Heather

by Chris Keniston

  With another bob of his head Jake agreed and wished Tom would take the short cut to make his point. Jake had plans today with Dr. Preston that involved more than painting the bathroom wall.

  “And I know this place is fully staffed, but don’t you think you should maybe put in more than a token appearance?”

  The question caught Jake completely off guard. He couldn’t remember a single time when Tom had challenged him so solemnly. Yeah, once in a while Tom teased him, or joked with him, but there wasn’t any hint of a gag line at the end of that question. Jake’s knee-jerk reaction was to get in the guy’s face about questioning how he ran his business, but the side of him who had served six years in a hell hole with this guy took a deep breath and a moment to consider before asking, “What aren’t you saying?”

  The hand that had been gripping his neck as though preventing his head from falling off, now ran roughly through his hair before his back straightened and he looked Jake dead in the eyes. “The way you’ve run out of here every day as though someone’s life depended on it, as though your life depended on it, makes me think you are taking this do-gooder thing a bit too far. I know none of us see things the way we used to.” He paused for a pensive breath. “There are pieces of us that we left over there, had to leave over there. And there are small parts of us that wonder every day why we’re the ones who came home looking unscathed, but man, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

  Jake’s mouth dropped open before his brain kicked into gear. “You think I’m on some kind of latent post-traumatic guilt trip?” Jake pushed to his feet. The honest fear and concern burning in Tom’s eyes pricked a hole in the burst of fury that had risen in such a flash. Taking a step away from the desk, away from Tom’s burning gaze, Jake sucked in a deep breath and collected his thoughts. “It’s not like that. It’s just been one little side job for the General.”

  Doubtful brows arched high over Tom’s eyes. “For three days in a row?”

  “The project had to be done in stages.” Did he just whine?

  Tom’s gaze sharpened.

  Yeah, Jake had whined. “What I meant was…” What had he meant? That he could have popped over for an hour or so each day but instead found reasons to hang out longer, to spend more time with Heather? To work on more than just the leaky bathroom?

  “Wait a minute.” Tom leaned forward and leveled his gaze with Jake once again. “There’s something running through that thick skull of yours, but it’s not survivor’s guilt at all.”

  The loud ring tone burst from Jake’s phone startling him back a step. Pulling it from his pocket, he answered without checking the caller name. “Hello?”

  “I forgot to mention something last night.”

  There’d been no need to announce herself. Jake recognized the voice. “About what?”

  “You were right. We need the Marine Corps to check that man’s pulse.”

  A smile tugged at either side of his mouth. “That bad?”

  “Oh, yeah. He won’t walk within five feet of me this morning and even the Doc’s nurse won’t take my calls anymore.”

  Jake spun around and caught a glimpse of Tom watching him more closely than he would have expected. “What’s the plan now?”

  “That’s just it. We don’t have one. I know you were in the Corps. Got any ideas?”

  “You can tell me more about what happened when I get there. Then maybe we can come up with a new plan.”

  Rather than step back as would have been appropriate when someone took a private call, Tom inched closer to Jake. His Marine Corps buddy could most likely hear Heather’s every word as clearly as he could.

  “Well, we’ll have plenty of time,” Heather continued. “The General is taking Grams to some specialty yarn shop just north of Boston. They won’t be back till after supper.”

  “Really.” Jake did a mental fist pump. The General couldn’t have played into Jake’s plans any better if Jake had actually told him what he’d hoped to do today. “I should be there in an hour or so. I’m almost finished with some paperwork and then I’ll be heading in your direction.”

  “Thanks. See you soon.”

  His gaze lingered on the phone a second longer than it probably should have. When he looked up at Tom, the man was grinning like a drunken fool.

  “I can’t believe I was worried about you.” Shaking his head, Tom took a step back. “It’s a girl.”

