The Most Eligible Doctor

by Karen Rose Smith

“I heard that,” Jed called as he unpacked supplies. “I buy wrinkle-free shirts and if I take them out of the dryer soon enough, I don’t need to iron them. Once in a while, though, I have to plug it in. You underestimate me, Dad.”

  Al’s eyes narrowed as he cut his son a sharp glance. “I doubt that.”

  Crossing to the kitchen table, Brianne took the orange cleaner from the bag, a packet of reusable cloths as well as a canister of bathroom disinfectant wipes, and headed upstairs.

  A half hour later, the curtains were spinning in the washing machine, the rugs hung over the porch banister and Brianne was almost ready to start the bathroom floor. Jed had bought two buckets, and she was using the smaller of those in the center of the floor. Cleaning was one of those chores she had to do, and she didn’t like it any better than the next person. Yet she’d known Jed was right about the condition of Al’s house. She’d seen the coating of dust on everything when she was there during the snowstorm.

  Once more she told herself she’d volunteered to help because the two men had needed help. Yet Jed’s invitation to dinner had thrown her into turmoil. Would he look on it as a date?

  No. He was probably taking her to dinner outside of Sawyer Springs so there wouldn’t be gossip. She shouldn’t look at it as a date. The dinner would just be repayment for a favor, and if she remembered that, she could enjoy the night and not get caught up in…passion.

  She heard Al’s measured footsteps coming up the stairs, and then he was peeking around the corner into the bathroom. “Jed’s scrubbing that kitchen floor like a madman. He’s even down on his hands and knees.”

  “Sometimes that’s the best way to do it.”

  “When Jed’s determined, there’s no stoppin’ him.”

  There were so many facets to Jed, she couldn’t help but ask, “Was he like that when he was a boy?”

  “You betcha! I remember one summer he planted tomato plants—about fifteen of them. And they all came up.”

  “I’ll bet his mother made lots of good things with them.”

  “Not exactly.”

  It was easy to see Al liked sharing his memories.

  “She used some of them, but that wasn’t what Jed grew them for,” Al explained. “Every day, he’d go out with his wagon, selling them around the town. When I asked him what he was going to do with his money, I thought he was going to tell me it was for a new football or a catcher’s mitt. But it wasn’t. He wanted to buy his mama a silver hand mirror he’d seen in Madison for Christmas. He knew we couldn’t afford things like that, and he wanted her to have something nice.”

  “I’m sure you’re boring Brianne, Dad,” said a voice from the hall.

  Brianne had been so interested in what Al had to say that she hadn’t heard Jed come up the stairs. “I’m not bored.”

  “She likes to listen to my yarns,” Al said, pushing past his son and starting for the stairs.

  As he watched his father slowly start down the narrow staircase, a worried look crossed Jed’s face. Did Al have trouble on the stairs?

  As soon as the older man was out of earshot, Jed asked Brianne, “Was your offer to help genuine, or did you just want to pry into my life? Did you figure if you couldn’t get answers one way, you’d get them out of my dad?”

  Jed’s privacy was evidently a bone of contention between them. He thought her motives were anything but pristine. Her own self-talk about why she’d offered to help urged her to wonder about her motives, too. Maybe she just liked being near him. That gave her a jolt that disturbed her almost as much as his words.

  Holding on to the temper he seemed to have lit again, she plopped the squeegee mop into the bucket, making the suds fly. “I offered to help because I thought you needed help. I didn’t want you using furniture polish on the floor! And I like your dad. I think he’s lonely. Listening isn’t a hardship for me.” That said, she ignored Jed, pulled the mop out of the bucket, squeezed it out and began swishing it back and forth.

  Stepping into the bathroom, Jed gently clasped her arm.

  “What?” she asked impatiently.

  “I’m embarrassed by what my father told you.”

  She stilled. “Why? It’s a wonderful story and a wonderful memory.”

  Jed shifted as if uncomfortable talking about it. “It wasn’t something I made public. Dad was the only one who knew the real reason for selling the tomatoes.”

