as if he could see through the porch ceiling to the floor above. Now the tight expression showed a crack of emotion, something stark and raw. She thought she saw longing, frustration, pain, before his features became closed again.
“Sure. My name is Luke Hamilton. And you can tell this Sonia—whose real name, by the way, is Elizabeth Sinclair Hamilton—that her husband has come to take her home.”
A Soldier's Return ; The Daddy Makeover Page 17