  How was he supposed to answer that? Yes. Because it was. But it wasn’t. No, what this came down to now wasn’t about any girl. It was about the one who had been curled up on a porch chair reading when everyone else was having fun, the one who decided to save lives and did it, the one whose Mediterranean blue eyes could reel him in with one stubborn blink. Oh yeah, this was definitely about the girl.

  ***

  “How’s it going, Jake?” Bobby, the manager of the Lawford Lake Marina slapped Jake on the shoulder.

  “Great.” He eyed the few toys in the small showroom. A couple of Jet Skis, a bass boat, and a sleek speedboat in bright cherry red that would make any man who loved the lake drool.

  “That’s a beaut, isn’t she?”

  “Certainly eye catching.” Unable to resist, Jake ran his hand along the sleek hull.

  Instincts like a shark, Bobby smelled his first whiff of blood. “You ready to stop renting and buy your own? She’s got stern drive, ski bar, split bench rear with step through teak swim platform. This baby will leave butter smooth wakes.” He raised his brows. “Slalom skiing is better than ever.”

  For a while there Jake had been stashing money away for some lake toys of his own, but through the years he’d had less time to spend playing and better uses for his money. Mrs. Norton’s rotted siding came to mind and Jake pulled his hand away from the sweet ride. “Too nice a day not to spend some of it on the lake.”

  “That it is.” In a silent statement, Bobby leaned against the shiny boat.

  Maybe some day. In the meantime, “I was thinking of renting a couple of Jet Skis for the afternoon.”

  “Couple?” Bobby grinned. The Marina had been a family business since the first boat was brought to Lawford Lake. Technically Bobby’s dad owned the business but as far as day to day activity went, it might as well have belonged to Bobby. “You holding out on me?”

  First Tom now Bobby. The two had gone through twelve years of public school together. In a town as small as Lawford, and a county as rural as Beachum, even if you weren’t in the same grade, everyone knew everyone. Including who dated who, who crushed on who, and who got lucky under the football bleachers. Except now they were all grown up and some things didn’t need to be broadcast to the entire town. “Nope. Just too nice a day to spend alone.”

  Bobby raised one questioning brow. Whether or not the former high school football star believed him or not didn’t really matter. Finally, when it was clear Jake had nothing else to add, Bobby nodded. “We’ve got a couple of new trade-ins that just went into the rental line. But I think I have a better idea.”

  “Great.” Jake followed the man out the door and down one of the long wooden docks. When Bobby stopped and pointed, Jake knew what he had to do. Wasn’t Heather going to be surprised?

  ***

  “I don’t know.” Violet sat in the middle of the front yard, soles of her feet touching, knees against the ground, palms raised to the sun. “I’m starting to think you’re all wrong about this.”

  The thought had crossed Heather’s mind. Not since the first day had she seen any sign of dizziness in the General, and the coughing seemed to have stopped, though she couldn’t put her finger on how many days ago. Still none of it made sense. If he wasn’t sick, why was he hiding from Doc Wilkins? Why wouldn’t he let her even take his temperature? Something had to be up. “And if I’m not?”

  “Yeah, well, that’s the rub.” Violet shot her legs out straight in front of her and leaned back on her elbows. “If you’re not and we don’t push it and something happens, well…”

/>   “None of us will be able to live with ourselves.” Heather looked down the Point and over the lake. Everything seemed so simple, easy when all you focused on was the serenity of Mother Nature at her best. Maybe she shouldn’t pick on her sister quite so much. And maybe not every physical ailment had to be a matter of life and death. Still…

  “What if we just sit down with Grams? I know you didn’t want to worry her, but if she knows what’s going on…?” Violet let the question hang.

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  Her sister’s brows bobbed up and down in what could only be described as a facial shrug.

  “Oh, this is silly.” Heather popped up from the grass and stood looking down at Violet. “I only have two more days.”

  Violet’s serene expression crumpled in confusion.

  “I have to be back to work on Monday.” Even if Kyle and her other patients were doing well—in Kyle’s case, in less than twenty four hours he’d gone from a concern to better than well—she had responsibilities. “It’s practically a miracle I managed to clear my schedule for this many days as it is.”

