“I understand. No, don’t shake your head. I really do. Brushes with—with death make people see things differently.” Gina gave a little laugh. “Oprah 101. But it’s true. And I promise, that’s the end of that. No more comments from me, I swear.” She looked down at their joined hands for a long moment. When she lifted her head, her eyes were damp but she was smiling. “Okay,” she said briskly, “it’s time to take on the mall.”
“Mom? Would you mind very much if we put it off?”
“No. Of course not. If you’re tired—”
“I’m not. And before you ask, yes, my leg’s fine. I just thought I might go out for a while, take a look around and see what’s changed.”
“In Cooper’s Corner?” Gina grinned. “You’re joking.”
“Alison said there’s a new B and B.”
“Yes. And that’s it, unless you want to count the new gum ball machine down at the grocery store. Why don’t you call Alison and see if she’s free for lunch? I’m sure you two still have lots of catching up to do. Take my car, go for a drive—the snow’s not serious. It should be all done in another hour or two. Besides, my car has four-wheel drive. And those anti-lock brakes. Just remember, if you need to stop fast...” Gina rolled her eyes. “Good grief. I’m treating you as if you were a teenager.”
Wendy laughed as she rose to her feet. “Yes, Mother,” she said, putting deliberate emphasis on the word, “you are.”
“Well, I’m not going to apologize. Being a nag is one of the perks of being a mom.” Gina smiled. “Someday you’ll find that out for yourself.”
“Maybe,” Wendy said, her smile tilting. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
She managed to hold the smile until Gina returned to the kitchen. Wendy wasn’t in the mood for company, not even Alison’s, but maybe her mother was right. Lunch might be fun. If nothing else, it would be a distraction.
She phoned the post office. Alison said yes, lunch sounded like a great idea.
“How about the Burger Barn? We never did get there the other day.”
“Terrific.” Wendy got her down parka from the closet, tucked the phone between her ear and her shoulder and worked her arm into a sleeve. “At noon? Is that good for you?”
Alison asked her to hold on for a second while she checked to see if the other clerk would swap his lunch hour with her.
“Yeah,” she said, “that’s fine. See you at noon.”
Wendy hung up the phone, zipped her jacket, yelled a goodbye to her mother and headed out into the morning.
Maybe a drive and a bit of cold, clean air would help clear her head of memories that had no place in her life anymore.
* * *
SETH FELT LIKE James Bond.
Forget that. The suave Mr. Bond wouldn’t be driving a country road, hanging four car lengths behind a blue Volvo driven by a woman he’d once loved. Correction. A woman he’d thought he once loved. No, old James wouldn’t do such a stupid thing. He wouldn’t have stood silent while Wendy all but pointed to the door and told him to get out of her house, either.
All right. Seth hadn’t expected her to throw herself into his arms with joy. He’d only stopped by out of courtesy, to ask her how things were going....
“Liar,” he growled, dropping back as the brake lights of Gina’s blue Volvo blinked.
He’d gone to ask her the question that was still stuck in his craw after all these years. Why? Why had she treated him like dirt when he’d flown to Norway to be with her? Why had the flame that had burned so brightly between them turned to cold ashes? What had happened to all the plans they’d made?
He’d deserved better than Wendy’s refusal to see him, that cold note of dismissal and the endless silence ever since.
He’d gone to see her for answers, answers she damn well owed him. Instead, she’d stood on those steps, looking down at him with ice in her eyes, and what had he done about it? Nothing.
“Nothing,” he said, his jaw tightening.
Instead, he’d stomped out to his truck and slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel with frustration. His cell phone had rung just then and a good thing, too. It was Rod Pommier, phoning to ask if they could meet this afternoon instead of this morning. Yes, Seth had said, that was fine.
It sure as hell was.
How could he have talked intelligently about beams and ceilings and rebuilding a chalet when all he wanted to do was go back to the Monroe house, confront Wendy and ask her if she really thought she could screw around with a man’s head and get away with it not once, but twice in a lifetime?
Just about then, Wendy came down the steps, opened the garage door and drove out in Gina’s Volvo wagon. Without thinking about it, Seth had started his truck, waited until she reached the end of the block, and pulled out after her. He’d been following her ever since while she drove, seemingly without plan. They’d gone through the village, turned onto Route 7, driven north for a while....
The Volvo’s brake lights winked. The right turn signal went on. She was pulling into the lot at the Burger Barn, a place he hadn’t been in since...was it really that long? Since they’d dated.
He checked his mirror and turned in after her. She wouldn’t recognize his black pickup, but it was just a little past 11:45, too early for the safe anonymity of the lunch crowd that would start flocking here pretty soon. Seth kept his head averted when he drove past her and parked at the far end of the almost empty lot.
What now? She didn’t seem to be getting out. Yeah. She was. He saw her door open, saw her step out, shut the door and pull up her hood.
His heart climbed into his throat.
