Читать книгу The Bride Said, 'Surprise!' - Cathy Gillen Thacker - Страница 9

“How much longer do you think you can keep avoiding me?” Luke Carrigan demanded early Thursday morning.

Meg Lockhart was so startled to see the attractive young family physician striding into her backyard, she nearly dropped her sanding block. Determined not to let his unexpected presence or the deceptively easy-going, all-male way he moved get to her, Meg rocked back on her heels and looked over at him. It was only seven in the morning, but, freshly showered and shaved, Dr. Luke Carrigan looked more than ready to take on the day and any challenge—including her—that came his way.

Privately wishing he weren’t so smart, sexy and intuitive as all get out where she was concerned, Meg ignored the sudden pounding of her heart and looked into his golden-brown eyes with all the directness she could muster. “I’ve spoken to you,” Meg said stiffly, wondering how Luke had known she had the day off and was planning to use it to refinish an old wooden park bench for her backyard, then deciding she didn’t want to know if there was matchmaking going on.

“Only at the hospital,” Luke corrected her grimly, moving closer yet. “And only when absolutely necessary. And then only about hospital business.”

Meg refused to feel guilty for avoiding Luke and his three adorable little girls at her sister’s wedding the day before. She had only been doing what she had to do, which was keep Luke and her five-year-old son, Jeremy, well apart. “So?” Meg kept her eyes trained on his ruggedly handsome face. She did not want to think about how sexy Luke looked in faded jeans that clung to his lean hips and muscular thighs and a sage-green polo shirt that showed off his broad shoulders, flat stomach and trim waist. Any more than she wanted to fall prey to his charming smile.

“So we were friends, Meg,” Luke reminded her gently. He shoved a hand through his neatly cut sandy-blond hair and, still regarding her patiently, hunkered down next to her, his muscular, jean-clad knee nudging her bare thigh.

“At least until…”

Meg took a deep, bracing breath and resumed sanding the old wooden slats with a vengeance, rubbing away the splinters the way she wished she could erase the problems of the past. “I don’t want to talk about this,” she said firmly, breathing in his woodsy aftershave. She moved back slightly, so their bodies were no longer touching. “Jeremy could wake up and overhear.”

“And realize we were once the very best of friends?” Luke stayed right where he was and continued to regard her in that approachable, guy-friend way that had gotten to her the way no Casanova moves ever could have. “At least—” Luke’s voice dropped another notch “—until we slept together.”

Memories of the two of them, their bodies intimately entwined, cascaded over her like a waterfall on a hot summer day. Her heart and mind filled with the passion they had shared, Meg cast a glance over her shoulder at the cottage behind her. She turned back to him, her eyes roving over his tall, solidly built frame and broad, powerful shoulders before coming to rest once again on the arrestingly handsome contours of his face. “I had hoped we would never have to discuss this.” As she had hoped—by her silence—that he would have gotten the message.

Luke took her wrist in hand and tugged her to her feet. “And all I’ve ever wanted to do is talk about it,” he countered softly, meaningfully, reluctantly letting go of her wrist, “and tell you how very sorry I am I let things get out of control that way.”

Meg sighed. “I am as much to blame for what happened that night as you are, Luke.” Hindsight and maturity had combined to show her that.

“I don’t think so,” Luke replied in a clipped tone, heavy with self-reproach.

Meg had to tilt her head back to see his face. Both his height—at six-five he had a good eight inches on her—and his closeness were disconcerting to her. As was her potent reaction to his sheer physical attractiveness. Every time she was near him, her heart beat a little faster, her senses got a little sharper and the loneliness she’d felt since their friendship abruptly ended became more acute. And yet, how could she regret the mistake that had ended their friendship, knowing how that night had changed her life for all eternity?

“You didn’t know what you were doing, you were so upset,” Luke continued.

Meg shook her head. “It’s still no excuse. I might have already broken up with Kip Brewster, but I also knew you were about to ask Gwyneth to marry you.” The fact she had always felt Gwyneth was all wrong for Luke was of no consequence. He’d still been Gwyneth’s steady, and Meg had ignored that fact when she’d let a comforting hug take on an entirely different meaning.

“You had just lost your parents in that deadly tornado and become head of the family. You needed someone to hold on to, while you waited for morning and a flight home. I just happened to be there.”

He hadn’t just been her friend—he had been her lifeline that night. “Even so, I should never have kissed you, Luke,” Meg said around the unaccustomed dryness of her throat. “Especially not that way.” A way that said he was the only man there would ever be for her.

Luke shrugged matter-of-factly, looking not nearly as regret-filled as she would have expected. “I kissed you back.”

How well Meg remembered that. Through high school, college and into grad school, she had dated a lot of different guys. Many of those dates had ended with goodnight kisses. But none had ever been like that. Meg suspected, there might never be again. But that was just chemistry, and the chemistry between them had ruined their friendship and nearly wrecked both their lives. Would have, if Meg had allowed Luke’s guilt over their lovemaking to break up his relationship with Gwyneth. But she had done what she had to do then, just as she would do what she had to do now. “It was a long time ago,” Meg said wearily. She dropped the sanding block onto the bench.

