My Way Back to You (Harlequin Large Print Super Romance)

by Pamela Hearon

  “Don’t you go crying on me, now.” Eli’s voice was calm. “Just get the car keys, okay?”

  Rosemary stumbled up the steps and into the house, grabbing her purse and feeling around inside it to make certain she had her keys and her phone. By the time she got back outside, Eli was sitting in the passenger side of the truck—another clue this was serious. Eli always insisted on driving.

  Because the pain was sporadic rather than constant, they bypassed the county hospital and drove on to Paducah, the closest city. It had two excellent hospitals, but they chose Baptist Health where Maggie had been born and Rosemary had had her gall bladder removed several years ago.

  They were moved through the ER quickly once Eli explained his symptoms, and before long he was lying on a bed, wired up to an electrocardiogram machine.

  Rosemary had regained her composure...for the most part. She just tried to convince herself Eli was right about the pulled muscle. Mabel’s casket had been solid oak. Heavy. Eli had no business being a pallbearer at his age. The younger men should take over that job.

  “You haven’t had a heart attack,” the doctor said, at last. “Your EKG looks fine.” If he’d been standing on the same side of the bed as she, Rosemary would’ve hugged him. “But—”

  Uh-oh. Buts are always bad.

  “I can’t rule out that you might have problems. I’m going to admit you, and we’ll keep an eye on you tonight. Tomorrow morning, we’ll do a stress test and see if you have any blockages.”

  “How ’bout I go home, sleep in my own bed and come back in the morning for that stress test?”

  “It won’t hurt you to sleep somewhere besides your bed this one night,” Rosemary chided, but she couldn’t stir much anger into her voice. They seldom went anywhere overnight. Had never even been on a vacation. Eli’s steadfast rule was that he slept in his own bed.

  The doctor frowned. “I’d prefer you allow me to admit you. We can keep an eye on you and make sure you stay comfortable.”

  Eli’s lips pressed together. “I’d prefer to sleep in my own bed. No way I’ll be comfortable in this place.” He pointed to Rosemary. “She’ll keep an eye on me.”

  “I won’t be able to sleep a wink,” Rosemary protested.

  “See there?” Eli said to the doctor.

  “You’re refusing admission, then?”

  Eli nodded. “For tonight I am. No use sleeping somewhere other than home until I absolutely have to.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Eli.” Rosemary let out the frustration that had built over the past couple of hours. “We go home, you might not wake up at all.”

  He shrugged like it was nothing, and the firm set of his jaw told her there was no point in arguing. “That’s a chance I’ll take.”

  The doctor moved to the computer on the stand beside the bed and brushed a key to bring it to life. “Well, in that case, let’s see about making you an appointment for tomorrow morning. How does ten o’clock sound?”

  Rosemary glanced at her watch—8:38 p.m. The next thirteen hours and twenty-two minutes might be the longest of her life.

  * * *

  “YOU THINK IT’S really this peaceful here, or does it just seem that way after three days in Chicago?”

  Maggie stopped and listened for the owl again. There it was. She hadn’t caught sight of it yet, but it sounded closer.

  “I think it’s really this peaceful.” Jeff stopped, too, and pointed in the direction of the answering hoot. “But being in the city makes you long for the quiet. Sometimes, I just take off and drive to get away from the noise. Even away from the ocean. Just absolute quiet.”

  Another new factoid to add to her growing list of items she was learning about her ex—such as his passion for soccer and his love of cooking. During the two-hour drive, then the eighteen holes of golf and the steak dinner on the deck of the lovely lakeside restaurant, she’d come to realize her companion had changed in many ways from the boy she’d been married to.

  In his younger days, Jeff had always been the party animal, frat boy, in constant search of action. And now he enjoyed quiet. She would’ve never guessed.

  He took a sip of the wine they’d brought with them on their sunset stroll around the south end of the lake. “This place reminds me of our camping trips on Kentucky Lake.”

  Maggie scratched her nose with a grin and held up her glass. “We’d need to replace these wineglasses with mason jars of Toad’s ’shine.”

  Jeff barked a laugh at the mention of his fraternity brother’s nickname. “Toad! Haven’t thought of him and his homemade moonshine in years. I wonder what he’s doing now?”

  “Probably running a distillery someplace, if he followed his passion.” They laughed in agreement. “You know,” she confided, “I’ve always figured it was during one of those camping trips that I got pregnant.”

  Jeff paused to think about that for a minute and then held up his glass toward her. “Then here’s to camping on Kentucky Lake.”

  Maggie clinked her glass to his. “And here’s to being much more careful this time around.”

  They walked in silence as the top of the sun plunged below the surface of the lake, making the blue water deepen to shades of purple. They came around the bend, and the lovely house Jeff had rented—much too modern and chic to be considered a cabin—came into view.

  “So you really don’t have any regrets?” she asked quietly, and the sad expression he turned her way told her he understood the unspoken completion of that question—about us.

