by Karen Foley
She liked the feel of Glacier Creek, with its abundance of natural beauty, and its slower pace. She even liked how everyone in the small town seemed to know each other, as demonstrated by the many happy conversations she saw struck up on the sidewalks and in the shops. Sure, there were tourists, but even they seemed to be the kind who returned year after year, as they chatted with the shopkeepers and locals about what had changed since they’d last visited.
The alarm on her phone rang and she jerked upright, digging through her pocketbook until she found it, and turned it off. Shading the device with her hand, she peered at the display and realized today was Jamie’s appointment to have his cast removed at the VA hospital in Kalispell. She had no idea if he was even still in the area, but this might be her only opportunity to see him, if he did keep the appointment. If she left right now, she might just catch him.
She made her way quickly back to the parking lot, determined to be at the hospital early. If Jamie did show up, nothing would prevent her from talking to him, and telling him how she felt. She’d made a mistake the other day, but she finally knew what she wanted and where she belonged, and that was with him.
If he would still have her.
With her heart thudding hard in her chest, she drove the van to the Kalispell veterans’ hospital and parked beneath some shady trees, with a clear view of the entrance. The hospital was small, and the only other entrance was for the emergency room. If Jamie kept his appointment, this was the entrance he would use. Blowing out a hard breath, she put the windows down to take advantage of the breeze, and fixed her eyes on the entry.
More than an hour later, she decided he must have left Glacier Creek and canceled his appointment, when he suddenly walked through the front doors of the hospital. His cast was gone, and in its place he wore a knee-high boot made of plastic and foam. He still used crutches, and he had his head down as he made his way through the entry, before turning toward the far side of the parking lot.
Rachel devoured the sight of him, noting every small detail of his appearance. Quickly, she climbed out of the van and was just about to cross the distance between them, when someone called his name.
Jamie stopped, and so did Rachel. She watched as a woman came out of the hospital behind Jamie, hurrying to catch up with him. She was young, probably no older than Jamie. She had a fabulous figure and thick auburn hair pulled back in a messy bun. She wore a pair of black-rimmed glasses, but instead of making her look bookish, they only served to give her a sexy-librarian look.
Rachel frowned. She was too far away to hear what the woman was saying, but clearly they knew each other. Did the woman work at the hospital? Was she a friend?
She waited, half expecting the woman to turn and go back inside, but instead she remained on the sidewalk, talking earnestly to Jamie as he listened and nodded. Then, as Rachel watched, she reached out and cupped Jamie’s face, dipping her head to look into his eyes as she talked. It seemed to Rachel she was pleading with him. Then, almost convulsively, Jamie pulled her into his arms and hugged her hard as he buried his face in the curve of her shoulder, unheeding of the crutches that fell to the ground.
Too shocked to do anything more than stare, Rachel stood rooted beside the van, feeling her heart drop into her stomach. After a moment, the two broke apart and the woman bent to retrieve his crutches. She said something that made Jamie laugh, and hot jealousy consumed Rachel.
She watched as they turned and made their way across the parking lot. The woman kept one hand on Jamie’s back, and even from where she stood, Rachel could see her rubbing between his shoulder blades, until finally they both climbed into a vehicle and were gone.
Rachel sagged against the van, stunned.
Who the hell was the other woman? Was she involved with Jamie? Was Jamie staying with her? Was she from Glacier Creek?
It occurred to Rachel that if she had been thinking straight, she might have been able to follow their car and discover where Jamie was staying. In the next instant, she felt a little sick to her stomach. Whatever she might be, she was not a stalker. She’d lost everything, but she still had her pride. If Jamie had already moved on, then she’d misread him—he wasn’t ready for a serious commitment.
She climbed back into the van and sat there for a long time, staring with unseeing eyes at the parking lot. She couldn’t quite grasp Jamie was still in Glacier Creek, or that she’d seen him with another woman. Just three days ago she’d been ready to give him up, convinced they weren’t right for each other, and yet seeing him with that woman made her realize he was the only man she wanted.
