by Judy Duarte
And at this point, her only concern was for her son. “Hi. How’s Bobby doing?”
“He’s fine. A little subdued, but hopeful.”
“Good.”
“For what it’s worth, Bobby told me that the little girl he’d been visiting had only allowed him to use a black crayon, so that’s why he’d drawn that picture without any colors.”
“That’s a relief. Dylan obviously jumped to the wrong conclusion.” She paused, still unable to sort through her own thoughts, unable to determine how much—if anything—to reveal about what was weighing on her heart.
“How’s your dad?” he asked, his voice rough yet gentle, his concern real.
“Hanging in there,” she said, wanting to open up, to vent, to cry in frustration and pain. But Joe didn’t need any extra ammo in the cold war he had with her father. And somewhere, deep inside, she still wished her dad would see reason, forgive her and give Joe a chance.
Still, there were some things that needed to be said. “My father’s a stubborn man. And I think he’d rather die than open his heart to anyone right now. Especially to someone who hurt him.”
“For what it’s worth,” Joe said, “I didn’t tell him anything. He saw us together in town and came to his own conclusion.”
If she would have been thinking clearly, she would have realized Joe was the kind of man who would keep his promise. “I’m sorry for lashing out at you. I was just so scared, so worried…about what would happen when he found out.”
She supposed, if anyone was to blame, it was her.
“And how are you doing, Kristin?”
Her? She was struggling to face the rift between her and her father, a gaping chasm that had been built years ago and that she’d failed to acknowledge. Her lip quivered, and she feared her voice would falter, too. “I’ll be all right.”
And one way or another, she would be.
“If you need someone to be with you, I can leave Bobby with Chloe. She’s really good with kids.”
Before Kristin could actually contemplate the suggestion, she noticed Dylan striding down the hall. “I’m okay for the time being. Dylan just arrived.”
Joe paused, then said, “That’s good. I’m glad you’re not alone. Don’t worry about Bobby. I’m taking some family leave time, so I can keep him as long as you’d like me to.”
“Thanks.” She wasn’t keen on breaking the connection, on losing the sound of Joe’s voice, but the closer Dylan came, the more she felt like ending the call. “I’ll have to talk to you later, okay?”
“Sure.”
Kristin hung up the telephone and greeted Dylan. She should feel buoyed by his presence, but for some reason, his arrival was bittersweet.
“I rescheduled the filming of the morning show.” Dylan offered her a hug, which wasn’t nearly as soothing as Joe’s had been. And although she appreciated having his arms around her, it didn’t lift her guilt, her worry, her loneliness.
It was Joe’s embrace she wanted. Joe’s support. Joe’s love. And the reality sank to the pit of her heart.
“No matter what happens,” Dylan said. “I want you to know I love you and I’m here for you.”
The words should have helped, should have made her lean into him and hang on for dear life. But they didn’t, and she withdrew from his embrace.
Dylan furrowed his brow. “What’s the matter, Kristin?”
“I appreciate you coming, Dylan. And I value our friendship.”
“Our friendship?” A look of disbelief crossed his face, as though he was shocked to know she’d meant what she’d told him before—that she wasn’t ready to marry him.
Most women would be thrilled to have a man like Dylan for a husband. But in spite of Dylan’s wisdom and perfection, Kristin didn’t love him. Not the way she’d once loved Joe. Not the way she still loved Joe.
And she couldn’t imagine spending the rest of her life with a man who didn’t turn her heart inside out.
“I don’t love you.” The words surprised her, nearly as much as his expression suggested they’d surprised him. “At least, not in the right way. And I don’t want you to have any sense of false hope. I won’t marry you. I’m sorry.”
He ran his hand through the hair that was always combed, always perfect, and mussed it in a way that made him look human. “I won’t tell you that I’m okay with this. It hurts.”
She almost uttered another apology, but bit her tongue. There wasn’t any way to make this easy for him.
“It’s Davenport, isn’t it?”
Kristin nodded. “I’ve always been in love with my son’s father. And returning to Bayside, seeing him again, watching him bond with Bobby, has only made me love him more.”
“I suspected there was something going on between the two of you.” Dylan cleared his throat, then shoved his hands in the pockets of his Versace slacks. “Does Joe love you, too?”
“I don’t know. And it really doesn’t matter. I’m not looking for a husband on the rebound. And even if I were, you don’t deserve to be second choice.”
He blew out a weary sigh. “You’re right. If I can’t be first in your life, then it’s best if we end things.”
They stood in silence for a while, out of respect for a relationship that died. Then Dylan reached out and cupped her cheek. “You ought to get some rest.”
She smiled, then glanced down at the beige linen outfit she wore, the bagged-out, wrinkled slacks. “I will, as soon as I feel comfortable leaving here.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“No. That’s all right. I’ll be okay.”
And she would be all right—even if her father passed away.
And even if Joe’s love for her had died years ago.
Kristin remained at the hospital throughout the night, but she didn’t go into her father’s room. She couldn’t.
