by EMILIE ROSE
“You’re being more generous than she deserves.”
“She’s your family, Adam, and family is important. You’ll never know how important until they aren’t there to love, to hate, to argue with, to hug. Never willingly cut those ties. They may not be there when you wake up and want to go back.”
“Like yours wasn’t?”
She nodded.
“Madison, I need to know if you feel anything for me or if I was just scratching an itch for you.”
The insecurity in this usually confident man’s face was hard to take. And she’d put it there. She had to ease his mind, even if it opened her up to more pain.
“No, Adam, you weren’t just scratching an itch. I tried to convince myself that was all it was. Neglected hormones running amok, or something like that. Then I blamed the attraction on your resemblance to Andrew. But it was neither of those. What I feel for you is so much more.
“I admire your integrity and the way you put your family first.” She took a deep breath. If she said it, she couldn’t unsay it. But it was a risk she had to take. “And I love you too much to take you away from them.”
Air hissed between his teeth. “You love me?”
She stared into those hope-filled blue-green eyes and prayed he could see the truth in hers. “Yes, Adam, I love you. But even if we could work out our family issues, you’ve invested your heart and soul into Mercy. I would never ask you to walk away from that.”
“Where I work doesn’t matter as long as I can come home to you each night. We’re a team, Madison. We’re best when we work together.”
She stared at him, soaking up the words and the conviction behind them and the serrated edges of her heart started to seal, giving her a sense of hope. And then the realization that she was the problem, not his family, sent her into a mental spin.
The only way she could have what her heart most desired was by leaving Quincey. She tested the idea and it didn’t fill her with panic. Instead, it filled her with a sense of freedom. Then she figured out why.
“Quincey is my hidey-hole, my safe spot where I curled up to lick my wounds and heal. Thanks to you, I don’t need to hibernate anymore. I think I’m ready to rejoin the world. If I move to a bigger practice I can help more animals...but I can’t leave my clients here in a lurch.”
“Madison, I’m not asking you to move. I’m telling you I will.”
“It’s because you’re not asking that I’m volunteering. There’s bound to be another small-town vet like me who’s struggling to make ends meet and won’t mind coming in a few days a week to supplement his or her income and care for my patients. As soon as I have Quincey’s pets covered I’ll join you in Norcross, and you can stay at Mercy.”
“But you love it here. What about your friends and your critters?”
“Adam, one thing I’ve learned is that when you find love you need to hold on tight and never let it slip away. I’ll visit Piper and June, and I’ll find homes for my critters. And then you and I can be together.”
A slow grin spread across his mouth. “You’re a very smart lady, Dr. Monroe. I love that about you.”
“And you’re a very generous man. I love that about you.” She stepped into his arms, ready to face tomorrow and determined to find a way to make this work.
“I’ll make you a deal. You look for your veterinarian. I’ll look for a job closer to Quincey. We’ll take the first opportunity we get. Either way it’s a win-win situation if we get to be together.”
He was willing to make sacrifices and so was she—they’d be equal partners in love and in life. And that was exactly what marriage should be.
“Then, yes, Adam, I’d love to marry you.”
* * *
POUNDING WOKE MADISON from a deep, satisfying sleep. She stirred and it all came rushing back. Adam on her porch. His proposal. Making love.
The knock sounded again, harder this time, clearing the remaining fog from her brain. At her front door. Friends came to the back. She checked the clock. 6:00 a.m. Then she eased out of Adam’s arms. Cool air from the ceiling fan teased her bare skin.
“What is it?” he asked in a sexy, sleepy voice that made her warm and tingly all over.
“Probably a client with an emergency patient.” She pulled on the first clothes she could find—the scrub suit Adam had removed last night.
He sat up, scrubbing sleep from his eyes like a two-year-old. “This happen often?”
The sheet fell to his waist and her mouth watered. “Often enough. Go back to sleep. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”
Finger combing her hair, she shuffled to the front door and interrupted the third set of knocks by yanking it open. Helen—the last person Madison expected to see—stood on her welcome mat with Danny behind her.
Only a disaster could bring them to her doorstep again. “What’s wrong?”
“We need to talk to you,” Helen said, then her gaze went over Madison’s shoulder. “Both of you.”
Madison turned to find Adam had followed her. Thankfully he’d put on his wrinkled clothes. She stepped back and opened the door. “I’ll start the coffee.”
“Why are you here?” Adam asked.
“Because I have the answer to all of our problems.” Helen looked quite smug when she said it, but there was also a light of excitement in her eyes and none of the animosity Madison had expected.
No one spoke while Madison bustled through getting the brew started. She was grateful for the busywork. Helen and Danny sat at the table. Adam leaned against the door frame, arms folded, his face an unwelcoming mask.