  “True,” her sister smiled up at her, “but it has been nice being back at the lake together. Would have been nice if Rose had made it up.”

  “And Iris and Zinnia. I haven’t seen them in ages.” Heather couldn’t even calculate how long it had been.

  “Hard to keep up with Iris. That family she works for does more traveling around the world than Phileas Fogg.”

  “Who?”

  “You know, Pierce Brosnan.”

  Heather continued to stare expectantly.

  “Phileas Fogg. Around The World In Eighty Days.” When Heather’s befuddled expression didn’t clear, Violet shook her head. “Never mind Miss Nose-Always-In-A-Science-Book. Last I heard I think they’re planning a trip to Thailand.”

  “Wow.” Heather hadn’t been more than a couple of hundred miles outside of Boston since, well, since Stanford. “Sounds amazing, I think, but I’m not sure I’d like that. I mean maybe if I got to—you know—perform surgery on poor kids or something.”

  “That’s my sis.” Violet grinned up at her. Not a hint of irony, only sheer pride.

  Maybe some day she should look into that. Doctors Without Borders, or some other association, but in the meantime she had a different problem to fix much closer to home. “What are we going to do?”

  “About Iris?”

  “No,” Heather huffed out her frustration. “I’m a grown woman. A recognized heart surgeon. Why won’t the General just cooperate? Why is he making this so difficult for us?”

  “Good question,” the familiar baritone asked.

  Rising fury with her stubborn grandfather crashed at the sight of Jake approaching from… Heather scanned the driveway. “Where’d you come from?”

  “Nice to see you too,” he laughed.

  Violet stuck her arm straight out toward the lake. “Thataway.”

  Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, Heather looked out. “Well you didn’t rise from the fallows like Nessy.”

  A warm chuckle rumbled from deep in his chest. The sound gave her goose bumps. Now wasn’t that ridiculous. Then he pinned his gaze on hers and the mind-scrambling connection from last night was back. If she thought last night’s attraction was merely an illusion spawned from the romance of the moonlight and the music, or the proximity of confined quarters, she was very much mistaken. If the heat flooding every vein remembering the kitchen kiss was any indication, all that was needed for her to melt in place was a smile from Jake Harper. And what was she going to do about that?

  ***

  Everything in Jake wanted to reach out and run his fingers along the curve of Heather’s jaw, the length of her neck, across her shoulders and then take her in his arms and hold her there until they were too old and feeble to stand on their own two feet.

  He had two days until she returned to her world, and he was going to make darn sure that she never forgot them—or him. Holding out a large gym bag, he held the smile that came so easily. “You’ll want to go put this on.”

  She accepted the bag but kept her gaze on him. “You still haven’t told me where you came from.” His grin stretched wider across his face. “Ah, that’s a secret.” He handed Violet a similar bag.

  “Ooh, I like surprises.” Violet unzipped the bag.

  At the same time Violet pulled out the contents of her bag, Heather dangled the dark gray suit that had been in hers. “What is this?”

  “I’d have thought it was obvious. A wet suit.”

  “Yes,” Heather chuckled. “I know that, but why are you giving this to me?”

  “Mostly because I don’t want any arguments about the lake giving you hypothermia.”

  “Oh, no.” She shook her head. “I am not, I repeat not, swimming in that thing this time of year.”

  Violet looked up. “She may have a point, buddy.”

  “Did I say anything about swimming?”

  “Actually,” Heather let the hand holding the suit fall to her side “you haven’t said much of anything that makes sense.”

  “You told me you’d never danced on the beach before.”

  Her cheeks tinged a pretty shade of pale pink.

  “I think I hear Lucy calling me.” Violet jumped to her feet.

  “No.” Jake forced himself to tear his gaze away from Heather. “Stay, this is for all of us.”

  Violet stopped, but she had that look of a deer about to dart across the road.

