by Fiona Lowe
“Only in July and August.” He dropped the file back on his desk. “Helen and Mason have it covered the rest of the year.”
Josh hadn’t met Mason, although the hospital staff mentioned his name often. “If this guy Mason’s got it covered, why the hell isn’t he on the schedule?”
Floyd took a postcard off his corkboard. “Right now he’s in Tahiti, but he’s coming back.”
Incredulity drenched him. “You gave him time off during our busiest time?”
Floyd looked uneasy. “Not exactly. He had to quit to do this travel, but he’s coming back.”
He glared at him. “When?”
“He’s an excellent physician’s assistant, and believe me, we don’t want to lose him.”
He tried to keep a leash on his fast-fraying temper. “So you’re keeping a job open for a guy who’s not here but you’re letting Millie leave?”
Floyd’s mouth settled into an intransigent line. “We need a nurse practitioner in the clinic all year.”
Josh immediately thought about Katrina. His idea of asking her to work full-time at the clinic had stalled in the face of Bonnie’s death. Could he ask her now? Was a month since her mother’s death long enough? He didn’t know.
She’d started back as the diner’s breakfast barista a week after the funeral, and she’d been working with her father at Coulee Creek. She still came and went at the cottage when it suited her, and he missed her when she wasn’t there. By her own admission she was “doing okay,” but he’d been leery of asking anything of her just yet. With grief, it was a balancing act and timing was everything. Ask too early and get a no. Ask too late and discover she was going elsewhere to work.
He wanted her to take this job because it meant she’d stay in Bear Paw, and the idea of her leaving wasn’t something he wanted to think about. “If I can find a nurse practitioner for the clinic, will you give Millie the ER job?”
Floyd looked skeptical. “Good luck with finding someone, Doc.”
—
KATRINA set down her book and walked over to Josh, who was sitting on the couch, quietly swearing at his computer. “Problems?”
She’d invited herself over to the cottage and cooked supper for them both, because apart from the animals, Coulee Creek was empty tonight. Her dad had left on horseback this morning with Beau, Dillon, Hunter and Lanky to check the cows in the far north pastures, close to the Canadian border. They were sleeping out before returning tomorrow, and Megan had gone to Bozeman for a few days to visit friends. The idea of being alone in the ranch house had sent her and Boy over to the cottage.
To Josh.
She hated that since Bonnie’s death, her own company wasn’t enough. And she worried she was leaning on Josh more than she should. Although superficially nothing had really changed between them—they still had an informal arrangement about getting together—underneath the surface everything had changed. Over the last few weeks, he’d been there for her in her darkest hours, soothing her with his caring and thoughtfulness.
The arrogant guy she’d accused him of being so many weeks ago was totally absent with her. He was considerate to the nth degree, and in so many small and everyday ways he brought light into the darkness of her soul. She was struggling to imagine her life without him in it, and loving him was as hard as she’d expected it to be, especially as he’d not shown any indication that he wanted anything between them to change. For her, however, everything had changed.
He tilted his head back from the screen and looked up at her. “I’m trying to send Dad the video we took at Logan Pass, but the connection keeps cutting out.”
Vivid pink, blue and green lights danced across the screen, hinting at the phenomenal natural light show they’d been awed by on the night of her mother’s funeral. She’d watched it thinking it was her mother’s way of telling her everything was fine in heaven.
“Your dad?” She couldn’t hide the surprise from her voice.
“I called him to catch up just before . . .”
She recognized his horrified expression. “Mom died.” She squeezed his shoulders. “You can talk about her without me falling apart, Josh. In fact, I want to hear her name and hear people talk about her, otherwise it’s like she didn’t exist, and that’s worse.”
“Sorry.” He put his hand on hers and pulled her around so she was sitting next to him. “By the way, I took your suggestion of inviting him and Mom here for Thanksgiving, but as I expected he said no.”
