Return to Lone Oak (Harlequin Heartwarming)

by Knupp, Amy

  “Dr. Fletcher.” The T-shirt he wore—white, with a red Medical Missions emblem on the chest—revealed a set of biceps and pecs that up until now had been unseen. She would’ve noticed those, she thought distractedly.

  “Call me Noah,” he said, propping one foot on the far edge of her rock. He wasn’t even breathing hard. “You’re a ways from home.”

  The mere mention of home was enough to make his muscles cease to matter. “Home seems to be a relative term these days.” She couldn’t help the unfriendliness in her voice. Didn’t want to.

  He glanced down the trail, then looked back at her as if he were making a decision. “Mind if I join you for a minute? I could use a rest.”

  She shrugged and moved over on the rock. “You’re not even out of breath. I take it you run a lot,” she said, looking out over the water.

  “Every day. Sometimes twice.”

  That was fitting. “Weights?” She glanced at his arm muscles again, then dragged her gaze back to his face, noticing the angles of his jaw and his sandy five-o’clock shadow.

  “Some. You?”

  Katie shook her head.

  “Weights aren’t exciting enough?” There was a hint of disapproval in his voice.

  “Got something against excitement?”

  He looked directly into her eyes for the first time since he’d stopped. “It depends on the circumstances.”

  She skipped another stone before Noah helped himself to the pile between them and sent one of his own skimming—three jumps—after hers. She narrowed her eyes and concentrated, then skimmed another, frowning when it refused to go more than three skips.

  “You run much?” he asked.

  “Only when I can’t do something better.”

  “What would you rather do?”

  “Climb rocks.”

  “I can see why that wouldn’t work right now.” He glanced at her cast.

  “You going to buy our house?”

  “I’m thinking pretty hard about it. Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”

  “It’s too big for you.”

  “How do you know I don’t have a family?”

  “You don’t have that gets-along-well-with-others look about you. And also no ring.”

  Noah stared at her for several seconds, considering whether to argue, then deciding to ignore the insult. He couldn’t help noticing her profile was well-proportioned—full lips, dainty nose, thick lashes. A small but deep scar marred the left side of her forehead, the only imperfection in her smooth-looking skin. He was afraid to guess what had caused it. She needed to take better care of herself.

  “I want to see the house again.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. Between that brief look just now and her comment about the leaky ceiling when he’d gone through the house, he was starting to suspect she didn’t want him to buy her dad’s home. He couldn’t worry about that, though. Moving out of his parents’ place was a priority; he had to do it while he still got along with them. If he decided the Salinger house was the best for him, Katie would just have to get used to the idea.

  Noah climbed down onto the path and bent to tie a lace that was loose.

  Katie sent another small smooth stone skipping over the water before jumping from the high end of the boulder down to the dirt—a good four-foot drop. He cringed, thinking about her numerous injuries.

  “You heading back?” she asked, slapping the dust off her hands.

  When he straightened, he took in her tight, flat stomach—revealed between spandex running shorts and a hot pink sports bra—and the piercing of her navel. He struggled to pry his eyes away from it, tried not to think about how that delicate piece of jewelry was capturing his attention as none had before.

  “It’s an amethyst and a heart,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Aren’t you staring at my belly ring?”

  “No.” Yes.

  “So... Coming or not?”

  He considered going another mile, which was what he normally did, but he’d lost momentum sitting here. It’d be dark soon.

  “Why not.” He gestured to the path toward the city park and Katie started running. In front of him. He tried to ignore the way she looked in running shorts that revealed long, muscular legs.

  They jogged for a few minutes without speaking. The only sound was the pounding of their feet on the pavement.

  “How can you stand to run so much? Twice a day?” Katie asked finally, breathing hard.

  “Want to slow down?”

  “No. That’s not what I mean. Just... It’s monotonous and painful and possibly the most boring exercise on the face of the earth.”

  “You adjust to the pain—and running can be meditative. It keeps me from thinking too much.”

  “Ah.” She nodded, hesitated, and he thought she was trying to catch her breath. “Africa?”

  He faltered, lost his footing, jarred by the mere mention of it. Most people didn’t have any notion of what he’d been through. The few who did didn’t have the nerve to bring it up, and that was the way he preferred it. “What do you know about Africa?”

  She’d slowed, too, and now she stared at him. “Not much. I’ve just heard stories floating around.”

  He wished he could tell the women at the clinic not to discuss his past or his personal life without coming off as a pompous jerk. “It’s not much of a feel-good story.”

  “I heard you got shot.”

  His blood turned cold, but he forced himself to pick up his pace. “Yeah.”

  The seconds stretched out and Noah fought to keep his mind blank, using all his mental energy to push away those images before they took over.

  “Just...yeah?” Katie asked.

  He nodded.

  “Is that an ‘I don’t want to talk about it’?”

  “You catch on quickly.” He wished he hadn’t stopped when he’d seen her.

  “I noticed the scar on your leg, when you were sitting next to me. It looks bullet-sized. Or what I would guess is bullet-sized, since I don’t have a lot of experience with bullets making holes in legs. Am I right?”

