She swallowed the insult that was no doubt on her tongue. “You’ll manage until Monday.”
“Great. It’s a date.” Miah wiggled his brows, looked at her date, and winked. “You two have fun.”
As he went inside, her voice drifted on the breeze. Pretty Boy was saying good-bye. Miah had likely ruined her night. In fact, he hoped he’d scuttled that whole disaster of a relationship. Come Monday morning, Mary Grace Smith was his.
CHAPTER 5
Jeremiah tried to stay out of her way for the first few days. He’d brush past her in the hall or catch her in the kitchen while she’d watch Caleb make them lunch. It was always Caleb’s job to do the fixing as Gray assured them it was therapy. Today, she was sitting on the barstool overlooking the oversized country kitchen the lodge was equipped with. Counters framed the hardwood floors and a massive butcher-block island anchored the space. Copper accents had been placed here and there, some original, some Miah had added after finding a sale at the hardware store. But what drew his attention was how well she fit right there in his kitchen, elbows propped and feet swinging gently beneath the barstool. “Coffee?” Miah asked.
Gray nodded then hopped off the seat and moved to the stove’s copper backsplash. “This is really pretty.”
Jeremiah turned from the coffee pot. He’d snuck down from the upstairs room he was remodeling when he heard Caleb turn on the shower. “You noticed.” He stepped behind her and heard her breath catch. Heat slid into his stomach, warming him from the inside out.
“Sorry I hadn’t noticed it before. When I’m working, I tend to have tunnel vision.” There was the tiniest quiver in her voice and he willed himself to move away. Lest she run away.
Miah leaned against the counter, a motion that offered a bit of space between them. “It’s okay. I’d prefer for your mind to be on your patient rather than on my projects. Where is he, by the way?” He knew, but didn’t want to be too obvious about keeping her company while Caleb showered.
“We walked to the lake this morning, worked up a sweat.” She reached out to take the coffee he offered.
Miah took a tiny step closer to her and sniffed. “Him or you?”
She bit back a smile. “Him. Insisted on taking a shower before making lunch. Honestly, I think he’s just stalling.”
Miah helped himself to a cup and had to admit it tasted better with the company of Gray than it did when he was alone. “Caleb always knew how to get out of work.”
She gave him a mock frown. “Not with me, he won’t. I don’t give up.”
Something about hearing her say that caused a spike of tension to work its way through Jeremiah. “I’m counting on that. How is he doing?”
Her hand went to her neck, where she kneaded the muscles on one side. He’d like to do that for her, work his hands over the creamy skin of her neck, over the gentle curve of her shoulders.
Gray seemed not to notice his interest in how her fingertips moved beneath her hair, squeezing and rubbing what must be stiff muscles. “He’s doing great. Good attitude, too. Makes all the difference.”
Yeah, Caleb lit up like a dang Christmas tree every time Gray entered the room. “Prognosis, Dr. Gray?”
She threw her head back and laughed, the sound like dark velvet curling around his bare skin. “Within a year, I think Caleb could be virtually on his own.”
Miah dropped his cup on the counter. “What?”
She blinked. “No reason he couldn’t. I mean, there will always be things that are a bit more of a challenge for him, but people live on their own with far greater disabilities. Miah? Are you all right?”
No. No, he wasn’t. And yet, he was more than all right because he’d assumed Caleb would need to live with him for the rest of their lives. And he was okay with that. Great with it.
“Miah?” Concern edged her words.
He ran a hand over his face. “I just, I . . .” What to say? “This is good. I mean, it’s great for him. I didn’t know that would become an option. But will he want to live alone?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it. It’s just the first week. I’m still learning him, you know?”
No, he didn’t really know. And she quickly picked up on that. “Miah, I don’t want to give him expectations that he’s not ready for. At the same time, he needs goals.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that before.”
“Right now we’re taking baby steps, but if I know Caleb, pretty soon, he’ll be serious about determining what he wants to accomplish.”
Her eyes sparked with an excitement and intensity that only came from loving what you do. Gray Smith, the girl he’d known. The girl he’d cut school with and TPed the principal’s house with . . . all grown up. “You’re good at this, aren’t you?”
