"Mom, the reason I left. I'm not sure I've resolved--"
"We'll talk about it when I get there. You just think of this time as a long vacation. I really have to go. You take care. I'll be in touch."
Paige clicked off the phone, wondering if her mother was right. Was this just a long vacation? It didn't feel like a vacation when she was seeing patients. She thought about canoeing on the lake, the day at the amusement park. She supposed those activities would classify as vacation-like. But Clay and Doc seemed to think those things should be part of everyday living.
Who was right? Her mother, striving to heal anyone who didn't have adequate care? Doc, healing patients in his own environment? Clay, working and living and playing to get the most out of life?
Was one way better than another? Couldn't they somehow be combined?
Her mother was counting on Paige to return to Africa with her. Could Paige even contemplate disappointing her?
****
Trish's blond curls bounced around her face as she tried to pull the ball from Shep's mouth.
"Let it go and he'll drop it right in front of you," Clay suggested.
"You've got to be kidding."
Clay continued to thin out the rows of carrots in his garden. "Nope. It's his latest idea of a game. Just stand up and act as if you could care less."
Trish wiped her hands on her jeans and stood as tall as her five-foot-four frame would let her. "So...are you going to come to Reisterstown next Saturday and go with Michael and Dad to get measured for your tux?"
"Can't I just give you my measurements?"
"I want your opinion."
He took a long look at her hopeful face. "Trish, you know you're asking for trouble if you expect me and Dad to agree."
Shep dropped the ball in front of her. She picked it up and tossed it as far as she could across the yard. "Maybe you'll both pick the same one."
"Maybe Michael should make the choice and we'll go along with whatever he wants."
"Clay, I know Dad can be difficult, but I think he's going to try to be agreeable."
"As long as you agree with him. As long as I agree with him."
"It still hurts, doesn't it?"
Clay glanced down at the garden, stalling before responding. The crop was going to be good this year. With adequate rain, he'd have fresh vegetables all summer. "I don't know what you're talking about," he finally answered.
"It still hurts that you can't get close to Dad."
Clay's chest tightened and he forgot the garden and felt the pain. His father had been involved in his therapy until he realized Clay would not regain his memory. Then he'd bowed out of the picture as if he was just waiting for the impossible to happen. But that was the problem. Regaining lost memories was impossible in Clay's case. He had experienced joy each day in new accomplishments. But only his mother and Trish had shared them.
It shouldn't matter, but it did.
Shep came running back to Trish and dropped the ball at her feet. "Talk to me, Clay. You've been quiet since I got here. What's going on?"
It would be so easy to deny something was going on. But this was Trish. "I met a woman. Or rather she met me. And my life hasn't been the same since she drove down the lane." He told Trish about Ben and about Paige's requests for his assistance. He recapped the past few weeks events and ended by telling her about the nightmare.
"How do you feel about her?"
Paige had the ability to reach deep inside him, and he felt alive when she was near. Her wonder on the amusement park rides, her childlike pleasure at things he took for granted, like cotton candy and chocolate kisses, made him feel he was recapturing the years he'd lost. He believed his life would be so much fuller with her in it and the loneliness would fade away. But then he faced reality. "I don't want to feel anything."
"But you do."
"Too much," he muttered. So much sometimes it tore him up inside. Especially when he kissed her.
"Would the problem be solved by going to bed with her?"
Leave it to Trish to cut to the core. With Paige, he could never use the term "going to bed," or "sleeping together," or any of the other euphemisms. If he kissed her, if he touched her the way he wanted, if he buried himself inside her, they'd be making love. And he suspected the experience would be earth-shattering. But that he couldn't share with his sister.
Instead he said simply, "I think that would cause even greater problems."
"So this is more than attraction?"
"It's attraction on too many levels."
"It's easier for you since she's leaving, isn't it?"
"Easier?"
"Sure. If you wait it out, she'll be gone and you won't have to tell her anything."
Clay scowled, but he couldn't intimidate Trish or divert her questions.
"Would the risk be so terrible? From what you've just told me about her, she sounds understanding."
He straightened and rubbed his shoulder. "I don't want her pity."
"Understanding and pity aren't the same, Clay."
"If I tell her about the amnesia, nothing will be the same."
"If you don't tell her, you'll never know what you could have had."
"You don't understand."
Trish walked over to the edge of the garden so she could look at her brother without squinting into the sun. "Yes, I do. You feel as if you have a friendship with her now and you're afraid you'll lose that."
He had a little bit of everything with Paige--friendship, respect, desire. Yet he really had nothing at all. "It's more complicated than that."
Trish stuffed her hands into her back pockets. "Just remember--nothing ventured, nothing gained."
He'd ventured plenty of times and gotten hurt. Until he'd wised up. "I still remember Clare's reaction, her shock at the nightmares."
"They took her by surprise because you hadn't told her, either."
"But once I did...I can still remember her expression when I told her I had to memorize the photo album because the pictures really meant nothing."
