“Jeremy...”
“That’s a good idea. You and Jack would make good parents for Frenchie. Yeah. I like that.”
Sophie shivered. He was trying to tell her something and she didn’t like any of it. “Jeremy, where are you right now?”
“I’m in a phone booth.”
Sophie ran through the phone booths she knew of in town. Mini-markets. Grocery stores. And Jack had said he’d met Jeremy at a gas station. “Where exactly? I’ll come get you.”
“No, Sophie. I have to do this myself.”
“Do what?”
“You know. Go out...in a blaze of glory.”
Terror struck her. “No, Jeremy, you’re not alone. I’m coming there.” In the background, she heard the clanging bells of a railroad gate being lowered. Then she heard a train whistle. He was on the other side of downtown at one of the two gas stations along Indian Lake Drive. “You stay where you are. I’m coming.”
“Really? You know where I am?”
“Jeremy, I’m here for you. I’ll find you. Always.”
Sophie dashed out of Eleanor’s office and shouted, “I’ll call you!”
“Good luck!” Eleanor offered as the door banged behind Sophie.
* * *
SOPHIE FOUND JEREMY right where she’d guessed he’d be, sitting on the concrete directly beneath the phone booth with his knees to his chest, his arms wrapped around his skinny legs and his head resting on top of them. He didn’t get up as she approached, though he did raise his head.
He had a hollow look in his eyes. She could only guess at how much heroin he’d done that morning.
She got out and opened the passenger car door. “Come on.”
Slowly, he rose with the creaks and stiffness of a seventy-year-old. “Where are we going?”
“You tell me. You left the shelter. Where do you live now?”
He eased himself into the seat while she held the door. “With Buddy.”
“I’ll just bet he is,” she growled angrily.
Jeremy gave her directions to a run-down section of commercial buildings that were now used as body shops, machine repair shops and storage facilities. Or places where addicts could crash.
On the north side of the street from the commercial buildings was a row of dilapidated houses, which looked like they hadn’t been painted or repaired in decades. Jeremy pointed to a house with peeling gray paint and disintegrating front steps. “You left the shelter for this?”
He avoided her gaze by opening the door. “Yeah. Brilliant of me, huh?”
“What exactly does this Buddy do?”
“He’s got friends. He helps people like me. Like you do.”
“Buddy’s not normal, is he? He’s a dealer.”
Jeremy got out of the car and slammed the door with surprising force. He leaned over the roof as she got out and faced him.
“Look. You did your job today. You saved me.”
“Jeremy, you are not my job or my mission. You are not a project. You are a person. A human in trouble. I want to help, but not if you don’t want me to.”
He lowered his eyes.
She realized he was crying.
“I did today.”
“Then that’s enough,” she said, compassion filling her voice and her heart.
He opened his eyes. “You’re about the most wonderful person I’ve ever met, Sophie. And I’m trying to be better. I am.”
“Then let me take you back to the shelter. I don’t feel right leaving you here.”
“I’ll be fine. I promise. Tomorrow will be better.”
Sophie felt hope spark inside her. That was one of the key phrases Eleanor had told her to watch out for. If an addict talked about hope, if anyone who was depressed spoke of hope, then there was hope.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
She leaned into the car and pulled out her purse, digging around till she found a scrap of paper and a pen. “Jeremy. You call me on my cell. Okay? I have it with me all the time, except when I’m in surgery. Anytime you feel... Whenever you need me, you call me. It was pure luck that I was at the Alliance today and was able to talk to you.”
“Yeah,” he said, stuffing his fists in his pockets. It was eighty degrees outside and he was wearing the sweatpants she’d bought him at the Goodwill.
Concern and compassion exploded in Sophie. She couldn’t help putting her arms around his scrawny frame and giving him a hug. “I want you to be well, Jeremy. That’s all.”
“I know, Sophie. Thanks.”
He broke away from her and shuffled into the house. The rickety steps barely moved under his weight.
Her heart melted all over again and what little hope had sprung to life inside her froze.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
JACK SLID HIS car into the parking space two blocks from his office, directly across from the county library and around the corner from Maddie’s café and Grandy’s Groomers. He turned off the engine and punched out Sophie’s phone number.
The call went to voice mail. Again.
“Hi, it’s Jack. Just wanted to say good morning. It’s a beautiful day and I was wondering if you’d be up for a run tonight around the lake. No rain predicted. That’s a plus. Call me back. ’Kay?” He hung up and looked at Frenchie, who was staring at him from her doggie seat on the passenger’s side of the car.
Jack shrugged. “So, she’s busy. It’s early. Not even seven thirty. I bet she’s got an early surgery today.”
Frenchie didn’t blink.
She recognized excuses when she heard them.
“You’re too smart. Okay. Come here,” he said, gathering the dog, her leash and a new tote with her treats in his arms.
“I need a latte. Then we’ll tackle the world.”
When he entered the café, Chloe Knowland greeted him with her usual pert smile.
