by Ann Yost
She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I’ve lost my chance to have a baby of my own.”
“And you blame me?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I do. If you’d given us this chance last year things might be entirely different. Timing is everything, Baz. Your timing’s off.”
“You can’t really blame me. You’re a scientist.
You have to know that the endometriosis was growing back then. It’s probably been growing for several years. If it’s true that you can’t get pregnant now, there’s every likelihood that you couldn’t have gotten pregnant last year, either.”
“If it’s true?” Her voice scaled two octaves.
“Like I said. I’d like to get a look at that report.”
“You know what? It doesn’t matter. Nothing you say and nothing you do is going to matter. This isn’t about a report, and it isn’t about science. It’s about you letting me down when I needed you. You think it isn’t fair or logical for me to blame you? Tough.
We’re talking about my feelings here, not my brain.
In my head I know you’re making sense.
In my heart, I blame you and I’ll never, ever be able to forgive you.”
They drove in silence for the next thirty minutes. Hallie felt nauseous with guilt. She hated hurting people. She hated hurting Baz. But she’d told him the truth. When he’d turned his back on her she’d accepted it. When she’d gotten the news about the infertility, she’d accepted that, too. But he’d come back expecting her to be ready and available and that was no longer the case.
She didn’t feel the same way about him. The sooner he understood that, the better.
She finally spoke when they turned off the M-15 and onto Main. “Could you drop me off at the bank?”
“Why?”
“There’s a town council meeting tonight. I’m supposed to make a report on preparations for the ice festival.”
“I’ll come with you.”
She thought about sitting through a two-hour meeting with those gray eyes boring into the back of her head. “Not a good idea.”
“Why?”
“You’d be bored. Anyway, it’s going to be short. I can get a ride home with someone.”
“Like who? The sheriff?”
She shook her head. She doubted Jake was even speaking to her anymore after her crazy behavior at the pond.
“Like your brother.”
Chapter Seven
Baz checked his watch and groaned. Five minutes had passed since the last time he looked.
Not even five. More like four and a quarter.
He scowled as he paced the perimeter of the room. The study was too damn small. He wanted to stretch out his stride, to eat up the ground under his feet. He wanted to go for a run on the beach. What he really wanted was to shake Hallie until she changed her mind.
I blame you and I will never, ever forgive you.
Fear trickled down his spine in the form of perspiration. What had he expected? It was his fault she hadn’t had her shot a year ago. It was his fault he hadn’t come to reclaim her until last week. It was his fault she wouldn’t get to be a mother. While he squandered her chances, he’d helped another woman become a mother.
He couldn’t wait until she found out about that.
No wonder she wouldn’t forgive him. Hell. He’d never forgive himself.
Damn. Damn, damn, damn.
He’d never had any knight-in-shining-armor instincts until he’d met Hallie. If he hadn’t known her, he’d never have helped Nicole. If she hadn’t known him, she’d have been involved with some other man and probably a mother already, or at least someone who would have had the brains to say yes when she asked.
He thought about Robert and the miracle of his birth, and he clenched his fists. Hallie would never have that. His jaw tightened. She could blame him from here until doomsday, but it didn’t change anything. She belonged to him. He’d never been so sure of anything in his life.
Baz stared out the window into the black night.
It was never this dark in L.A. The city lights kept the sky the color of charcoal. In the daytime, it was mostly a lighter shade of gray. This past year he couldn’t remember seeing blue sky. He couldn’t remember seeing bright colors. It wasn’t L.A. It was Hallie.
God, he’d missed her.
He checked his watch again. She’d said it would be a short meeting, and it had already lasted ninety minutes. Was the sheriff there? Probably. If Baz had been in his shoes, he’d have been at that damn meeting.
He needed to do something. He grabbed a jacket and headed for the street. If nothing else, a run in the sub-freezing night might release some tension.
“We’ve received official permission from the Bureau of Indian Affairs,” Cam Outlaw told the town council. “Weather permitting we can break ground on the resort as soon as we get the go-ahead from the Tribal council.”
Everyone knew Cam and his partner, Bangor developer Nate Packer, didn’t need permission from either the B.I.A. or the Blackbird Reservation’s Tribal Council, but it was important to maintain friendly relations with the tribe, especially since the Blackbird Casino was the lure that would bring tourists to the luxurious Sunrise Resort and Spa scheduled to open in early summer.
All of central-western Maine needed economic development. The resort would create jobs for construction workers and hotel employees. It was a huge asset to the casino enterprise. Tourists would come to gamble, and they’d find luxury. They’d stay for longer periods, and they’d come again. All of that meant more money flowing into Eden County.
The only real objections had come from a small but vocal group of young men from the Rez who claimed Cam and Packer were planning to exploit the Native Americans. They were deaf to the argument that the resort and spa would complement each other, which meant more money for the Rez.
Hallie knew how badly the tribe needed every cent it could get. Her friend, Molly Whitecloud was a certified midwife, the only medical professional at Blackbird. Molly’s dream was to build a community clinic for her people.
Cam’s report reminded Hallie she had a message for him. She delivered it on the way home.
