The First Kiss of Spring

by Emily March

  The last piece of furniture to empty was the bedside nightstand. She picked up the paperback she was currently reading and tossed it into her suitcase along with her computer and electronics cords. Then she drew a deep breath and slid open the nightstand drawer to reveal the two black velvet jewelry boxes.

  With a trembling hand, she removed them, opened them, and stared down at the contents. What were they called? S-something-emeralds. Sorbek? Saracen? No, Sokolov. The Sokolov emeralds. Guess she’d been a real idiot not to recognize these as real.

  Although she’d pretty sure she’d never seen jewels like these outside of a museum. And why in the world would it have occurred to her that they were anything other than costume? The man portrayed himself as an engine mechanic. Why would she think he had real jewelry to give? Should she have suspected him of burglary?

  He’d gifted her with a fortune in jewels—right before he sent her away. I’m like the duke’s mistress in a romance novel, dismissed after he meets his heroine.

  A soft, sour laugh escaped Caitlin’s lips. Josh had warned her. He’d been totally honest about his wishes and his walls. She’d been the one to ignore them. She’d been the pursuer in their relationship, not him.

  She’d believed she could overcome his objections. A siege? Hah. She’d launched her catapults, shot her arrows, swam the stupid moat … and his walls stood strong as ever. She’d failed. She’d been vanquished. The castle walls weren’t in ruins—she was.

  She’d lost.

  Caitlin snapped the boxes shut and tossed them on the bed. She lifted her backpack, picked up her suitcase, and headed for the mudroom and her coat. Josh—or J. B.—had yet to move away from the kitchen table.

  In a perfect world, she would have the perfect parting shot sitting on her tongue. In reality, the sight of him saddened her, and she couldn’t think of anything clever so she crossed the room in silence. He didn’t look up from his drink.

  She set down her luggage in order to slip into her coat. Penny rolled up beside her and Caitlin took a moment to pet her before removing her gloves from her pocket and pulling them on. “I left Penny’s heartworm tablets on top of the washing machine.”

  “Thanks.”

  She slung the strap of her backpack over her shoulder. Come on, Timberlake. Think of a zinger. She opened the door, picked up her suitcase, and couldn’t think of a single thing to say to him other than goodbye. She wasn’t quite ready to say that.

  So she remained silent as she stepped outside. As she reached for the doorknob to shut the door behind her, Josh finally spoke. “You deserve better, Caitlin.”

  “I know that, Josh.” At this particular moment in time and under these particular circumstances, she knew there was nothing else to say.

  So Caitlin closed the door.

  Journal Entry

  Today, I looked at baseball cards.

  It’s an awesome collection. There’s a Joe DiMaggio, a Ted Williams, a Hank Aaron—too many prizes to count. It took me a while to figure out that he had them grouped by league, then team, then position—infield, outfield, catchers, and pitchers.

  I thought about Drew-Bear. Wondered why he’d called the game early. Did he have a Sherman of his own? A Tormento? Did he spend a lot of time thinking about it? Planning it? Or was it an impulsive, reckless act?

  I flipped through the box. Second basemen—Joe Morgan, Pee Wee Reese, Bump Wills. Shortstops—Ozzie Smith, Maury Wills, Derek Jeter. Hmm … why are Lou Gehrig, Roberto Clemente, and Lymon Bostock out of order?

  I thought a few minutes and figured it out. They died. They were all players who died young.

  Guess that answered my question. Not recklessness, then. Genetics.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Caitlin nursed her wounded heart overnight in the privacy of her little rental house on Third and Pinion. She lay awake tossing and turning and mentally replaying the events of this day and those of the past four months. From that electric moment in Telluride when her and Josh’s gazes first met to the wicked games they’d played at Brick and Lili’s wedding. To the laughter they’d shared. The early morning runs. The late-night conversations. Had none of that been real? Had it all been as false as his name?

  She didn’t want to believe it.

  She didn’t know what to believe.