  The hum of the TV floated up to the second floor. Meeting Jed’s gaze squarely, she asked, “Are you afraid someone might see that you’re not the tough guy you pretend to be? It’s admirable for a man to have a tender heart.”

  Releasing her arm, Jed took a few steps back. “Tender hearts are as vulnerable as idealistic ones.”

  She knew he thought he was wise and experienced and so much older than she was. She also knew he always tried to get the last word. This time it wasn’t going to happen.

  She pointed to his chest. “Your heart makes you who you are. I like that man I sometimes glimpse underneath the rough veneer. You shouldn’t try so hard to push everyone away. If that’s what you really want, you should have stayed in Alaska.”

  After that spate of thoughts, she turned away from him and went back to scrubbing the floor. A few seconds later, she breathed a sigh of relief when she heard his footsteps on the stairs.

  During the next couple of hours, while Brianne dusted and wiped, Jed moved furniture and vacuumed. When they passed each other, they kept moving. It was almost nine-thirty when she’d ironed the last of the curtains.

  Jed came into the kitchen and watched her dump the water out of the steam iron. “Dad’s snoozing in his recliner. Don’t feel as if you have to stay while I hang the curtains.”

  It was obvious he was anxious to get rid of her. Maybe he was even sorry he had accepted her help. “Look, Jed, about dinner…We don’t have to go.”

  “When I make a deal, I keep it. Are you free tomorrow night?”

  He obviously wanted to fulfil his part of the bargain and get it over with. So be it. “Yes, I’m free,” she said quietly. “Should I dress up?”

  “I’ll need to wear a suit and tie, if that’s any indication.”

  “It is.”

  His gaze stayed on hers for a few long moments. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  A few minutes later Brianne had donned her coat, said goodbye to Al and was on her way out the door. But this time Jed held her elbow and didn’t let go. “Thank you, Brianne. We do appreciate your help.”

  His words were gentle, and they warmed her as she stepped outside into the cold night.

  After Brianne left, Jed rehung the curtains. The house didn’t only seem clean now, it seemed less musty. And with Brianne’s touch in every room, turning a rug around here, straightening a picture on the wall there, it seemed less out-of-date. Less asleep.

  A short time later, Al said good-night and went up to bed, his steps on the stairs halting. Was his hip bothering him again? Jed wondered. Or maybe arthritis was developing in his knees.

  The telephone on the stand in the living room seemed to beckon to Jed. Taking out his wallet, he pulled out a slip of paper with two phone numbers. Then he sat and looked at the first. Maybe Ellie would be out for the evening. Maybe she’d be at one of the parties he’d started to recoil from during those last years with Caroline. There was only one way to find out.

  He punched in the number and waited.

  After two rings, his sister picked up the phone. “Hello. Ellie Sawyer here.”

  “Ellie, it’s Jed.”

  There were a few moments of silence. “It’s been awhile,” she drawled, with that scolding sisterly tone.

  “I know it has. I got your Christmas card.”

  “I guess you didn’t send any?”

  “Are you itching for a fight?” he asked.

  He heard her sigh and then murmur, “No. But I tried to call you last week at that number in Alaska and they said you’d left. The person I talked to didn’t know much of anything and
didn’t seem inclined to ask anyone. I’ve been worried.”

  “I’m sorry, Ellie. I’ve been meaning to call you. I’m at Dad’s. I’m practicing medicine here now. I thought if you called him, he’d tell you.”

  Now it was her turn to sound sheepish. “I haven’t called him since before Christmas. I’ve had so many projects to work on, so many meetings, a new—” She stopped suddenly. “We’re a fine pair.”

  “And Chris? Have you heard from him lately?”

  “Not since Thanksgiving. He was in L.A. for a conference and we went out to dinner.”

  “I know you’re busy,” Jed said sympathetically. “We’re all busy. But I think it’s time we put something more important first. Dad’s not getting any younger and I thought it might be a good idea if we had a…reunion within the next few weeks if we could swing it.”

  “Is he sick?” She sounded disturbed by that thought.

  “No. But it shouldn’t have to come to that, should it?”

