Boots sounded on the porch outside, and Claire's heart jumped into her throat. Bryan? The knob turned, and the door pushed open as a familiar profile filled the door. Marcus. She gripped the edge of the work counter as she bit her lip against the disappointment pressing down. Would Bryan ever come?
"Hello." Marcus's voice held a strong note of caution as he eyed Ol' Mose at the table.
The older man stood and stepped around the table, hand extended. "Howdy."
Claire wiped her hands on her apron and scurried to join the men, preparing to act as a buffer if necessary. "Mr. Calhoun, I'd like you to meet my brother, Marcus Sullivan. Marcus, this is Gram’s…” Friend? Fiancé? No word seemed right. "This is Mr. Calhoun."
"Jest call me Ol' Mose like everyone else does." Mose gave his usual charming grin as they shook hands, but Marcus seemed to be armoring himself against its effects.
"I've heard of you."
"Marcus, come sit down for a sweet roll and coffee." Claire gripped her brother's elbow and tugged. Where was Gram when she needed her?
Her brother acquiesced, moving stiffly to his usual chair, across from the one Ol' Mose had occupied.
While Claire prepared another plate for Marcus, she kept an ear tuned to every nuance of sound from the men.
"So tell me about yourself." Marcus's voice was deeper than usual, like an overprotective Pa vetting a suitor for his daughter.
"Well, let's see. Spent my younger days a'trappin', back when trappin' was big time. Worked with the best of 'em, too. Jedediah Smith, Jim Clyman, Hugh Glass, an' a couple others ye might notta hear'd tell of."
Claire had never heard of any of them, but she kept that to herself. She placed the plate of cinnamon rolls in front of Marcus. He acknowledged it with a single nod, not taking his eyes off Ol' Mose.
"Trapped fer a lotta years, then sold my snares an' bought Zeke an' Zeb an' the wagon. Been seein' the countryside ever since, runnin' freight between Butte, Helena, an' Fort Benton."
The bedroom door opened, halting Marcus's reply as all three of them turned to look. Gram appeared, her hair arranged nicely, not the usually bed-rumpled look after her nap. She must have heard the male voices.
"Mose is here, Gram, and Marcus, too," Claire called. From the smile that touched Gram's lips, she was pretty sure Gram picked up on the undertone in her voice.
"My two favorite men in all the world." Gram extended a hand as she stepped toward the table.
Both men stood as Gram approached, and Ol' Mose strode forward to take her outstretched hand. "Darlin', you're a sight for sore eyes." He raised the fingers to his lips, and Gram's smile bloomed in full color.
Claire tried to catch Marcus's eye, but he studied the pair intently. His brow wrinkled, and he looked as if he were trying to comprehend every word, every nuance between them. It wasn't the wary, guarded expression from before. This one looked like he was trying his best to understand. Poor Marcus.
"Gram, come sit and have cinnamon rolls with the men." Claire turned to prepare yet another plate. She might as well be at the café for all the serving she was doing.
As the three sat and visited, Gram maneuvered the conversation well, asking Ol' Mose questions that gave him opportunities to share tidbits about himself. By the end of a quarter hour, Claire felt like she'd known the man for years, and she had a better inkling of why everyone who knew him thought so highly of him.
Claire glanced out the window, where afternoon shadows seemed to be taking over. It was almost time for her to be at the café, and this last batch of cinnamon rolls still needed to rise and bake. She nibbled her lip as she turned to face the threesome at the table.
Marcus caught her look. "What's wrong, baby sister?"
"I need to leave for the café, but it'll be another hour before these rolls are finished. Gram, could you put them in the oven in half an hour? I'll come back to get them after they've baked."
"Of course, darlin'." Gram waved a hand. "I'm jest sorry I slept so long and made you do all the bakin' today."
"How's about we bring the rolls to ya when they're ready?" Ol' Mose spoke up.
The weight rolled from Claire's shoulders. "That would be wonderful."
An hour later, Claire was working beside Lilly in the café's kitchen when the knock sounded on the back door.