“I’d like to think so.”
He needed to leave. Now, while things were pleasant and not quite so extreme between them. “Gray, can I ask you something?” His mouth did tend to overload his better judgment.
“Sure.” But a wariness entered her eyes.
“Are you . . . involved with someone? I mean, I know it’s none of my business and I know I saw you with the shiny veterinarian the other night, but you’re obviously not with him. I was thinking maybe you were involved with someone else and I don’t know, had a fight or something.” There. He’d said it.
Her gaze narrowed, but more honest suspicion than anger. “You’ve done a bit of thinking about my love life, McKinley.”
That much was true. Miah had spent the better part of the last several days processing what Charlee had told him about Gray having been in love with him all those years ago. At first, he’d thought it ridiculous. But judging her actions and reactions at seeing him again, well. Maybe. Just maybe. At the taco stand, she couldn’t seem to get away from him fast enough. So either she wasn’t interested in running into a past love or he reeked like dead fish. Since he hadn’t been fishing in weeks, he had to assume she was involved with someone and didn’t want Jeremiah messing anything up or confusing her emotions. The two of them had always had an unnatural bond, an inexplicable connection.
For some strange reason, the thought of her, of what could be, had kept him up at night. And then there was the look on her face—disgust, was it?—when the good doctor had brought her coat to her in the parking lot. He figured she must be in a serious relationship that had recently taken a nosedive. Maybe the doc was her boomerang guy. Miah would have liked to have fit that bill. “So, are you?”
For a long time, Gray’s attention stayed on her coffee. On the wall, the clock ticked; above them, water rushed through pipes, sending a soft white noise to fill the silence. Gray blinked. “Yes, I am.” She lifted the pottery mug to her ample lips and took a drink as if it held the power to create a wall between them.
“Tell me about him.”
She coughed into the mug. “Excuse me?”
“Tell me, Gray.” His words were soft, a request from a long-ago friend, not the kind of question an employer uttered.
Her eyes widened, rimmed with a hint of red from choking on her coffee. She stepped away from him, toward the sink, where a window overlooked Table Rock Lake. “He’s . . .” Her voice drifted away, drawn by some unnamable power. “He’s incredible. I’ve never met anyone like him and I’m fairly certain I never will again.” Her mug found its way to the counter beside the sink and her hands came together in front of her while the trees beyond the window swayed in the wintery, late-morning breeze.
“Why were you with the animal doctor?”
She chuckled. “It was an experiment. One that failed, by the way.”
Miah rubbed the back of his neck. “You can probably thank me for that.”
He’d moved closer to her, not too close, just close enough.
“No. It was a doomed proposition. I shouldn’t have accepted his invitation. But, you k
now, we went to school together and all.” Then her eyes met his and Miah watched as an apology of sorts entered first her gaze, then the rest of her body, causing each motion, each breath, to soften. It was as plain to see as if she’d said it. She was feeling bad about the way she’d treated him at their first reunion.
He should rescue her from this, but he couldn’t find the words to do it. Not with her so close and looking at him, actually looking at him instead of trying to look at everything else. There was a long strand of dark hair partially covering one of her silvery eyes. His fingers itched to reach up and touch it. Instead, he sank his hands deep in his pockets, where they couldn’t lash out and damage what little progress he was making with her.
“Miah, I’m sorry about the taco stand.”
His heart lurched, but he opted to keep things playful. “Yeah, it’s a beast when they run out.”
“That’s not what I meant. Anyway. I didn’t handle seeing you very well. I’m sorry, it’s just—”
And then his body did what his mind knew he shouldn’t. He stepped closer, trapping her between himself and the sink. “It’s just what, Gray?” He could feel heat rising up between them, heat like the stove was on, heat like a sauna, heat like . . . like there’d been on another night when he’d trapped her against a door.
A blood vessel in her throat throbbed, and Miah wanted to place a hand there, feel the force pulsing through her.
