Noah had a hunch that might not work in his favor with Caitlyn right now. “But you didn’t plant the idea in my head,” he reminded Mick. “I did my own research. And once I saw the town, I knew it would be perfect for me and for a family. You just confirmed that for me.”
“When do you plan to fill her in?” Mick pressed.
“When the time is right,” Noah said, wishing he had the first clue about when that might be. Cait would probably be a lot more receptive if he announced that he’d joined a medical team heading to Africa.
Mick sighed heavily. “I suppose I’ll have to leave you to be the best judge of that.”
Noah smiled at his resignation.
“When’s this baby due?” Mick asked.
“December,” Noah told him.
“Okay, then. Just try to get a ring on her finger before she goes into the delivery room, okay?”
Noah laughed. “I’ll do my absolute best.”
He was no happier about the prospect of not being married when his child came into the world than Mick O’Brien was.
* * *
“Was that your grandfather I saw heading into Noah’s office a little while ago?” Jill Marshall asked Caitlyn when they crossed paths as Caitlyn was on her way to Noah’s office herself. “I thought I recognized him earlier when he was asking Dr. Davis where to find you.”
“And he was going into Noah’s office?” Caitlyn said, not surprised that he’d apparently gone straight from seeing her to see Noah, but thoroughly exasperated by it just the same. Of course the two of them were in cahoots. She’d expect no less of her grandfather. He’d found himself a natural ally, despite what he’d said about being on her side no matter what decision she made.
“Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes ago,” Jill confirmed.
“Thanks,” Caitlyn said, picking up her pace.
She tapped on Noah’s door, then opened it without waiting for his response. He was behind his desk, his back to the door, staring out the window. He was also alone.
“Company gone?” she inquired with feigned cheer.
He swiveled the chair around to face her, his expression brightening. “Hey, you. What brings you by?”
“Well, I started over here to see if you’d have time to grab lunch later. Then I found out my grandfather was closeted in here with you, so my mission changed.”
“Oh?”
“The thought of the two of you conspiring behind my back scares me, Noah.”
“We’re not conspiring,” he insisted.
“Then what are you doing?”
“Commiserating.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m in love with a woman who won’t marry me, even though we’re having a baby. He’s got a granddaughter he’d like to see married to the father of her child.”
She shook her head. “So, misery loves company,” she concluded.
“Pretty much.” His expression brightened. “You have the key to putting us both out of our misery.”
“All I have to do is say yes, shop for a white dress and walk down the aisle,” she said.
“That would do it,” he confirmed.
She sat down on the edge of the chair opposite his desk, then leaned forward earnestly. “What about living happily ever after, Noah? Where does that come in?”
“Same place it always does, after we say our vows.”
“But if we’re both not a hundred percent on board, there’s no guarantee of that.”
“Sweetheart, marriage is always a leap of faith. No matter how committed two people are, no matter how right they think the marriage is, vows don’t come with guarantees.”
“But if I say yes now, if we jump into this without a plan we can both live with, the odds against us will be huge,” she predicted. “I need the plan, Noah. I need to know how we’re going to make this work, or at least give it a fighting chance. And it can’t be with me giving up everything and you giving up nothing.”
“I know that,” he said softly.
“Then do you have a plan? A workable one? You haven’t mentioned one so far.”
“I have some ideas. I’m still working out the details.”
“And you don’t want to share these ideas of yours with me?”
“Not until they’re a little more settled.”
“How is that any more fair than me making a decision all on my own?” she asked. “Isn’t that exactly what you were afraid I might do when I went home?”
“Double standard?” he suggested wryly.
She smiled despite her mood. “At least you can see that much.”
“So, how about lunch?” he asked. “Or am I still in the doghouse for hanging out with your grandfather?”
“We can still go to lunch, but can we declare the topic of marriage off-limits? It’ll ruin my digestion.”
“I can do that.”
But even Caitlyn recognized that she was only postponing the inevitable. Marriage was clearly on the table and one of these days they were going to have to deal with it. If only she weren’t so terrified that once they talked, the only solution that felt right to her would mean walking away from the man she loved because the timing was all wrong.
6
Caitlyn disconnected the call from her aunt Bree and sighed. She’d also heard from her aunt Jess, both of her uncles—Kevin and Connor—and their wives in the past forty-eight hours. They’d all had opinions and offers of moral support. She wondered exactly how long it had taken her determined grandfather to get them all on board with his strategy. For all his talk of restraint and patience, the pressure for Caitlyn to do the sensible thing—marrying Noah—was mounting.
Drawing in a deep breath, she hit speed dial for her mother.
“Call them off,” she pleaded when Abby answered her cell phone.
“Call who off?” she asked, sounding harried.
“The O’Brien troops. Grandpa Mick has obviously called them into action and it’s freaking me out. I can’t think seriously about any of this if I have to keep defending myself and making excuses for not getting with the program. I swear to you, Mom, if this keeps up, I’m going to toss my phone into the bay, which will deeply offend Uncle Thomas. Then he’ll be on my case about pollution and recycling, which frankly would be a lot more fun than the current calls.”