  “If I answer that question, will you let the whole thing drop?”

  “For now.”

  Now was all that mattered to him, because he had no intention of spending more time with her. “Yes. I was shot in the back of the leg by a group of insurgents. What you saw was an exit wound.”

  “Wow. Did you...”

  “You said you’d drop it.”

  “Sorry. It’s not every day I meet someone who’s been shot.”

  Even that brief exchange put his nerves on edge. The tension in his shoulders and neck increased at least another ten notches and his body moved stiffly.

  A few minutes later, Noah had loosened up somewhat. He’d gotten good at ignoring everything other than the simple act of running, at turning his thoughts off all the way.

  As they approached the park, Katie let out a loud whoop, startling him out of his tentative calm. She bent forward dramatically, stretching and feigning exhaustion. Or possibly not feigning at all. Her face was pink and she gasped for breath.

  Noah went through his usual cool-down routine, walking in circles, gradually slowing his pace, stretching his back. The sun had fallen below the horizon, but the sky still held the last bits of light, forming a dark silhouette along the tops of the trees. Crickets chirped their summer song, luring him further into calmness.

  Noises over in the playground attracted his attention. Katie grabbed hold of the merry-go-round, pushing it in a circle as she ran around the outside. When she’d picked up speed, she hopped on then sprawled on her back, feet toward the center, head on the outside edge. Her hair blew over the side, flying behind her.

  Noah stood t
here, staring. What he really wanted to do was walk directly to his Tahoe SUV and drive home. But there were no other vehicles in the parking lot, so it appeared Katie might need a ride. He hadn’t been raised to leave a woman alone in a park at sundown.

  He took his time reaching the playground area, watching her spin as if she didn’t have a care in the world. He couldn’t relate at all to the concept.

  “You’re slowing down,” he said when he reached the moving merry-go-round.

  She laughed as she whirled past, then pulled herself up with her good arm and stuck out a foot to stop. Standing, she eyed him, her smile fading. “I don’t suppose you want to go for a ride?” She started running in a circle again, jumped on the same way she had before, and was lying down before Noah could blink.

  He couldn’t imagine himself running wild like that. He took a step back, waiting for her to slow down.

  “Actually, I came over here to ask if you want a ride home.”

  She didn’t answer right away. When the thing had nearly stopped spinning and Noah’s patience had just about run out, she sat up.

  “No, thanks. I’m going to go for a few more spins and then I’ll walk home.”

  “You were ready to collapse ten minutes ago. You’ve got a broken wrist. You shouldn’t push yourself anymore.”

  “You sound like a doctor.”

  The way she said it made it obvious that it wasn’t a compliment. Noah wondered why he was wasting his time.

  “Have it your way. Good night.” He headed to the parking lot, thankful, after all, that she’d turned him down and he could drive home alone.

  * * *

  LATER THAT NIGHT, the house was so quiet, Katie thought she might climb the walls. Her dad and stepmom had gone to bed a few hours earlier. She’d flipped through a couple hundred channels on satellite TV and had found nothing that held her interest for longer than a minute. Then she’d dropped by Lindsey and Zach’s house, next door, but it was clear they wanted to go to bed, so she left.

  She sat at the kitchen table tapping her fingers on the surface. Seconds later she jumped up and opened the refrigerator, but she didn’t see anything appealing in there. Remembering she’d left her laptop in the living room earlier, she retrieved it and returned to the kitchen table, plugging it into the phone outlet.

  When she had a connection, she opened her browser and checked all her usual sites—mostly bulletin boards for extreme sports enthusiasts—cursing the pokiness of dial-up internet. She wasn’t tempted to participate in any online discussions, so she headed to her in-box and sifted through her emails, answering a couple of them. She’d never thought about how many of her emails were work-related before. Now that she was on leave, her traffic had slowed way down—just when she needed interaction and conversation the most.

  Katie grabbed a box of fish-shaped crackers from the cupboard and then parked herself back at the table.

  Without really thinking about what she was doing, she found herself entering “Dr. Noah Fletcher” in a search engine and waiting nervously to see what popped up. Even though she had no earthly reason to be nervous.

  Several links appeared and Katie paused, asking herself what she was doing. Between having Noah threaten to buy the house and seeing the evidence of him having been shot, her curiosity was piqued and then some. Still...she debated closing the browser.

  Nah. What fun would that be?

  She clicked on the first entry and the website for Medical Missions loaded. An article detailing the organization’s efforts in the Democratic Republic of the Congo appeared and Katie began to read it, shuddering at the description of the situation in central Africa. She skimmed the article, looking for a mention of Noah Fletcher, but didn’t see one. Then she noticed the photo. Was that him? She clicked to enlarge it and read the caption.

  “Dr. Noah Fletcher arrives at the Medical Missions camp carrying a malnourished ten-year-old girl who’d been severely beaten. Dr. Fletcher was shot in the leg during an altercation with rebel forces but still managed to carry the young girl to safety.”

  Now that Katie looked again, she could tell it was him, but he was in such bad shape. Dirty. Exhausted. Eyes glazed with terror. No wonder, though.

