by Robin Gianna
At the beginning, he’d planned not to say a word about it to her. About all they’d lost and what she’d done. He’d been sure it was long behind him—until this week. And he couldn’t even put the blame on her for stirring all their history up again.
He was the one who’d brought up the past—first at Pooky’s, then right there in the store parking lot, like a fool, for some reason unable to control the need to get it off his chest. Then he’d made her cry. God, he hated to see her cry, and even as she’d infuriated him he’d kissed her without thinking, wanting to somehow stop the tears that weren’t even flowing anymore.
And then...?
Despite getting beaned by Mika’s cup, and the kiss lasting only a nanosecond, he’d wanted more. He’d wanted to pull her warm curves close against his body, to feel how she’d always molded perfectly against him; to mindlessly kiss her for real until neither of them could breathe, right in front of Mika and whoever else might be watching.
Just that tiny taste of her lips had sent bittersweet memories surging through his heart and his body, making him remember how much he’d loved her, how close they’d been, how she’d once been his—making him remember how sure he’d been that she’d be his lover and his soulmate, his life partner forever.
But all that was ancient history, and now that he’d told her how he’d felt when she’d left he had no intention of revisiting it again. Rory had made a new life for herself, and he’d made the life he’d always wanted here in Eudemonia, even though she’d abandoned it. Now, with Mika bringing new joy to his life, he was one step closer to the full dream. His plan of having the lifelong love of a woman and children of their own right here where he’d been born and raised.
Rory was no longer that woman—and the less contact he had with her while she was here, the better for both of them. But fate seemed to keep throwing them together anyway.
He put away the food and supplies he’d bought, and couldn’t help but think about Rory doing the same thing at her mother’s house—lugging multiple jugs of water and all kinds of things into the cellar. Wendy Anderson was pretty independent, but through all the years Rory’s dad had been sick it had been Rory who’d kept the place running, even coming home from college every month to make sure her parents had everything they needed.
After her dad had died, her mother had accepted that there were things she needed help with. Letting some of the teens and the men in town chop firewood and do heavy lifting around her house made it easy for her to live there alone—a good thing, since by then Rory had been long gone.
That kind of community was just one of the reasons to live in Eudemonia. Everyone knew everyone else, and while that was sometimes a bad thing, mostly it was good. The folks in town took care of each other. Anchorage had been plenty big enough when Jake had gone to college and medical school there. He couldn’t imagine living in a place like Los Angeles, where you probably didn’t even know your next-door neighbor.
Could that be part of why Rory had chosen it? Had she wanted to be anonymous? Able to disappear into a crowd? She’d said people looking at her, talking about her after she’d lost the baby, had been among the reasons she’d felt she had to leave. He’d never thought about that, but she’d always been so strong he was surprised she’d let that bother her.
It didn’t matter anymore. She had her life and he had his, and there was nothing else to say. No more conversations about their past and how he’d felt, because it wouldn’t accomplish anything other than to upset them both.
* * *
“Hi, Jake,” Ellie said as he walked into the clinic. “I see you brought your king-size coffee cup with you this morning. Bad night? Did Mika keep you up?”
“No, he slept great.” He sure wasn’t going to tell her it had been reliving his argument with Rory a couple days ago that had kept him tossing and turning these past two nights. “You have the patient list for the day?”
“Here. Not too many, so hopefully we’ll have some emergencies to keep us busy.”
“I wonder what the locals would think about their clinic assistant gleefully hoping for illness and injuries to keep her from being bored?”
Ellie laughed and handed him the list before she sat down behind the front desk. Jake scanned the paper, surprised to see Wendy Anderson’s name listed. Probably Rory had scheduled it quickly, so they wouldn’t see one another again too many times before she left, and the way his heart bumped told him it was a very good thing to get it over with. Maybe, with any luck, that meant she wouldn’t be coming to Mika’s party after all.
He’d seen three patients before he moved toward the exam room where Wendy and Rory waited. His heart gave another weird kick, which annoyed the hell out of him. Why did he keep feeling this way when he kept reminding himself how stupid and pointless it was to get all riled up about her?
The moment he opened the door his attention moved involuntarily to the woman sitting in the chair next to the exam table instead of his patient, the way it should. Like before, the overhead light skimmed over her shining hair, and her green eyes lifted to meet his for a split second before she cast them down, then toward her mother.
Her uncomfortable expression told him she was remembering the anger, frustration and resentment that had spilled out at the parking lot. Maybe she was also remembering the electricity that had zinged from the briefest touch of his lips to hers, the way it was coming to his mind as he looked at her beautiful mouth.
Damn it.
He moved his attention to Wendy and forced a smile. “How are you feeling?”
“A little better, I think. Aurora keeps telling me that when your body’s been cut open it’s normal for it to hurt until it heals. And since it split open again something awful I’m having to heal all over again. I’m trying not to complain and to remember that it’s slowly getting better.”
“She’s getting around better than I expected she would,” Rory said. “I’ve been looking at the old sutures, and the new ones we did, and they look good. But of course you should see what you think.”