“I spoke with Molly just before Christmas. With all the uproar of the holiday and everything, I forgot to tell you. She said the council elders will vote at their meeting next week. She expects them to vote unanimously in favor of the project.”
Cam’s square jaw seemed to tighten as he guided his maroon-colored Mercedes through the dark, quiet streets of Eden. Hallie had seen that reaction before when Molly’s name was mentioned.
It was as though Cam stepped back from the conversation. She wondered why. Was there some bad blood between Cam and Molly? They were about the same age. Had they known one another before he went off to college and then Boston?
Hallie wanted to ask but she didn’t. Molly Whitecloud was a good friend. If she wanted to confide in Hallie she would. And she certainly wouldn’t invade Cam’s privacy without asking. Baz’s brother had shared his family including his darling daughter with her. She liked and respected him too much to pry.
But she really wanted to know.
“Oh, there’s one more thing. Molly said there might be a demonstration at Tribal Council meeting.
You know, those hotheads who don’t want the lines between whites and Indians blurred.”
“Okay.”
“She’s afraid there’ll be trouble. They plan to have police at the meeting. Jake’s jurisdiction doesn’t extend to the Rez. She must mean the tribal cops.”
Cam glanced at her. “Tribal cop.”
“What?”
“There’s only one,. Davey Tall Tree. He weighs about three hundred pounds and likes to wear bedroom slippers with his uniform. Oh, and he’s a big fan of Wayne’s World. Need I say more?”
Hallie grimaced. “Maybe Jake could come as an observer.”
“Probably a good idea. He looks real intimidating in that uniform. By the way, what’s up between the two o
f you? I thought there was something developing in that direction.”
“We’re destined to be friends. For some unknown reason, sometimes things that seem obvious to everyone else just don’t work out.”
“Baz?”
The man was entirely too perceptive. “He’s a complicating factor but, honestly, I’m not the right woman for Jake. He’d have figured it out sooner or later.”
“So what is up between you and my brother?”
She noticed he’d neatly deflected the conversation away from Molly. “He wants to take up where we left off last year. I don’t.”
“C’mon, Hal. I saw the way you came apart at the ice rink. You still have feelings for the guy.”
There was no real reason not to tell Cam about the infertility. He’d be sympathetic and closemouthed.
Maybe it would help him understand what was going on in his family circle. She gave him the thumbnail version.
“Shit.”
“Yeah. Well, stuff happens. I’ll be fine. Baz will be fine, too. All we have to do is get through the next three months.”
“I know from my brief marriage that three months can seem like an eternity.”
It was the first time Cam had confided anything about his past. “Do you think you’d have been divorced if she hadn’t died?”
He shrugged. “Hard to say. I didn’t realize how miserable I was until it was over. Then there was Daisy.”
Hallie smiled. She always smiled when she thought of the little tyrant. “You are so lucky.”
It was nearly eleven when she finally fell into bed. Sleep, for once, came quickly and blessedly, but when a harsh buzzer awakened her sometime later, she didn’t feel refreshed. She opened one eye and peered at the bedside clock. No wonder.
She’d only been asleep nine minutes.
Hallie slammed the pillow over her head, but she could still hear the irritating buzzer. It took a long minute for her to figure out it was coming from the doorbell outside the clinic.
Emergency.
She shot out of bed, pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, and pounded down the outside steps.
Her heart contracted at the sight of the small group huddled around the clinic door.
“Hi, gang,” she said, her voice soft and sympathetic. She touched Marge Gregory’s broad shoulder and smiled, gently, at each of the three children. “It’s time?”
She phrased it as a question but it really wasn’t.
The Gregory’s little white poodle, Snowball, had made it to the impressive age of sixteen. Even though the dog still looked like a puppy, he was the equivalent of one hundred and twelve in human years. He’d had a great life.
It was never easy to lose a loved one. “Come on in,” she said, trying to maintain a professional attitude in the face of their obvious sorrow.
This was the part of her job she hated. With the shock of Baz’s presence and her fatigue, her coping skills were scraping the ground. She ushered the soon-to-be-bereaved family into the waiting room and winced at the Christmas tree decorated with ribbons and dog biscuits.
“Why don’t you all have a seat out here. I’ll be back in a minute.” Hallie moved to the examining room and flipped on the lights. She’d started to prepare the syringe of pentobarbital sodium when she heard Baz’s low voice behind her.
“What’s going on?”
A shiver ran down her spine.
“What’re you doing here?”
“The buzzer rings in the house, too. I figured I’d find out what’s up.”
The gray eyes were steady on her face. She knew he could see exactly what she was feeling because he put a steadying hand on her shoulder.
The tears were very near the surface now.
“Euthanasia?”
“I’ve got it covered. You can go back to bed.”
He swore. “You’re exhausted, Halliday. Let me do it or tell them to come back in the morning.”
His comment didn’t indicate heartlessness.
Euthanasia was routine for most vets. But it was never routine for the family.
“I can’t do that.”
“Why the hell not? You’re out on your feet.”