  She felt lost. She wished she were home. She wished she could go beg a hug from her mom or crawl up into her daddy’s lap and bury her head against his chest and cry.

  Except, that was a whole other problem, wasn’t it? Her parents had a problem they hadn’t shared with her. She knew it as certain as … well … as certain as the fact that her lover was a liar. She finally drifted off to sleep thinking that she seriously couldn’t deal with another secret for one more day.

  When she awoke the following morning, she decided to do something about it. She picked up some cinnamon rolls from the bakery, drove up to Heartache Falls without calling ahead, and walked into her parents’ home through the kitchen door without knocking. “Mom? Dad?”

  “Caitlin?” Her mother’s surprised voice came from the front of the house. “We’re in here.”

  Caitlin set down the bakery box then walked to the great room. There, an open book and reading glasses showed that her mom had obviously risen from her usual spot on the sofa. Her father reclined in a big leather chair that hadn’t been there the last time Caitlin had visited. He didn’t get up, which was understandable if he’d twisted his ankle. Except, his ankle wasn’t wrapped or swollen at all.

  Mac Timberlake looked tired. Pale. Definitely not the vigorous father Caitlin was accustomed to seeing.

  Although if she was being honest with herself, when was the last time she’d taken a long, hard look at her father?

  You’ve been avoiding it. You know you have. She’d been so wrapped up in Josh and his problems that she’d ignored the troubles up at Heartache Falls.

  Well, no more. No more ignorance where either one of these stubborn men were concerned. “Enough of this. I’m not stupid, Daddy. What’s wrong with you? Something is wrong with you. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Mac shot Ali a quick look. “I’m fine, honey. I think Mom told you I twisted my ankle.”

  “Yes, she did. While her face drained of all color.” Caitlin folded her arms. “There’s a recliner in Mom’s living room. As long as I can remember, Mom swore she’d never have a recliner in the living room. Your office was okay. The den was okay. The living room was not okay. You are sick, aren’t you, Dad? I need to know the truth. Please, just tell me the truth!”

  Mac closed his eyes, swallowed hard, and took a deep breath. Caitlin’s heart dropped to her toes.

  Her father said, “I’ve had some worrisome muscle weakness and tingling in my hands. But I don’t want you to fret about it. I had a complete barrage of tests and they didn’t find anything.”

  Relief flowed over Caitlin like snowmelt in the spring. And yet … “But you’re still having symptoms? They’re bad enough that you need a recliner?”

  “My symptoms come and go. The recliner is … um…”

  “I’m expanding my boundaries,” Ali said. She lifted her chin and a militant light gleamed in her eyes. “Your dad and I agree we don’t want to get in a rut.”

  Caitlin’s eyes went round. “A rut? When have the two of you ever been in a rut?”

  “I rest my case. But enough about us.” Ali offered her daughter a bright smile and asked, “So, is there a special reason for the visit? How is Josh today?”

  Caitlin tilted her head and studied her parents. As always, they presented a united front. Her father’s gaze never wavered as he watched her, and Mac Timberlake didn’t lie to her. “You’ll tell me if it’s something serious, Dad?”

  “I’ll tell you as soon as anything is confirmed, sweetpea. You have my word.”

  “Okay then.” Caitlin drew a deep breath and returned to her mother’s questions. She didn’t have an answer for the second one, of course, so she answered the first. “I br
ought cinnamon rolls from Fresh. That’s always special.”

  “I’ll make fresh coffee,” Ali said. She looked at her husband. “Shall we have a tray here by the fireplace?”

  “No.” His voice was firm. “We’ll sit at the kitchen table.”

  Ali began, “But—”

  “I’ll use the cane. Caitlin, what’s the latest on Gingerbread House?”

  Caitlin was glad to keep the conversation away from Josh and on daycare matters, and she left a half hour later reassured about her father’s health. It cleared her mind for further brooding about her own problems. And brood she did. For the rest of the morning and the entire afternoon, it was all Josh, all the time.