The snow had changed to big, lazy flakes that left a white layer on the ground. There could be ice beneath it. He’d watched Wendy in town the other day and seen how she limped. The footing was probably dicey, but he could just imagine her reaction if he suddenly came barreling out of nowhere, grabbed her arm, told her to hang on to him for support.
He sat still, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened, watching her make her way toward the Barn, his entire body on alert in case he had to throw open the door and race to her side. When she reached the restaurant and went in, Seth let out his breath, cursed himself for being a fool, reached for the key still in the ignition...
And stopped.
What was he doing? He’d gone to see her this morning, followed her through half the valley after she’d told him to get lost, and now he was just going to turn around and drive away? The hell he was.
He wanted closure.
Nine years before, he’d taken every dime he’d managed to save, sunk it into an airplane ticket and flown straight to Wendy because he’d thought she needed him.
She hadn’t.
It had taken him a long time to get his life back together after that. It was a hell of a thing to think a woman loved you and then have her send you a note—a note, damn it—that told you she didn’t.
Closure, Seth thought, his jaw tightening. He not only wanted it, he deserved it.
He took the key from the ignition, got out of the truck and strode toward the restaurant. The warm scents of grilled hamburgers and fried onions met him as he stepped inside. He pulled off his gloves, looked around and saw her sitting in a booth way at the back. She was reading the menu, her head slightly bent, auburn curls falling forward over her shoulders, and he walked toward her quickly, wanting whatever small advantage he might gain through surprise.
“Wendy.”
Surprise? Shock was more like it. She looked up, face draining of color, the menu falling from her hands.
“Seth? What are you doing here?”
“The same thing I was doing before. I’m here to see you.”
“To see...” She swallowed. With grim pleasure, he saw her struggling to regain he
r composure. Slowly, color washed up under her skin in a wave of pale pink. “Well.” She swallowed again, reached for the leather gloves and purse she’d put on the seat beside her. “Well, unfortunately, I was just—”
“Leaving?” He smiled tightly. “I don’t think so. You just got here.”
Her eyes widened. “How do you know? Did you—I don’t believe it! You followed me.”
“Yes. And I’ll damn well follow you again, up and down this valley if I have to.”
“Keep your voice down!” She looked around. The only other customers were at the front. Nobody was paying any attention to them. Frankly, he wouldn’t have cared if the entire town marched in at that moment. Clearly, she did.
“You keep running away, I’ll just keep going after you.”
That did it. Her eyes snapped with anger. “You’re crazy.”
“Maybe so, but the choice is yours. You want me to tag after you, I will. Up and down Route 7 and from one end of Main Street to the other. I can always park my truck in your driveway and camp out.”
“For heaven’s sake...!” She glared at him. “Sit down.”
“An intelligent decision,” he said as he slid into the booth across from her. “But then, you always were bright. I was the one who wasn’t.”
“I don’t know what that’s supposed to—”
“Hi,” a voice said cheerfully. “You folks ready to order?”
Seth looked up. A waitress had materialized beside their table, a notepad in her hand and a smile on her lips.
“The onion burger is today’s special. Two patties of beef, smoked cheddar, fried onions—”
“Coffee,” Seth said.
The waitress lifted her eyebrows. “Right. And you, miss?”
“I don’t want anything.”
“She’ll have coffee, too.”
“Listen, Seth...” Wendy glanced up at the waitress and flushed. “Coffee’s fine.”
The waitress pursed her lips and scooped up their menus. “You got it.”
Seth waited until she’d walked away from the table. Then he leaned forward. “Only a stupid son of a bitch wouldn’t have realized you were leaving him, not just Cooper’s Corner.”
Wendy looked blank. “I don’t know...” She stared at him and then she laughed. Really laughed, which only sent his anger up another notch.
“You think that’s funny?”
“You think I went to Norway rather than simply break things off with you?” She sat back as the waitress served their coffee, her laughter dying as soon as the girl left. “You know what, Seth? If you believe that, you’re right. You really are dumb.”
“You know damn well what I mean. When you left here, I thought things were fine between us. And then, wham, you didn’t even have the decency to slam the door in my face. A Dear John letter, for God’s sake. Until then, I thought people only did those things in bad movies.”
His face was dark with anger. Wendy could see the faint, rhythmic tick of a muscle in his jaw. For a second, she wanted to reach across the table, put her fingers against that telltale pulse, tell him...tell him—
“All right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I...I shouldn’t have done it that way. But I was in a hospital bed, remember? I wasn’t up to having conversations with visitors.”
“I wasn’t a visitor, damn it. I was your lover.” Seth leaned forward, his voice low and rough. “Do you have any idea what it was like? Being here, a million miles from you, getting that call from your mother, knowing you’d been hurt, knowing that you might—that you might be dying?”
“This is history. And I’ve already apologized. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? To hear me admit I was wrong? I should have told you I was ending things...except, if you think back, I tried. I refused to see you. I didn’t open your notes....”