If he shut her out again, the painful image would darken every memory she’d ever held of him. As it was, she could tell herself he was sick, medicated. Not in his right mind.
But if he rejected her apology one more time, if he threw it back in her face again, she’d fall apart. Or fly off the handle. Maybe pitch a fit. Throw a bedpan across the room.
“Ms. Reynolds?”
She turned at the sound of the masculine voice and saw her father’s primary physician standing in the doorway.
“Is he…?” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. Was her father dead? Was he asking for her? Had his conscience stirred? Was he offering forgiveness without a price?
“We’re getting your father ready for surgery,” Dr. Capshaw said.
“Against his wishes?”
“No. He agreed to the bypass. He had a close call about an hour ago, and we finally got through to him. The risk of the surgery no longer outweighs the risk of doing nothing.”
“Can I see him?”
“I’m afraid not. Once we had his consent, things started happening fast.”
She nodded, not sure whether her father’s attitude before bypass surgery would be improved or hindered by a visit from her.
Deciding not to focus on it either way, she called Joe to let him know what was going on.
Or maybe she just wanted to hear the rich timbre of his voice. To feel a connection, even if it was only over a telephone wire.
“Joe, it’s me.”
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
She appreciated his concern, since it didn’t appear as though she had anyone in her corner, not since she ran Dylan off. God, how she wished she had a sister or brother, someone to help her carry the emotional load. Or better yet, she wished her mother were still alive.
“I’m doing all right,” she told Joe. Although, if he were standing here and could see what lack of sleep had done to her, he wouldn’t believe her. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to comb out the tangles.
“And your dad?” Joe asked.
“They took him into surgery. I can call you when he’s out.”
“You
’re not by yourself, are you?”
She clutched the receiver tight, wanting so badly to tell him to please come sit with her, hold her hand. Hold her up. But she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t let him know how vulnerable she was, how badly she wanted him. “Don’t worry about me. Just take care of Bobby.”
“You know I will.”
Then she sat down to wait.
Alone.
Chapter Thirteen
The next few hours passed slowly. Kristin had tried to get some rest, but never could relax, never could let go.
Several others waited in the same room—an older couple watching a game show on television, two young men in the far corner. But Kristin had no one. Just herself.
So, there’d been plenty of time to think, time to contemplate what she wanted out of life. What she needed. What she’d lost.
Throughout the morning, she’d wanted to pick up the phone and call Joe, to tell him she needed his support, his shoulder to lean on, his arms to hold her.
And that she needed his love.
But an admission like that would leave her open, vulnerable.
What if he didn’t love her? And if he did, what if he walked out on her again? What if he broke her heart for a second time?
And even more unsettling—if Joe rejected her, how would that affect Bobby?
The murmurs and movements within the waiting room ceased when a doctor dressed in surgery scrubs entered. He strode toward Kristin. “Ms. Reynolds?”
“Yes.” She stood.
“I’m Dr. Alvarado, the cardiovascular surgeon who performed the bypass on your father.”
Her knees nearly gave out, but more from exhaustion than anything. “How is he?”
“He survived the operation and is doing as well as can be expected. The heart attack did some damage, but not nearly as much as it would have had he not received immediate attention. We’ll have to wait and see how he does over the next few days, but let’s say I’m cautiously optimistic.”
She nodded, trying to take it all in. She was glad her dad’s chances of making it had improved. Glad that the paramedics had been on hand when the heart attack had occurred. If her father had been at home or the office at the time, he might not have fared as well.
“It will be a while before your father can have visitors, so why don’t you get some rest. If you let us know where to reach you, we’ll keep you updated.”
“Certainly.” Her first thought was to leave her father’s home number, but reconsidered. For some reason, she didn’t think being in the family home would provide her the peace she needed to get some rest, especially since she hadn’t been sleeping very well prior to the all-night vigil she’d spent in a chair in the ICU waiting room.
There was no place more restful than the historic mountain community of Julian. The quaint cabin had always seemed more like home to her than the house in which she’d grown up. Probably because it reminded her so much of her mother, a woman who’d been able to fix things with a smile and a hug. But it was too far away if she needed to rush back to the hospital for any reason. Maybe the Bayside Inn would be better.
“I’m not sure where I’ll end up, Doctor. Can you call my cell phone?”
“Of course. Leave the number with Karen at the patient advocate’s office.”
“All right. I will.” She reached for her purse and left the room, eager to be on her way. But before going anywhere, she would stop by Joe’s and see about Bobby.
Twenty minutes later, she parked in a visitor space and glanced in the rearview mirror. When she saw her worn, frazzled image, she nearly changed her mind. She didn’t want either Joe or Bobby to see her looking like something the cat had dragged in.
But Kristin wouldn’t hide the truth any longer. She was bone tired. And emotionally exhausted. Only a fool would pretend the past twenty-four hours hadn’t taken a toll on her.
She almost slapped on a coat of lipstick, but didn’t think it would make any significant difference in her appearance. And she wasn’t sure it even mattered. Right now, romance was at the very bottom of her priority list.
