Her Texas Family. Jill Lynn
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And she’d been right.
At least for a while. They’d welcomed Mattie into the world, and Graham had fallen for her just as he had her mother. The years of residency had begun. Brooke had been a rock. Working, taking care of Mattie and shining like never before. Motherhood had fit her. Both of their parents had helped out as much as they could while living over an hour away. Things had settled in again. He’d been months from finishing his residency when Brooke got sick.
Graham should have been able to save her. He should have had the knowledge. He’d pushed her doctors for every detail, searched for answers himself—any treatment options they might be missing. But in the end, it hadn’t been enough. He hadn’t been enough. She’d faded quickly, no matter what he’d done. No matter what he’d prayed.
He still didn’t know how he’d made it through those last months of residency without her. Prayers and family had carried him. Graham had come out stumbling. He’d followed through on his and Brooke’s plan to move back to Fredericksburg and open a clinic near both of their parents, missing her as though part of his heart had been surgically removed.
He’d done it for Mattie. Graham would do anything for Mattie. Which was why he’d continued to practice medicine while doubts about his abilities as a doctor assailed him.
If he thought too much about Brooke, about how he’d failed her and been unable to save her, then he wanted to crawl into bed and never come out.
Instead, Graham focused on Mattie. Her needs before his. He kept putting one foot in front of the other, hoping the whole town wouldn’t notice he’d fallen flat on his face two years before.
“You still with me, Hollywood?” Lucy’s question interrupted his sprint down memory lane. She’d moved closer, about a foot away, bringing the scent of lime and coconut with her.
“Hollywood?”
Her lips lifted. “So, you can hear me. I wasn’t sure for a minute.”
A light breeze tousled her hair, and Lucy pulled her curls to one side while the hem of her skirt flitted above her knees.
For a second, Graham questioned his sanity, asking Lucy to keep working for him. He only knew his decision had nothing to do with her looks and everything to do with his medical office. Lucy was good at the position—okay, maybe good was too strong a word at this point. She had the potential to do well, and that was what mattered.
Besides, it wasn’t as if he was in love with the woman. He could simply admit she was beautiful and leave it at that. Anyone meeting Lucy would think the same.
Relief slid down his spine. A bit of attraction? That he could handle. He wasn’t signing up for anything more than a businesslike friendship with Lucy Grayson.
Graham and Lucy started walking toward the office, Lucy a few steps in front of him. Without permission, his eyes slid down her belted dress, noticing the way it hugged her curves and showcased her legs. He quickly bounced his gaze to the sky and bit back a groan. The outfit was professional, he would give her that. But it was also distracting. To him. He was positive Hunter hadn’t minded rescuing Lucy, though the man hadn’t seemed as frazzled by the incident as Graham had been.
“You know, you could wear scrubs if you want. A lot of people working in medical offices do. It simplifies things.”
Plus, maybe scrubs would help keep his thoughts focused on work instead of on the woman in front of him.
“Scrubs?” Lucy turned back, nose wrinkled. “I’m not really a scrubs kind of girl. I think I’ll pass.”
That was exactly what he’d feared.
Before Lucy could even consider teaching her first Saturday-morning beginner’s ballet class, she needed two things—a Diet Coke and her sunglasses.
Assuming she’d left her sunglasses at work yesterday, since they weren’t on the floor of her car, Lucy had left early enough to swing by Graham’s office this morning and then hit the drive-through. Some things were worth the sacrifice of a few minutes of lost sleep.
Graham had given her a key to the office on Wednesday, which she considered his peace offering after their confrontation Tuesday. The rest of the week they’d been cordial to each other. Lucy had been scrambling to learn about the job, and Graham had been Mr. Polite. He’d been patient with her and completely professional. He treated her the way she saw him treat everyone else—very respectfully. It bored her just a titch, and Lucy had almost found herself wishing for the snarly Graham back, if only for the entertainment value.
She pulled into the lot of the small redbrick building, surprised to see Graham’s car there. Did he work Saturdays, too?
Lucy parked and walked inside, calling out her arrival. When no one answered, she checked the reception desk. Score. Her favorite Ray-Ban sunglasses—red on the front, multicolored on the inside—were peeking out from under some papers. She grabbed them.
“Hi, Lucy.”
She placed a hand over her thudding heart and turned. “Hey, Mattie. What are you up to?”
“I was drawing in Daddy’s office. He’s working.”
Huh. That did not sound like a fun Saturday to Lucy.
“What are you wearing?” Mattie’s eyes traveled the length of Lucy’s dance sweatshirt, striped fitted shirt that landed just past her hips, leggings and bright green Converse high-tops.
“Clothes for teaching dance. Except for the shoes. Those I have to change when I get there because you can’t wear ballet shoes on the street.”
“You teach dance?” Mattie’s eyes grew large. She bounced on the toes of her pink tennis shoes. “And do you wear the pink slippers?”
“Yes and yes.” Delight had erased the seriousness Lucy had come to expect on Mattie’s face.
“And you do the twirls?”
A pirouette. “Yes.” Lucy stooped to Mattie’s height. “Do you...do you want to take ballet, Mattie?”
She nodded quickly, then looked down at the floor.
“Have you asked your dad?”
She shook her head.
Why hadn’t she asked Graham? In the past few days, Lucy had learned the little girl was a miniature adult—possibly more mature than Lucy—and that she always seemed slightly sad.
That last one killed Lucy. She couldn’t curb the deep desire to make it better, to give the girl some fun. A little joy.
When Lucy had been ten, her uncle had died unexpectedly. Her dad had been devastated over losing his brother, and Lucy had taken it upon herself to cheer him up.
She’d done everything she could to bring happiness back into his life. She’d put on plays. Performed hilarious songs. Made him funny cards and left him notes. Sneaked silly faces at the dinner table. Eventually, it had worked. Dad had called her his sunshine, and cheering people up had become her thing. She already read people’s emotions quickly, so delving into helping them came naturally.
And Lucy just couldn’t resist bringing some cheer into sweet, serious Mattie’s life.
“I think we should ask him.”
Mattie bit her lip. “Okay.”
Lucy glanced at her watch. She wouldn’t have time for her Diet Coke run if she talked to Graham about Mattie doing dance. But when a little hand slipped into hers, Lucy knew it didn’t matter.
Her decision had already been made.
* * *
Graham heard a noise down the hall and stood from behind his desk.