“So...what brings you here so early?” Madison prompted.
Danny grimaced. “We would have been earlier if I hadn’t insisted Helen pull over at the rest area for a couple hours. She’s a little too fond of driving the ’Vette.”
Adam straightened. “You let her drive the ’Vette?”
His father nodded. “Might want to sit down, son. She has a lot to get off her chest and a doozy of an idea that’s so crazy it might work.”
Adam remained standing. The room went silent.
Helen shuffled in her seat and studied her hands, then took a deep breath and looked up. “I owe you a huge apology, Madison. More than one. I need to back up to before you became pregnant.”
Madison didn’t want to rehash those bad days. “Helen, I don’t think—”
“Please, this is important. I can’t live with this on my conscience a moment longer.” Desperation clouded Helen’s eyes.
Madison gulped and nodded for her to continue.
“Andrew always came to me with his problems. And...he thought you’d become one of them.”
“He lied,” Adam stated starkly.
“Yes, son, I know that. Now. He blamed Madison for making him look bad at work when he really needed to change his own lazy ways. You earned all those accolades because you never took shortcuts. I know this because your fondest mentor—” she nodded toward Danny “—used to tell me stories of what you’d done and how hard you worked. But back then I didn’t listen to your boss. All I did was worry about my boy and how he measured up.”
The torment in Helen’s eyes was hard to take. “Helen, you don’t have to—”
“Let me finish, Madison. Then if you want me to never speak of it again, I won’t. Andrew claimed all you cared about was your career. You put it ahead of everything, including him. I hated seeing him so upset. And then I made a critical error.” She ducked her head and fussed with the seam of her pants. “I told him that would change when the babies came along.
“And then he announced your pregnancy a few months later. From his cocky tone, I suspected even then that the surprise pregnancy might’ve been a surprise only to you.”
Shocked, Madison searched for words. “You knew?”
The pain in the woman’s voice was more than Madison could bear. She placed her hand on top of Helen’s. “You can’t take the blame for Andrew’s actions.”
“I knew my son and his weaknesses. If I hadn’t said what I did then—”
“No. Stop. If Andrew twisted your words to suit his purposes, that’s not your fault. Your comment to him would have been true if he’d waited the five years we’d agreed upon. In fact, that’s why I wanted to wait until I was established in the practice—so I could afford to take time off with our child. Andrew’s choices were not your fault,” she repeated when Helen’s doubtful expression didn’t change.
“How can you be so nice when I’ve been such a bi—witch?” Tears brimmed in her eyes.
Sympathy wound around Madison like a kudzu vine. “Because I know what it’s like to live with guilt. We each have different methods of coping, but we’re reacting to the same stimuli—pain and fear. You strike out when you’re hurt. I curl into a defensive ball. You pushed me away because seeing me reminded you of Andrew. I buried myself in Quincey, hoping no one would discover I was responsible for my husband’s and son’s deaths. Guilt tore me up, robbed me of sleep and appetite, and it fixed nothing.
“You have to let it go, Helen. Andrew and Daniel are gone. Nothing you or I can do will bring them back. The only thing left to do is not be afraid to move forward and live your life. And don’t be afraid to love again.” She met Adam’s gaze and found love, support and approval reflected back at her. “Adam taught me that lesson.”
He crossed the room and took her hand in his. “Mom, Dad, Madison has agreed to marry me. She’s going to find someone to operate her practice, and I’m going to look for a job up here. We’ll end up wherever the first opportunity arises.”
Danny laughed. “Funny you should mention that. Your mom has the answer.”
Excitement replaced the grief in Helen’s eyes. “I do. Madison, if you’re willing, I want you and Danny to swap practices.”
“What?” Madison and Adam said simultaneously.
“I’ve been so morose and negative since...the funeral that Danny has been hiding in his office to avoid me. Our marriage has suffered. He’s been trying to make me happy by giving me things when all I really want is time with him. I want him to cut back on his hours so that we can get back to the ‘us’ we used to be. The best way to do that is for him to take over Madison’s patients.
“And, Madison, you can quit wasting your talents here in the country and take over Danny’s practice, where you’ll be challenged. That way everyone gets what they want.
“I get my husband back and Madison gets someone she can trust to look after her patients and her family of strays. And Adam gets to keep the job he loves and have the woman by his side who couldn’t be more perfect for him if I’d picked her myself.”
Dumbfounded, Madison couldn’t speak. It was as if everything she’d ever dreamed of and more was being offered on a silver platter.
“What does Dad get out of this deal?” Adam asked.
“I get the love of my life back and plenty of time to tinker. Madison’s barn has room for me to set up a shop. What do you say, Maddie? Care to swap practices?”
