by Vivi Holt
That night, however, it was as they’d decided to team up against her. They’d started out sweet – appealing to her sense of family, to reason and logic. She couldn’t move to south Georgia, it wouldn’t be good for her career. She had so much potential, it would devastate them if she was to give that up for a man. It didn’t make any sense. When she told them she wasn’t sure if it would work out with Eamon anyway, so they might not have anything to worry about, they were relieved. Her mother hugged her, something she rarely did, and her father smiled.
But when they began making plans for her return to Boston, she had to stop them. “I’m not moving back – I told you, I have a job in Tifton. I’m going to be working there for at least a year. I have a contract – I’m not going to back out on them.”
Ma Ma covered her mouth with a hand and squeezed a single tear from her closed eyes. Her father’s smile faded fast and his eyes narrowed. “You still insist on making this mistake?”
She nodded. “I don’t think it’s a mistake. I feel really good about it, Ba Ba. I know it’s a bit of a detour, but I think it’ll be good for me.”
He shook his head and stormed from the room again, the same as the previous night – and many other nights in the past. Always running out on arguments, because he couldn’t stand his daughter standing up to him. She knew what he was thinking – in his culture, that just didn’t happen. He found it hard to swallow that a daughter of his would not only defy him, but do so openly in his own home.
“We only want what’s best for you,” Mother insisted, teary-eyed
Emily hadn’t wished to confront her parents this way, but they’d given her no other choice. She swallowed hard. “I know, Ma Ma, but this is what I think is best. I hope you and Ba Ba will understand that in time.”
When her taxi pulled out of their long drive, they’d waved goodbye, standing apart, a world of space between them, looking old and tired. Her heart lurched at the sight.
* * *
The small office space she shared with Drs. Hamilton and Suarez was cozy and noisy. It seemed that when the building was erected, no one had bothered with insulation or sound-proofing. And in a clear lapse of judgment, the interior designer Dr. Hamilton hired had given the place a polished concrete floor that amplified every normal office sound.
A nice carpet could easily have dampened the din, but Jos wouldn’t hear of it. She liked to fling herself around the place on her wheeled office chair, often crashing into the filing cabinet under the reception desk, which only added to the noise. Both her knees were covered with scars, but it didn’t seem to stop her careening or dim her smile. Emily decided she’d just have to get used to it. It was different from her Boston office, but sometimes being different was a good thing.
She opened every cabinet door in the small kitchenette, finally discovering a pile of mismatched coffee mugs. The pot on the coffee maker was almost full and she poured herself a cup, but one sip revealed a bitter flavor that made her grimace. It took her three sips for her taste buds to grow accustomed to it.
“How are you settling in?” Dr. Maria Suarez was a curvaceous forty-something Cuban woman with long thick hair that fell in waves around her shoulders, who wore her white coat as if it were a fashion statement. She had a warm smile that immediately set Emily at ease.
“Not too bad. I started unpacking when I got back from Boston on Friday, and by last night I only had a few boxes left. So I did them and went to bed early. I didn’t realize how tiring it can be to unpack boxes and make a thousand decisions about where everything you own should live.” She laughed and spooned sugar into her coffee cup, hoping it would cut through the bitterness.
Maria grimaced. “I know just what you mean.” Her voice was smooth as silk, her accent softening the edges of words. “We moved here five years ago, and I vowed never to move again.”
Emily nodded. She’d be happy to go a long time before moving interstate again. And after having to organize the entire procedure in just a few short days, all she wanted to do now was curl up in a corner somewhere and sleep.
She wondered what Eamon was doing. Ever since she’d climbed into the taxi and left for Boston a week ago, she’d regretted the way she’d left things between them. The arguments with her parents had helped her realize her feelings for him were stronger than she’d thought – all she wanted was to see him again. But had he washed his hands of her entirely? He hadn’t called her, and every time she picked up the phone to call him, fear stopped her. She couldn’t bear the idea of having him hang up on her, or worse, act cold and distant.