“Hey, Jack! Hi, Frenchie.” Chloe reached out to pet the Yorkie-Poo.
“She’s a cutie, isn’t she?”
“Yep. Adorable. You want the regular?”
“Sure do. To go.”
Chloe began making a latte and then turned to the cupcake display case, pulled out a yellow cupcake and squirted vanilla bean whipped cream icing on top.
A voice behind him said, “Lucky dog.”
He turned slowly. Sophie. She gave him a smile so warm and powerful it could crack through a glacier. It certainly caused the earth to quake under his feet.
He managed to smile back.
“I’m just guessing that vanilla cupcake Chloe is wrapping up will find its way into Frenchie’s mouth.”
“Sweets are bad for dogs,” he countered, with a mischievous gleam in his eye.
“But you don’t abide by those rules, do you, Jack?”
He reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “Well, some rules are meant for breaking.” He chuckled and handed Chloe his money.
Sophie’s grin was filled with self-satisfaction. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Is that right?”
She nodded and petted Frenchie. “Sorry I missed your call, but I was sitting by the window and saw you coming in. I thought I’d walk back with you to your office. I don’t have a surgery till eight thirty. I got a little reprieve this morning.”
Jack took the latte and handed the cupcake box to Sophie. “Could you hold this till we’re outside? I’ll let Frenchie walk to the office.”
They left the café and Jack put Frenchie on the sidewalk.
Sophie looked at Jack. “I wanted to talk to you—but not on the phone.”
His breath caught. “This doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s private. So I wanted to talk to you, er, privately.”
Jack watched Fr
enchie as they walked. “Is this about our kiss? Because that’s why I was calling you so much.”
“Actually, yes.” She nodded, but kept her gaze ahead. He wasn’t sure how to read that.
Jack pulled up short, took her arm and turned her toward him. He needed to see her eyes. See if he’d been mistaken. A smile crept onto her lips, lighting the fire in her eyes that he’d seen during the storm. “And what did you want to tell me about that kiss?”
She hesitated. “I, uh—”
He cut her off. “Because I wanted to say that I hoped it was the first of many.” Hundreds. Thousands. He rushed on, “You weren’t going to give me that, ‘Oh, it was all a mistake speech’ were you?” He swallowed a burning lump in his throat. When had Sophie come to mean so much to him?
“No, Jack,” she said earnestly, touching his arm and not letting go. “I wasn’t going to say anything like that at all. I wanted to apologize. I’ve been so busy for the past couple days that I’ve barely had time to text you back. I didn’t want you to think I was avoiding you.”
“Really?” He felt his heart flip over. Joy? Was that what this feeling was? “Because I was worrying... I mean, wondering if you, well—”
Sophie rose up on her toes and kissed him. Brazenly. And right as Helen Knowland, the town’s most active gossip, passed them on the sidewalk. Jack shut his eyes. Shut out the world. He didn’t want to miss the taste of Sophie’s lips on his. He wanted to hear the sound of her breathing. He wanted the kiss to go on forever. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. His emotions overwhelmed him. Frightened him a little in their power.
Sophie’s kisses were like raindrops: gentle, endearing. Unforgettable.
Jack didn’t want the reverie to end. Ever.
But she pulled away and he opened his eyes. Her eyes held endless caring. But was it love?
Love?
Did he just think that?
Jack Carter did not ponder the concept of romantic love. At least, he hadn’t before Sophie. She’d made him think about a lot of things that had never been part of his consciousness. His was a world of business and investments. Security. Retirement planning. Graphs. Statistics. Premiums. Now he was aware of people’s needs in a different way. The organizations he’d joined to find clients suddenly represented the children in the community who needed breakfasts where there were none. Playgrounds and parks where not enough existed. Educational programs and sports events that helped disabled children and adults feel productive and valued.
Sophie cared about so many people, yet somewhere in that enormous field of altruism, she held a special place for him. He almost felt he could bask in it. But maybe she was just taking pity on him.
Nah. Not after that kiss.
It was filled with wanting and eagerness.
“Jack,” she whispered against his lips. “Sorry about that. It was a test. I confess to using you as my guinea pig.”
“So, I’m just research?”
She grinned and put her arms around his neck. “No way. I was afraid that what I felt, what happened between us, came from getting caught up in the romance of Katia’s wedding. I had to be sure.”
“And what’s the diagnosis?”
“Positive. With only one cure.”
“What’s that?”
“We need to see each other a lot more.”
“I like this,” he replied quickly, before she could change her mind. “How about tonight? We could run together. Supposed to be a pretty sunset.”
She smiled sweetly and all he could think about was taking her away—maybe in a little boat on the lake—for hours.
“I could make dinner, if you went shopping for us,” she suggested. “I have surgeries all day. I won’t have time to break away.”
“Sure. What can I get?”
“Start with garlic.” She laughed. “I’ll text you a list. Any dietary restrictions?”
“None,” he replied, releasing his hand from her back. “I’ve been known to grill a mean steak.”