She loved him.
They were all wrong for each other, but nothing felt as right as Jamie’s arms around her.
They belonged together.
Rachel gripped the steering wheel, and then bent her head down onto her hands, willing herself not to cry. She had no one to blame but herself. She was the only one who could make things right with Jamie.
She straightened and dragged in several long breaths, willing herself to be strong. She didn’t know how she was going to fix the colossal mess she’d made of her life, but she was going to try.
First, she needed to make some changes.
*
Nothing had ever felt as good as getting that damned cast removed, Jamie thought, as he gently worked the stiffness out of his leg. Well, except having Rachel in his arms. There wasn’t anything that could compete with that.
She’d tried to call him numerous times over the past week, but he’d stubbornly refused to answer. If he did, he’d cave. He was total mush in her hands and there was no way he wanted her to know that. Right now, his pride was all he had left. He couldn’t risk seeing her until he was sure he could keep his emotions in check.
He missed her.
More than that, he missed them, together. He’d been on the verge of calling her so many times, but then he’d remember the scorn in her voice as she’d compared him to the Deke-wad, and he’d set the phone aside.
Someone knocked on the door, and he called out a greeting, allowing himself to relax back on the sofa. The door opened, and Laurel Cavanaugh came into the living room. Tall and slender, with reddish hair and glasses she continually pushed up with one finger, she was Dylan’s closest neighbor. He thought she might be pretty if only she’d smile more. He had a tough time reconciling the fact she was the bestselling author of a popular murder mystery series. Shy by nature, she preferred to be at her house writing her books, but Cole had asked if she could look in on Jamie, and she’d taken the request very seriously.
She wasn’t at all his type, but Jamie liked her quiet, unassuming manner, and the fact she didn’t ask him questions. When Cole had been unable to give him a ride to the hospital for his doctor appointment, Laurel had volunteered. He was grateful for her calming presence, especially when the doctor told him he would walk with a pronounced limp for the rest of his life, and that his combat days were likely over.
He still had a tough time processing that information. If he couldn’t deploy with his unit, he wasn’t sure he wanted to remain in the military. He wasn’t cut out for a desk job or an administrative detail.
He’d left the hospital feeling as if his entire world had tilted sideways. Laurel had been the one to tell him the only restrictions he had were the ones he imposed on himself, and he could still do whatever he put his mind to. He hadn’t wanted to hear that, but she’d planted the seed and over the past few days, he’d found himself reluctantly thinking about other options: ones that would keep him here in Glacier Creek.
“Hey,” Laurel called in greeting from the kitchen. “I was at the farmer’s market this morning, so I picked up some fresh corn and tomatoes, and a half dozen steaks.” She leaned back to look at him through the doorway. “Dylan is coming home today, right?”
“Yeah, he should be here in an hour or so. Why did you get so many steaks?”
“His parents are going to be dropping him off, so I thought they might like to stay and hav
e supper with him.”
“You didn’t have to do that, but thanks. Let me give you some money.”
She waved his words away. “Absolutely not. That’s what friends do for each other, right? Think of it as my way of welcoming Dylan home again.”
“You’re going to join us, I hope.”
“Of course!” Laurel gave him an owlish look from behind her glasses. “I never pass up an opportunity to give Dylan a hard time.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” Jamie said drily.
She’d been taking care of Boomer—and himself—since he’d come to stay at the timber-frame house. Dylan had hinted there was more to Laurel than most people were aware, but he didn’t elaborate. Jamie was pretty sure Laurel had a crush on Dylan, but didn’t think her feelings were reciprocated. She wasn’t Dylan’s type. Although, to be fair, Dylan didn’t seem to have a type.
“How’s the leg today?” she asked.
Jamie shrugged. “About the same. No worse, so that’s good.”
