Courting His Favourite Nurse. Lynne Marshall
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by his side?
She slowed down as she drove past one of the three main restaurants in town feeling like a stalking teenager. Her heart raced as she looked closer. At least he wasn’t holding the woman’s hand. So what was the deal about asking her to go hiking?
Time marches on and she’d been gone for a while now, so she couldn’t exactly hold a grudge if Jack had a girlfriend. She groaned over getting swept up in the crappy moment. Why did she feel like she was in high school again mooning over the jock that got away? Sure, Jack, take the good ol’ buddy hiking, buy the redhead dinner. Now thoroughly confused, she hit the gas and headed for the market.
A half hour later, she parked the car in the garage and entered through the kitchen with the bags, where Bart met her. “Good boy. Did you take care of mommy?” His tail thumped the nearby counter.
She put everything away, grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and took a swig. Mom was asleep in the recliner in the family room, so she plopped down on the same couch from which she used to watch Buffy, glad they hadn’t gotten rid of it with the remodel.
Mom had apparently fallen asleep watching some reality show about crab fishermen, and the narrator’s voice sounded just like her father’s. Loud. Friendly. Baritone. Maybe that’s why her mother smiled in her sleep? Anne hoped Dad was getting used to his huge cast and lack of independence. He’d seemed restless and impatient earlier today when she’d visited him, which didn’t bode well for when he came home after the weekend.
Something pushed against her back. She pulled it out as she took another drink. Grandma’s fancy embroidery decorated a small lacy pillow Anne had seen her entire life: Good things come to those who wait.
She wouldn’t dare call her grandma corny, but so far the catchy saying hadn’t panned out. Her fingers traced the precision stitches.
Just how long was a girl supposed to wait?
The next morning Anne glared at her puffy eyes and sallow complexion. Would Jack notice if she put on some mascara? For hiking? She imagined sweat getting into her eyes and the black smudges under her lids when she rubbed them in the glaring sun. Maybe not.
What would they talk about? Would everything focus around Brianna? She wasn’t sure she was ready to talk about her personal life with him, wasn’t sure he deserved to know anything. Why had she agreed to go hiking? Oh, right, she’d been bamboozled into it.
If she kept things superficial, she might bore him to death, then maybe he’d leave her alone so she could finally forget him.
Concentrate on the hiking, Anne. The hiking.
The doorbell rang. One last pat of her uncooperative hair then she jogged down the hall to answer it. It wasn’t Jack, and the disappointment surprised her. Why work up a perfectly good case of jitters for nothing?
Jocelyn greeted her wearing workout gear with a warm-up jacket, her hair in a high bouncy ponytail. They hugged in greeting. “I thought I’d bring Bart along while I walk my dogs.”
Bart must have heard his name since he came bounding down the hall, pads slip-sliding around the corner.
“He’d love it!” Anne knelt to get face-to-face with the dog. “You want to walk?” He knew the word and tossed his head in excitement, letting out a dog-styled squeal. “Let me get his leash.” By now, he’d worked himself into a frenzy, whining and prancing around in circles.
“I’ll help your mom get ready for her appointment when I get back,” Jocelyn said as she trotted off with three dogs pulling her down the street.
Anne waved goodbye and watched for a few moments. She smiled then immediately stopped as she caught a glance of Jack’s car coming up the tree-canopied street, releasing a new flock of butterflies in her chest. Should she stand there and wait for him to arrive and park, or go back inside? Adrenaline pumped through her veins, another unwanted reminder of what Jack could do to her. If she stood here gawking he’d be able to tell how nervous she was. If she went back inside, she ran the risk of him seeing her and wondering why she didn’t wait for him. Make up your mind, Anne, go inside or wait out here.
Maybe the most important question was: After all these years, why could Jack still make her act like such a scatterbrain?
Chapter Three
Jack arrived at Anne’s house just before eight with a backpack filled with water and sandwiches, and an unnerving pulse thumping in his chest. White clouds scudded across the soft blue sky thanks to typical Whispering Oaks weather, as spring sunshine warmed his shoulders on the walk to her door. He needed a deep breath to calm down, to put things into perspective. This was just a hike with an old high school friend … whom he’d happened to fall for and put on the spot a long time ago. Hell, no one felt guiltier about that than he did. If he worked things right, maybe today he could broach the subject, and apologize. Maybe, finally, they could start fresh, see where it led.
He knocked three times, and she opened the door as if she’d been standing right on the other side.
“Hi,” he said, the sight of Anne forcing him to either jump into action or stand there like a tongue-tied idiot. “Ready for a workout?” he asked, having gone the animated route, sounding more like a male cheerleader than the contrite dude he’d imagined.
“Sure!” Evidently his fake pep was contagious.
Anne looked great in shorts and cross trainers. Her greeting smile competed with the bright sky, and he was extra glad she’d worn her hair down.
She glanced upward. “Looks like a great day for a hike. Hold on a sec while I say goodbye to my mom.”
He took the opportunity to give himself a stern talking to. No expectations. Just be yourself, then tell her you’re sorry. Sorry about everything.
When she returned, her bubbly façade seemed to have worn off. Had Beverly, with all her good intentions, put too much pressure on her and made this out to be more than a hike? He could only guess. She gave him a solemn glance as she closed and checked the lock on the front door. Putting on her sunglasses she started down the brick pathway to the steps across the lawn. On the walk to the curb, he liked how the sun seemed woven through her nutmeg-colored waves, and was so distracted he almost missed a step. Dude, get a grip.
He rushed to open the car door for her. “I guess we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
She paused before getting into the car. “I thought we were hiking,” she said, and he’d have given a hundred dollars to get a look behind her Hollywood-large sunglasses to try to read this mood shift. His fishing expedition wasn’t going to be nearly as easy as he’d hoped. In all honesty, could he blame her?
Suddenly feeling more like being on one of his computer-arranged dates instead of hanging with his old friend, he started with the usual superficial banter as they drove off. “So, how do you like living in Portland?”
“It’s great,” was all she said, glancing out the passenger window.
“It’s a shame about what happened to your parents, huh?”
She sighed. “Thank goodness it wasn’t worse.”
Could the conversation get any more stilted than this? He decided to back off and see how things played out as he switched on the radio.
Fifteen minutes later, by the time they’d reached the parking area and he hadn’t made much headway with breaking Anne’s icy barrier, the familiar sight of their old hiking grounds made him grin.
“Remember?” he said, only now realizing how tight his jaw had gotten with her silence.
She nodded, a tentative twitch to her lips that he interpreted as a smile.
He shrugged the backpack over his shoulders. “I’ve got water if you need it.” He tried not to stare at her smooth legs that had shaped up nicely since her track days. “Just holler if you want to take any