Her mother laughed, which was not the response Caitlyn had hoped for. “Mom!”
“I know. Believe me, I’ve been on the receiving end of all these good intentions a time or two myself, but you’re made of tough stuff. Just let them ramble on and then do what you want to do.”
“But I don’t know what I want to do,” Caitlyn said in frustration. “Didn’t you hear me? I can’t think.”
“Where are you?” her mom asked.
“In my apartment. Thank goodness I’m not on duty today. I’m half-afraid to go to the hospital. Grandpa Mick turned up there earlier this week. I almost expected to run into Trace every time I turned a corner after that.”
Abby groaned. “I am so sorry.”
Caitlyn thought about her stepfather’s surprising silence since she’d first made her revelation. It wasn’t like him to be so quiet. “Mom, is Trace furious with me? Is that why he hasn’t added his voice to everyone else’s?” she asked, fearing the answer. She knew without a doubt that her stepfather loved her every bit as much as if she were his own. The thought of disappointing him broke her heart.
“Of course not,” Abby said with reassuring conviction. “You can thank me for his restraint. I’ve told him additional pressure won’t help and for once he’s listened.”
“Then please, please do the same thing with the rest of the family,” she pleaded. “I can’t take much more of this.”
Apparently her desperation got through
to her mom, because Abby said, “Sit tight, sweetie. I’m on my way. We’ll figure this out.”
“Now you’re going to tell me what to do?”
“As if I could. No, I’m just going to let you rant and rave till you get this out of your system and then I’m going to listen some more while you talk through your options and make your own decision.”
“You’re as bad as Noah. You’re both so blasted reasonable,” she grumbled. “If I had solutions, don’t you think I’d have acted on them by now?”
“The solutions are there. You just need to clear away all the distracting clutter.”
If only it were that simple, Caitlyn thought. But at least the person heading over to save the day was a whole lot more empathetic than the ones who’d been calling all day. At least her mom hadn’t fallen victim to Grandpa Mick’s latest machinations.
At least, she hoped not. For all she knew this could be another trap with her mom offering emotional sanctuary only to slip past her defenses. Even as the thought crossed her mind, she shook it off. No, her mom wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t conspire with Grandpa Mick.
Unless she believed in the plot, Caitlyn realized with a sigh. In which case, agreeing to this visit was going to be just one more regret in what was turning into a long list of them.
She pressed her hand against the slight bump in her belly. Not this baby, though. For all of the commotion that had ensued since the news broke, she couldn’t make herself regret the baby. It would be the best part of her and Noah. It wouldn’t hurt, though, if maybe it was just a little less mule-headed and conniving than the rest of the O’Briens.
* * *
Noah walked into Caitlyn’s apartment and found her asleep on the sofa. She looked more peaceful than she had in a while. As much as he wanted to sit in a chair and watch her sleep, maybe try some mental telepathy to get inside her head to figure out what she was thinking these days, he opted for going into the kitchen to start dinner.
In the refrigerator, he found a large container of what looked to be homemade spaghetti sauce. He knew Cait hadn’t made it and it hadn’t been here when he left this morning, which suggested a visit by an O’Brien. Either the visit had worn Cait out or left her more at peace. He wouldn’t know till she woke up. Given the unpredictability of her moods these days, there was no telling what to expect.
He put the sauce in a pan and started the water for pasta. He’d just put the finishing touches on a salad when Cait wandered into the kitchen. To his surprise she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his back.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Not too bad, if you consider that I spent the day being badgered from all sides.”
He nodded in the direction of the simmering sauce. “At least someone brought food.”
She smiled. “Mom, though I’m pretty sure Nell actually made it. And, of course, since she came with spaghetti sauce, my mother couldn’t very well deny that she’d been counting on me calling her when the rest of the family pushed me to the brink. It was the one big flaw in their plot. No plausible deniability.”
Noah laughed. “Did she even try to deny it?”
“Oh, she hemmed and hawed for a minute, then gave up. It was actually pretty interesting to watch her squirm. It kept me from tossing her right back out the door once I realized she was in on the whole plot.”
“She’s just trying to be supportive. So are all the others,” he suggested. “Do you know how lucky you are to have that much backup?”
“Of course I do,” she said. “But they’re not in your face every minute, so it’s a lot easier for you to be appreciative.”
He chuckled at that. “Who says they’re not in my face? Your uncles Kevin and Connor and your stepfather have been by the hospital.”
“Trace came to see you?” she repeated, an odd look on her face. “What did he say?”
“Not much, really. He asked a few questions about my plans, nodded and said he’d be in touch. It was actually a little disconcerting. Not two hours later Kevin and Connor invited me to join them for a drink. Call me crazy, but I sensed a connection.”
