“No! No,” she cried. She couldn’t leave Zane alone. Yet she couldn’t treat him either. There were no solutions, no answers – but one. She had to drive on to Berkeley and leave Zane behind.
After swiping at the tear tracks down her face, Margo put the Jeep in gear, started the engine, and turned onto the highway heading south. It was time for Zane to heal. She had to let him go.
Chapter 15
Margo stood at her office window and watched the raindrops drizzle down the panes of glass. She couldn’t see San Francisco or the Bay through the mist. It didn’t matter. She knew what was out there. It seemed that lately she’d spent many long moments standing in this spot staring into the distance – thinking of Zane.
She hadn’t heard from him since that last weekend at his place. She hadn’t heard from Vinnie either, so she supposed Zane had kept his promise and convinced his brother to forget legal action. That was a minor relief.
The major worries still plagued her. Never in her life had she turned her back on a case. Guilt was constantly at battle with her common sense. Vinnie’s threats reinforced her reason to drop out, but her heart wasn’t satisfied. She worried too much about what was happening to Zane.
She didn’t know how many times she was tempted to call Zanelli, Incorporated, and ask. The thought had even crossed her mind to go to lunch at Fisherman’s Wharf where she could possibly encounter Gloria Zanelli. But Margo had too much control for those tactics. It would be best to forget him altogether.
The door opened, sending a slight breeze to ruffle the papers on her desk. Margo turned to see Bettina eyeing her, a worried frown creasing her brow.
“Are you brooding again?” Bettina whisked into the room, her maternal role replacing the professional one.
“Just resting a few moments before I go see Father Michael.”
Bettina paused beside Margo, her perfume drifting along with her. Its scent brought back childhood memories of burying her face against her mother’s warmth. She was too mature for the comfort now…or was she?
“Are you still having the nightmares?”
Even though Bettina’s words were softly spoken, the impact of the question hit hard. Margo moved from the window and began to pace.
“They’re going away,” she lied. “My sessions with Father Michael are helping.”
She had gone to her church for counseling, hoping that the priest, a higher authority than her peers, would help. Whenever she had sessions, she did feel better, but she still hadn’t resolved the bitter truth that she had been forced to give up on the treatment of a patient because of personal interest.
In her nightmares, Zane’s face interchanged with her father’s. Two failures were too much to handle. She had to forgive herself for not being able to help the two men, and forgive them for not letting her.
Bettina stepped in front of Margo and forced her to stop her pacing. “Let it go, child. You’ve got to do that before you can look at life head-on.”
“I’m trying, maman.”
“I know.” Bettina smiled. “Are we still on for the opera tonight?”
“You bet. There’s nothing to keep me from a performance of Madame Butterfly.”
Zane’s rich baritone carrying across a daisy-covered meadow came to mind. Margo sighed. Would she ever forget?
Bettina helped Margo on with her raincoat. Margo positioned the red cloche on her head as they walked out the door.
“Drive carefully. The streets are slick with all this rain.”
“Don’t worry.” Margo shut the door behind her. “I’ll pick you up at six tonight.”
As she headed past her receptionist and into the elevator she heard the phone ring.
“Dr. Margo Devaull has just left her office. Can I take a message…?”
The elevator door slid shut, blocking out the receptionist’s voice. Margo forced back the twinge of guilt. Normally she would have taken the call, but not today. She wanted to get out of here – and drive up the forested coast to Zane.
***
Zane chipped away at the statue. Light filtered from the skylight, but it was waning. He’d have to give up for tonight or at least stop until he’d turned on the generator. But working on the huge chunk of wood helped him forget Margo Devaull. He thought about the phone call he’d made earlier in the day. It had taken him the whole morning to convince himself it wouldn’t be a mistake to call. When he finally had, she’d just left the office.
He wanted to see her – not as a doctor but as a friend. That wasn’t true, he chided himself; he wanted to see her as more than a friend.
He rubbed his palms along his thighs, hoping his jeans would absorb the sweat. He had no right getting involved with her, but he knew it was too late for that. She’d come into his retreat and dug at his walls until he’d been forced to take notice. Now he couldn’t get her out of his mind.
So why don’t you accept what she has to offer? The question tormented him. He looked at the statue and the answer was obvious. He picked up his tools and continued working.
He loved her. He’d vowed never to love anyone again, and he’d been right to make that vow. The concern and caring he’d seen in her eyes tore at his heart. He could imagine what would be there if she knew the truth about him. Angrily, he swung the mallet, sending a chip flying across the room.
He’d worked on this project more these last months than he’d done the past year, and he knew why. He needed to keep reminding himself of the reason he was no good for her.
He was nearing completion. The base needed slight refining and then there would be no more to carve on the statue – except the eyes. He hadn’t been able to touch the eyes. The exact expression he should design never formulated in his head. He supposed they should reflect accusing hatred, but he couldn’t do it. Not yet; maybe never.
***
Another week slipped by and Zane was in town again. He unlocked the Bronco Vinnie had given back to him and slid into the seat. The vinyl was cold and sent chills through his heavy jeans. He adjusted the collar of his blue Pendleton and stared at the rain splashing down on the streets of Eureka.
