He frowned. “Is this another attempt to save me from—”
“No. I’m curious. If you’d loved someone in Oklahoma City, you would have stayed there...” Her words trailed off because she didn’t like where the next thought was leading.
“And if I had someone here, I’d be willing to stay in Reston.”
Gemma glanced at him, then away. “Yes.”
“I’ve dated lots of women, but mostly, I’ve been alone.” His voice went soft, heavy with regret. “History, family history, the past, the sins of a father, the misery of a mother, death. They’re all too heavy to live with after a while. In my case, after eight years. I’m leaving them buried here.”
“And moving on.”
“Yes.” He sat back and asked, “How about you, Gemma? Ever been in love?”
“Sure. A couple of times, but it never worked out.”
A corner of Nate’s mouth lifted. “Is it possible things didn’t work out because those guys didn’t need to be rescued?”
“Certainly not,” she answered, instantly annoyed, but then she shrugged. “At least I don’t think so.”
“Why do you have that need, Gemma?” Nate leaned back, stretched out his legs and laced his fingers over his stomach.
She stared at him. “Are you trying to analyze me?”
“If I can tell you why I want to leave here, you can tell me why you need to rescue people.”
“I’m a nurse, I—”
“But it started when we were kids with animals and birds. Begin there.”
Gemma thought about it while he waited and watched. “My parents’ example, I suppose. There were always people at the campground, some of them were down on their luck. My dad was a pretty good mechanic so he could fix their vehicles. Mom was a seamstress, cook, carpenter, knew a lot about herbal medicine. Mom and Dad could usually come up with a plan to help them, a place where they could find a job, or an agency or charitable organization to help them.”
She sighed. “Although I can also remember my parents getting exasperated if those same people came back with the very same problems.”
“Did they help them again?” Nate asked.
“Of course, but Dad always said if they had listened and done what he said the first time, they would have been better off.”
“Or if they had been taught to do their own car repairs, carpentry and job hunting, they might not have needed help again.”
Gemma let his words sink in as she wondered if that’s what she’d been doing—jumping in and doing things for people instead of teaching them to do it for themselves? No, not in medicine. She taught mothers to take care of themselves and their babies, but outside of that? Well, maybe.
Sitting in her living room as Nathan told her about his life, things she’d wondered about for years, helped her understand him so much better—and made her love him more. Heat washed over her as the realization worked its way through her mind, past all the objections, the disagreements, they’d had.
She was in love with him. It wasn’t something she’d ever asked for and she had no idea how he felt about her, but she knew the truth had been quietly waiting for days now, lurking until she was ready to acknowledge it.
His dark hair fell over his forehead as he continued to study the rug at his feet.
Look at me, she wanted to say. I’ve got the answer. I love you. But she didn’t voice her thoughts. She hugged them to herself, knowing she would examine them later. Right now, she had to focus on what they were talking about. It took her a few seconds to remember. Oh, yes, her need to rescue people instead of teaching people to do for themselves. But they had also talked about his need after high school to get away, how he couldn’t spare time for her.
Exactly like now. He’d spent years trying to leave Reston and all its bad memories behind. He was determined to do it this time. Her feelings for him made no difference in light of his resolve to do what needed to be done and get away.
“In that case, I’m glad you got away.”
“I was pulled back by what my dad did.” Nate frowned. “It was so huge, so crooked and messed up, I couldn’t understand it. Still can’t. Brantley Clegg was the one who called me up to tell me so I wouldn’t have to hear it on the news, or read about it in the paper.” He looked up. “Is that where you heard it?”
“Carly called me and read the entire article in the Reston Weekly,” she said.
“Most people did, including everyone I worked with or had classes with. Brantley apologized for not seeing what was happening, but my dad was a master at cooking the books so it’s no surprise he wasn’t caught.”
“I understand that his crime is the reason you came back to Reston.”
“When Brantley came to see me last winter, said the Sandersons and some others were interested in reopening the hospital, it was like I’d been handed a way to make up for what he’d done—to give something in return for what he’d taken. I made a vow that I would do everything in my power to provide excellent-quality health care, make sure nothing was slipshod or less than the best—at least while I’m here.”
Gemma shifted in her chair, sure something was coming that she didn’t want to hear.
Nate’s serious gray eyes were trained on her. “That brings me to your birthing center. It’s true that when I first came back, I would have shut down the birthing center before it opened—”
“Wait.” She held up her hand. Struggling to keep hurt and anger at bay, she said, “I think we’ve got different ideas on what an apology is and I think we’re about to have a serious disagreement. Again. I need coffee before we go any further. Do you want some?” Turning away, she headed for the kitchen without waiting for his answer.
She set the coffee carafe in the sink, began filling it with water and gazed out the window, grateful to see that the rain had stopped, although that meant it would be a muggy day.
Her gaze drifted from the sky to the saturated ground, where she saw, with a jolt, that her garden looked different. It took her a few seconds to realize what had happened and then, horrified, she shut off the water. Gemma jerked open the back door and ran outside.