He’d been working hard to regain his lost muscle strength, and had been practicing walking without his crutches. Even with the rigid boot, his leg was still too weak to completely support his weight, although he could now get by with just one crutch. A physical therapist came to the house twice a week and put him through his paces, and he hoped he would be able to walk without the remaining crutch by the end of the month.
“Did you talk with Dylan today?” Laurel asked.
“I did, this morning.” He laughed softly. “If possible, he’s feeling even more ornery than I am. With two cranky cripples in the house, you might want to do yourself a favor and avoid coming over.”
Through the kitchen doorway, he watched Laurel set a dish of food onto the floor for Boomer, and then she came into the living room and surveyed him, surrounded as he was by Dylan’s workout equipment.
“Neither of you scare me,” she said, smiling. “Trust me when I tell you I’ve handled worse. And you’re not going to heal faster by overtaxing your leg. Just so you know.”
Jamie grunted. He didn’t want to admit Laurel was right. He just wanted to be back on his feet. He’d be better equipped to face Rachel if he wasn’t on crutches or stuck in a wheelchair. And he would face her—there had never been any doubt in his mind about that. He just needed to be able to catch her if she decided to run.
“What time did Dylan say he’d be here?” Laurel asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“About an hour.”
“Okay, that sounds perfect. I’m going to head home now, but I’ll be back when he gets here, okay? The steaks and beer are in the fridge, and I put the corn into some water to soak; I thought they’d be good roasted on the grill.”
Jamie raised a hand in farewell as she let herself out, and then rose to his feet and made his way outside to the deck. He leaned on the railing and surveyed the town of Glacier Creek, below, a hard knot of misery in his chest.
What was Rachel doing right now? Did she think of him? Did she miss him? Dylan had promised not to tell her where he was, but Jamie wondered how long it would be before she figured it out. He was actually surprised—and more than a little disappointed—she hadn’t already discovered he was staying at Dylan’s house. He’d have thought she’d be over long before now to make sure the house was ready for Dylan when he returned from Bozeman. The sun beat warm on his shoulders, reminding him there was cold beer in the fridge.
Turning, he made his way back into the house, and then stopped when he heard a key in the front lock. He paused, expecting Dylan or his parents to walk through the door.
The last person he expected to see was Rachel, and judging by the shocked look on her face when she saw him standing there, she hadn’t expected to see him, either.
Chapter Seventeen
“What are you doing here?”
They both said the words at the same time, and Rachel flushed. Jamie thought she looked pale, and there were dark smudges beneath her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept well. Guilt gnawed at him, even as he devoured her with his eyes.
“I, um, promised to bring some groceries over,” she explained.
For the first time, Jamie noticed she carried two grocery totes that bulged with food.
“Here, I’ll take those,” he said, and his voice sounded gruff, even to his own ears. He stepped forward and took both totes in one hand, and then turned to limp his way into the kitchen.
After a moment, he heard Rachel follow him.
“Believe me, I didn’t plan this. I had no idea you would be here,” she finally said, as he set the bags onto the island.
“Or you wouldn’t have come?” Jamie sounded bitter, but he couldn’t help himself. When he angled his head to look at her, his chest constricted. Rachel stood uncertainly just inside the kitchen, turning her car keys over and over in her hands and not looking at him.
“I’m not the one avoiding contact,” she said quietly, and raised her gaze to his. “You haven’t returned any of my calls.”
“No.”
A sudden knock on the door startled them both, and then the front door opened and Laurel poked her head inside. “Hello! It’s just me! I saw a van pull up.”
“We’re in the kitchen,” Jamie called.
Laurel came in, a wide smile on her face, and then came to an abrupt stop when she saw Rachel.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, putting a hand to her throat. “I thought it might be Dylan. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Laurel, I’d like you to meet Dylan’s sister, Rachel.” Jamie nodded in her direction. “Rachel, this is Laurel Cavanaugh.”