She smiled, leaned away. “It’s just that we were such good friends in high school.” One shoulder tipped up. “And since I’m in this relationship, I got scared. It would be inappropriate to pick up where we left off.”
Pick up where they left off? That would be at her doorstep, where he’d once again kissed his best friend after the rainstorm and the Gray-storm and the graveyard. It had been a night he’d never forget. And it was the last time he’d seen her. “We should talk about the graveyard.”
Panic entered her features, eyes first, then settling around her mouth. “No. We shouldn’t.”
“But—”
“Miah, it was a long time ago. A lifetime ago. Let’s just drop it, okay?”
“Is that why you didn’t want to take this job? Your guy, knowing about us, wouldn’t like you working for me?”
She threw out a long breath. “There was no us, Miah, there never was. It was one night. A—”
“A mistake?”
At that, her gaze softened, features filling with something beautiful, an emotion he’d never seen on her, a look that was morning sunlight after a long winter’s night. “No. Not a mistake. Definitely not a mistake. Just something that needs to, has to stay in the past. Can you respect that?” She was pleading now, her body language neither guarded nor careful, just hopeful.
“How can a guy be okay with you out on a date, but wouldn’t be okay with you working for a past friend?” He was just trying to make sense of it.
Gray focused on the wall behind him. “It’s complicated. We were . . . taking a break.” Her mouth twitched. A telltale sign. Gray was lying.
“And now?” He didn’t like where this was going.
“And now we are together. Permanently.”
Those words cut a slice out of Miah’s heart. “I see.” He needed to rally. Needed to at least attempt to handle this with some dignity. “So, what’s his name?”
Her mouth opened then closed.
Miah wondered when silence had gotten so loud.
She looked blank for a few moments. Gray smiled. “His name is David.”
Her eyes were full of adoration. Either this David was practically a saint or he had her completely snowed. Miah had a strong feeling it was the latter. Gray wasn’t herself when she talked about this guy and it reminded him of stories of women who were abused, women who wanted, needed, to get out of a bad relationship but couldn’t. Miah would keep his eyes open. Because at the end of it all, Gray had once been his best friend. If she needed him, he’d be there. And maybe, just maybe, in time, he could carve a place in Gray’s heart for himself. David might have her right now, but she and Miah had something that was difficult to match. They had their entire life’s history together.
Miah woke to the sound of a freight train in his front yard. Since there wasn’t a train around for miles, he leapt out of bed, grabbed his jeans, and didn’t bother with shoes; he had some boots by the front door. He tugged on a shirt as he headed downstairs.
Caleb stood in the kitchen doorway with Gray peeking around his shoulder. Caleb’s face twisted into a look that displayed all the confusion Miah felt. “What’s going on?”
Miah rushed to the door. “I have no idea.” He pulled the boots on to his bare feet and threw the door open to find a large yellow tractor and two truckloads of men just arriving. “What is this?” he mumbled, wondering if he’d somehow slipped into a weird dream.
But then he saw it. The champagne-colored Bentley pulling up in his driveway. Cold, then dread, passed from his heart to every extremity of his body as he watched the man behind the wheel pull to a stop. In a moment the car was parked and the seventy-something, designer-clothed man stepped out, long wool coat and scarf flowing in the winter wind as he pointed at the pool house with a leather-gloved hand. Without so much as a greeting, he started barking instructions.
Miah flew out of the house and stomped to his grandfather. “What do you think you’re doing?”
At that moment, the tractor barreled into the side of the pool house.
“Good to see you, too, Jeremiah.” He was tall and had thick white hair on his head like a halo. But Grandfather Havinger was no angel.
“This is private property.”
He scoffed, the lines around his mouth deepening. “Yes. Property I purchased.”
Fury settled deep in Miah’s gut. “My mother bought this property for us. You have no right to be here.”
“Yes, she did. With my money.” His red scarf caught the breeze and danced between them playfully, but it wasn’t enough to soften the stone-hard edge of the aging businessman. Instead, it gave the appearance that even the elements were subject to his orders.
Miah wanted to grab each end of the scarf, cross them, and jerk. “If you think I won’t call the sheriff and have you removed, you’re wrong.”
