The parking lot was empty. She'd just managed to miss the early breakfast crowd. Just as well. She still needed a little time to pull herself together.
Lily Quintano Yearling looked up the moment she walked into the small, homey restaurant. Her smile was warm, genuine. Still a workaholic, life in Hades had managed to unfurrow Lily's brow and forced her to appreciate the journey as well as the goal.
"I thought you weren't coming in until after nine or so."
For many of the miners and especially the gaggle of unattached bachelors who populated Hades, Lily's was a second home, the place where they ate not just an occasional meal but all of them. Her cooking brought memories of their upbringing back to them—if their mother had been a gourmet chef with a knack for turning even the most common of meals into a treat for the palate.
"I got lucky," Heather told her, shrugging out of her sweater. "I was at the clinic with the girls when they opened up this morning."
Pausing to straighten a tablecloth that had been put out only minutes ago, Lily asked, "How are they doing?"
"They're all better."
Thank God, Heather added silently. When the girls had first come down with the rash, she'd been afraid of complications. Or, at the very least, scarring. But the ugly blemishes had disappeared without a trace.
Lily shook her head as she crossed the room. "I don't know how you do it, Heather. You take care of the girls, who are clearly a handful, you're there for your mother and still you manage to work full-time."
To her it was just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other, getting through the day. But she had to admit, this was not the way she'd seen her life going when she was in high school. Back then she'd had dreams of going to college, of developing her artistic abilities and making something of herself. The world had held promise. Now it held bills with due dates on them.
"You do what you have to," Heather told her. And then she smiled as she looked at the slightly rounded bulge that existed where once Lily's flat stomach had been. The baby, Lily's first, was due in four months. "You'll find out soon enough." Her smile widened, reaching her eyes. "I've got a feeling that nothing will ever make you stay at home to be a full-time mother."
Lily had never been in the position that Heather found herself in. For a good part of her life, her older brother, Kevin, had looked after her and her siblings. And now she had a husband beside her.
"Yes, but I don't have a mother to care for and I won't be facing motherhood alone." Lily bit her tongue, as if chagrined. "Sorry, didn't mean that the way it came out. Max says I've still got a long way to go before I'm not so outspoken."
Once she stored her purse inside the hostess desk, Heather took out her small apron and tied it around her waist. She dismissed the apology. "Nothing wrong with honesty."
"Unless it comes with a razor tongue," Max qualified, coming up behind his wife. Slipping his arms around her waist, the sheriff of Hades paused for a second to nuzzle Lily before declaring his intentions. He nodded a greeting at Heather. "Now that reinforcements are here, I've got to go back to keeping the streets of Hades safe."
He moved his hands along her belly for a moment before he made his way around the table. "Take care of the little guy."
"Girl," Lily countered, placing her hand protectively over the tiny bump in her midsection.
Leaning over the table, he kissed her. "We'll see."
Heather couldn't help feeling a little wistful as she watched the exchange. She waited until Max crossed to the front door and exited. "He's really looking forward to being a father, isn't he?"
"Champing at the bit," Lily agreed. "Between Max and his grandmother," she said, referring to Hades's very lively postmistress, Ursula Hatcher, who had just recently taken a fourth husband to her bed, "I don't think I'm going to get a chance to hold this baby before she or he graduates high school." Ursula looked in on her at least once a day to monitor her progress. "Thank God June's going to give birth first." June was her husband's younger sister, who had recently bought back her old auto-repair shop at her new husband's suggestion. The latter also happened to be Lily's older brother, Kevin. "It's my only hope," she added with a grin.
And then, just like that, as if a cloud had suddenly passed in front of the sun, her smile faded. Lily paled.
A veteran of the silent battle being waged, Heather recognized the signs immediately. "Morning sickness back?"
Lily seemed to struggle. "It never left."
Sympathy flooded her. Heather shooed her boss away. "Go," she ordered. "I'll man the fort." Placing her hands to Lily's back, she sent the older woman toward the alcove where the two restrooms were located.
"To do that, wouldn't you have to be a man?"
The low voice that asked the question rippled over Heather's skin even before she turned around to look toward the doorway. With the exception of this morning, she hadn't heard Ben's baritone voice in seven years. And yet, it seemed to be imprinted on her brain.
"Sometimes you need to improvise." Forcing a smile to her lips, Heather turned to look at him. He wasn't wearing the white lab coat. Had he tired of being a doctor already? "What can I do for you?"
"It's more like what I can do for you." The smile that graced his face went straight to her gut like a well-aimed shot.
"Oh?"
Breathe, Heather, breathe, she ordered herself. The air in her lungs refused to circulate. It became a solid entity while her pulse raced like a car in the Indianapolis 500.
"Your mother called the clinic."
"Oh."
The news did not surprise her. Her mother often called ahead before she had a chance to arrive, as if she didn't think her capable of remembering what needed to be done. Forgetting her medication this morning only reinforced her mother's belief that she was generally incompetent.
"She said you forgot to pick up her medicine and to please have someone bring it over to you because you're liable to forget it again." Amusement sparked in his eyes as he told her about the call. Her mother's telephone manners were no better than her manners in general. Undoubtedly, the woman had gone on to complain about her.