“I was thinking about chicken, angel-hair pasta and homemade pesto.”
“Sounds incredible.”
“Oh, believe me. It is.” She looked off toward the courthouse clock tower and the hospital. “I have to run. Literally. Or I’ll be late. Where shall I meet you?”
“My place? Six?”
“Six thirty. I have my running shoes in my car.” She gave him another quick kiss. “See you.” Then she turned and broke into a sprint as she raced toward the light at Main and Maple.
The entire block seemed empty without Sophie, as if oxygen had just left the air.
* * *
JACK FINISHED HIS phone call with Katia, who was checking in for her daily report from Venice. A moment later, Melanie tapped on his door.
“I have to leave early tonight. My son’s baseball game.”
“Oh, right. How’re they doing?”
“Still winning. If this keeps up, his team could be city champs. Next summer we’re hoping to send him to baseball camp, but it’s expensive.”
Jack rubbed his chin. “But he’s got real pitching talent. Let’s talk about it. I want to help him, er, you, in any way I can.”
“Jack.” Melanie’s voice hitched as her hand flew to her heart. “That would mean so much.”
Jack smiled. “It would mean more to me. I have plans tonight, but when is the next game?”
“Saturday morning. City Park.”
“I’ll be there.”
She gave him a thumbs-up. “Great. I’ll tell him. Well, I’m going to head out. Owen is still with his client.”
“’Kay,” Jack replied. Frenchie jumped into his lap, which was her signal that he’d given enough attention to someone else. Now it was her turn.
Jack finished a couple emails then stepped into the reception area, Frenchie right on his heels.
He went over to the windows and glanced out at the clock tower. Nearly closing time. He’d be seeing Sophie very soon.
He reached into his pocket for his cell phone and checked his texts. Nothing. She hadn’t sent him the grocery list she’d promised. He figured she must be stuck in surgery.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted her. Coming out of the Recovery Alliance. She was with a guy. Jeremy?
He went closer to the window for a better view.
Sophie never took her eyes from Jeremy’s face. Even from half a block away, Jack could see she was imploring him with her words and gestures. Whatever point she was trying to make, she was doing it with a great deal of gravity and sincerity.
Jeremy walked away from her, but Sophie went after him and ushered him toward her parked car.
Jeremy pounded the roof of the car. She shouted something to him and he flung the door open and got in.
Sophie got in the driver’s seat, then they drove away.
Clearly, Sophie’s work as Jeremy’s sponsor was difficult and stressful. It required not only her time but a great deal of her attention. He knew it was early in their relationship, but Jack couldn’t help wondering: with all the commitments, people and priorities in Sophie’s life, would she have time or even energy for him?
Jack had started to lose his heart to her. But what about Sophie? She’d said this morning that she wanted to spend more time with him. Was she being truthful? Or just kind, the way she was to Jeremy. As far as Jack could see, Sophie couldn’t help but help others. If she perceived a need, she tried to fill it.
And Jack’s need was to be loved by her.
But could she love him?
Would he see her tonight, after all? He glanced at his phone. No emails. No text. No grocery list. The depth of his disappointment surprised him.
He glanced back down Main Street. There was no sign of Sophie’s car.
What road had her bleeding heart taken her down this time?
Jack shoved his hands in his pockets. Perhaps it was better if he didn’t travel it with her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SOPHIE STOOD ON Jack’s doorstep with three cloth bags filled with groceries, a bottle of Liz Crenshaw’s Cabernet Sauvignon and a stuffed toy for Frenchie. She rang the doorbell and almost immediately heard footsteps before the door was jerked wide open.
Jack was in his running clothes, one sneaker on his right foot, one in his hand. He put his other hand on his hip and glared at her. “You were supposed to text me.”
“I did.” She matched his frown with one of her own. “You didn’t get it?”
“Obviously not.”
Frenchie came to the door and barked at Jack.
“She doesn’t like you arguing with me,” Sophie said with an amused smile.
“I’m not arguing,” he retorted.
Sophie felt terrible. After their last surgery, which had blessedly taken an hour less than planned, she’d found a message from Jeremy on her phone. He was deeply depressed and struggling. She’d left the hospital hurriedly to meet with him and calm him down, while simultaneously boosting his spirits. She’d texted Jack that she would be later than she’d planned and that, to make amends, she would do the shopping.
Sophie’s feelings for Jack compounded her worry about Jeremy. In some ways, she felt as if they’d been brought together by cosmic forces. To an onlooker, nurse and patient meeting in the ER wasn’t all that unusual. But in Sophie’s mind, meeting anyone who made her feel as if her life had been completely disassembled and then put back together in an entirely new configuration was an utter impossibility. Sophie had never planned on falling in love.
Love didn’t happen to her.
Yet here she was.
At the moment, though, based on Jack’s stormy expression, he was anything but a man in love.
Something had happened to change him from the man she’d kissed on Maple Boulevard this morning to this guy who looked ready to take on the next MMA world champion.
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