Sadness for him flittered through her. His family was so very different from hers. Not that hers was perfect, but despite their disagreements, they usually pulled together on the big things. “But you’re sending him that video?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
An ironic look wound its way across his cheeks and kicked his mouth up on one side. “Because although we can’t talk about anything to do with medicine without Dad turning it into a competition or a rant about how I should be doing surgery, it seems we apparently share an interest in the night sky.”
Astonishment made her voice squeak. “You never knew?”
He shook his head. “Did not have a clue. I know we’re never going to be close, but he did ask to see a video of the northern lights if I saw them. Now the crappy Bear Paw Internet is letting me down.”
It was the first time in quite a while that Josh had shown his frustration about Bear Paw’s lack of amenities. “So mail him a flash drive.”
“Good idea. I never thought of that. Thanks. I’ll try and get to the post office tomorrow.”
“If it helps, you can give it to me and I’ll take it after I’ve finished at the diner.”
“That would be great.” His eyes lit up. “Can you pick up my shirts from Pressed to Impress?”
The request surprised her. “I guess.”
“Great.” He kissed her on the cheek. “There’s also an order of my favorite cheese at the grocery store and I haven’t been able to get there, so if you can do that, too, that’d be awesome.”
A vague irritation rippled through her. “I did have some plans for my day, Josh,” she said, striving not to sound prickly.
“It’s just three errands in the same block.” His tone was practical. “The time it will take will be faster than what it took me to drive to my deli in Chicago.”
He had a point and she tried to shrug off the feeling of being used, but Brent’s voice penetrated her thoughts.
Trina, your schedule is easier to change than mine.
You book the hotel. I’m caught up, babe, you buy the theater tickets.
“Except, Josh, you haven’t factored in the fact that there’s no dash-in, dash-out component in Bear Paw. Each place involves at least a ten-minute conversation about how I’m doing, how Dad’s doing, how Mom is greatly missed and so it goes on.” She stood up, needing to move and shake off these unwelcome feelings of being used. “I’ll go make us some tea.”
He caught her hand and pulled her back down to the couch, his face contrite. “Hey, don’t worry about the shirts and the cheese. I’ll arrange to have them dropped off at the clinic.”
His reasonableness made her feel foolish. “No, it’s fine. I’m sorry.” She hated that she’d let memories of Brent intrude in this way. “I guess I feel because I’m not out there saving lives, you think my time is less important.”
“Not at all, but it sounds like you’re thinking that.” He turned to face her. “I’ve been thinking it’s time you came back to nursing. I want you to work full-time as the clinic nurse.”
Stunned, she blinked at him. “What about Millie?”
“She’ll move to the ER.”
The idea had some appeal, but at the same time flutters of apprehension stirred her stomach. “Do you think it’s wise?” His blank expression made her clarify. “I mean, you and me working together when we’re . . .” And that was the problem. She no longer knew what they were exactly.
“Sleeping together?” He cupped her cheeks in his hands
and traced the line of her cheekbones, the touch soft but electric. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that as well.”
Her heart kicked up at his touch and the affectionate smile in his eyes—a smile that said you’re special. After the amazing way he’d cared for her recently, she’d had moments when she’d wondered if he loved her, too, but for her own well-being, she’d put a restraint on hope. Now hope knocked loudly and encouragingly, and she tried not to squeal in anticipation.
She licked her lips and tried to sound composed. “Oh?”
He nodded as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. “I’d like you to move in with me.”
The bald words sounded in her head as loud and deafening as the clang of a cathedral bell. Hope teetered, fast needing reassurance. She cleared her throat. “Move in with you?”
“Yes.” Grinning, he leaned in, the dimple in his chin deep and appealing, and then he kissed her.
Everything inside her deliciously loosened, and she felt herself sliding toward that wonderful place he always took her. Not yet. With a huge effort, she pulled her body and mind back from the addictive and intoxicating promise of the kiss. “So I move in and what, exactly?”