Her plants had been destroyed. Herbs and vegetables had all been stomped on, overturned, rooted out. She spun in a circle, surveying the devastation. Nate hurried out after her.
Gemma’s voice shook as she threw a hand out to indicate the mess and blurted the first thing that came to her mind. “Did you do this?”
“Gemma! Of course not.” Looking as if he’d been slapped, he moved closer, examining the ground.
“You’re set against me and—”
“I certainly wouldn’t do something like this. Did this happen during the night? Most likely it was wild animals. I heard there’s been a pack of wild hogs around.”
“Wild hogs? Wouldn’t they have eaten the carrots?” she asked, pointing to the vegetables scattered across what had once been neat rows. “And the beets? And wouldn’t there be little cloven hoof prints if it was pigs?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. There’s a lot of standing water here even though the dirt is soft, so the prints might have washed away. When do you think this happened?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t know when this happened. I couldn’t see anything when I got home last night because the yard light was burned out.” She looked up.
“Not burned out, broken,” Nate said, following her gaze up the twelve-foot pole to where the remains of the smashed bulb dangled from its socket.
They walked over to the base of the pole.
“Definitely not hogs unless they’ve learned to throw rocks.” Nate pointed to the dozen or so rocks and bits of broken glass scattered around—along with boot prints. He crouched to examine them more closely.
“Cowboy boots, in fact,” he said, pointing. “See the heel and th
e pointed toe?”
“Who would do a thing like this?” she demanded.
Nate shrugged. “Vandals. Kids looking to be destructive little thugs, trying to impress each other with how daring they are. Whoever it was, they had to work at it for a while if they needed to throw this many rocks.” He stood up and lifted one of his mud-caked sneakers. “Whoever it was probably carried away some of this sticky mess. I’m already three inches taller than I was when I walked into your yard.”
“I hope the rocks bounced off their worthless heads.”
Tears spurted into her eyes as she looked at the unnecessary destruction. “Thi-this was no accident,” she sobbed. “It was...per-personal. Someone targeted me.”
Nate pulled her into his arms and she quickly soaked the front of his shirt. “We’ll find out who did this, Gemma. Don’t be so upset.” He rubbed his hands over her arms and kissed the top of her head. “We can replant. Do we have to wait until the next full moon?”
That made her cry even harder. She was constantly off balance with him. One minute he was saying he would have shut down her birthing center and the next he was offering to replant her herbs. As if that wasn’t enough, she’d realized she was in love with him. It was too big, and too hard, and too complicated.
When her tears finally stopped, Nate put his hand under her chin and tilted her head back. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “We can fix this, Gemma. All it will take is time.”
The sweet taste of his lips, and his tenderness, almost undid her. Waterworks were threatening again, but she drew back and took a deep breath, forcing her emotions to settle down.
“Yes, we can.” Turning, she went in search of her phone. “But first, I’m calling the sheriff.”
An hour later, Junior Fedder had walked around Gemma’s destroyed garden, surveyed the broken light, said “huh,” about a hundred times and told her they would probably never catch the vandals. He took a picture of the boot print, wrote a few notes and clumped away on mud-caked feet.
Nathan had left because he had to get to the hospital, so their talk would have to wait. That was fine with her. She didn’t need another argument with him. And she had so much to think about. It would take time to process it all.
Besides, she had to go teach a class. She also needed to contact Misty and make an appointment for a follow-up visit when the new mother was home from the hospital in Claybourne.
Hurriedly, she changed out of her muddy clothes, ate breakfast and started for the Sunshine as the heavy rain began once again. She had to pick her way around tarp-covered piles of building supplies, but two of the mothers-to-be showed up for the class so she didn’t feel as if the morning had been wasted.
Disappointed that Yvette didn’t attend, Gemma phoned to see how she was.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” Yvette said. “But I was going to call because I don’t feel very good.”
Gemma suppressed a frustrated sigh. Sometimes no amount of reassurance could convince a woman that the mother’s care was top priority. In a cheerful voice, she said, “I’ll be right there to check on you. Get into bed and tell Cole to help you prop up your feet and legs.”
“Um, well, he’s not here right now, so...”
“I’m on my way.” Grabbing her medical bag, she hurried out through the pounding rain, grateful for her faithful Rover and its new tires.
On the way to the Burleighs’ house, she was surprised to see that the elevated road that ran between the two halves of Reston Lake had water lapping at the shoulders. She wondered how close the lake was to flood stage when she slowed her vehicle on the bridge and saw water less than a foot below the structure. Glancing up, she spotted Cole and Yvette’s house on its rise of land. She doubted it would flood, but if the water got any higher, it would be impossible to get in or out. She wondered why a road crew hadn’t been there to set up a blockade, but maybe they were more optimistic than she was about the possibility of flooding.
At the Burleighs’ house, Cole’s truck wasn’t in the driveway. Even though it would make things easier for her, she didn’t like the idea of Yvette being there alone.