  He took her hand, interlacing their fingers and continued walking. “I have lots of regrets, Mags.” He took a sip of wine, and she wondered if he needed it to give him the courage to be honest. “Marrying you,” he continued. “Having Russ. Those aren’t part of them. I regret not staying and giving our marriage more time.” Her heart did a backflip at his words. “We’ve obviously become different people from who we were back then. Maybe it could’ve worked out differently if we’d held on.”

  “But we wouldn’t have become the people we are now if we hadn’t gone our separate ways. And I like how I turned out.” She took a sip and added, “And I like how you turned out, too.” She nudged a grin from him with her elbow.

  They walked a little way in comfortable silence before she spoke again. “You know, it surprises me to hear you say you don’t regret our marriage. I always assumed you felt nothing but relief to get away from me.”

  He shook his head. “I was relieved to get away from the pressure. I always felt ganged up on, like it was three against one.”

  “It was,” she admitted. “To this day, my parents place the blame solely on you.”

  Jeff shrugged off the comment. “My biggest regret will always be the time I lost with my son.”

  Her hand tightened instinctively at the sorrow in his voice. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to see him more often. We did the best we could.”

  He nodded, and they fell into silence again.

  “I’m glad you came with me, Mags.”

  She smiled. “Me, too.” It surprised her that the words came so easily. Having this peaceful time to clear the air with Jeff was something she’d needed badly, without even realizing it. She’d always been so afraid that being around him again would make her fall back in love with him. But it didn’t feel that way now. She did love him on some level. And always would. Russ gave her a love connection to this man walking beside her. What she was feeling was born of that connection. It was normal and certainly nothing to fear—no matter how hard her heart beat when he touched her.

  “What do you have planned for tomorrow?” She steered the conversation away from the serious. They’d pretty much said it all these past few days, and there was no reason to keep rehashing the same conversation.

  He gave her a suggestive grin.

  “Besid
es that.”

  “So I have to think about something else, huh?” They reached the beach area of the rental and each of them claimed one of the Adirondack chairs at the edge of the water where the waves would lap their feet. “How about golf in the morning? Maybe rent a boat and spend the afternoon on the lake?”

  “That sounds like the perfect day.” She tried to take a sip, but her glass was empty. “I’ll get the bottle.” She stood, and as she passed between the chairs, Jeff took her hand and kissed it.

  There was no reason to get worked up by all this attention. He’d always been demonstrative with his affection. It was one of the things that had drawn her to him. And it was one of the ways she saw his influence in Russ’s mannerisms.

  She let her thoughts drift to her son and wonder how his day had been. What would he think if he found out his parents were at Lake Geneva together?

  She laughed softly. He’d probably be scarred for life, like every other kid who imagines his parents sleeping together. Her own parents came to mind, and she pushed the idea away with a silent ew!

  Retrieving the half-empty bottle, she made her way back down to the beach, but Jeff had vacated his chair. She looked around. Where was he?

  “Psst.”

  The stage whisper drew her attention to the lake. There she could make out Jeff’s head, bobbing in the dark water.

  “C’mon in. Water’s perfect.”

  She pointed toward the house. “I don’t have my swimsuit on.”

  “Neither do I.” His deep laugh came ashore with the next wave.

  Sure enough, his clothes were stacked in a neat pile on the seat of his chair.

  Not needing a second invitation, she began to rid herself of her clothes very slowly, taking plenty of time to fold each piece precisely and lean over to place it carefully on the chair.

  “You were one of those guys who tortured people in another life, weren’t you?” His tone was a blend of pleasure and agony.

  Maggie shrugged out of her bra, then stepped out of her panties and stretched her arms skyward. “This feels so good after playing golf.”

  “Are you coming in, or am I getting out?” he demanded.

  “Isn’t there some rule about swimming after drinking?” She eased into the water, which was indeed the perfect temperature.

  Jeff met her where the water was waist deep. Taking her hand, he led her a little farther out and then stopped to take her in his arms.

  “Not to worry,” he said. “I have no intentions of swimming tonight.”

  * * *

  JEFF LAY ON his side watching Mags sleep. She looked beautiful and serene, the worry lines that too often creased the area between her brows gone for now. That she’d become a worrier was obvious...and a surprise. When they’d been married, she didn’t seem to worry about anything except Russ. Left worrying about everything else to him. A spoiled only child, she never gave a thought about tomorrow.

  She’d changed...and that change was making him crazy.

  He quietly got out of bed and slipped into the shorts he’d left lying in the chair. Checking one last time to make sure she was still asleep, he padded silently across the room and eased through the sliding glass door onto the deck.

  The light breeze was balmy and inviting, and a gazillion stars twinkled overhead. It seemed a shame to view them like this when they could be seen in stereo by the water. He moseyed down to the beach, making himself comfortable again in the Adirondack, letting his senses fill with his surroundings. The scent of the sweet night air found its way to his tongue. Stars reflected in the water, accompanied by a summer chorus of crickets and bullfrogs. The water warmed his toes and ankles.

  Ahh. Life was good.

  So why wasn’t he happy?

  He thought about Mags, sleeping peacefully. They’d had a great time together. He’d forgotten how much fun she could be.

