by Kayla Perrin
Top of her call list. Jill was devastated. Mae had been trying to get together with her for weeks and Jill had kept putting her off. And yet, as soon as Jill needed her, Mae was right there for her. “I’m so sorry, Mae,” Jill whispered. “For the cancer, but also for not being there when you needed me. You’ve been such a good friend to me and I’ve—”
“All right, enough with the pity-party. You want to make it up to me, sweetie? You tell me about you and the delectable Dr. Palmer. I need to have something to chew on while I’m at my appointments next week.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Don’t play shy, sweetie. Your words say non, non, non, but your blushing cheeks say oui, oui, oui.”
“Okay.” Jill couldn’t help but laugh at Mae’s comical expression and Georgia-affected French accent. She told her everything: from her arrival at the clinic with the raccoon to Sherlock and her kiss, to the firemen’s dance and making love, to her argument with Grant about Austin, and her concern that that she’d been disloyal to Calvin’s memory. “Rachel was diagnosed almost immediately after Calvin died. She’s been my sole focus ever since. How can I have feelings for Grant if I’ve never even had the opportunity to mourn my husband?”
“That’s a very good question.” Mae had seemed to thoroughly enjoy hearing all the details about Grant, but now turned serious. “I know you hold yourself responsible for Calvin’s death, but if you look deep in your heart, you know there was nothin’ you could have done for him that night.”
“I could have been there.”
“True enough, but there’s no guarantee that things would have turned out any differently if you had been. CPR is all well and good, but when death comes knockin’ we can’t lock the door. You can’t save everyone, but you were there for Rachel when she needed you.” She reached across the table and grasped Jill’s hands. “People mourn in different ways, sweetie. Perhaps takin’ care of Rachel was your way of mournin’ for Calvin.”
Jill closed her eyes. At one time, the thought of her husband’s death had brought a pain that was searing and raw. Their life, their dreams, their future was gone. They had put off too much, always waiting for a time that never came. But you only have the present, she knew that now. There was so much in the past that she regretted not doing, but that gut-wrenching hurt was gone. Now, she felt sadness for a life that was cut too short, and grief for all that Calvin would miss. When had that happened?
“There comes a time, when you have to stop grieving and start livin’ again.” Mae took a napkin and wiped away Jill’s tears. “Maybe now is that time.”
Chapter 9
Shit, would this day ever be over?
Grant glanced at his watch. Lately, the days seemed to drag in a way he couldn’t ever remember happening before.
It had been more than a week since his disastrous date with Jill. She hadn’t come to the clinic—not even to check on Sherlock. He supposed Rachel could be keeping her updated on the dog’s miraculous recovery, but then again … Rachel had been acting strangely toward him, too.
He’d expected Rachel to come into the office Monday morning ready to tear a strip off him for telling her mother about Austin, but she hadn’t said a word about it. She seemed distant, though. Something was up with her.
Loretta had called last night to invite him to a birthday dinner for one of the boys—and, of course, to bring Jill along. He’d made some stupid excuse for not going, but he hadn’t fooled his sister-in-law. She gave him an earful about how terrific Jill was—as if he didn’t already know—and what an idiot he would be if he allowed his bad experience with Nancy—although she’d used a more colorful name for her—as an excuse to avoid commitment. Loretta wasn’t shy about expressing her opinions.
A dozen times or more he’d almost called Jill. Once he’d actually dialed the phone, but he’d hung up before the first ring. What would he have said to her anyway?
Rachel poked her head into his office. “Our last patient just canceled, so I’m off.”
“Wait,” Grant said. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” Rachel stepped into the office and closed the door. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to ask you the same thing.” He took a breath. “Have I done something to upset you?”
She seemed taken aback by the question. “No. I wish things had worked out with you and my mom, but …” She shrugged.
He did, too, but it was for the best—at least that’s what he kept telling himself. “It’s just that you seem a little distant, lately.”
“Oh, sorry. We got some bad news about Mae Pruitt. Her cancer returned and I guess it kind of bummed me out.”
“Mae?” His heart sank. “I didn’t know. I’m very sorry to hear that.”
“Well, you know what a fighter she is. I think she’ll be okay. It really threw Mom for a spin, though. Just when I thought she was ready to let me go, she seems to be holding on even tighter.” Rachel cocked her head and grinned. “You don’t want to try again with her, do you?”
Oh, boy. Minefield.
“That wasn’t fair of me. I know Mom’s not ready to move on yet,” she said quickly. “Anyway, you’ll be happy to know that I’m going to tell her about Austin tonight. I’ve invited him to dinner. Wish me luck.”
After Rachel left, Grant wandered over to Sherlock’s pen and released him. He’d been allowing the dog to spend the night in his home. It was good for the animal and he liked the company.
Shit, at least be honest. Sherlock was a reminder of Jill and, in some sick way, having the dog with him made her feel close. Like she didn’t hate his guts.
He’d also finished about half the bottles of Pinot.
He should just call her, try to work things out between them.
And then what?
Damn, he wanted her. There was no denying that. When he closed his eyes he could picture her glowing face, feel her soft skin beneath his fingers, the scent of her, the taste of her … it never left him.