Hope and happiness welled up in her throat. She looked across the room to her future husband, then to Helen and Danny and nodded. “This is what families are supposed to do. We help each other out, but more important, we never, ever, stop loving one another.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from REMEMBERING THAT NIGHT by Stephanie Doyle.
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PROLOGUE
“ALL IN.”
Greg looked at his opponent across the table. He watched the man’s eyes drop to the table. Watched him slow his breathing. Watched him try to erase every visible tell.
A regular poker player with years of experience no doubt. The old man had to be nearing seventy if he hadn’t already gotten there. His face was weathered. His teeth a hard yellow from years of smoking. Yeah, Greg was fairly certain this wasn’t his opponent’s first time in Atlantic City. It probably wasn’t even his first time putting what amounted to over ten thousand dollars up for gamble.
If Greg folded his cards, he would still leave the table up several thousand dollars. If he called and lost, he would lose both his stake and his day’s earnings. How many hours of play time was it? Ten? Twelve? He’d lost track at some point, but it sure would be a shame to have wasted all that time for nothing.
If he called and won then the world was his. At least for a moment.
Greg reached for his glass and took a shot of the subpar Scotch the casino provided. At one time in his degenerate life he would have insisted on only the best. Given his faithful patronage, the managers would have seen to it immediately. Plus they would have comped him a room and a meal, as well. Back in his Vegas days.
Before they’d figured out who he was. Before they’d ejected him.
Now AC was his last remaining haunting ground. The Grande was the last casino he could still play in. Once it ended for him here—and it would end because it always did—he would have to find Native American reservations nearby or private high-stake games.
Pathetic.
“Well? Are we doing this?”
His opponent was getting impatient. The man had asked the question with a laconic ease. Not a tremor in his voice. Not a measure of fidgeting in his body to give away his thoughts. No, he’d done a good job controlling his body language.
It was a shame he’d never really had a chance. Not against Greg.
Because Greg didn’t fold and walk away. Greg didn’t call and lose ever. Greg only ever called and won because Greg knew the outcome of the game before he placed the bet.
The man was bluffing.
“Call.”
Then it happened. The man’s lip twitched, his nostrils flared. He turned over one ace, which paired the turn, giving him a pair. His other card was a valueless ten.
Greg turned over his pocket jacks which wouldn’t have won had there not been another jack on the board. Trips beat a pair every time.
The dealer acknowledged the cards, pushed the chips toward Greg and there it was. That feeling of satisfaction.
It didn’t come from winning. Or from the money. It came from knowing that he’d been right. Again. That was his only thrill. That was what kept him coming back, day after day.
Tired of sitting and playing, Greg figured he’d had enough for one day. He piled his chips into a plastic holder. “Nice hand,” he offered his opponent, but the man only sneered at him.
He cashed in his chips and bundled the large bills into a roll he shoved into an inside pocket in his leather coat. He left the poker room, found the elevator to the parking garage and as he traveled up to the second level he wondered what time of day it was.
What time had he started? In the morning but not so early. It had to be night. Not that it mattered. He’d go home, shower, maybe sleep for a few hours and then do it all over again. Whether he did that during the day or at night wasn’t a concern.
It was quite a ritual he’d carved out. He’d make the drive from Philadelphia to AC. Find a table of players. Then read them until he could tell when each one was lying. In poker once you knew someone was bluffing—really knew it—all you had to do was wait for the cards to fall your way and then take them.
He wouldn’t call it cheating. Poker was a game of skill after all. If a person could defeat Greg’s particular lie-detecting skills, then Greg would lose. So far that hadn’t happened.
What a freaking awesome life he had.
Greg put his head down and hunched his shoulders slightly to diminish his height as he made his way to his car. AC wasn’t a safe city but the casinos prided themselves on keeping the criminal element out of their rooms and garages. As long as you didn’t venture out onto the streets or to the dodgy end of the boardwalk you were as safe as you would be in any major city.
Still, a man with over ten thousand dollars in cash in his pocket couldn’t be too careful and anything he could do to keep from standing out was smart. Despite keeping his head down, though, he kept his ears open. It’s why he heard the clicking sound of shoes hitting cement and felt the hair on the back of his neck rise before someone called his name.
“Mr. Chalmers? A word with you please.”
Greg pulled out his keys and hit the lock button. Two rows up he could see his car lights flash on. He drove a black Porsche 911 because a man had to do something with all his winnings. Sadly he knew he wasn’t going to make it to the car. Two rows away was probably one row too far.
The clicking shoes sped up and in an instant two men were standing between him and his escape. Two very large men with thick necks and beefy hands. He’d met their type before. At the Bellagio and the Wynn in Vegas.
At the Borgata in AC and the Golden Nugget just last week.
“Guys, it’s been a long day. I just want to go home.”