If she’d harbored any fantasies of Joe falling in love with her all over again, it certainly wasn’t going to happen today. Not with her looking like a shipwrecked socialite who’d weathered a typhoon or two.
She climbed from the car, made her way to the porch and rang the bell.
Bobby answered and grinned from ear to ear, his eyes glistening. “Mom! You’re back.” Then he wrapped his arms around her waist. “How’s Grandpa?”
“He’s doing okay.” Kristin held her son tight, but her eyes drifted to the tall figure standing behind him. The broad-shouldered, blond Adonis in worn jeans and a white T-shirt.
The first—and only—man she’d ever loved.
With sun-kissed hair, topaz eyes and a dimpled grin that could turn a woman inside out, he was a welcome sight for weary eyes. He looked so fresh. So robust. So utterly handsome, that she couldn’t help but stare. Couldn’t help but fall into the stunning depths of his amber gaze.
His thumbs were hooked into the front pockets of his jeans, but he caressed her just the same—with his eyes. “You said your father was doing all right. But how about you?”
Again, his concern was touching. Normally, she might have stood tall, told him she was fine. But it didn’t take a Mensa candidate to see how frazzled she was.
She blew out a weary sigh. “Other than catnaps, I haven’t slept in days. And I need a bath.” She ran a hand through her hair, her fingers snagging in the tangles. “But I’ll be okay after a soak in the tub and visit with the sandman.”
“Did you want to take Bobby home?”
“I suppose so. But I’m not going home. I thought about driving to the Bayside Inn. Being at my father’s house right now isn’t all that appealing. And I’m not sure why.”
“If you want, you can stay here.” He nodded toward the bedroom. “Bobby and I were going to run some errands, so it’ll be quiet.”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” She swayed again, like a drunken sailor on the first shore leave in months. Maybe driving anywhere wasn’t a good idea until she napped.
Joe took her by the arm and placed a supportive hand on her back. “You’re not really okay, are you?”
She bit her lip, not sure how to ask for a hug. Not sure she wanted to reveal her need for one, but wanting his embrace so badly, it didn’t seem to matter. “Can you hold me for a moment?”
“Sure.” He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.
She rested her head against his shoulder. His cologne, something sea-captain fresh and musky, snagged hold of her, offering more than comfort, more than strength.
In the past, she might have pulled away, tried to free herself from the snare of his embrace. But today, she held on for dear life.
They stood on his front porch in broad daylight, where all the world—or at least his neighbors—could see. But he didn’t seem to mind.
His hands stroked her back—not in a sexual manner, but in a warm and loving way that offered her hope. Peace. Security. All the things she’d been missing lately.
Or maybe she was just rheumy from lack of sleep and unable to realize what she’d been missing. But either way, she seemed to have found it all in Joe’s warm embrace.
Joe held Kristin, offering her all he was free to give. In his arms, she felt fragile, yet determined. And he suspected she’d needed this hug yesterday, as well as some hand-holding throughout the hospital ordeal. He would have sat with her, but she’d declined. She hadn’t needed him.
“Where’s Dylan?” he asked. “Has he been with you?”
“No. I sent him home yesterday.”
“Why?”
Her hold loosened, but she didn’t pull away. “I…uh…told him I didn’t love him. And that I wasn’t going to marry him.”
The news sent his heart into a soaring loop-the-loop, and he felt as though he’d just hit a home run with the bases loaded.
; Dylan was out of the picture. That was great. But not just because his son wouldn’t have the guy as a stepfather. Somewhere, in some irrational part of his mind, Joe actually liked the idea of Kristin being unattached. In fact, it made him want to try and re-stake his claim.
And why not?
She’d loved him once. Maybe she could love him again. And if so, maybe they could salvage the innocent dreams they’d once shared, create the kind of family their son deserved.
Of course, they’d have to tell Thomas Reynolds to take a flying leap if he tried to interfere. But Joe doubted Kristin would want to upset her dad, especially after nearly losing him. So that meant they were back to square one.
She slowly pulled away, leaving his arms empty. “Thanks, Joe. You have no idea how much I needed that.”
“No problem.” It had been his pleasure.
The classy woman who’d always dressed meticulously now sported a rumpled linen jacket and slacks. Even her string of pearls seemed to hang limp. And if she didn’t appear to be so bedraggled emotionally, he’d think she looked cute. Lovable. Like a real woman who was actually attainable.
A woman who might take a chance on loving him again.
An admission of love lingered in his throat, but he didn’t dare open his heart and lay it on the line. Not now. Not until he had some idea how she felt about him. No need to spill his heart until he knew she wouldn’t step on it.
“Come on inside,” he said. “You can take a shower or bath here, if you’d like. And I’ll give you one of my shirts to sleep in. Bobby and I will take off so it’ll be quiet.”
Nodding, she followed him into his living room, where the four walls seemed to light up, to perk up, just by her presence. His heart seemed to lighten, too.
And he wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not.
Kristin woke to the sound of her cell phone ringing. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was.
But she could smell Joe’s scent in the sheets of his bed, and it all came back to her.