  She’d been vanquished from the battlefield, true, but what about the war? Was she ready to give up? For months now, she’d said she loved him. If she truly loved him, would she walk away? Let him push her away? Wouldn’t she fight for him?

  If she truly loved him.

  That was the question, wasn’t it? How could she love a man whose name she didn’t even know?

  Who was he? What were his values, his beliefs? Why was he hiding in Eternity Springs? Why had he hidden himself from her?

  Without answers to those questions, how could she have real, honest, true feelings for the man?

  But could her instincts have been so completely and totally wrong?

  Caitlin looked deep within herself. In her heart of hearts, she didn’t believe she would be so wrong. But how could she be sure? How could she trust herself?

  At that point, she did the only thing she knew to do. She called her best girlfriend.

  * * *

  Lori closed the vet clinic half an hour early, and by five the two women were sitting at Caitlin’s kitchen table with a tub of rocky road and every ice cream topping the Trading Post had on the shelves set out in front of them. As they dug in, Caitlin explained the situation and poured out her heart, ending with, “He didn’t ask me to keep the movie star thing a secret, but I don’t feel right about spreading it around, so…”

  “I’ll keep quiet,” Lori assured her. “It’s a fascinating bit of news, though, isn’t it? I’d sure love to know the backstory there.”

  “Or maybe not,” Caitlin observed. “It could be really awful, for him to have hidden it so deeply.”

  “True.” Lori gave her spoon a thoughtful lick. “So you think that’s why he broke up with you? You discovered his big secret?”

  “I don’t know. I imagine that’s part of it, but who knows? He hasn’t exactly been the king of communication lately.”

  “Well, men can be total jerks, but we know that about them.”

  “Truer words were never spoken.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I admit that this has given me some doubts I didn’t have before. That’s kind of scary.”

  “That’s kind of normal, if you ask me. The man didn’t tell the truth about his identity. Big red flag there. Of course you have questions.”

  “You want to know the really scary part? I’m pretty sure I know the answers. Well, the one answer that seems to matter most, anyway. I love him. I still love him. The way he’s acted … the secrets … they don’t seem to matter.” She set down her spoon and rubbed her eyes. “I can’t explain it, Lori, not even to myself. I just know I love him. I love him. That frightens me. What if I’m totally off base here? What if I’m wrong about him? What if he’s been playing a role all along and I’m just too blind to see it? Although, I don’t know that it matters one way or the other because he broke up with me yesterday, didn’t he!”

  “Break up, shmake up.” Lori squirted a dab of chocolate sauce onto the last of the ice cream in her bowl. “If you want him, you’ll fight for him. If you fight for him, you’ll win. That’s what you do, Caitlin.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Caitlin said, frowning.

  “I do. The question is, do you want him? Honey, I’m going to be honest here. I think you need this break as much as Josh does.”

  “Why?”

  “This love affair happened very fast. I know you’ve been sure of your feelings right from the beginning, but this whole thing has been out of character for you. I think this break is a good opportunity for you to give yourself time to be sure of your surety.”

  Dryly, Caitlin asked, “Are you sure?”

  Lori shook her spoon at her sister-in-law. “I am. Besides, it’s not like you don’t have anything to do to keep you busy.”

  “That’s true. I’ve a million things to do before Gingerbread House’s opening day.”

  “Then get to them.” Lori scooped the last of her ice cream onto her spoon, swallowed it with sinful relish, then stood. “Now, I do believe my work here is done. I’d better get home to your brother. It’s my night to cook and I promised him Tuscan chicken—though I don’t know how I’m going to eat a bite after all this ice cream. You’re welcome to join us, Caitlin. I have plenty.”

  “No thanks.” She rose and gave her sister of the heart a hug. “All of a sudden I’m anxious to get started on work.”

  “Good.”

  “Yes, good. Thank you, Lori.”

  “My pleasure.” Lori gave her wink and added, “It’s also going to be my pleasure to watch Mr. Hollywood mend this break-up fence. Winter can be long in Eternity Springs. I’ll be glad to have the entertainment.”