Embarrassed, Heather flushed. "Sorry about that."
His smile only widened. He produced the bag with the medication inside and placed it on the table before her. "No problem. Shayne said to tell you it was being put on her account."
She started to reach for the bag until a thought occurred to her. Her eyes met his. "Um, who did my mother speak to?"
"Me." He tried to keep a straight face but failed. "You know, your mother has a great future in interrogation if she ever wants to start a new career."
Mortified, Heather found herself wishing that the ground would open up and swallow her. She wasn't even aware of murmuring, "Oh, God." But she was aware that her mother now knew Ben was back in Hades. And that there would be a host of questions when she went home tonight.
Chapter Five
Heather could just hear the questions her mother must have fired at Ben once she realized that he was back in Hades. She was surprised he had actually been able to break away in order to come here. Or that he had been willing to bring over the medication after the interrogation.
"I apologize."
He looked as if he wasn't sure what to make of her words. "For what?"
"My mother."
Heather moved around the small, homey restaurant, wishing for people to wait on. Usually at least a few stragglers came after breakfast, men who were in no hurry to get anywhere. But today there were only sunbeams there. No one to divert her attention from him.
Trouble was, even after all this time, raising her eyes toward him also managed to raise her body temperature several degrees.
"My mother has a tendency to be a little abrupt and say the first thing that comes to her mind." Which was putting it mildly. But calling her mother rude wasn't something she was inclined to do except within the recesses of her own mind. Embarrassed, she wanted to make it up to him somehow.
All she had to work with was food. She looked at him ruefully. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"
Ben smiled. "Trying to make amends?"
She flushed, but she would have to be dead not to respond to his smile. "Yes."
He laughed, shaking his head. Martha Ryan had been caustic and sarcastic in her questions about his return. But Heather wasn't to blame for her mother's behavior. He didn't want her thinking that he held her accountable for Martha in any way.
"I'd like some coffee," he told her, "but only if you'll let me pay for it." He placed a bill on the table between them. "To go," Ben qualified. "I told Shayne I'd be right back. I don't want him thinking that I've disappeared my first day at work."
Heather nodded. "I'll see what I can do."
Unlike at the lunch counter in the back of The General Store, or Ike and Luc's Salty Dog Saloon where food to go was a common enough occurrence, Lily's was considered a sit-down restaurant, somewhere that a person could carve out a few minutes of peace, either exclusively for themselves or with someone else. The idea was to enjoy a meal away from the hustle of the everyday world.
But in order to accommodate her customers on those rare occasions when they couldn't finish a meal, Lily kept foam containers on hand for both food and beverages. Heather tried to remember where they were kept as she walked into the kitchen.
It took her only a second to become aware that she wasn't alone. Her pulse rate had gone up again.
"I'll bring it to you," she promised. Opening the overhead cabinets, she discovered the cups and lids on her third try.
When she glanced at him over her shoulder, Heather found herself getting caught up in his engaging grin. It took effort to look away. If this kept up, her body would rival the consistency of two-day old pudding.
"I don't mind coming in here," he told her. "It gives me an extra couple of minutes to talk to you."
Why would he want to do that? And then Heather stiffened as the reason occurred to her.
Had Ben figured it out? Back at the clinic, when he'd looked down into Hannah's face, had he seen traces of himself in the little girl's features? He could have easily looked up Hannah's age in her chart and done the math. The possibility was right there, it didn't take a genius to see it.
Her tongue was so dry, she had trouble getting the words out. "About what?"
He began to say something, but her expression stopped him. "You've got that look on your face."
She had never been able to maintain a blank expression. All her thoughts, all her feelings, had always been right out there for the world to see. She would have made a lousy spy, Heather thought ruefully. One look at her face would have told the enemy everything.
But she tried her best to feign innocence. "What look?"
"The one that people get when they're facing an IRS audit and all their papers to back up their entries were destroyed in a fire two days ago."
She lifted one shoulder in a dismissive shrug and avoided making eye contact. "Sorry, just a little tense."
Ben thought of the all-but-one-sided conversation he'd just had before coming over to the restaurant. "Your mother live with you?"
"After she came down with myasthenia gravis, Joe built a house for her on our property. Just a tiny guest house, really," she explained. Although by no stretch of the imagination was her mother ever a guest, Heather added silently. "But for the most part my mother stays in the main house." They had a guest room on the first floor. She'd wanted to make it into a playroom for the girls but her mother had commandeered it right after Joe died. "So yes, I suppose you could say that she lives with me."
That would explain a lot, Ben thought. He'd looked up Martha Ryan's medical folder after she'd called the clinic just to familiarize himself with her condition. The burden of the disease she'd contracted had soured more than its share of people, and as he recalled, Martha Ryan hadn't had a sunny disposition to begin with.
No wonder Heather looked like a cat on a hot tin roof. A beautiful cat. But he wasn't supposed to think like that anymore, he reminded himself, not if he wanted to prove to Shayne that he was serious.