  He returned his attention to Heather. “And that you didn’t know how to water ski.”

  Beautiful blue eyes widened with understanding and luscious pink lips that he’d love to kiss again, only this time for hours, formed a perfect O.

  “I thought now was as good a time as any.” He had to resist a ridiculous urge to dig his toe into the sand and cross his fingers behind his back.

  From the corner of his eye he saw Violet shift her gaze from him to her sister before nodding. “I think it’s a great idea, but I already know how to water ski and I really do think I hear Lucy.” And just like that she darted up the hill and across the drive.

  “Even in the summer the water is never really warm. By now it has to be freezing,” Heather muttered.

  He didn’t let his smile fade. “Not really, but that’s what the suit is for.”

  Staring down at the suit in her hand, she heaved in such a deep breath, he could see her chest expand and release the air in a soft whoosh.

  “Bobby at the Marina loaned me his personal boat.” He hadn’t realized how desperately he wanted her to say yes. To be the one to bring more fun into her life.

  She looked over his shoulder to the lake.

  “It’s tied up. Go on inside. Change into a swimsuit and let’s give this a shot.”

  Clutching the wet suit to her chest, she sucked in a long breath and bobbed her head. “Let’s.” Then, grinning like a teenager on summer break, she spun around and ran up the hill after her sister.

  Jake had to take in an equally long deep breath to slow his racing heart. If luck and the grace of God were on his side, maybe this wouldn’t be the only thing she’d be willing to give a shot.

  ***

  Bolting up the porch steps two at a time, Heather couldn’t get inside Hart House fast enough to change. In such a hurry, she almost didn’t see her grandmother knitting in her favorite rocker. “Grams, I thought you were going to the yarn store?”

  “Just waiting on your grandfather to get off the computer chat.” The woman didn’t look up. “Where’s the fire, dear?”

  “Oh, I’m uh,” she glanced down the hill to Jake by the edge of the Point and felt a smile rise up from her heart and take over her face, “going water skiing.”

  Keeping her eyes on the blanket that seemed to have doubled in size and distortion since a few days ago, her grandmother smiled. “That’s nice, dear.”

  Nice? Was it? She looked to the water again. Yes, yes it was. Leaning over, Heathe
r threw her arms around this pleasant, kind—and in her own way—always supportive woman. “Love you, Grams.”

  Carefully setting the needles down on her lap, Grams raised one arm to squeeze her back. “Love you too.” This time she looked Heather in the eye and Heather had the feeling her grandmother knew so much more than she let on.

  In record speed, Heather was on the boat in an old swimsuit that hadn’t seen the light of day in years, covered by the wet suit that fit surprisingly well, and listening carefully to every word Jake said, even if most of it was going in one ear and out the other. After all, how was anyone supposed to process words when the speaker wore a skintight suit that showed every well-toned muscle?

  “You think you got that?”

  Heather blinked. Oh. Instructions. “Yes.” She smiled.

  “Good.” He gave her a thumbs up. “Now for driving the boat.”

  She blinked again. “Driving?”

  “Yes. I’m going to go in first. This way you can see how I do it. Granted, it’s not the same watching but it can give you a visual to the instructions before you go in yourself.”

  “I see.” Though she didn’t really. Part of her felt as though someone was telling her how to perform heart surgery, then saying watch me, knowing the next thing would be her turn. But this wasn’t surgery. It was sport. And though she’d never been an athlete, how hard could it be?”

  “Now,” he said, standing behind her, his arms around her sides, one on the steering wheel, one on the throttle. “You don’t want to just ram it up or the person on the end of the rope will go face first into the water.”

  She nodded. Made sense. Physics classes on velocity and motion came to mind.

  “You want to ease her into it.” He pushed the handle up. “Nice and easy.”

  Jake might have been talking about the boat and the lake and waterskiing, but she was getting goose bumps all over again.

  “You try it.”

  Smiling up at him, she bobbed her head, and then faced forward, did exactly as he’d showed her.