She took a deep breath. No time to think about him now – it was her first day at a new job and she had patients to see. Butterflies swirled in her stomach. What if she didn’t know what to do? What if she overlooked something important and failed to diagnose a serious illness? She’d never worked as a GP before and diagnosis had never been her strong point. She was a surgeon – after someone else settled on a why, she implemented the how. Now, she’d be doing both between the GP’s office and the hospital.
She followed Dr. Suarez out of the kitchenette and down the hall to their offices, each with a sign on the door. Hers read, “SUNDEEP RAMACHANDRA, M.D.” She paused in front of the door and frowned – they’d have to take care of that. She headed to the reception area. “Excuse me, Joss?”
Joss looked up from her computer screen with a smile. “Yes?”
“I was wondering when I might be able to get the sign on my door changed?”
Joss blinked. “Oh, of course – I’ll change that directly. By the way, the boss wants to see you at ten, so I’ve left you an open slot then. Okay?”
Emily nodded, smiling at how she referred to her husband, Dr. Joseph Hamilton, as “the boss.” Emily always liked to arrive extra early on her first day, and that morning she’d beaten everyone else to the office. She’d had to wait outside until Joe and Joss arrived to open the place. The quaintness of it all made her smile – yes, this was far more relaxed than the Brigham. She thanked her and headed back to her office.
The first four patients flew by in a blur of questions, smiles and answers. She was happy with how she’d handled them, and the nerves began to fade. She could do this. At ten, she finished keying notes into the computer and hurried to Joe’s office, where he was waiting for her in a worn leather armchair. The nerves returned and her stomach clenched – what did he want? Had she already made a mistake? At the Brigham, the boss never asked to meet with you unless you’d done something wrong.
“Emily, good to see you. Have some cake.” He pushed a plate covered in slices of fruitcake toward her, just as Joss bustled in with a hot cup of coffee.
Emily nodded her thanks and took the cup and a slice, holding it carefully on a napkin to avoid spilling crumbs. “Thank you.”
Joss left and Joe leaned back in his chair to sip his coffee. “So how’re you doing?”
She could almost feel his sincerity, like a warm blanket. “I’m doing well.”
“Finding your way around?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Well, I just wanted to meet with you to make sure you have everything you need. Oh, and we’re all going to Oinkers for lunch – kind of a welcome to the team. You been there yet?”
She nodded. “That sounds lovely, thank you.” She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Everyone in the office seemed kind, polite, hard-working and considerate. It felt too good to be true.
He smiled warmly. “Wonderful. Well, you just let me know if you need anything or have any questions. We’re all family here.”
She couldn’t speak, just nodded again. By the time she made it back to her office, she felt like she might cry. She sat down with a sigh and took a deep breath.
Joss knocked on the door with a grin. “I made pumpkin scones last night – care to try one before your 10:30?”
Her eyes smarted with tears.
* * *
The apartment felt like home already. At 5:30, Emily was seated on
the couch, with a glass of iced tea in hand and the evening stretching out in front of her with nothing in it but the television. She had no idea what to watch, though – she’d rarely had time before.
The clock she’d hung on the kitchen wall ticked loudly. She set up her Bluetooth speaker, searched her phone, and soon Adele echoed off the walls. She sat with a sigh on the couch, flicked on the TV, surfed through the channels and turned it off again – there was nothing on. What did regular people do, the people who knocked off work at five and had no peak-hour commute to contend with – how did they spend their evenings?
She carried her empty glass back into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She hadn’t had time to go to the store yet. Perhaps that’s what she should do. At least it would fill time. She grabbed her purse and headed out the door. She’d purchased a used Toyota hatchback on Saturday – it waited in her designated parking space outside, red paint dull in the golden afternoon light.