His brows pulled down in confusion. “We live together. Share a house. Be a couple.”
Be a couple. There was no ambiguity there—an offer of commitment or marriage wasn’t on the table. Something soft inside her turned to stone. “A mutually exclusive couple?”
This time shock lit up his eyes. “Shit, Katrina. I’m nothing like that prick, Brent. Of course we’re mutually exclusive.”
“I guess that’s something,” she muttered. Her heart hammered so hard she felt light-headed, but she pushed on, needing answers—needing to know his plans. Perhaps she had misunderstood. “Exactly how long are we going to live together for?”
“For as long as it works.”
Her breath caught in her throat as any remaining hope crashed and splattered like a melon hitting pavement. “That’s a positive approach.”
He stiffened. “Given what we’ve both been through recently, it’s the sensible thing to do.”
“Sensible?” She knew she was sounding like a parrot, repeating everything he said, but his attitude both stunned and devastated her. “How is this sensible? You’ve given up on us before we’ve even started.”
“No.” He shook his head hard. “I’m taking things slowly.”
“If we’d taken things slowly,” she said, her voice rising, “we wouldn’t have been having sex for the past three months.”
He reached for her. “I want us to be together.”
Relief softened the stone in her gut. “I want us to be together, too.”
Reassurance rippled through his eyes and he visibly relaxed. “Good, because for a moment there I thought we had a problem.”
Brent’s smooth voice oozed back into her mind. Trina, with some compromise and understanding on your part, we can still make this work.
Her breath turned solid in her lungs and every part of her cramped. Oh God, it was happening again. Despite Josh’s convictions, he was more like Brent than he knew. How hard was it for any man to compromise and put her first?
She stood up, putting distance between them, because whenever Josh touched her, she couldn’t think straight. Right now she needed absolute clarity. “We do have a problem.”
He tilted his head, contemplation making two lines on the bridge of his nose appear. “You don’t think it’s a good idea to live and work together?”
She wanted to cry at his total lack of comprehension. “That’s the least of it, Josh. You want us to live together.”
He frowned. “Is this a religious problem?”
“No!” She wanted to shake him. “It’s a commitment problem.”
He looked genuinely confused. “I am committing. I’m committing to the next level of our relationship.”
“The next level? What are we? A computer game?” She started pacing, unable to believe what she was hearing. “You’ve been engaged before, Josh, so you obviously know how to visualize a future and make a pledge to someone.”
A stony expression crossed his face. “And you know how well that worked out.”
His words hailed down on her like ice—jagged and sharp. “So what you’re really saying is that you’re not prepared to make a commitment to me?” Her heart staggered as pain gripped it. No one commits to me.
“I’m not saying that at all. I’m offering us a chance.”
“A chance? So now we’re relationship gambling? We spin the roulette wheel and see where it lands?”
His nostrils flared as tension squared his shoulders. “If the word chance offends you so much,” he said, with an edge of arrogance to his voice, “what about opportunity?”
Fury at him raged through her. “It’s only an opportunity for you, Josh. You’ll have someone to come home to after a long day, decent food on the table, someone to collect your shirts and your stinking cheese—”
“That’s not fair, Katrina. I—”
But she refused to listen. “I’ll tell you what’s not fair, Josh. It’s me living with you and never knowing if we’re going to reach”—she made air quotes—“‘the next level’. And speaking of levels, what are they, exactly? Do we ever get to skip a level if we’ve collected enough gems or zombies? Do we start by sharing my house, then if I keep it tidy we might start sharing a bank account and oh, and then what, a child?”
“Are you done?” His mouth was tight, and the detached air he’d worn so often when he’d first arrived in town—an air that had faded to nothing over the weeks—was now firmly back in place. “I have a three-year contract in Bear Paw, Katrina. Making plans beyond that is pointless.”