But he also missed the way she challenged him, made him really think about his beliefs. He even missed her crazy passion for taking on lost-cause animals. But most of all, he missed her laughter. God, he’d loved making her laugh.
Sherlock was moving well, now. The paralysis in his leg was almost totally reversed. There was no reason for him to remain at the clinic. He needed to go to a home where he’d be well taken care of by someone with the energy and passion to follow-through on the prescribed exercise and rehabilitation regime. The Simmons, realizing their limitations, had surrendered him to Jill.
Grant picked up the phone and dialed her number. He listened to the answering machine, hung up, and dialed again—just to hear her voice. This time he left a message asking Jill what she wanted to do about Sherlock.
It wasn’t a ploy to talk to her—to get her to talk to him—Jill was officially responsible for the Beagle.
You just keep telling yourself that this thing with Jill can be just business and, maybe with time, you’ll actually believe it.
*
Jill ignored the ringing phone to focus on the man standing in front of her. “This is Austin,” Rachel had said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world that she would bring this person to their home without any forewarning.
Jill had taken Mae’s advice and said nothing about knowing Rachel was seeing someone. She should be thrilled that her daughter had finally decided to tell her about him. But she’d expected a conversation not an introduction.
He wasn’t quite how she’d pictured him. He was tall and slim with reddish brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. She suspected he wore the beard to look older because his skin was porcelain-smooth and he had a youthful air about him. He wore glasses, round silver wired spectacles that exaggerated the size of his hazel-colored eyes. He looked presentable enough in black dress pants and an olive-green golf shirt.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bennett.” His voice was far deeper than she’d expected from someon
e so young.
“Finally.” She hadn’t meant to sound quite so petulant.
He grinned at her. He had good teeth. “Yes, finally.” He turned to Rachel with an I-told-you-so look, which warmed Jill’s chilly attitude by a few degrees.
“I wasn’t expecting company for dinner. I’m not sure we have enough. Maybe you should come back another time?”
“Mom, really?” Rachel placed her hands on her hips and jutted out her chin in a manner Jill recognized as an imitation of her own defiant gesture. “I think we have enough food in the house that we can come up with something to feed all of us.”
“I’d be happy to help.” Austin’s gaze shifted back and forth between Jill and Rachel.
“He’s a really good cook.” Rachel’s expression softened when she looked at him. She turned back to Jill. “Why don’t you pour yourself a glass of wine and let us make you dinner.”
“I could make you a special cocktail. Tell me what flavors you like and I can create one just for you.”
“Oh yeah, he does it all the time at The Ceeps. It’s, like, his specialty.”
Jill took a bottle of wine from the refrigerator “I like grapes.”
She was relentless during dinner, digging through Austin’s past and quizzing him about his employment prospects. She was reminded of Calvin’s reaction to the first boy Rachel had ever brought home. Jill had chastised her husband for trying to scare him away through intimidation. Now, she was doing the same.
Austin, however, didn’t seem intimidated by her interrogation, and aside from some eye-rolling and the occasional “why would you ask that?” Rachel didn’t seem perturbed by it, either. In fact, the two of them presented a united front, often laughing at each other’s responses. Occasionally, Austin would take Rachel’s hand and lift it to his lips, particularly if she’d just come to his defense. “Your mom is only worried about you,” he’d say to her.
As much as she fought it, Jill found herself liking this young man more than she wanted to. It wasn’t only his openness and easy charm, it was the loving way he looked at Rachel even when he didn’t think Jill was watching. And more importantly, it was the glow of happiness that radiated from her daughter.
“We’ll do the dishes,” Rachel said, rising from the table.
Jill wandered into the living room. Finnegan and Joss trotted along behind her. Okay, so Austin seemed like a good guy, and he seemed to sincerely care for Rachel. But that didn’t mean their relationship was a good thing.
“Mrs. Bennett.” Austin stood in the entryway. “I brought you a cup of tea. I thought maybe we could talk, just the two of us.”
Tea? She’d rather have another glass of wine, but she’d had three already and was feeling a little lightheaded. Was it that obvious? She looked up at him. Oh, right. He was a bartender, trained to recognize the signs of intoxication. “Thank you.” She took the cup from him and motioned for him to sit. Sacha had been sleeping on the loveseat beside Jill. He rose, stretched, and hopped over to Austin’s lap. Traitor.
“I can imagine how worried you are about Rachel,” he said, shifting the cat to a more comfortable position. “I want to assure you that I will do my best to take care of her. I love her.”
“How can you know you love her? You only met a short time ago. And I really don’t think you understand her situation.”
“She’s been honest with me about her treatment and prognosis.”
“Really?” Jill took a sip of tea and eyed him over the cup. “Do you like kids?”
“Of course. Love them. That’s why I went into teaching.”
“You’ve probably always dreamed of having a houseful of kids haven’t you?” Jill didn’t wait for a response. “So how do you feel knowing you and Rachel can never have any?”
“Mom!” Rachel stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.
Austin held out his hand to her. “It’s okay, she’s just worried about you.” Rachel came to him and sat down on the edge of his chair. He turned back to Jill. “I feel the same way you must feel about not ever being a grandmother to her children.”