She looked into his flashing silver eyes. He was trying to take care of her. Did he think that, since he’d failed to give her a baby he could make it up by helping her with office stuff? “I told Marge I’d do it
when they finally got adjusted to the idea. They got adjusted tonight.”
“Your hands are shaking.”
She couldn’t swallow around the lump in her throat as she went to the waiting room to retrieve Snowball. Each Gregory gave their pet one last kiss.
“Sit down,” Baz commanded, as soon as she returned to the treatment room. He held the syringe in his hand. He took care of it with calm efficiency. It was all over quickly and, in spite of herself, Hallie felt grateful.
Baz cleaned up the room then he stood in the doorway and listened to the soft words of comfort Hallie gave the family. She was too damn softhearted for this job. She needed someone to protect her, to soften the risks inherent in the profession. He should have seen it last year but he’d
been too busy protecting himself.
Tonight he’d give his soul to be able to drive away her pain. A night of hot, over-the-top sex might do it, but that wasn’t an option. He should’ve kept his hands off in the Jacuzzi, too. He had to find a way to show her he understood her disappointment. That he shared it.
The bell jingled as the family left. Hallie’s slim figure was silhouetted in the arched window. Her disheveled curls gleamed in the low light. She had her arms wrapped around her waist as though she could draw some comfort from her own embrace.
He moved behind her and slid his arms around her, cocooning her with his body. He thought she’d protest, but she didn’t. He stood there a long, long time letting his warmth seep into her until her stiff body relaxed against him.
She fit him so perfectly. He lowered his chin to rest it on top of her brown curls, and he stroked his hands up and down her arms. She trembled, and he felt his blood pooling in his groin. He still found it hard to believe she always had this effect on him.
One touch and he was ready to launch. Sometimes all it took was a look.
He felt his brain stand down as desire streaked through his body. Dimly, he heard her voice.
“It was the right time.”
“What?” His voice was thick with need, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“For Snowball. It was the right time to do it.”
Snowball. It took him a minute to figure out she was talking about the late, lamented poodle. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, it was.”
“They loved him so much.” Her voice broke, and he felt her sucking in deep breaths, trying not to cry.
He turned her in his arms and pressed her head against his shoulder hoping she would feel his warmth and compassion and not his arousal.
“Life and death, Hallie. That’s the cycle. Come on.” He drew her over to the sofa and down on his lap.
Hallie didn’t protest. Sitting down she fit him perfectly, too. She leaned her head back against his shoulder and let out a little sigh. He tried to ignore his physical response and provide her with the comfort she craved.
When she snuggled closer, though, she rubbed against his fly. His erection flexed against her.
“Baz,” she said.
“It’s an involuntary response.” He knew he sounded like a kid making excuses.
She turned toward him, her face reflecting amusement. “I know what it is.” She placed a soft hand on his cheek. “Thanks for helping me, partner.”
“You’re welcome.” He waited to see if she’d say anything else, but she didn’t. He needed a neutral topic. Something completely non-sexual. “How’s the bat?”
“I put him back in the attic. He might fly a little crooked after this.”
Baz smiled. He started to lower his head. He
could almost taste the sweetness of her mouth
, hear
the soft little sound she’d make. He knew she
wouldn’t protest.
Instead, he gathered himself and brought them
both to their feet. “It’s late, Hallie. C’mon. I’ll walk you home.”
She said nothing.
He tensed. Did she think he was making a pass?
“I meant I’ll walk you to the stairs.”
“Hush. I knew what you meant.” She placed her forefinger on her lips and pressed it to his mouth.
He stifled a groan, left her at her door, and limped back across the yard. This couldn’t go on much longer. He’d waited way too long for Hallie. A full year. He couldn’t rush her though. Time was his friend in all this. Time and luck.
He’d really need the luck.
Hallie was a warm, loving woman. She’d probably forgive him, eventually, for the whole infertility debacle. The business with Nicole, however, would take a helluva lot of explaining especially since he kept having doubts about Robert.
Should he have left the baby with his flighty mother? Would the kid be all right? He missed the boy like the devil. Oddly enough he wanted Hallie to meet him, but that was unlikely to happen. Robert was the living proof of Baz’s treachery. Every time she looked at the baby, she’d think about the baby she couldn’t have. Anyway, Robert belonged to Nicole.
Baz scrubbed a hand down his face.
What a damn mess.
****
The next few days represented a period of détente. Hallie tried to enjoy the peace, but it wasn’t easy to relax. She spent most of the day with Baz, her resistance to him wavering dangerously. Not only was he pleasant and helpful around the practice, he seemed to be a hit in the community.
He’d joined the ice festival committee, too. She didn’t know whether it was that community-minded gesture or his hero status, but every client greeted him with real enthusiasm.
He fit into the small town. Not the way she did, because she lived here and worked here. She had joined the community. Baz belonged in a more fundamental way. He’d been born here as had his father before him.
He would always belong to Eden.
She tried not to dwell on that and to focus only on the improved relationship between them. Baz seemed to have gotten the message. She felt equal parts of relief and disappointment about that.