“I agree.” Luke stood, arms folded in front of him, legs braced apart. “What I don’t understand is why you’re still acting as if it just happened yesterday. Why, years later, are you avoiding me like the plague?”

Meg wiped her hands on the rag she’d stuck in the waistband of her shorts. She turned away. Doing her best to quell the growing heat in her cheeks, she studied the quarter acre of tidy green lawn that separated her two-bedroom “guest cottage” from the much bigger “main house” next door. Once all part of the same residence, the two properties had been split up years before and sold to different owners, then sold again. “Because I am ashamed and humiliated by the way I behaved,” Meg said.

Luke lifted a brow. “Because you’re human? Because you’re a woman? Because you were reeling with grief and acted impulsively?” As Meg turned back to face him, he studied her implacably. “Or is it something more that has made you keep me at arm’s length?” he continued, giving her the slow once-over. “Like Jeremy.”

Meg swallowed around the sudden knot of emotion in her throat and tried to still the sudden trembling of her heart. “My son has nothing to do with my feelings about that night,” Meg replied firmly. “Or you.”

“Where is he?” Luke asked, his voice taking on a protective, parental quality Meg didn’t like one bit.

Her confidence at being able to handle this situation, simply by steering clear of Luke as much as possible, wavered. “He’s still asleep.”

“And his father?” Luke grilled Meg deliberately.

“Where is he?”

Meg knew what Luke was driving at. She put up a hand to prevent Luke from asking any more questions. He ignored her and pushed on anyway.

“When exactly was Jeremy born, Meg?”

That, she could answer. “Eight months after my parents died, on December first.”

Silence fell between them. Disappointment flashed across Luke’s face. “Meaning his father is that guy you almost married—Kip Brewster,” he said, almost sadly. Anguish glimmered in his golden-brown eyes. “And not me.”

Meg’s shoulders stiffened as she stared at the light dusting of sandy-brown hair on Luke’s arms. Guilt and confusion filled her heart. She was tempted to confess all, to lean on Luke’s broad shoulders and inherently gallant and romantic nature once again. But even as she was tempted, she knew Luke and knew she couldn’t do it. Luke was the kind of selfless-to-a-fault man who took his obligations seriously. He was quick to help anyone and everyone else out. The fallout came later when the good intentions in his head did not match the feelings in his heart. How quickly—and irrevocably—she had learned that.

She had decided what was right years ago. Amid much attempted interference from family and friends, she had taken responsibility for her actions and stuck to her guns in protecting her son from the kind of hurt and rejection she had suffered. She wasn’t going to change direction now. Reminding herself that she was protecting everyone with her silence, Meg lifted her head indignantly. “Haven’t you heard? I don’t discuss Jeremy’s father with anyone. I never have and never will.” Life was so much simpler that way. She and Jeremy weren’t a burden to anyone.

Still studying her bluntly, he took another step closer. “Surely your sisters know the truth.”

They all certainly wanted to know, Meg thought, as feelings of guilt and remorse hit her anew. “If my sisters knew the identity of Jeremy’s father they would be on that man’s doorstep in a red-hot Texas second, demanding he step up to the gate and do right by us whether he wanted to or not.” And that Meg couldn’t allow. Especially after all this time had passed.

Luke’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with it is that I know what it’s like to be suddenly shouldered with the care and responsibility of another human being,” she said curtly.

Luke’s glance softened. “Which is what happened when you became the legal guardian to your sisters,” he noted compassionately.

Despite herself, Meg warmed to the understanding in Luke’s low, sensual tone. The goodness in him was what had made them such fast friends in the beginning and kept her from hurting him and his family later. Taking the cloth rag from her belt, she wiped down the bench, checked for splinters, found none. “I love my sisters and I was glad to do it,” she admitted with gut-wrenching honesty, “but I’d be lying if I said there weren’t times when I resented having such enormous responsibility thrust on me that way.”

“Did you feel that way about Jeremy, too?”

Meg sank down on the bench, grappling with her feelings all the while. She wasn’t sure why. She just knew she wanted Luke to realize how confused and distraught she’d been back then. “From the first moment I realized I was pregnant, I was happy about having a baby,” she admitted slowly, overcome with an onslaught of feeling.

“But I was also dismayed,” she continued softly. Shaking her head, she stood, slid her hands into the deep pockets of her khaki walking shorts and began to pace away from Luke. “The timing was all wrong. I wasn’t married. I wasn’t ready for a baby.” She whirled back toward Luke.

“I had to sell the family ranch and settle the debts and deal with my sisters and help them get over their grief, and all the while try to manage my own sadness, which was darn near completely overwhelming.” Meg paused and lifted her eyes to Luke’s. “I just…I couldn’t take on any more back then.” If she’d had to deal with the immensely complicated situation regarding Jeremy’s father, she wouldn’t have made it, that she knew.