"I'll get it." She stepped back from the work counter where she'd been slicing zucchini and wiped her damp hands on her apron.
When she pulled open the door, the smiling couple stood at the base of the step. Ol' Mose held out two stacked pans of cinnamon rolls, covered with a cloth. "Special delivery fer ya, ma'am."
Warmth surged through her chest. "Bring them on in. Would you two like to eat dinner while you're here?"
"Thank ye, dear, but I told Moses I'd fix a special dinner for him tonight." Gram reached out a hand. "Come here, though, Clara Lee. I want to tell you something."
Claire slipped past Mose as he brought in the rolls, then took Gram’s hand and descended the single stair.
Gram pulled her several steps away. “Marcus stayed around for a while to get to know my Moses.” She spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “They seemed to be getting along pretty well. Marcus agreed to marry us in his new church.”
“Oh, Gram. That’s great.” Claire pushed aside the emotions warring in her chest and squeezed Gram’s hand. “I really am happy you’ve found someone special. Do you have a date planned for the ceremony?”
A grin spread across Gram’s face. “Sunday after the first service.”
Claire inhaled so quickly, the breath caught in her throat, and coughs doubled her over.
Gram patted her back as Claire struggled to catch her breath. Finally she straightened, wheezing to pull air into her lungs.
“You all right, darlin’?”
Claire swallowed, blinking away the moisture in her eyes. “You’re getting married Sunday? As in, day after tomorrow?”
“That’s our plan. There’s not really a reason to wait, is there?”
“Um…You don’t think you’re rushing into it a bit?”
Gram’s hand found Claire’s while her other arm slipped around Claire’s shoulders to pull her into a sideways hug. “I’ve been thinkin’ about this a while now, Clara Lee. I’m not rushin’ into anything. I don’t know how many days I’ll have left, so best not dawdle once I make my mind up. Besides, honey, you’ll be wantin’ to get back home and on with the rest of your life. I don’t want you to feel obligated.”
Tears choked Claire’s throat, so she couldn’t respond right away. “Gram, I want to be here.” It was all she could manage.
Gram only squeezed her hand.
~ ~ ~
What in the great state of Georgia was she going to do now?
Claire carried the coffee pot toward the café’s kitchen as she pondered her options. She couldn’t stay at Gram’s house after the wedding. Not with newlyweds and only one bedroom. She blinked that thought away before images began to form.
Maybe Marcus’s new home? It had two bed chambers and needed a woman’s touch as bad as Marcus needed his next meal.
“Miss?”
Something touched her elbow as the word registered. Claire whirled to face the source. A tall, homely man sitting at one of the café tables jerked back. She forced a smile onto her face. “Yes, sir?”
What little she could see of his face above the beard flushed red. “I’m…uh…just wanted more coffee. Please.” He scooted his mug forward, then his chin dipped like a turtle retreating in its shell.
Remorse pricked her chest. “Of, course.” As she poured the brew, the bell on the door clanged, jerking Claire’s attention up.
The familiar face of Miriam Donaghue sent a surge through her. She yanked the coffee pot up as the liquid reached the top of the mug, used her apron to swipe at the drops she’d spilled, and almost ran to greet the Donaghues.
Miriam. Doc Alex.
Her heart plummeted as he turned to shut the door. Where was Bryan?
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Claire swallowed, trying to force down her disappointment so she could paste on a smile. Lord, I need your strength.
“Claire, how are you?” Miriam reached for her and pulled her into a hug, coffee pot and all.
Claire breathed in the scent of roses, closing her eyes to savor the embrace. “It’s good to see you.”
After several moments, Miriam drew back and held Claire’s shoulders at arm’s length. Her brows drew together, forming twin lines between them. “Are you feeling all right?” One side of her mouth pulled. “You look as pale as I feel. But the circles under your eyes are worse than mine. What’s wrong?”
Claire had to turn away or the sting of tears would give her away completely. “I’m fine. Just busy.” She forced cheeriness in her voice as she pointed to an empty table. “Would you like to sit here?”