Laurel’s face cleared, and she stepped forward with a wide smile. “Oh, what a pleasure it is to finally meet you! I’ve heard so much about you from Dylan!”
To Jamie’s astonishment, Rachel didn’t seem inclined to return Laurel’s friendly smile. She shook the other woman’s hand, but the overture seemed grudging, at best.
“So Jamie hasn’t mentioned me?” Rachel asked, tipping her chin up and sliding a quick look at Jamie.
Laurel gave a small laugh, and looked confused. “No. Why, should he have?”
“Rachel—” Jamie tried to interject, but Rachel held her hand up, forestalling whatever words he might have said.
“No, there’s no reason why he should have mentioned me,” she replied, but the smile she gave Laurel didn’t reach her eyes. “And now that I’ve met you, I understand why.”
“I, uh, think there’s been some misunderstanding,” Laurel said, casting a worried look toward Jamie. “Maybe I should go.”
“I’ll call you later,” Jamie said.
He didn’t know what had gotten into Rachel, but he didn’t want her taking it out on Laurel, who had done nothing to deserve it. He waited until Laurel had closed the front door behind her, and then spread his hands out.
“What are you doing?”
To his astonishment, Rachel put a hand to her eyes and half turned away.
“I don’t know,” she muttered. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here, and it just sort of threw me. I mean, I know you’re with her now, but I didn’t expect to actually see you with her, okay? I had no idea she would be here.”
Jamie frowned. “Who? Laurel?”
“Yes, Laurel!” Rachel’s voice broke. “I tried to call you, Jamie. It took me about an hour to figure out I’d made a mistake in letting you leave that day.” She looked at him, stricken. “A huge mistake! I went over to your house, but you’d already left.”
Jamie took a step toward her. “I couldn’t stay, Rachel. You know that. Seeing you every day, being that close and not being able to be with you—I had to leave.”
“And Laurel was right there to console you,” Rachel said bitterly.
Jamie stared at her, dumbfounded. “What?”
Rachel turned to him, her face contorted in pain. “I saw you! I saw you together, Jamie, so don’t try to deny it!”
Now Jamie did step forward, unmindful of his s
tiff leg, and took her by the shoulders. “I do deny it! What did you see, Rachel?”
She struggled not to cry and it was as if someone had ripped his beating heart from his chest. He dragged her into his arms, ignoring her stiff resistance, intent only on trying to soothe her.
“I saw you outside the hospital,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. “You were hugging her, and it looked like more than just a neighborly hug, and I almost don’t blame you because she’s beautiful and young—”
Jamie tightened his hold on her. “Oh, Rachel…”
*
Jamie’s chest heaved up and down, and for just an instant, Rachel thought he might actually be crying, but when she lifted her face from his shoulder, she realized she was mistaken.
He was laughing.
Rachel leaned back in his arms and stared at him, even as a part of her brain registered he wasn’t releasing her, and in fact seemed to be holding her even closer.
And it felt wonderful.
“What’s so funny?” she demanded, and swiped her fingertips across her eyes.
“Laurel is nothing more than a friend,” he said. His eyes traveled over her face like a caress. “That day at the hospital, the doctor gave me news I wasn’t ready to hear, and she was just trying to make me feel better.”
Hope flared inside of Rachel. Friends, not lovers!
“So you’re not together?”
“Not even close. My heart already belongs to someone else.”
“Oh, Jamie…” She started to melt against him, and then the full meaning of his words sank in. “What news did the doctor give you?”
“My leg will never be as strong as it was, and I’ll always walk with a limp.”
Rachel understood what it was he wasn’t saying. “What does that mean for you? For your military career?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t been on active duty in almost six months, and I’m still facing months of rehab. If I can’t return within a year, I’ll be medically discharged.”
Rachel tentatively raised a hand and laid it against his lean cheek. “If that means you won’t deploy again, and you won’t have bombs dropped on you while you’re sleeping, then I can’t be sorry.”