She passed Kroger a block away and slapped her forehead when she saw she’d missed the turn. She glanced in the rearview mirror and thought about what to do - keep going and do a U-turn further along the road, or look for another grocery store? But then she saw the turnoff to the highway up ahead. She recognized it as the highway that led to the Cotton Tree Ranch.
Her thoughts returned to Eamon. Likely he and Parker were doing their evening chores, or maybe they’d already finished and were cooking supper. The memory of the warm, cheerful kitchen made her heart ache. Parker would be stirring something on the stove top while Eamon chattered on about something one of the foals had done. Parker would nod or grunt in response, and Eamon would grin, those dimples casting shadows in his cheeks.
She sighed and turned the wheel. What was she doing? How did she know Eamon would want to see her after the way she’d treated him? But she couldn’t help herself – she had to see him, to find out if there was still a chance for them.
Within minutes she’d reached the gate, and she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. There was no turning back once she drove through – likely Harley would see her and begin barking, announcing her arrival to all and sundry. She stepped out of the car, the cool evening air brushing over her skin and raising goosebumps. The gate swung open easily, and she drove through, shutting it behind her car.
Sure enough, she heard Harley’s urgent calls. Looking toward the distant ranch house, she saw him standing at the end of the drive, his tail held high, his head raised. He didn’t know her car, since she’d only just bought it. By the time she reached the house, his barking had become urgent and drew Eamon from the barn. She didn’t see Parker – he must be out on the property somewhere.
She parked the vehicle and stepped out, noting with a grimace the new layer of mud on the car’s wheels and fenders. Well, she did live in the country now.
“Harley,” she called softly, and the dog raced toward her, tail wagging. He licked her legs, then turned to let his tail thump against her calves. She laughed and ran her hands down his sleek sides. “Happy to see me, boy? I sure am glad to see you.”
“So you came back.” Eamon’s voice startled her. It was a statement, not a question.
She could hear the tension in his voice and straightened, letting Harley continue to pummel her with his tail. “I told you I would.”
He pushed his hat back with his finger, his eyes narrowed. “Yeah,” he replied.
He wasn’t going to make this easy. “Eamon … I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like I did. It’s hard to explain to someone who’s never been there, but my parents don’t exactly encourage standing up to them. I wasn’t allowed to argue with them – that’s how I was raised, and I knew they wouldn’t approve of us, and I got scared. But when I saw them … I found I didn’t care what they thought any longer.”
His eyebrows arched skyward, and his eyes widened in surprise.
"I told them everything, and they were furious. I mean, not just about you, but about the job as well. And suddenly, I didn't care. I stood up to them, for the first time in my entire life. And it was amazing, and horrible, and gut-wrenching all at the same time - but I did it. I did it. And I'm free. I feel free anyway. Like for the first time, I'm not worried about pleasing anyone else. I can make my own decisions, the decisions that are right for me. And my parents don't have to be happy about it, and that's okay." She laughed. She was babbling. Was she losing her mind? Yet, she felt a clarity she'd never experienced before, and joy bubbled up from deep within.
"I'm happy for you." He tipped his head to one side, his eyes dark with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"
She nodded. "I'm great. Wonderful, actually. And it's so good to see you."
Emily stepped forward, and reached out a hand to lay on his forearm. He glanced down at her touch, and a spark shot between them that made her breath catch in her throat. When he caught her gaze, his mouth curved into a lazy grin, and his dimples flashed making her heart thud.
“I was just about to head out on Maggie for a ride. She’s been moping around the stables a lot ever since her colt died, so I’m trying to keep her distracted. Do you want to join me?”
She frowned. “I’d love to, but I don’t know how to ride.”
“I’d be happy to teach you. Dexter’s an old gelding we keep close to home just for riding – he’s gentle as a lamb. I’ll saddle him up for you.” He took her hand and led her toward the barn.