Jill hadn’t expected that.
“I love Rachel and she loves me.” The look he gave Rachel was so warm and accepting, Jill felt like a voyeur. “Yes, I know we can never have children of our own, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be parents. There are a lot of kids out there who need a good home. Would you love a child any less because it didn’t have Rachel’s DNA?”
“No, of course not.”
“Me neither.”
“Me neither,” Rachel added, smiling at him.
Jill was surprised that they had talked about adopting children. She had done quite a bit of research in anticipation of raising the subject with Rachel when the time was right, but she’d always felt it was too soon in her daughter’s recovery. Apparently not.
“What about Rachel’s plan to move to Guelph in a few months?” Jill wondered how this new relationship fit in with her daughter’s plans to return to school. Perhaps, she could enlist Austin’s help in persuading Rachel to delay it.
“Austin’s already been in touch with the school board there about getting his name on the supply teaching list,” Rachel said.
“And I’ve got a good reference from The Ceeps, so I can pick up a bartending job to help pay the bills until I get hired on full-time,” he added.
“Wait a minute!” The teacup shook in her hand and Jill put it down on the side table before it spilled. She stared at the two of them. “You’re planning on moving to Guelph together?”
“Of course. I don’t want her to go by herself. I’d be afraid she’d get so engrossed in her school work that she’d forget to eat properly and get enough sleep. She’s doing great, but she’s only just finished her treatment.”
Exactly the same concerns Jill had.
“Look, Mom, we don’t know what the future holds for us—none of us do. But I do know that Austin and I love each other.” Rachel slid onto Austin’s lap, displacing Sacha, who meowed and jumped down. “Life is risky. You never know what it’s going to throw at you. You know that better than anyone.”
Austin wrapped his arms around Rachel. “Are we moving quickly? Yes. Are we scared? Maybe a little. But I know when I get up in the morning, Rachel is my first thought. When I go to sleep, she’s my last. I don’t want to waste any time we might have.”
Jill leaned back against the loveseat. Mae had said pretty much the same thing when Jill had worried that Rachel’s cancer would come back. Then you’d be happy she got all the livin’ in she could while she was feelin’ well. That will make her all the stronger to fight again.
“You have given me a gift,” Rachel said, moving to sit down on the loveseat beside Jill. “It’s because of you I have my life back. It’s because of you, Austin and I can plan a future together. But it needs to be my life. It can’t be yours.” She took Jill’s hands. “I love you, Mom, and I will always need you, but right now, I need you to loosen your grip, just a bit, for both our sakes.”
Jill nodded, eyes glistening with unshed tears, and embraced her daughter. It was the first time in months that Rachel had allowed her to hug her for more than a few seconds. She was surprised by how strong and firm she felt. She’d put on weight, and her hair was getting a little longer—long enough, anyway, that Jill could see its color had changed from dark auburn to a golden brown. Another change marking Rachel’s independence from Jill. It suited her, though. “Okay.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all I’m asking,” Rachel whispered and kissed her cheek.
The house was quiet after Rachel and Austin left. Jill hadn’t even asked what time her daughter would be home. She was an adult. They were past that now.
Austin loved her daughter, and Jill believed him when he said he would take care of her. For the first time, in almost two years, she didn’t have to bear the weight of Rachel’s cancer alone. She had an ally.
But even as the weight
of caring for Rachel lifted from her shoulders, a familiar hollowness filled the pit of her stomach.
In the days following Calvin’s death, Jill had been terrified of what would become of her. They’d been together for so long, she hadn’t known how to live without him. But then Rachel had gotten sick and she’d thrown herself into caring for her daughter. Now that Rachel no longer needed her, Jill could feel the black emptiness engulfing her again.
There comes a time, when you have to stop grieving and start livin’ again, Mae had said.
Jill took a deep breath and the dark hole got a little smaller. She continued breathing deeply, Mae’s words repeating over and over in her mind. Gradually, the panic subsided.
Mae was right. Maybe that time was now.
Chapter 10
No one should look that amazing first thing on a Sunday morning.
Surprise, relief, and then out-and-out lust washed over Grant as he drank in the vision of Jill standing on his doorstep.
The morning sunlight highlighted her auburn hair, making her curls appear like a halo. She was dressed more casually than he’d ever seen, in snug blue jeans that hugged her hips—lucky jeans—and a brown leather and sheepskin jacket that hung open to reveal a russet-colored sweater with a boat-neck collar. The stiletto heels on her brown suede ankle boots gave her a good three inches on him, which he found highly erotic. Her cheeks were flushed, but he couldn’t tell whether it was from the cool morning air or if she’d applied a light dusting of blush. Regardless, she looked poised and confident, and sexy as hell.
“You’re here about Sherlock, I suppose,” he said, scratching his freshly shaved chin. He’d quickly thrown on a pair of jeans and an old London Knights hockey jersey to answer the door.
Jill’s eyes widened and she took a step back. “No. What about Sherlock? Is he okay?”
“You didn’t get my message?” If she wasn’t here about Sherlock, why had she come? “I called last night.”