The burn of Miriam’s gaze followed her as Claire poured coffee in the two empty mugs and Alex assisted his wife with her chair.
Claire kept her head down. “I’ll be back soon with your food.” She turned and fled to the kitchen.
Behind the curtain, Claire clunked the pitcher on the table and bent over it, gulping in steadying breaths. This was her chance to ask about Bryan. And she could not cry when she spoke the question.
“Are you all right?” Lilly’s voice pulled Claire’s attention, and she looked up to find the woman’s dark eyes brimming with concern.
“Yes.”
Aunt Pearl swept through the curtain, saving Claire from having to say anything else.
“Lilly, I have a group of six. Hungry as vultures.”
The younger woman turned back to the stove and scooped food onto plates.
Claire straightened from the table. “And I need two plates when you can, Lilly. No rush.” Because it’d take several minutes before she’d work up the nerve to face Miriam again.
Lilly was overly efficient, though. Too soon, she slid two plates of pork and pickled cabbage across the table toward Claire. “Is there more you need?”
Claire swallowed. “No. Thank you.”
As she approached the table where the Donaghues sat, Miriam glanced up, a smile spreading across her face. “Thanks, Claire.”
Inhaling a breath, she forced her mouth to open. “How are you both?”
Miriam looked up to catch Claire’s gaze. “Much better now, thanks.” Her eyes flicked toward her husband, and her head gave the slightest of shakes.
Had she still not told her husband the news?
Claire bit back a nervous smile. Miriam already had a glow shimmering from her face. The secret didn’t seem to bother her, but what was she waiting for?
Miriam looked to her husband. “Do you think we should take Bryan a plate?”
Claire’s nerves did a flip in her stomach.
Alex shrugged. “Probably. Doubt he’ll eat otherwise.”
“Is he okay?” There. She’d asked. But now she couldn’t breathe as she waited for the answer.
Miriam’s mouth twisted. “There’s nothing medically wrong with him, if that’s what you mean. He’s been working like a fiend, though.” She sank back in her chair. “Hasn’t come in before ten any night this week. If no one calls for him, he goes out to check on people that are perfectly fine.” The hint of sarcasm in her voice was laced with affection.
Alex chucked. “He’s just a bit hard-headed. But that’s not one of the official maladies we learned in medical school.”
Anger burned through Claire, sparking in her gut and flaming as it rose upward. Relief that he was healthy did little to slow the fire. He was avoiding her on purpose. Working himself sick so he wouldn’t have to see her. Well, too bad. When he finally came back from hiding out for the day, she’d be there waiting.
And she would get some answers.
Chapter Nineteen
Claire didn’t move from her place in the shadows by the clinic door as the weary figure trudged toward her on the street. Watching the outline of his slumped shoulders and drooping head made her chest ache. She wanted to reach out and stroke away whatever was bothering him. Pull him into a hug. Take on all his worries.
She straightened her spine as he slogged up the steps. She’d come here for answers. And answers she would have. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped out of the shadow, into the moonlight streaming onto the boardwalk.
“Bryan.”
His head jerked up. “Claire?” The word rasped, as though he’d drug it across a rocky desert.
“Bryan, what’s wrong?” That wasn’t what she’d planned to say, but the sight of him so dejected, the desolation in his voice. It reached into her chest and squeezed until she ached.
She kept her feet planted, though. Refused to take another step toward him, lest she fly into his arms.
“What are you doing here?” He seemed to have gathered himself from that moment of raw emotion. His voice was distant now. Wary.
Claire propped her hands on her hips. “I came for answers. I want to know why you’ve been avoiding me. Is it something I did?” She hardened her tone. “Or is kiss-and-run your usual way of getting to know your patients.” That might have been a low blow, but she had to know how he’d react. His true colors.
Bryan’s head whipped up, wide eyes picking up a glimmer from the moonlight. His nostrils flared. “No. Claire, I thought you wanted time with your brother. I was giving you space.”