  Katie sat and stared, feeling more than a little shell-shocked herself. Her mind spun with the possibilities of what might have happened to him. The journalist in her wanted to know more. Why had they shot him? How had he rescued the girl? Who would hurt such a young child?

  Was this the reason for the bone-deep weariness radiating from his eyes? An explanation for his inability to smile?

  Katie looked for links for more information, but saw none. She did a search on the Medical Missions site itself, but only turned up his media profile. No details on his accomplishments or on anything else he’d done for the organization.

  She went back to the search engine results and clicked on every link listed. He’d apparently spent some time on the East Coast and had been part of a family practice there before volunteering. But that’s all she found. A few listings on other medical sites, but nothing that told her more about what she wanted to know. About what happened in Africa.

  She shut her laptop in frustration. Based on that one photo, it appeared Noah Fletcher was a real hero.

  She began to see him in a different light.

  It didn’t mean she liked him. His uptight, controlling ways were enough to make her eyes cross. But she could admit—however begrudgingly—that her respect for him had increased significantly.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  KATIE ROLLED OVER, instantly aware of two things. First, it was far too early to get out of bed. Second, if she didn’t get out of bed now and do something about it, the wound on her chin just might explode.

  The cut felt as if someone was taking a pin and pricking drops of acid into her skin. Her head throbbed, and she knew, without touching it, that her chin must be puffed up like a blowfish.

  She flipped over and pulled a pillow over her head telling herself to go back to sleep, but that hurt, too. So she rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up, fairly unhappy with the world.

  Still drowsy, Katie made her way downstairs to the kitchen to find some breakfast. When she saw that Claudia had picked up a family-sized box of Lucky Charms, she nearly wept with joy. Sometimes it was the small things that got you through.

  She was bent over her bowl catching up on the contents of Lone Oak’s weekly newspaper when Claudia came in.

  “Morning, Katie.” Then she did a double take. “My goodness, what’s wrong with your chin?”

  Katie shrugged. “Hurts.”

  “It looks like it does more than just hurt. We need to get you back to the doctor.”

  As Claudia spoke, Katie finally woke up enough to realize she was right. Still, she groaned. “No. No doctor.”

  “Honey, that’s not something you can ignore. Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll take you in.”

  Katie finished chewing her cereal. “I’ll drive myself.”

  Her tone was sharp, making confusion and hurt appear on Claudia’s face, but Katie wasn’t in the mood to back down.

  “I can take care of myself. It’s no big deal.”

  Claudia sat in the chair next to Katie. “Katie.” Tentatively, she touched Katie’s forearm, and though Katie’s instinct was to pull away, she didn’t. “I know you’re still struggling with the idea of your dad getting remarried.”

  Katie met her gaze but said nothing.

  “I’m not trying to fill in for your mom, honey. We’ve always gotten along in the past and I know it’s going to take you some time to adjust. I just hope we can get back to that comfort level we used to have.”

  Katie slumped in her chair, pulling her arm away at the same time. She was acting like a bratty twelve-year-old stepchild and she knew it. The thing wa
s, she didn’t dislike Claudia at all. She didn’t blame her for marrying her dad and didn’t even really blame him for marrying her. In her mind, she understood they were in love and were happy together, and theoretically she wanted that for her dad. It was just that her heart hadn’t caught up with the logic. She couldn’t force herself to swallow such a gargantuan change and go on as if nothing was wrong.

  “Claudia, I’ll get there... I hope. But I’m not there yet.” She stood, shoveling one last bite of cereal onto her spoon. “I’ll drive myself to the doctor and I’ll be fine.” She carried the empty bowl to the sink.

  Claudia nodded, looking less than happy, but was wise enough not to push the issue.

  Katie found the number for the clinic and dialed it on her cell phone as she made her way upstairs.

  “Fletcher Family Practice.” Eve’s formal voice made her grin again.

  “Hey, Eve. Katie Salinger.”

  “Hey, what’s going on?”

  “I need to get in to see a doctor this morning. My stitches are infected. Is there any way I could see Old Man Fletcher today?”

  “What’s that all about?” Eve asked nosily. “Seemed like you got along okay with Dr. Noah the other day.”

  “He doesn’t like me. I’d rather see his dad.”

  “He doesn’t like anyone. You’re not special.” Eve chuckled. “Seriously, though, I’m supposed to give all call-ins to Dr. Noah.”

  “Why? What if the patient requests his dad?”

  “Well, I might be able to get away with it, but he’ll find out. He checks a couple times a day. Doesn’t trust me.”

  “So you’ll get in trouble?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. If you request his dad, that’s your prerogative, right?”

  “That’s my thinking. What’s he trying to do? Take over the whole practice?”

  “You noticed he likes control, did you? He claims it’s because he doesn’t want his dad working so hard. I promise you if Dr. Ivan Fletcher finds out, you’ll hear the blowup from there.”

  “Wouldn’t blame his dad a bit. I’d blow up, too.”

  “Okay. I’m writing you down for Dr. Fletcher, senior. But there’s one condition. You’ve gotta fill me in on what’s going on when you get here.”