Though there was no one else in the restaurant, he leaned forward and said, "You've got a lot on your shoulders."
Was that admiration in his voice? She tried desperately not to pay attention, especially to how his breath grazed her cheek and goose bumps sprang up to mark its path.
She cleared her throat. "Nothing more than what a lot of other people have to deal with."
She was being modest, but then, if he recalled correctly, Heather always had a penchant for being modest, retiring. Which was why he'd been so surprised with the intensity of her lovemaking that single night at the lake.
Still waters ran deep.
He'd always thought that, looking into her eyes.
"Being sole supporter of two little girls and an invalid mother isn't exactly something most people have to deal with, especially not at twenty-nine."
"I'm thirty," she corrected.
"Oh, well, that makes a difference. Thirty," he repeated. "That puts you with almost one foot in the grave."
At times she felt like that. Worn-out and old before her years, especially after a go-round with her mother. But to hear Ben say it, especially with that little smile of his lighting up everything within a ten-mile radius, Heather could feel humor bubbling up inside her. Could laugh at her own seriousness.
Could feel his light drifting into her very being.
She pushed that down. This wasn't seven years ago. "You take it black?"
"Life?" His eyes held hers as he moved his head from side to side. "No. I generally take it with a ray of sunshine."
She pressed her lips together to hold back her grin. "The coffee."
This time he inclined his head. "As black as you can get it."
Heather had always liked her coffee a pleasant shade of light brown, made that way with an ocean of cream and a forklift full of sugar. She could never understand how some people preferred their coffee to have the consistency of asphalt.
"Alfred was retarring the parking lot behind the restaurant last week," she said, referring to the local handyman. "I could check to see if there might be some left."
His eyes shifted to the pot of coffee she picked up. "No, that'll do fine."
He was smiling again. Smiling right at her. A shower of lights rained over her, bringing with it an almost overwhelming warmth that enveloped her so tightly it was hard for her to catch her breath. Taking the foam cup in her hand, she filled it to the brim with coffee, grateful she hadn't spilled any over the top.
"So, how have you been?"
Setting down the coffeepot, she took a lid and sealed the cup. "Since I left the clinic this morning?" Done, Heather held the cup out to him. "Or since you left Hades?"
A bemused smile played along his lips as he watched her. She knew he was trying to figure out what she was talking about. That made two of them, she thought. "The latter."
"Okay." Like a marathon runner taking off at the sound of the starter pistol, she rattled off the events of her life in the past seven years. They squeezed themselves into a very small space. "I got married, had two kids, was widowed and started working here." Taking a breath, she forced herself to meet his eyes. "Not exactly something to turn into the movie of the week."
The tempo of her pulse picked up again but she refused to look away. She didn't want him thinking that she was avoiding him. The last thing in the world she needed was for him to connect the dots of her life and realize that he'd left more than just his impression on her that fateful night.
After she'd dealt with the shock of finding out that she was pregnant and the sobering news that she had no one to turn to, she'd made up her mind that Ben would never find out that he was Hannah's father.
Heather was determined to take care of her daughters, and she didn't need anyone feeling sorry for her. She needed a few good breaks. The most important had come in the guise of Alison's sister, Lily. When Lil
y had offered her work that afternoon at Joe's wake—a wake that Lily had catered and refused to accept any money for—it was all she could do to keep from crying. She'd accepted the second the words had been out of Lily's mouth.
"You're the one with the exciting life," she said, hoping to divert his attention to a more favorable topic.
Ben laughed softly to himself. "Not if you see it from this end."
Heather looked carefully at the man who had stolen her heart so long ago. It occurred to her that perhaps his life hadn't been quite as carefree as she'd assumed.
"I'm sorry about you and Lila." When Ben raised a quizzical eyebrow at her words, she could feel her tongue thickening in her mouth. "I mean, I just assumed that things didn't turn out. She's not here with you." Again Heather realized she was making assumptions that could be completely wrong. "I mean, she's not, is she?"
She bit her lower lip. "Look, I've got a lot to do—"
Bambi caught in headlights had looked more serene. Why was she reacting this way to him? "Do I make you nervous, Heather?"
"No." The denial instantly sprang to her lips. But she'd never been very good at lying. "Yes," she admitted. How hopelessly stupid that must sound to him. She shrugged, looking away. Wishing that some enterprising scientist had invented shots against sounding like a hayseed. "I don't know."
This time, the soft laugh was hers exclusively. "It's been a long time since I came across a multiple-choice answer." And then he gazed into her eyes. Creating tidal waves around her navel. "I don't mean to make you nervous, Heather."
He would have to stop breathing for that, she thought. And leave town again. For good. But because he was being so nice about the fact that she kept alternating feet and shoving them into her mouth, Heather shook her head at his words.
"You're not making me nervous," she lied. "It hasn't been one of my better mornings, and I guess I'm just a little surprised to see you back, that's all."
He grinned, and the corners of his eyes crinkled. And she melted a little more. "Not half as surprised as Shayne was last night."
"He didn't know you were coming back, either?"
The Prodigal M.D. Returns Page 5