“The type-A surgeon is offering to step back and let the general practitioner give his opinion? Now there’s a shock.” He couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows in utter surprise. “You’re evolving.”
“And apparently you’re not—still wanting to annoy me at any opportunity.”
Her small smile took any sting out of the words, and the tightness in his chest loosened as he smiled back. “Never claimed to be. But, since you’re setting such a good example, I’ll give evolving a try.”
A moment of silence followed, and Jake was filled with a confusing mix of feelings. He was glad they could share light banter like this, even while he was still feeling they hadn’t truly finished their heavy conversation from a couple days ago. Except he’d decided there was no point, hadn’t he?
He turned to Wendy. “It’s good to remind yourself that you’re getting better all the time. But you know what? It’s okay to complain, too. I remember Rory used to complain about all kinds of things—like the kids who teased her at school, or that the bike she had that was pink when she wanted a bike a boy would ride.”
“I’d forgotten that,” Rory murmured.
Another small smile tugging at her lips made him feel glad he’d said something to take their minds off their last conversation and all the bad stuff from the past, way back to the fun times when they were kids.
“I spray-painted it blue and black and hand-painted a few swords on it. I didn’t realize until years later how awful it looked.”
“My Aurora usually did want to run with the boys, didn’t she? Always a spitfire, my little marshmallow girl.”
“Yeah, she was. I had to keep her from punching some of those boys in the nose when they teased her. Which was mostly self-preservation on my part. I figured if she got into a real fight I’d have to jump in and beat them up, which wasn’t something I
was particularly keen to do.”
Her gaze lifted to his again as a wry smile twisted her lips. “I was a trial to you, wasn’t I?”
Not for most of their relationship. Just at the end.
“Not a trial. An amazing mix of tough little girl and sweetness and adventure and generosity, all wrapped up in a beautiful package. You were like nobody else in that whole school. You were special.”
The minute the words were out of his mouth he felt a little foolish. Going down memory lane wasn’t advisable—particularly when those memories involved the way he’d felt about her back then, and so many of the years that followed.
“Well, thank you. And a belated thank you, too, to the boy who stood up for me in fourth grade, when I was the fish out of water in a public school setting. You were my hero from that moment on.”
Their eyes met again and he felt a strange expansion in his chest, as though her words meant something, even though she’d told him something similar many times before. Maybe this was the kind of closure they needed. Compliments to one another...an acknowledgment of what they’d meant to one another before life had got in the way and they’d moved on. It would put a positive ending to the chapter that had had such an abrupt, upsetting and unsatisfactory conclusion nine years ago.
He forced himself to go into doctor mode, asking Wendy a few more questions, taking her vital signs, drawing blood, and looking at her incision. When he was finished he gave her directions on what should happen next.
“Want me to write this down for when Rory is gone? Any word on when your sister is coming to take over?”
“I’m not sure. Aurora...?”
“Aunt Patty’s taking this Friday off, so I’m planning to—”
A muffled ringing sound came from the purse on the floor next to the exam bed. Wendy tried to reached down for it, and Rory picked it up and gave it to her.
“Here. But you should let it go, Twinkie,” Rory said. “We can’t keep Jake waiting while you yak. You can see who it is after we’re done here and call back.”
“It might be Linda, wanting to know what time to come over with supplies to make the gourd birdfeeders. We’re going to give them to everyone before winter.”
“It’s okay—go ahead and answer, then we’ll finish up,” Jake said, since the elderly woman looked a little distressed about not answering.
With a disapproving frown, Rory fished the phone from her mother’s purse—then frowned even more when she looked at the screen. “It’s Aunt Patty.”
“Helloooo, sis!” Wendy said, taking the phone and smiling broadly. Her smile faded as she listened, morphing into a worried frown deeper than Rory’s. “That’s terrible! Oh, dear, of course I understand. Don’t worry at all. Aurora will be here for a few more days—and I’m doing pretty well, considering. I’m sure Linda and some of the others will check on me and bring food until I’m feeling up to fixing it myself. It’s fine. Please give him a huge hug and kiss from me—and Aurora, too. Tell him we’re hoping he gets well soon.”
“Wait! Let me talk to her.” Rory reached to grab the phone, but her mother hung up before she could get it.
“Well, that’s just terrible news!” Wendy said. “Owen was injured during a training mission at the base. Broke his arm, and his ribs, too. He’s in the base hospital, but they’re going to release him tomorrow. She’s going to have him come to her house to get better and she’ll take care of him there.”
“So she’s not coming here?” Rory said in a grim voice.
“No, but that’s okay. I’m sure Owen needs help a lot more than I do. I’ll be fine, Aurora. Don’t you worry. I’m moving around okay, don’t you think? You said so. And you need to get back to LA for that job interview. I know it’s important to you.”
“Yes, it is...”
Jake saw her chest heave in a big sigh and their eyes met, hers telegraphing the same thing he was thinking. Her mom shouldn’t be left alone just yet, and the amount of time Rory would be here had probably gotten a week longer.