When Yvette opened the door, Gemma gave her a quick once-over and was relieved to see that her ankles weren’t unduly swollen, and even though she looked tired, her color was good.
“Hello, soon-to-be mama. Let’s get you back into bed so I can check you over.” She gave her a warm smile as she glanced around. “Is Cole at work?”
“No. The sale barn is closed on Sunday.” Yvette gave her a distressed look as she lay down on her bed and arched her knees so Gemma could scoot pillows beneath them. “I—I don’t know where he is. We...disagreed. He thought he was doing something I’d like, and...” With tears in her eyes, she told Gemma about the fight. “I’ve called and texted and left messages to apologize, but he won’t call me back.”
“So you’re here alone?” Gemma asked, trying to keep her voice calm. Even though she’d known Cole was a bully, she’d never thought he was stupid. As she removed the blood pressure cuff from her bag, she glanced across the hallway at the mess in the nursery. On the other hand, maybe Cole was stupid.
“All night, I thought he’d be home any minute. He’s never stayed out all night before. I suppose I can call his parents. I know they’ll come. They’ll be concerned about the baby, and...”
“And about you,” Gemma added.
A sweet smile touched Yvette’s lips. “Yes, they will.”
“Whatever the circumstances, Yvette, you can’t be alone.”
“Okay. I’ll call them.” The tone of Yvette’s voice said she would rather be on her own, but she picked up her cell phone from the bedside table and called her mother-in-law. From the volume and length of the squawking that Gemma could hear, she guessed Mrs. Burleigh wasn’t happy that Yvette hadn’t called sooner.
When she hung up, Yvette smiled and said, “She’s right. I should have called them last night.”
Gemma finished her examination and said, “In spite of the stress you’ve been under, all the signs are good. There’s no reason to think you won’t have a safe, successful delivery of little Cole Junior.”
“David,” Yvette said, a determined light in her eyes. “I’ve always loved that name.”
Gemma nodded and squeezed Yvette’s hand. She had a policy of never getting involved in her patients’ private lives and family dramas unless they were having an adverse effect on the health of mom and baby. Yvette was so young, and with only Cole and his parents to depend on, she had seemed afraid to stand up for herself. The fond tone in her voice when she’d mentioned her in-laws, and her statement about the baby’s name, though, gave Gemma hope.
She pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed. “I’ll stay and chat until the Burleighs arrive. Can I get you anything?”
“I missed your class,” Yvette said, turning onto her side. “So tell me about breast-feeding.”
* * *
NATE HAD DONE all he could do for the day. He’d talked to everyone he needed to at the hospital, taken care of details and it still wasn’t even noon. The one thing he’d wanted to do, talk to Gemma and clear things up, wasn’t going to be possible today. As usual, he’d started out by saying the wrong thing and there hadn’t been time to make amends before she’d discovered the mess in her garden. He’d meant it when he said he’d help her replant and he hoped she believed him.
The best part of the morning had been holding her while she cried, not even caring that she was soaking his shirt. He had reveled in the feeling of his arms around her, the warmth of her skin and the tickle of her curly hair against his cheek. She was so independent, so sure of herself, so willing to rescue those she thought needed defending, including him, that he’d never thought he’d see her that vulnerable. He yearned for her in a way he never thought he would for anyone, and certainly not someone estab
lished in the town he was set on escaping.
That need clawed at him and warred with the certainty that he had to leave her once he’d fulfilled his reason for coming back.
Nate didn’t like the way things had been left. He was tired of keeping everything in. He would try again later today, or even tomorrow. She had a class to teach, and he didn’t want to stand around in the rain waiting for her, so he went home to finish up a few chores. When he opened the guest room closet to put away an extra blanket, he saw the sealed boxes he’d found in his mother’s room. Staring at the triple thicknesses of packaging tape, he realized they were never meant to be opened, but his mother couldn’t bring herself to discard the contents.
“This is as good a time as any,” he murmured. He carried the three cardboard cartons to the kitchen table, then pulled a knife from a drawer.
The layers of string-reinforced tape that had been affixed more than ten years ago had fused together. Nate had to use a sawing motion to cut through it, but he finally got the first box open, flipped back the lid flaps and stared down at a collection of baby clothes—one stack of tiny pink outfits, and one stack of blue.
“Huh,” he grunted. “I didn’t know Mom was sentimental enough to keep things like this.” He lifted out several sets of footed sleepers and realized the price tags were still attached. Also, they were all the same size, for a newborn, and had never been worn. They were from an upscale department store in Tulsa.
Nate frowned as a memory surfaced of being home alone one day after Mandy had returned. The ever-present and enigmatic Brendyce had been napping—although Nate could never figure out what she did, besides eat, to make her so tired. Mandy had gone for a walk, a “wander,” as he’d come to think of it. His mother had left early and returned to the house carrying bags from that store. She’d had him take them upstairs to her room but he’d never known the contents. He lifted out a frilly pink dress. These were things his mother had bought for Mandy’s baby, not ones she’d saved from her own children.
At Odds with the Midwife Page 17