“More than likely,” Cait agreed. “Did you go? You never mentioned it.”
He nodded. “I know a command performance when one comes along. I think they left reassured. Connor and I even bonded a bit over our inability to understand women.”
Cait frowned at him. “You understand women just fine. And, as I recall, Uncle Connor was completely opposed to the whole concept of marriage thanks to my grandparents’ divorce. It kept him from marrying Heather when Little Mick was born, even though he was in love with her. If he’s bonding with anyone these days, it should be me.”
“He did mention that,” Noah acknowledged. “But then when he saw the error of his ways, Heather didn’t buy it.”
“Can you blame her? After months, actually years, of listening to him decry marriage, why would she believe any epiphany he claimed to have had? Would you if I’d awakened from my nap just now, walked in here and, out of the blue, said ‘let’s get married?’”
“I think I’d just be relieved that you finally changed your mind and wanted to make a commitment,” Noah told her.
Cait regarded him with disbelief, then rubbed her temples. “All of this well-meant advice and interference is giving me a headache.”
“Then let’s go away,” he suggested at once. It was something he’d been thinking about all day. With a little encouragement from Trace, he’d almost gone ahead and made reservations, but then he’d thought better of it. Cait didn’t need a decision about anything being taken out of her hands right now. Every bit of the control she prized most had been ripped out of her hands the instant she’d seen that positive pregnancy test. But if she did want to go away, he’d make it happen.
He held her gaze. “Come on, Cait. Just you and me. We can sit on a beach down in Florida and maybe start to hear ourselves think.”
Caitlyn’s expression turned wistful. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” She sighed. “You know we can’t do it, though. We can’t get away from the hospital for more than a day at a time and generally it’s not even the same day. We’re lucky to sit across the table from each other at dinner one night a week.”
“I know you’re right,” he said, resigned to accepting reality. “Maybe after my residency ends in June.”
“I’ll still be working, more than ever, in fact,” she reminded him. She poured herself a glass of milk, wrinkling her nose when she took the first sip. Milk might be great for the baby, but he knew she’d never been a big fan unless, of course, it came with a pile of home-baked cookies. Since her cookie jar was perpetually empty unless Nell sent up a care package, she was stuck with just milk.
“I’m glad you finally brought up the end of your residency,” she began. “I’ve been wondering what you intend to do next. It is a decision that affects both of us under the circumstances. Have you been looking into communities where physicians might be needed?”
“I made a list a few months ago and sent out some feelers,” he said. “But things have changed. Any decision I make now depends on you.”
He was increasingly enthusiastic about opening a practice in Chesapeake Shores, but would that work if he and Cait didn’t agree to marry? He’d want to be wherever his child was, though. Staying here in Baltimore was an option. Or Annapolis. But neither was the fit he’d always envisioned. A place like Chesapeake Shores was, a small community that had been unable to find a full-time family-practice doctor. Many physicians who’d been approached assumed that residents would want to head to the city for their care, according to Mick.
Cait regarded him with a troubled expression. “You’re considering sticking close to Baltimore, aren’t you?” she said, not with any hint of anxiety that he might be leaving, but more as if the idea horrified her
.
“I won’t be far from the baby,” he declared, prepared for an argument.
“But you’ve never wanted to practice in a big city,” she protested. “Your dream is to set up a practice in an underserved area, a place where you can be a real part of the community. That’s been your priority ever since I’ve known you. I thought you wanted to go to Appalachia or maybe out west someplace.”
Now was the time he should mention his thoughts about Chesapeake Shores, but he held back. “Priorities evolve,” he told her.
“Meaning mine should, too,” she said, bristling at what she had clearly inferred as a criticism.
He held up his hand. “Don’t, Cait. Nobody’s made any decisions yet. Let’s not argue over maybes.”
“So what? You want to just drift along?”
“Not indefinitely, no. But I’d rather we take our time and get it right than have either of us dig in our heels and take a position from which we can’t back down. That’s why I’ve been pushing to sit down and get all of the possible options on the table, no matter how crazy they might seem. It’s the only way I can think of that would be fair to both of us.”
Her expression turned incredulous. “You want to make lists? Maybe assign numbers and rank the choices until something emerges as a winner?”
Despite her derisive tone, he nodded. “Can you think of a way that’s any easier? If so, put it out there and we can talk about it. You’re the one who’s always claimed that lists help you to stay organized.”
“Sure. I can check off the things I need to do, like picking up the dry cleaning or getting milk at the grocery store. Little stuff.”
“Are you telling me you didn’t have lists when you were trying to decide which medical school you wanted to attend?” he asked, knowing better. There were Post-it notes all over the apartment with her to-do lists for everything, big and small.
Instead of answering, she rested her head in her hands, then finally looked up. “I hate this, Noah. I hate that we suddenly find ourselves tiptoeing around, trying not to offend each other or pressure each other or declare war on each other.”
The Christmas Bouquet Page 8