“But I can’t leave you alone, Twinkie. I was thinking I should stay a little longer anyway, to be honest. I’ll call the hospital and hope it won’t be a problem to postpone the interview again. Unless you’re willing to come to LA with me? Are you still considering it?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I guess I’m thinking about it. But there are things here I need to do. The gourds and the Halloween decorations. Our Bunco tournament next month.”
Another long, audible sigh left Rory’s lips in response to her mother’s statement, and Jake felt like sighing along with her.
“Are there other people interviewing for the position?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Her face twisted in a grimace. “I don’t know exactly how many, but quite a few people who trained at other hospitals are trying to get it, since it’s a large orthopedic practice. I’d hoped that training there would give me a big advantage, but...”
Her voice faded away. Then the Rory he knew straightened her shoulders and put that determined look he’d seen so many times on her pretty face. This was the woman who’d climbed trees, operated heavy equipment in various search and rescue operations, and trained to be the kind of doctor few women in the country became.
“Anyway, it is what it is. I’ll figure out how to beat everyone else. Maybe being the last one to interview will be an advantage, somehow? Will stop them deciding on someone else before I have a chance.”
Yeah, that was indomitable Rory in a nutshell. There was only one time he’d seen her utterly defeated. And now that she’d be here longer he was glad they’d finished talking about it. Maybe they could be near one another without dreading it, or even have a conversation that didn’t stir bad memories. Maybe they would be reminded of why they’d been friends for so long before it had all gone wrong.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“OH, COME ON—don’t look like that,” her mother scolded as she slowly tottered toward the front door of Jake’s house. “It’s a birthday party. Parties are fun! You always loved Jake’s family, and they love you. And then there’s Mika! Is there a cuter baby on earth than him?”
Rory closed her eyes against the sudden and unforgettable memory of holding her tiny, lifeless baby boy. He hadn’t had time to grow to be a pretty, plump, full-term baby. Hadn’t lived to grow to be an adorable one-year-old. But for her he would always be the most beautiful baby in the world.
She tried to concentrate on the tree line higher up the hill behind the house, shoving down the image and the memory.
“Mika is very cute—no doubt about it. But, like I said before, it would be better for me to just leave you here and come pick you up later. Can’t you understand that it’s hard for me to spend time with Jake?”
“No, I can’t. You two were together for a long time, and I believe with all my heart that you’ll be happier if you bury the hatchet and become friends again. I’ve lived long enough to know that you can’t carry bad feelings around in your heart forever without it affecting your whole body. Poor digestion...your liver...high blood pressure and heart problems. Why, Sam Abbott got diabetes just from worrying too much about money and his business.”
Rory bit her tongue. Resigned to her fate for the afternoon, she carried the shopping bag of wrapped gifts she’d gotten on her trek to Fairbanks and helped her mother up the stone steps as a few fat snowflakes began to float from the cloudy sky onto their heads.
They crossed a wide wooden porch that bore zero resemblance to her mother’s small, creaky and listing front stoop. It gleamed with what looked like a new coat of polyurethane, and four comfortable-looking rocking chairs with plush pillows sat on either side of the front door. She wondered if Jake left them out all winter or took them to a shed somewhere, and then decided that the less she knew about how Jake lived in his new home with his new baby, the better.
She knocked on double doors painte
d a deep forest green, and Beth Hunter opened them with a smile. “Rory! Wendy. So glad you could make it. I can’t believe you knocked on the door, though. You’re like family, after all.”
Family. It had felt that way, once, hadn’t it?
They stepped across an oblong rug woven in the traditional Alaska Native style that graced so many homes in Eudemonia and elsewhere, and into a room with a vaulted ceiling made of pine logs. The space was nearly as big as her mother’s entire house, but even with the high ceiling it somehow felt cozy. Possibly because a crackling fire blazed in the large stone fireplace and large, overstuffed sofas and chairs sat on either side of it.
But the biggest reason it felt cozy was because it was full of people. Jake’s immediate family, plus cousins and lots of neighbors, sat and stood everywhere, talking and smiling. Balloons bobbed gently around the room, and a table holding platters of all kinds of food sat beneath one of the large windows, perfect for letting in what light was available during gray days and dark winters.
Rory stood there, absorbing the feel of the place. Warmth. Happiness and pleasure. A place you could count on as being a respite—a place you wanted to be, no matter how tough the outside world had become.
Much like Jake himself.
Her gaze roamed the beautiful room until it landed on the man who owned this house, who’d said he’d helped design and build it. He stood in the center, big and handsome, with a relaxed smile on his face. Mika was curled into Jake’s muscled arm, one small fist hanging on to the collar of his daddy’s yellow polo shirt.
A mix of emotions fluttered in Rory’s heart. Sadness, envy and, yes, a warm and real happiness for Jake. He deserved to have everything he wanted in life and it looked like he was nearly there, with his home in Eudemonia, his clinic practice, his beautiful son. At some point he’d be sure to marry, and the hollowness that filled Rory’s chest at that thought told her it was a very good thing she’d decided to stay in Los Angeles for good, so she didn’t have to see who he chose to be his bride.