"It's not fair to put all women in the same category. You're playing it too safe. Clare's the only person in Langley you ever told about the amnesia."
He hadn't even told Doc. Doc knew about the accident, about the head injury, about Clay learning to read and write again, but Clay had never told the physician he'd lost the first twenty-five years of his life. He thought about what Trish had said. Playing it safe kept him from getting hurt.
He looked at his sister and tried to explain. "I'm accepted here, Trish. Luckily Clare left town soon after our break-up or more people would know. It's hard to keep a confidence that is that...strange. So why tell anyone? Why would I want to put into jeopardy the camaraderie I've established and the friendships I've made?"
"To find something even better. You know, Michael asked me to marry him three times over the past year. The first two times I was afraid to say yes. I was afraid our relationship would change if I did. Well, it has changed. It's changed for the better. Fear could have robbed me of something very special."
She came over and knelt down beside him. "Did you do this row yet?"
He observed her manicured fingernails, polished in pink. "No. But you don't have to help to get me to Reisterstown. I'll be there if you want me there."
She smiled. "I know you will." She fished in his box of garden tools until she unearthed an old pair of gloves. "I need to learn how to garden. We're thinking about putting a contract on a house. I'd like to have a garden. You can teach me everything I need to know."
Yes, he could teach her about growing a garden, but she always taught him about life. It didn't seem a fair trade.
****
Clay closed up Doc's storage shed Monday evening, all the while aware Paige was inside the house. At least he presumed she was-her car was sitting in the driveway. They hadn't spoken since the night he'd kissed her.
Doc's truck wasn't in the garage, so Clay assumed Paige was alone. He could leave.
&nb
sp; But he remembered the hurt in her eyes when he'd answered her question about the kiss. It had lingered in their blue depths when he'd driven her home.
He went around to the front door and knocked. No one answered. Clay called softly through the screen door. "Paige?"
He tried the latch and found it unlocked. Going through the living room, he stopped in the doorway to the kitchen.
Paige was seated at the table, reading an e-mail on her laptop. She hadn't heard him come in and he didn't want to startle her. So he said again softly, "Paige?"
She lifted her head, and he saw tears glistening in her eyes.
He didn't think about whether he should or shouldn't go to her. He crossed the dining area and stood close to her chair. "What's wrong?"
She shook her head and attempted to keep her lower lip from trembling by biting it.
He clasped her shoulder. "Has something happened to your mother?" He couldn't imagine what else would cause her this turmoil.
She made an effort at composure and managed to stop her lip from quivering. "No. It's me. I don't know what I want to do, what I'm going to do, what I should do."
He pulled out a chair and swung it close to hers. When he sat, his leg brushed hers, but he didn't move it away. "What's in the e-mail?"
Paige ran her finger down a list. "Mother drew up a schedule for the next six months."
"New places?"
"We've been at some of them before. I just don't know if I can go back. The reason I left..."
Her voice broke and he took her hand. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to hold it and give her comfort. "Tell me why you left."
Her eyes filled with tears she couldn't blink away. She tried but then she let them come. "I lost a child."
Emotions crashed through Clay--compassion, sorrow, jealousy, astonishment. "You were pregnant?"
She shook her head and brushed her hand across her cheek. "No. It was one of the village children. I'd been treating her for two weeks and I thought she might be one of the lucky ones. But...she wasn't." Paige took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her other cheek.
Clay could see how upset she still was about the loss. It was as if she'd lost a child of her own. "Was this one special?"
Paige looked at him with such anguish that he wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until it all went away. She said haltingly, "They're all special. Mother says I get too personally involved, that I have to learn to stay detached. I tried. But I couldn't. This child, Clay, she was just one too many. I completely lost it. I couldn't stop crying. That's when I knew I'd been there too long and seen too much."
Now he understood. He understood her sadness and uncertainty. "So you came here to help Doc."
"That's what I told myself, that's what I told my mother. But I came here to escape for a while."
"Treating Doc's patients is an escape? A vacation to Hawaii is an escape." He squeezed her hand. "You're doing worthwhile work here, too. Paige, you can't go back before you're ready. You'll only hurt yourself and not help anyone."
She made a fluttering gesture with her hand. "But will I ever be ready? Don't you see, Clay? The longer I stay away, the harder it will be to go back."
He rubbed his thumb back and forth over the top of her hand, trying to soothe her, trying to give her something she needed. "That tells me you don't want to go back."
"I do."
"You can heal here."
Her eyes were huge blue pools. "It's not the same."
"Why?"
"People in the States have access to care. There are thousands of doctors here."
Clay slipped his thumb over one of her knuckles and then another. "What about Miriam?"
"What about her?"
"Would all doctors treat her? Would they deliver her baby at home?"
Paige closed her eyes for a moment. "But she's only one."
"One matters, Paige. And what about Ben? His problems are as real as unsterile conditions. The problems here are different, but they aren't any less important. You have to consider what's best for you and your patients."
She opened her eyes and stared at the wall ahead of her. "All my life I've wanted to follow in my mother and father's footsteps. I wanted to work beside them. I want them to be proud of me."