  Caitlin watched through the kitchen window as Lori backed her veterinary practice’s van out of her driveway and pulled away. A faint smile played upon her face as she rinsed the dirty dishes and loaded the dishwasher. The two visits with family today had improved her spirits tremendously.

  Tonight, she thought she’d do a yoga video on YouTube and then take a nice long bath. She’d go to bed early and there would be no tossing and turning this time.

  She wasn’t going to worry about her dad.

  She wasn’t going to wallow around feeling heartbroken.

  She would pour her energy and efforts into Gingerbread House and give herself time to think about exactly what she wanted from the man who lived next door.

  * * *

  The minute Caitlin shut the door, Josh surrendered to the coughing fit he’d fought to hold back since he’d asked her to leave. When the delivery he requested from the pharmacy arrived, he didn’t hesitate to throw back the maximum dose. After that, he went to bed, where he pretty much stayed for the next three days until a pounding on his door roused him.

  Harriet took one look at him and called his doctor. Josh was too sick to protest when the physician did the small-town solid of making a house call. Ten days of antibiotics later, he began to feel human again and by the first week of February, he decided he just might survive. Lonely as hell, hooked on painkillers, but alive.

  Dammit.

  He remembered something one of his rehab doctors back in the day had said. “Pneumonia is God’s gift to old people—it’s not a bad way to die.” It would have been easier if he’d just died. If Harriet hadn’t been over here hounding him to take his antibiotics every damn day, he might have pulled it off.

  And now he was out of Percocet and wondering where he could get some more.

  Dr. Alvarado wouldn’t refill his prescription so soon. Neither would the doctors in Gunnison. Doctor shopping had netted him nothing. He was so effed. Why hadn’t they just let him die?

  He hadn’t heard one word from Caitlin since the day he sent her away, and he was fine with that. He didn’t need her hovering over him. Neither did he need Celeste or Harriet or Lili knocking at his door. Unfortunately, they didn’t take his hints. On Groundhog Day, Harriet had watched Punxsutawney Phil predict six more weeks of winter on the television in his kitchen while he hid in the bathroom shaking and shivering and puking his guts up as he tried to resist the urge to take a pill. Three days after Valentine’s Day when Claire Lancaster dropped by with a plate of iced sugar cookies after the baby’s afternoon nap, he could move without his ribs barking at him too bad, but he was
completely out of Percs and contemplating driving somewhere—anywhere—to score some.

  He thanked Claire and walked her to the door. As he started to shut it, movement across the street caught his notice. A thought occurred. Harriet had broken her hip. Harriet had taken pain medication. What were the chances that she had a few left over? Pretty good, he’d bet. He could ask to borrow a couple.

  Or I could pay her a visit and ask to use the john, riffle through her medicine cabinet, and steal whatever she has.

  A wave of relief washed over him at the thought, but that was immediately eclipsed by a tsunami of shame.

  You’d steal pain medicine from an old lady? You don’t deserve to live, asshat.

  Shaken by the knowledge that he had sunk so low, Josh backed away from his front door and shut it, stared at it as if it were a snake. The Snake. Temptation. Evil waited on just the other side and if he stepped into it …

  “I have to do something,” he murmured. Dammit, he had to do something now before he did something soul-destroying. He needed something. Needed it now.

  Needed.

  * * *

  On the third Monday in February, Caitlin stepped away from the bulletin board and beamed. “Is that cute or what?”

  Her mother eyed the construction paper ladybugs, green grass, and bright yellow sun along with letters that spelled WE’RE BUGGY ABOUT SPRING and grinned. “It’s cute, and it’s so you. You have always been a ladybug girl.”

  “I don’t know why I love them so much. They are kinda creepy. And the nursery rhyme is downright scary.”

  A wistful smiled played about Ali’s face. “I know why you love them. After-dinner tag in the summer. Remember? All the neighborhood kids would come play in our front yard.”

  “I do remember that. The boys wouldn’t let me play.”