  After a pause, she stated, “You’re right. It shouldn’t. Let me check my calendar.”

  He heard a rustling and then quiet pensiveness. Finally, she said, “It’s tight, but I could get away in two weeks. Maybe for a four-day weekend. Fly in Thursday, out on Sunday. Are you going to call Chris?”

  “Yes. I’ll see what his schedule looks like and then I’ll get back to you. I’ll try to catch him tonight, but if I can’t, will you be there tomorrow?”

  “In the morning.”

  “Okay, morning it is.”

  “Jed, how are you?”

  “Better,” he said, realizing that he was. Since he’d come to Sawyer Springs his outlook had changed.

  A little voice asked, Did Brianne have something to do with that?

  He ignored the voice and listened as Ellie responded, “I’m glad you’re better. Trisha’s drowning was awful, but I knew you’d get beyond it. Has Sawyer Springs changed in the past few years?”

  It had been that long since she’d been back. “Not a lot. They enlarged the mall, opened more movie theaters. There’s another grocery store on the east end now. Basically, it’s the same as when we grew up. I’m seeing it differently, though.”

  “Maybe I will, too. Are you thinking about staying?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. I’d better try to get Chris before it gets too late. He’s on East Coast time.”

  “All right. Good night, Jed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow,” he repeated.

  What would it be like to spend a weekend under the same roof with his brother and sister again?

  Maybe he’d have the chance to find out.

  Chapter Six

  The restaurant food had been wonderful, Brianne thought, as she rode beside Jed back to Sawyer Springs in his new SUV. They’d had a few awkward moments, mainly because of the vibrations zipping between them. Repeatedly, Brianne had tried to remember she was having dinner with her boss. Most of the evening, their conversation had centered on their work, Jed’s dad, the old Victorian house she lived in and the town’s penchant for ice-skating on Sawyer Lake.

  Now Jed was silent as he drove, and Brianne wondered what he was thinking, if he had enjoyed the evening at all, or if it had been a simple payback.

  As they entered the northern boundaries of Sawyer Springs, Brianne gestured toward the side streets. “That’s my old neighborhood.”

  “What was the address?”

  “Seven-fifty-one Barberry Circle.”

  “Do you want to drive past?”

  She thought about it for a moment. “Yes, I’d like that. I haven’t driven by since I sold it.”

  As soon as Jed turned down the street, she decided driving past her childhood home was a mistake. Her father had pulled her in a wagon on these streets when she was a toddler. On her bicycle she’d maneuvered around the tall maples, beeches and Fraser firs to visit friends. Granted, she hadn’t spent much time here since she’d been away at college, but home was home. Yet when she thought about that, it didn’t feel much like home anymore, either.

  Most of the addresses were clearly illuminated by lights on posts, on sidewalks or spotlighted by overhead porch lamps. When they came to 751, Brianne spotted a heart-shaped grapevine wreath on the door. There was light throughout the first floor, and she noticed lacy curtains in the living room windows.

  “Was it hard for you to sell it?” Jed asked.

  “The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. There were memories in every room, every corner. By selling it, I was afraid I wouldn’t feel my parents’ presence anywhere again.”

  “And have you?” His voice was deep and low, acknowledging the fact that his question might be a difficult one to answer.

  “Yes, I’ve felt them. I know it might be silly to some people, but I feel as if they’re angels watching over me.” She suddenly felt embarrassed at the naive, even childish thought. Yet it was the truth.

  Catching a quick glimpse of Jed’s profile, she didn’t notice any scorn on his face. In fact, he seemed to be thinking about what she’d said. “It would be nice to be able to believe that about the people we love.”

  “You can’t?”

  “I’m a doctor, remember? A man of science. It’s hard for me to believe in something I can’t see.”

  Suddenly he changed the subject, as if it made him uncomfortable. “When you were a teenager, what did you do on weekends with friends?”

  “Sometimes a group of us went to the country club for dinner, dancing, just hanging around watching the big screen TV.”

  As soon as she said it, he started the car again. “I did the country club scene in L.A. But you know what? I had a whole lot more fun someplace else when I was a teenager. Would you like to see it?”