She fought to close her dropped jaw. “Space? Why in the city of Jerusalem would I need that?” She took a step forward, peering up to see his face better.
An emotion flashed across his features. Pain? “I… You…you seemed so happy to see him. I didn’t think he’d want me around. ”
That was the most preposterous thing she’d heard in months. Claire dropped her hands to her sides. “Did you ever think maybe I’d want you around? And Marcus too. You don’t think he’d want to get to know you?”
Bryan shrugged, his hands finding his pockets. “Why would he? He came here to see you and your grandmother. I’m no one to him.”
Claire took another step forward, bringing them less than two feet apart. But she kept her hands at her sides. “How could you say that? Even if you meant nothing to me, Marcus would still enjoy your company. The two of you are so much alike. You both care so much about people.” She thought of her crazy brother. “He’s a little reckless sometimes, but I think you’d like him if you gave him a chance.”
He raised his chin. “Gave him a chance? He could have come to see me if he’d wanted.”
She lifted her brows. “Really? Cause I had to wait ‘til long after any decent hour to find you tonight.” Dare she say what she really wanted? He might not like it, but someone had to speak the truth.
“You know what your problem is, Bryan Donaghue?”
He tilted his chin, eyeing her. “What?”
Ire rushed through her veins. “You work too hard. And not just long days helping patients.”
She poked a finger at his chest and took a tiny step closer. “You work too hard to make people like you. You try to earn their respect and friendship, when all it would take is to let them see the real you.” She smoothed her hand over his heart. “The you I’ve seen.”
He gripped her wrist, holding her hand in place. The rapid beat of his pulse thumped through her palm.
“I don’t know how to do that.” His words were soft. Achingly sincere. “It’s different with you. You accept me even when I have nothing left to give.”
She stretched her other hand up to rest on his shoulder, a smile tugging her lips. “You mean I don’t put up with your sass.”
A crooked grin touched his face. “You bring it out in me.”
That grin started the familiar flutterings in her stomach. Her gaze wandered up and fell into the depths of his. The earnestness there took her breath away.
He brought her fingers to his lips and pressed a warm kiss on her knuckles. “I’ve missed you.”
He could have knocked her over with a breath, but she co
uldn’t resist a bit of teasing. “You could have fooled me.”
His gaze narrowed, and he slipped a hand around her waist, pulling her closer. “Very sure.”
His mouth lowered to hers, and the touch was ecstasy. So soft. So rich. His hand came up to caress her cheek.
The kiss ended far too soon, and Bryan pulled back a few inches. She forced her eyes open.
He watched her. “Claire.” His voice came out breathy, but still so rich.
Her heart answered him. No words needed. She touched the stubble on his cheek, the rough texture awakening the nerves in her fingers.
“Can I take you and your grandmother to church tomorrow?” His voice was husky now. “I hear we have a fine new preacher. One I’d like to get to know.”
The way his lips quirked. She couldn’t resist raising on her toes to plant a soft kiss. “I’d love to. But Gram’s already spoken for.”
He didn’t let the kiss fade, but swooped back down for another. His lips strong on hers. Mama had once said, never decide whether you’re in love when you’re with the man. Wait to pray about it when you’re apart. But if she could judge by how she felt at this moment, she would admit she was falling so quickly for this man. He was so good. And kind. The way he cared for others. Even the way he was so hard on himself. And he was such a good kisser.
They were both breathing hard as he pulled away and rested his forehead on hers. “I better get you home. You shouldn’t have come here by yourself.” He caressed her cheek.
“I had to.”
With a groan he pulled back, pushing himself away from her, then dropping his hands to his sides. “Let’s go before I lose the last of my senses.”
The cool night air rushed over her skin where his touch had been. Claire gripped her arms across herself.
He motioned for her to precede him down the steps. As they strolled the moonlit street, he kept himself at least a foot away.
“So did you say Gram’s spoken for tomorrow? Is Ol’ Mose back?”
“You could say that.”
He picked up on the dry tone in her voice, giving her a sideways glance. “Meaning?”
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