  But...how could he have forgotten that? And why did remembering it cause an ache so deep it was almost unbearable?

  He rested his head against the chair, closing his eyes, trying to remember what he and Mags had really been like. Over the years, his recollections had dulled or heightened, depending on whether the memory was good or bad.

  What had happened to the two of them? Why hadn’t they made it? The initial physical attraction had been there. The lovemaking had been outstanding—and still was. Sure, they’d been young, but they’d truly cared for each other. Even that was still evident. A lot of divorced couples could never have done what they did this week—or ended up like this. They were different from the rest. Had always been different and always would be.

  So what had made them think giving up like everybody else was the best solution?

  Mags asked if he had any regrets. How could he tell her losing her was the one thing he could never forgive himself for? What good would it do to admit that?

  He’d come close to saying it. But they were still a world apart. He had the car dealership that supported him, his parents and his sister. Mags had the salon she’d built from nothing—a business that couldn’t be picked up and moved, any more than his could. What had she said during the car ride up? After Russ, and Mom and Dad, the salon’s the most important thing in my life. It’s my other child. I love nurturing it and watching it grow.

  Too many miles and too many years separated him and Mags.

  But if there was some way...

  “Stop it.” He spoke the words aloud, opening his eyes to try to stifle the images forming in his head. They’d moved the only way into a college dorm this week. They had no reason besides Russ to give things another try. Not even the lingering shades of love would be enough to dispel the fear and doubt.

  And neither of them was willing to enter into another possible failure.

  “So...” He pushed himself to his feet and headed back to the house. He would enjoy the time they’d been given. He would facilitate fun memories. He would be her sexual fantasies come to life...and let her be his.

  And Sunday, when they parted ways, he would leave a part of his heart behind—the part that lay deep in the pit of his stomach right then. The part that made him ache from its burden.

  It was much too heavy to continue carrying around for the rest of his life.

  He’d have to find some way to let it go.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE TECHNICIAN SHOWED Rosemary and Eli to a small, darkened room with several chairs gathered around a computer monitor.

  “Dr. Reeves will be right in,” the young man told them, and then disappeared back into the quiet hallway.

  They each took a seat, and the chill in the room deepened when she saw the look in Eli’s eyes. He took her hand. “It’s not good, Rosie.”

  Her insides started to crumble, but she hoisted herself up on some fake bravado. “Nonsense. You can’t know that yet, so don’t go borrowing trouble.” She patted his hand with her free one.

  “I could see it on his face. He didn’t like what he saw. Wasn’t good.”

  She started to protest again, but the young cardiologist they’d met earlier that morning hustled in. “Here we are.” He laid a hand on Rosemary’s shoulder as he stepped by her to his seat. Something about the touch held a warning, and her spine stiffened in reaction.

  “I know y’all are anxious, and I don’t want to keep you in the dark.” A couple of keystrokes brought the screen to life, shedding some light into the room but not reaching Rosemary’s fear. “The stress test shows you have three blockages we need to take care of, Mr. Russell. The good news is they’re repairable. The bad news is it can’t be done with stents.”

  His words caused a blockage within Rosemary, as well. Her mind stalled as the image on the screen swirled before her eyes. Her body took the opposite reaction, though, as only Eli’s grip kept her tethered to the seat when her every
impulse was to flee.

  “...cardiothoracic surgeon...bypass surgery...” Fragments floated through her head, some snagging on the jagged edges of her immediate fear, others corralled into a dark place where she could take them out later and examine them one at a time. “...eight to ten hours...surgeon preference?”

  Into whose hands did they want to place Eli’s life? What kind of question was that? “The best,” she answered. “Whoever has the most experience and the best track record of success is who we want.”

  “Well, of course.” The cardiologist’s grin irritated her. Did he think she’d made a joke? Eli’s thumb brushed hers softly, intercepting her angry retort. “All of the surgeons on staff are excellent,” the doctor continued, unaware how close he’d come to experiencing her wrath unleashed. “We’ll see who’s available.”

  After a few more questions, he led them from the dark room to the first of many stops. Scheduling. Dr. Heflin’s office—the cardiothoracic surgeon Eli chose. Cardiac pre-op questions and counseling. The lab for blood work. The pharmacy, to fill the prescription of nitroglycerin Eli was given for chest pains he might incur over the weekend.

  By the time Rosemary fastened her seat belt for the ride home, her head was about to explode from the amount of information and anxiety she had crammed inside. It pushed at her temples and behind her eyes, making her all too aware of the beating of her heart...and Eli’s, as well.

  “Monday.” She cradled her head against the back of the truck seat, determined not to dissolve into the heaping, quivering mass she was on the inside.

  “It is what it is, Rosie.” She heard the resolve in Eli’s voice, felt it in the touch of the hand he laid on top of hers. “Better to do it, and get it over with.”

  She knew he was right. But three days from now her husband’s heart would be stopped, his life placed in the hands of someone she’d just met and a machine with no capability of knowing the importance of the man it would be connected to. The thought chilled her to the bone.