The noise in her head muted and her anger dissolved as understanding dawned. She walked over to him, lacing her fingers in between his. “I’m not Ashley, Josh, and I’ve moved away from Bear Paw before. I could do it again.”
His eyes glinted at her, a hard and blinding silver. “So you’ll follow me anywhere a job takes me?”
She thought about her hopes and dreams of having a child and she automatically ruled out Africa. “When your contract’s up, we can discuss all the options.”
“No.” He pulled his hands away. “I’ve heard that before and it’s code for I’m not moving.”
Her anger flooded back. “So we’ve drilled right down to the truth now, haven’t we? There is no next level after ‘let’s move in together.’ It comes with a predetermined end date in three years’ time.”
“I’m not saying that.”
“No?” Her sarcasm dripped from the word. “You’re not offering me a future, either. You’re hedging your bets and asking me to put my life on hold for you. You’re calling all the shots and I’m making all the concessions.”
Like every other man. The future she hadn’t allowed herself to think about now lay smoldering in a pile of blackened, twisted dreams. She sucked in a breath in an attempt to steady her breaking heart. If she’d thought Brent had hurt her, she’d been wrong. His lies and betrayal were nothing compared with this anguish and pain that pulsed through her. Brent was a self-serving bastard. Josh was not, and it made everything ten times worse.
He wanted her but he didn’t love her. Three months ago that had been enough. Now it didn’t come close. She deserved more but he couldn’t give it, and past experience told her that wasn’t going to alter. Even though they’d reached the end of a very short road and she knew nothing would change his mind, she needed to tell him exactly how she felt. No matter how hard it was going to be or how much it would cost her, it was the only way forward. The only way that gave her some hope of finding a sort of peace in the future.
She wrapped her arms around herself to try and stop her body shaking. “I’m almost thirty, Josh, and I don’t have time to wait or waste. I want a relationship where I’m not on tenterhooks wondering if it’s going to end tomorrow or really start. I want a marriage and I want a baby. I’m do
ne with men using me to make their life more exciting or comfortable, fitting me in around their lives and their wives, at their convenience. If you can’t love me and commit to me now, there’s no point continuing with this conversation.”
—
KATRINA’S quiet words slammed into Josh, bringing fear and stirring up resentment. He hated ultimatums—Ashley had specialized in them, hurling them at him at every turn, whether it was a dispute over towels left lying on the bathroom floor or full-blown arguments about their future. He’d thought Katrina was different.
“Suddenly you want me to marry you?” The calm he’d been trying to hold on to vaporized and he shot to his feet. “What the hell happened to ‘just using each other for sex’?”
Her head fell forward and she stared at her feet. Slowly, she raised her gaze to his, her face filled with self-loathing. “I fell in love with you.”
Poleaxed, he struggled to speak. “I . . . I had no idea.”
Her beautiful mouth grimaced. “Believe me, I tried my very best not to.”
The quiet and heartfelt words filled with pain made him ache. He didn’t want to hurt her, but that had already happened. “I’m sorry.”
Her eyes closed for a brief moment, and when she opened them, he saw her love for him—raw and wounded. “Not as sorry as I am.”
Her pain hit him at a visceral level, and he flinched, hating himself and angry with her. She wasn’t supposed to have fallen in love with him. Hadn’t he been up front from the very start about what he did and didn’t want? This wasn’t his fault.
Don’t say that. Say something that helps. “I really like you, Katrina. I value our friendship—”
“Stop.” She held up her hand, grinding out the words. “Do. Not. Say. Another. Word.” She crossed the room and picked up her purse before opening the door. “Come on, Boy.”
The old dog stood, his tail wagging, and walked over to her.
He rounded the sofa to reach her, torn that she was leaving but knowing he couldn’t give her what she wanted. He’d given Ashley everything and that had ended in disaster, and he wouldn’t be held to ransom. But he despaired at the thought of them not being friends. “Katrina, please don’t leave like this.”