“Call him. Ask how his wife, Betsy, is doing. We had dinner a few nights ago. She wasn’t feeling well.” And then he smiled that broad, thick Havinger smile that had ruined men and built empires.
“You just think the whole world caters to you, don’t you?”
The man, dignified and arrogant, raised his arms. “Yes. I can see how rebuilding your pool benefits me greatly.” Grandfather Havinger leaned closer and used his politician voice. “Let’s not make this about us, Jeremiah. This is for Caleb. He needs a swimming pool for therapy.”
Miah’s heart burned because the only way Havinger could know that was from Gray. He threw a look to the front porch were she stood beside Caleb. When his gaze landed on her, she shrunk away. Smart girl.
Havinger noticed. He clucked his teeth. “Now, don’t blame the girl. I ran into her in Laver two days ago. Asked if she’d seen any of you.”
“You are not doing this.” Miah refocused his fury back on his grandfather. “If Caleb needs a pool, I’m capable of providing it.”
“Just as stubborn as your father.” Havinger stepped to his car and reached inside.
Miah didn’t want to beat the snot out of an old man, but right now he was tempted. Havinger returned to him and shoved a folder into his hand. “Get your pride out of the way and see that Caleb is more important than your hatred of me. You won’t find any pool company in the area willing to take on this task at this time of the year. I’m paying them double and pulled them off my hotel job in Branson to get this expedited.”
Miah stared at the page, a blueprint for a perfectly beautiful indoor pool. Caleb would love it.
His heart melted just the smallest bit.
“The point is, Jeremiah, Caleb needs that pool for therapy. Are you going to stand in his way?”
Miah closed his eyes. Already, Caleb was tiring of the daily ritual and its level of boring. Though his brother hadn’t complained. The pool would give him something to enjoy, to look forward to. Still, the last thing Miah wanted was Havinger insinuating himself into their lives in any way. “Only this. Nothing else. And I promise you, this doesn’t change anything between us.”
Havinger saddened, the lines around his eyes seeming to deepen. Had that statement actually hurt the marble-cold patriarch? He swallowed, and, for the first time in Miah’s life, the man looked almost frail. “They’ll be done in a few weeks.” He turned from Miah and waved a leather-gloved hand in Caleb’s direction. He also treated the younger McKinley to a rare smile.
Caleb remained stoic.
“Good-bye, Jeremiah.”
Something rushed over Miah, forcing him to take a step forward. “Charlee and I went to visit grandmother before she died.”
Havinger paused, one foot in the car. His blue eyes sought Miah. “Did she know you?” There was real pain there, and Miah thought back to the frail woman at the luxury nursing home. Tiny on the white bed, scared from the disease that had stolen her memories and filled her with apprehension.
“She thought Charlee was Mom. She didn’t know me at all. It was a couple weeks before she passed.”
Havinger’s tough outer shell cracked a bit and Miah could see the weight of losing his wife on his powerful shoulders. “Thank you.”
Miah jerked a nod.
Without another word, Havinger got in his Bentley and drove away, kicking up dust and leaving a crew of workers in Miah’s front yard.
Dear Dad,
Caleb is doing well. Wish you could see him. It’s been three weeks now and he seems to be getting stronger every day. He’s tenacious about his progress and Gray is tenacious about pushing him even further than he wants to go. I never thought about what it must be like for the soldiers who come home with debilitating injuries. Ian said the guys in his unit talked about it. We never did. How does a warrior become a patient? How does a man who months ago held an automatic weapon feel when he has to relearn how to hold a pencil? In Tampa, I watched so many of our boys—your kids, you used to call them—relearning the smallest of tasks. They are even greater heroes to me now. On the battlefield, there’s an unwritten rule about having the other guy’s back. It was no different at the hospital. Sure, sometimes one or more of them would have a bad day, but they were never alone. Their brothers in arms were right there to lend a hand or share a hug. It was the thing we know from war, but it came home with them. It was amazing to see, Dad. They’re still an army. They’re just fighting a new enemy now.
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