After leaning back on the headrest, he closed his eyes to the sight. He felt drained; the sessions at the Vietnam Outreach Center were emotionally charged. It still amazed him how some of the other vets could open up and talk about their nightmares. He hadn’t been able to do that yet, nor did he think he ever would.
The session continued to interest him. Margo’s words of hope kept ringing in his ears. He wanted to at least get to the point where he could care about someone again – someone like Margo Devaull.
He wanted to see her now. Would he get through to her today? After taking a deep breath he vowed to call her this morning. Last week he’d waited too long.
The bowling alley wasn’t noisy at this early hour. After placing the stack of coins on the counter, he stared at the shiny metal. As a Zanelli, he had enough plastic to charge his way across the country, yet here he stood with a pocketful of coins, nervous about calling for a date.
Zane dialed. His heart pounded when he heard her voice. He had to swallow the lump gathering in his throat.
“Hello? Is someone there?” Irritation crowded into the sweet sound of her voice.
“It’s Zane.”
The line went quiet.
“Where are you calling from?” she finally asked.
Zane took a deep breath and forced his fingers to relax. “I’m in Eureka. I’ve been going to therapy sessions at the Vietnam Outreach Center.”
Her voice lowered and he could hear the emotion in it. “I’m so glad. Is it helping?”
“Yes,” he lied. He’d never tell anyone what really had happened in Nam. But if going to the sessions meant he had a chance to see Margo again, he’d go. No one could make him talk if he didn’t want to.
After another deep breath, he decided to get to the point of his call. “I want to see you.”
Her breathing carried across the wires and he imagined
how her mouth looked next to the phone. She didn’t answer. He tried again.
“Can you come to Fort Bragg this weekend?”
Her voice faltered slightly, but she finally responded. “I don’t think it’s a good idea just yet.”
He clamped down the urge to argue and tried reason. “I’d like to talk to you. Not as a patient,” he hurriedly tacked on. “I can get you a room at the inn. A separate room. We could spend the day together.”
The pause stretched into minutes. She hadn’t said no.
“Can we have a picnic on the beach?” she asked.
“You can count on it.”
The weather was supposed to clear, but even if it didn’t Zane wasn’t going to worry about it. All he wanted was to see Margo. Hearing her voice was not enough; it made him hungry for more.
“I’ll be there,” she promised. “But I’ll pay for my own room.”
Zane had no problem with that. He agreed, and after hanging up the phone, sagged with relief against the wall. He was going to see her.
***
Margo couldn’t stop staring at Zane as he drove the Bronco past the lake and down the forested lane of MacKerricher State Park. He looked good, better than she remembered. The rugged and handsome features were the same, yet he appeared more relaxed. Too bad she couldn’t say the same for herself. Sleepless nights and worrying about Zane had taken its toll.
For today, though, she felt happy and young. It had been weeks since she’d been on a date or even taken time off to play. To be north again and to see Zane had boosted her spirits.
After downshifting the vehicle through the underpass and to the lower-level beach, Zane turned to catch her staring. His smile reflected in his eyes, along with admiration and anticipation. His mood matched hers and probably for the same reason.
“It’s good to see you again,” she told him. “You look like your ventures to Eureka have been beneficial.”
He shrugged and returned his attention to his driving. He eventually found a parking place and pulled into it.
For several minutes they were content to sit and admire the view. Margo still couldn’t accept the fact that she was here. She shouldn’t have come, but somehow she couldn’t make herself believe that any harm would result from seeing Zane. It felt too good, too right to be in his company.
She slid her glance sideways to take another look at him. He appeared more at peace. Questions about his therapy sessions were on the tip of her tongue, but she managed to refrain from asking them. A patient-doctor relationship with Zane was not what either one of them wanted. She desired another level altogether.
He swiveled to face her, placing his knee on the seat between them. She could feel his gaze going over every detail of her features. She sat still and waited.
His voice was low when he spoke. “This is what I really need – to see you.”
“I’m only here to spend the day with you.”
He lifted his hand off the steering wheel and traced his finger along her forearm where it rested in her lap. “I know. And that’s the kind of day I want. I won’t hassle you, Margo.”
“I didn’t think you would.” And would she really be satisfied with that? she asked herself. Probably not, but she could pretend.
“I thought this would be a good place.” He gestured toward the beach. “There are always plenty of people around.”
His thoughtfulness touched her, but it also made her smile. “You sure you can handle that?” she teased. “I don’t want you to go into shock now.”
“This kind of crowd I can take. Everybody’s here to have fun. No pressures. No mad rush.”
“Sounds like heaven. I could use a day like that.”
Concern showed when he frowned. “You’ve been working too hard.”
She nodded, thinking of the hours she’d buried her nose in research, trying to forget Zane.
As he opened the door of the Bronco he told her about his plans. “I brought hot dogs to roast and a Frisbee. We can hike the beach or lay in the sun or…”
Margo stepped out her door and met his glance across the top of the vehicle. “All of it sounds good to me.”
Actually, it didn’t matter what they did. She was discovering what mattered was simply being with Zane.