"How could they not be?"
She shrugged and gave him a sidelong glance. "I was away from them so much growing up. So when I was with them, every moment counted. I wanted...oh, I can't explain it."
But he could. "You wanted the approval and love you couldn't feel when you were miles apart."
She looked at him then. "Yes, but also what I did had to be special. I had to succeed. Don't you see? Not going back would be admitting I failed."
Paige was being torn apart by her parents' dream and her knowledge that that dream might not work for her. "Is it so wrong to want a different life from your parents?" he asked.
She shifted restlessly on her chair, her leg lodging closer to his. "I don't know. But I have to make up my mind soon. My mother's coming to Langley the beginning of July."
The beginning of July. She'd originally said two months. Now it was even less. "There's something else you might want to consider."
"What?"
"Is your mother's pride in what you do more important than your happiness?"
Her voice was a whisper. "That's the problem. I don't know."
Paige needed time to try out the "normal" life she'd never had. But it seemed time was the one thing she didn't have.
He couldn't give her the time she wouldn't give herself, he couldn't give her the solution to her problems, but he could give her comfort and the understanding she needed to work her dilemma through.
He turned her hand over and tenderly stroked her palm. "Whenever you need to talk, I'll listen."
She gave him a brave attempt at a smile. It was the bravery that made him lean forward to touch his lips to her forehead and give her a hug. That's all he'd intended to do. But the intention slipped by the wayside.
The fragrance of her hair caught him. The softness of her skin under his lips ensnared him. Her pliant response when her arms wrapped around his back to return the hug led him to her lips. She kissed as she did everything else--wholeheartedly, with all her being.
When he slid his tongue through her lips, only the first touch of her tongue was tentative. Then all hesitancy vanished as she tasted him as much as he tasted her. He wanted to get closer, feel more of her, but couldn't because of their positions on the chairs.
He stood and pulled her up with him, but the movement broke the intensity and Paige backed away.
Her eyes glistened again, but her voice was strong. "You said you didn't want this to happen. You said--"
She was thinking of him, not herself. How typically Paige. "And I meant it. Not because I don't want you. But because I don't want to want you."
"I know everything's complicated. I know I might be leaving, by why can't--?"
"I don't want to hurt you."
"What makes you think you will?"
"I don't believe you're the type of woman who just wants a fling, a satisfaction of physical needs. And that's all I can offer you." He must have gotten across his point because she didn't protest; she didn't ask any questions.
He wanted to reach for her again but knew he shouldn't. Instead he offered, "But I meant what I said, Paige. If you need to talk, I'll listen."
She squared her shoulders and tried to blank the emotions from her eyes. "I can talk to Doc."
She was choosing to withdraw from him, and he supposed that was best for both of them. He hoped he'd given her the comfort she'd needed for the moment. That was all he could do.
A few minutes later, after Clay had gone, Paige closed down her e-mail program. Her fingers trembled. Clay's kiss had done something the first kiss hadn't. It had made her realize she could depend on Clay, she could lean on Clay, she could talk to Clay, she could love Clay. She was falling in love with Clayton Reynolds and th
at idea scared her even more than the passionate feelings he aroused in her. What in heaven's name was she going to do about it?
CHAPTER EIGHT
The next evening, Clay pushed his cart through the grocery store, thinking about Paige--the tears in her eyes, the confusion in her voice, the fact that she might soon leave Langley.
There was no point chewing on it. It seemed Paige's parents had controlled her motivation and dreams from when she was born. Could she battle that and do what was right for herself? What was right might be going back to Africa, would most likely be going back to Africa. Change was difficult. Humans were creatures of habit. Habit for Paige was mirroring her parents aspirations.
Clay took two boxes of linguini from the shelf next to him and dumped them into his cart. As he pushed the vehicle forward, he spotted Ben coming toward him. He stopped.
Ben seemed embarrassed as he gestured toward his cart. "Mom made me stop and get stuff for supper."
Clay shrugged. "It's something I have to do if I want to eat." He glanced at the cane in Ben's cart. "How's it going?"
"It's going. Mom and Dad are pushing me to apply to colleges for the second semester."
"Are you going to?"
"I can't see the point. I don't know what I want to do. I don't want to feel guilty about Dad going into debt. It all seems pointless."
Ben had to find a focus, some goal that would drive him past his disability. "Don't give up the idea without careful thought. Education will give you an edge others don't have."
Ben's brows drew together. "You go to college?"
Clay nodded.
"What for?"
"Electrical engineering."
Ben's surprise was obvious. "Then what are you doing in Langley when you could be working in some big city?"
"I choose to be here, Ben."
"Because of your accident?"
"Yes."
Ben gave him a speculative look. When another shopper came down the aisle, Ben said, "I gotta go. Maybe I'll see you around."
Clay nodded again.
After Clay drove home, he stowed away the groceries then dialed Doc's house, realizing he didn't have Paige's cell phone number. She answered.
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