She fell into step beside him. “Well, okay … but just so you know, I’ve seen lambs and that metaphor isn’t really working for me. They might look gentle, but they do a lot of jumping, bucking and lurching, so …” She was babbling again – the thought of climbing on Dexter or any other creature that weighed ten times as much as her made her nervous.
He laughed and stopped. “Don’t worry so much.” Time stood still as their gazes locked. His eyes were the deep blue of the ocean in a storm, and she could read his desire in their depths before he set off again toward the stable.
She fell back into babbling. “See, saying ‘don’t worry so much’ isn’t very comforting. I mean, statistically speaking the number of horse riding accidents that result in death is quite high compared with other sports. Not to mention permanent disability …”
He laughed again and shot her a look out of the corner of his eye. “You’ll be fine.”
She chewed her bottom lip. Sure, she’d be fine – he’d make certain of it, wouldn’t he? She trusted him. Even though she wasn’t sure about that Dexter creature.
Chapter 13
What was that saying about falling off a horse? Emily tried to remember. What do you do if you fall off – throw out your arms? Tuck and roll? No, it was something about getting back up again, wasn’t it? Not that helpful – she didn’t want to fall, and if she did, she certainly wouldn’t get back up on this gigantic horse. Eamon had failed to mention that Dexter was really tall. She shivered and clutched tighter to Dexter’s reins, looking down at the ground that suddenly seemed very distant. “Are you sure he’s okay?” she asked shakily.
“He’s docile as a sloth, old Dexter.” Eamon rode beside her on Maggie. The mare was tall as well, but not as tall as Dexter. Maggie held her head high and stepped regally, sometimes skittering sideways as though she wanted to go faster and he wouldn’t let her. “Don’t worry, he’ll take care of you just fine.”
After plodding along for ten minutes, Emily finally began to relax, and she loosened her tight grip on the reins, letting them hang between her fingers. As she let the tension ease out of her shoulders, she saw the gentle waving of leaves in the pecan trees lining the southern fence line. The soothing call of a flock of ducks as they took flight from the creek banks and flapped up into the sky made her smile. Darkness came slowly in summer, and she was grateful for it. This kind of beauty couldn't be seen in the bright light of day, it was reserved for the dimly lit twilight hours, with lengthening shadows and the brilliant colors of a sunset that warmed the pastures around them.
; “So you told your parents about me?” asked Eamon.
She smiled with a quick bob of her head. “I told them we were seeing each other. And that you were just the kind of man I was looking for.”
He tugged on Maggie’s reins and waited for Emily to catch up to him, then reached for Dexter’s bit to make him stop. “I am?”
“Yes, Mr. Williams. You are.”
He stood tall in his stirrups, grabbed her around the waist and pulled her from her saddle onto his own. She gasped as he sat her facing him, the two of them squeezed between the rear and horn of the saddle. She wrapped her jean-clad legs around him and looped her arms around his neck with a smile. “I’m sorry,” she whispered against his neck.
He tilted her chin up until her eyes met his, and she felt his longing reaching into her soul. “Emily, you must know how I feel.”
She looked away, unsure of how to respond. She didn’t know how he felt, not really. It was obvious he liked her, but she was in love with him. Since she’d met him, her whole life had been turned upside down – actually, it felt more like right side up. Everything she’d thought was real and true didn’t seem all that important any longer. She’d once thought love was just a connection with someone. Not now, not once love knocked her from her feet and left her gasping for air. Not when she felt Eamon’s arms around her.
This, this was love. She knew it in the depths of her soul despite never experiencing it before. Love was an all-consuming life upheaval, with the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same again, that a life lived without the other person was no life at all. She’d thought she was content before she met him, but now she knew she’d had no idea. The only question that remained was: did he feel the same way?
“I don’t want us to be apart ever again,” he simply said.
She sighed in relief and kissed him, hard. He cupped her face in both hands, gently at first, then more passionately. Her mind emptied of every thought other than that she loved and was loved. There was nothing else.