It didn’t take long to unpack their gear. Margo carried the blanket and a bag of picnic supplies. Zane managed the ice chest with the Frisbee balanced on top. They found the perfect spot, far enough away from others to give them a sense of privacy. Two huge driftwood logs made a protective barrier from the wind, and Zane spread the blanket between them.
“What a day.” Margo stashed the bag next to the ice chest and straightened to admire the scenery. “We’re lucky to have such good weather.”
“It rained hard last week. There should be some driftwood to collect.”
“Maybe a Japanese fishing float?”
“I doubt there’d still be one of those around. There’re too many people.”
Zane finished setting up their site and came to stand beside her. His presence pleased her as she inhaled his masculine scent mingled with the salty breezes.
“What would you like to do first?” he asked. “We can sit here and talk, have something to eat, or we can walk along the beach.”
“I’m ready to explore.” A walk would burn off some of the pent-up energy she was generating. “Maybe there’ll be a float that others have missed.”
Optimism and excitement sounded in her voice, and Zane must have responded to it. He gave her that grin she loved and captured her hand in his.
“Come on then. Let’s get started. There’s plenty of beach to work up an appetite.”
Margo tried to focus on the crisp breeze and a sea gull’s cry instead of the warmth in Zane’s hand. To think they had a whole day of this and it was still early. Zane had arrived at the inn around nine and they’d left shortly after. She had to chuckle when she thought of Nan’s curiosity.
It probably would have been a better idea to have selected an inn where she wasn’t known. But then again, she had nothing to hide. Zane had figured it would be best to keep their relationship open and public. That way there would be no grounds for talk or a setup for temptation.
The breeze tossed her hair about and Margo was glad she’d worn the cotton jersey sweat suit. The bright yellow matched her mood and would be comfortable as well.
Zane’s red Pendleton would keep him warm, but he’d rolled up his jeans and taken off his shoes and socks. Margo took her sneakers off also and carried them hooked on her fingers. The sand was cold but felt good sifting between her toes.
As they neared the surf, Margo noticed objects that kept disappearing into the water only to come up again farther along the coast. At first she thought they were birds, but the shapes were too round. Another one popped up just past the breakers. Brown eyes peered at her.
She tugged on Zane’s hand and pulled him to a stop. “What’s out there? Is that a seal?”
Another head popped up beside the first. Whiskers twitched on pointed noses as the two animals stared at Margo and Zane.
“They’re actually California sea lions,” Zane explained. “They feed on fish in the surf.”
A large wave loomed behind the two animals. Instead of diving into it they started swimming toward shore.
“Look. They’re riding the wave,” she exclaimed, delighted with the ease and skill the animals exhibited while maneuvering the surf.
“They’re curious,” Zane told her. “Let’s keep walking and watch. They’ll follow us all the way down the beach.”
Sure enough, as Margo and Zane walked along, the two sea lions kept pace, bobbing in and out of the water. Margo laughed at their antics, especially when they surfed the waves. Their sleek brown bodies moved easily in the water. Their barks mingled with the noise of crashing waves and the cries of sea gulls.
There was other wildlife to observe as they continued hand in hand. Zane stopped Margo twice to point out a pelican as it dove i
nto the water to catch its dinner. When it disappeared underwater its beak was narrow and pointed, but when the bird flew back up its beak would bulge with its catch. Watching it try to swallow the fish was another show altogether.
Not only were there animals to see, but the people on the beach were entertaining as well. One man came jogging along the wet, hard-packed sand, tossing his Frisbee in the air, performing several tricks as he went. He’d kick it off his elbow, his foot, and his knee, then spin around while the Frisbee was in the air and somersault.
“What a show-off,” Zane commented.
“You’re just jealous because I’m paying more attention to what’s going on than to you.”
“I’d never admit to that, but I do know how to remedy the situation.”
“Do you now?” She glanced sideways at him in time to catch the mischievous glint in his eye.
Suddenly she was lifted against his chest. Automatically she wrapped her arms around his neck, too interested in the feel of him to worry about the fact that he was carrying her into the surf.
“Now do I have your attention?” he asked.
She was inches from his smooth-shaven jaw. He skin smelled like sunshine and fresh air, and she couldn’t resist pressing her cheek into the warmth of his neck. His grip tightened around her.
“That’s not fair,” he murmured into her hair. “You’re supposed to scream and protest and make it easy to toss you in the water. But when you do that you know I’m going to hang on to you.”
“Do what?” She nuzzled his neck. “This?” She placed tiny kisses on his cheek. “Or this?” She gently nipped at his jaw.
Abruptly Zane swiveled around and walked out of the ankle-deep surf. When he reached dry sand he let go of her legs and let them slide down his body until she touched ground. He kept his other arm around her waist and pulled her into an embrace.
“Let’s do this right,” he whispered against her mouth.
With her arms still around his neck, Margo kissed him. It wasn’t a lengthy kiss or an especially passionate one because they were both conscious of where they were, but that didn’t lessen the impact. When Zane let her go, she stood very still, absorbing the longing his kiss had wrought. He wasn’t any steadier than she.
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