  “Sure.”

  Making a right turn, Jed headed toward the east section of town. After a few more turns onto side streets, they passed a bar and a restaurant and finally pulled up in front of an old wooden building. From the glow of the streetlamps Brianne could tell it looked as if it needed a good coat of paint. The neon sign over the door was green: Joe’s Pool Hall.

  A few minutes later, Jed had parked and was guiding her inside. There was a short and battered wooden bar. Men and women sat before it, mostly drinking beer. Brianne definitely felt overdressed in her shantung teal sheath with its bolero jacket and matching high heels. But Jed didn’t seem to think a thing about how they were dressed as he led her through the bar area into the main hall. There were at least six pool tables, a jukebox, a Foosball game and a row of pinball machines. Mounted fish trophies were interspersed with the picture of a man and his latest catch. She assumed he was the owner.

  As Jed guided Brianne, his hand rested at the small of her back. She seemed to feel its heat through the camel wool coat and the fabric of her dress, though she chided herself that that was impossible.

  “Joe’s owned this place since I was about seven,” Jed explained. “I remember the first time Dad brought me in here.”

  “Uh-oh,” she joked. “It sounds as if you might be an expert at pool.”

  “I might be. Wouldn’t you rather have an expert teaching you how to play than an amateur?”

  When she glanced up at him, his eyes sparkled with the enjoyment of being back in an old haunt.

  “The closest I’ve ever been to a pool table is Ping-Pong.”

  Jed laughed. “Then it’s time you had your first taste of it.”

  Finding two high-backed chrome-and-vinyl chairs by an empty table, he took off his suit coat and threw it over one of them. Then he loosened his tie, tossed that on top of the jacket and rolled up his sleeves.

  He was so very sexy that she tingled all over just looking at him. He definitely seemed more relaxed than she’d ever seen him.

  As she took off her coat and laid it on top of his, she realized with dismay that her attraction to Jed was growing rather than diminishing. She also realized she didn’t merely feel attraction. Working beside him day after day for the past
few weeks, she’d learned to respect and admire him, too.

  After Jed racked the balls, he picked up a cue stick along the wall, chalked it and grinned over his shoulder at her. “Ready for your first lesson?”

  It was a rhetorical question, but her heart rate speeded up as she stepped beside him and waited.

  Jed taught her the basics, letting her try shot after shot. They both laughed when her ball careened crazily. She liked the deep, rich sound of his laughter.

  When her ball missed its mark yet another time, he narrowed his eyes and came toward her. “Let me show you where to put your hands.”

  Suddenly he seemed to surround her as his arms encircled her, and she practically dropped the cue stick. His chest was against her shoulder, and she found herself breathing more rapidly, inhaling his cologne and feeling his warm breath brush her cheek.

  “Like this,” he instructed. Holding the cue stick together, they made the shot. The ball in their sights spun and then dropped into the hole.

  “You make it seem easy,” she whispered, almost breathless now.

  His jaw rubbed her cheek. Or was it only her imagination?

  Straightening, he remarked off-handedly, “It just takes practice.”

  “Maybe the little lady should take off her jacket,” a male voice advised from behind them.

  When they both turned toward their observer, Jed’s face broke into a smile. “Rob! How are you doing? It’s been awhile.”

  As the two men slapped each other on the back, Brianne wondered if this was one of the buddies Jed had told her about. Jed’s friend was about five-ten and good-looking, with sandy-blond hair and blue eyes that looked at his friend in amusement. He was wearing jeans and a red football shirt.

  “I heard a bear got you in Alaska,” Rob drawled. “Never expected to see you back here again.”

  “Sawyer Springs must be in my blood. Or maybe it’s all those football games I want to relive.”

  “We’ll have to play a game of ice football on the lake while you’re here,” Rob suggested, with a wink at Brianne that told her he hadn’t forgotten about her.

  “Ice football?” Brianne asked curiously.

  “You don’t want to know,” Jed responded with a grimace. “Some people ice-skate on the lake in winter. We played football. It was the way to get more battle scars.”