She wrapped her hands around the mug, hoping some of the coffee’s warmth would seep into her icy fingers. She didn’t regret what she’d done. What choice had there been? Seth was over her. She was over him. But she owed him this moment.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I was wrong. I know it’s years too late, but...but thank you for coming.”
He made a sound that might have been a laugh. “I didn’t want your thanks, Wendy. I just wanted you to look at me. Tell me how glad you were to see me.” His voice turned husky. He cleared his throat, reached for the cream and poured some into his coffee. “What’s that old song?” he said with a quick smile. “Something about not always getting what you want, right?”
“You’re right about the note, too. I should have had the courage to face you and tell you I was ending things.”
He looked up from his coffee, and all at once he seemed young and vulnerable. “That you wanted me out of your life.”
“It wasn’t easy,” Wendy said. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I want you to know that.”
“Yeah.” He stirred his coffee, then put down his spoon. “But you did it.” He lifted the mug to his lips, took a sip. “And you were right,” he said briskly. “I mean, we were just kids. What do kids know about what they really feel or want?”
She felt a little tug at her heart. “Not much.” She took a deep breath. “Okay?”
Was it? He wasn’t sure, but he’d come for closure and that was what she was offering.
“Sure.” Seth held out his hand. “Friends?”
“Friends.”
She smiled and put her hand in his. His fingers, warm and callused, tightened around hers. An electric tingle of remembrance shot through her. Their eyes met and held. Then he let go of her hand and reached for his coffee.
“I hear you’re a teacher.”
“Mais oui,” she said, still smiling, still feeling the current running from her fingers straight through her blood. “And you’re a hotshot carpenter.”
She was doing her best to lighten the conversation, Seth realized. He could help her, now that they’d settled things. They’d been friends long before they’d been lovers. It would be nice to be friends again—and they could be, now that his anger was gone.
“That’s me.” He grinned. “Seth Castleman, Cooper’s Corner’s best carpenter.”
“I bet.”
“Hey, I can’t lose.” He dropped his voice to an exaggerated whisper. “I’m its only carpenter.”
They both smiled, waited, then spoke at the same time.
“So,” Wendy said.
“So,” Seth said.
They laughed. “You first,” he told her.
“No, you go ahead. What were you about to say?”
“I was going to ask what brought you home.”
A visit, she started to say, but he smiled, a crooked tilt of the mouth she’d never forgotten. Her heart gave that funny little lurch again, but there was nothing but pleasant interest in his gaze. Good. That was good. That was all she felt, too. It meant they could be, well, perhaps not friends, but friendly. In that spirit, she decided to tell him the truth.
“I’m here to meet someone. Well, to introduce myself to him.” Seth looked puzzled. She leaned closer. “Have you ever heard of a surgeon named Rod Pommier?”
He blinked and sat back. “Pommier? Yeah, sure I’ve heard of him. Actually—”
“Actually, what?”
I know him. The words were on the tip of Seth’s tongue, but he bit them back.
“A person would have to be dense not to have heard of the guy. He made the papers, the cover of all the magazines a while back....” He stared at her. “You want him to operate on you?”
“That’s right.” Wendy’s face seemed to light from within. “He’s developed a technique that could change my life. It’s a bonding thing. I don’t understand most of it but—�
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“Change your life how? You’re walking. That was the big thing, wasn’t it? That you got back the use of your leg?”
“I want to ski again,” she said, as if he should have been able to figure that out for himself.
“Can’t you?”
“Is that your idea of a joke?”
Her voice had turned cold. He knew somehow he’d made a mistake, but about what?
“No. Of course not. Look, I know you walk with a limp—”
“That’s very incisive.”
“Wendy. Damn it, all I meant was... I still ski and—”
“Yes,” she said. Her tone had gone from cold to frigid. “I’m sure you do.” She grabbed her gloves and purse and began to rise. He reached out and caught her wrist. “Please let go of me.”
“Will you stop being an idiot? I’m trying to tell you that when I’m on the slopes, I see people with all kinds of handicaps.”
“Handicaps.” Ice crystals rimed each syllable.
“You know what I mean. I just assumed—”
“Assumptions are always a mistake.”
“Will you stop looking at me that way?”
“How about you let go of my wrist?”
“Look...” He sat back, telling himself that he wasn’t going to get anywhere by losing his temper again. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. If you miss skiing—”
“If I miss it?” She gave a bitter laugh. “You really don’t know me at all, do you?”
His eyes narrowed. “I guess not, because I figured you’d have been back on the mountains for a long time by now.”
“Where? How? On the beginner’s slope?”
“No, of course not. They held a race at Brodie last winter for people with disabilities.” He saw her flinch at the word. “For people who are challenged.”
“Don’t play with the truth, Seth. For cripples. Isn’t that what you mean?” She glared at him, her breathing quick. “Do you really think I could be satisfied with that?”
“These people don’t stay on the beginner’s—”
“Damn it, you know what I’m saying! No, I haven’t skied since my accident. Why would I? I don’t want to poke along, watching out for each bump. I want to ski the way I once did. To fly down a mountain. To compete.”
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