Luke trod closer. “Jeremy’s father could have helped you cope,” he said quietly.

As always, when this subject was introduced, Meg felt her defenses come up. “He also could have sued me for custody. Or gone overboard to help and then later resented me and Jeremy for the disruption we caused in his life.” Neither option had been wanted. Meg hadn’t been able to bear the idea of Jeremy’s presence hurting anyone, for fear Jeremy’d realize he wasn’t wanted the way he deserved to be wanted by absolutely everyone.

Luke studied her. “You think Jeremy’s father would have done that?”

Meg shrugged, abruptly feeling as confused and helpless as she had back then. “That’s the point. I didn’t know what his reaction might be under the circumstances.” Never mind his wife’s. “And I didn’t want to find out the hard way, especially if it meant Jeremy—and others—would be hurt in the process. I had all I could do to take care of my parents’ estate, my sisters, my baby and myself. There was no room in my life for a man who was never meant to be with me and who didn’t want or plan this child, either.”

Luke frowned. He massaged the muscles on the back of his neck. “I think you’re not giving Kip Brewster enough credit. I know the two of you parted badly, but you must have liked something about him—you two dated for months and even talked about getting married—and, from what I remember, he seemed like a decent guy.”

On the surface, that was true, Meg knew. Kip was from a wealthy Texas family. Bright and articulate, he had always behaved like a perfect gentleman and treated Meg with care. It was what Kip was capable of behind the scenes that had led to their breakup. But again, that wasn’t the kind of personal angst and drama Meg shared with anyone. It was bad enough she knew what a complete fool Kip had made of her, without letting everyone else know how deeply she had been humiliated. And that especially included Luke. For some reason Meg couldn’t quite put her finger on, she didn’t want Luke knowing how truly clueless she had been back then. And because Kip had been in the university law school, Meg and Luke in the medical and nursing schools, there was no reason Luke should ever know, no reason Kip’s and Luke’s paths should ever cross again. Especially since Kip had never even been to Laramie. And he and Meg hadn’t had contact since she left Chicago.

“I never said Jeremy’s father was Kip,” Meg said, piqued.

“Are you saying he isn’t then?” Luke probed.

Warmth climbed from Meg’s neck into her face. “I’m not saying anything other than that Kip Brewster has no business in this matter, period,” Meg insisted stubbornly, and saw the hollows beneath Luke’s cheekbones grow more pronounced. Clearly, he disapproved of the way she had handled this situation from the start. Which was something else Meg didn’t need—Luke’s condemnation.

Luke stared at Meg as if he no longer had the slightest clue who she was. “I gather this means your son has no idea who his father is, either,” he said grimly.

Meg’s feelings on that were firm. “Why fill his head with stories of someone who will never be able to be a father to him? It would only make him want something he could never have.” Having secretly been in love with the same man for most of her adult life, Meg knew what that was like. It wasn’t fun.

Silence fell as Luke continued to study her without a hint of apology. “I can see you’re trying to help,” Meg said finally, a little in awe of his tenacity.

“I never stopped caring what happened to you, Meg.”

Nor had she ever stopped caring what happened to Luke, Meg thought. But that changed nothing. Every time she was near him, every time she looked at him, she couldn’t help but recall what it had been like to pour out her heart to him and make love to him like there was no tomorrow. Only to see his regret and realize—when the new day dawned, emotions subsided and common sense returned—that he did not feel the same way about her. She had never been so devastated. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let the same thing happen to her son.

“Look, we can be neighbors and co-workers. But we can’t pretend what happened did not occur because it did.” And consequently her life had never been—would never be—the same.

Luke’s gaze narrowed in silent challenge. “That stand-offish attitude of yours is going to make our lives mighty difficult,” he drawled with easy familiarity.

Every muscle in her body was stiff with tension. “And why would that be?”

Luke gave her a goading smile. Desire, pure and simple, was in his eyes. “Because in about half an hour my three little girls and I are moving in next door.”

FINALLY, LUKE NOTED, he had Meg’s full attention. It sure hadn’t been easy getting it. She had been treating him like an outcast from the moment he arrived in Laramie a week ago, ducking whenever she saw him, only smiling or absently greeting him when she simply could not get around it.

Given the way they’d parted, her refusal to talk to him since, he couldn’t say he’d expected her to greet him with open arms. He’d known the moment they’d actually come face-to-face again that she was no less stubborn or self-reliant. She said she forgave him for giving in to her grief, confusion and need, but she didn’t act as if she’d forgiven him. She acted as if she resented him more than ever.

The part of him that said he didn’t need this—feeling unwanted and unnecessary—was tempted to turn away and let her and the son he’d thought, hoped for one brief incredibly happy moment was his be, just as they had been. The other part of him, the stronger, more noble side, wanted to hang in there, find a way to get past Meg’s hurt and wariness, forget the night that had ended their friendship and find their way back to each other again. Meg needed a confidante and companion as much as he did. Maybe more.

He had hoped, of course, that Meg already would have reached the same conclusion by the time he actually arrived in Laramie. He had hoped enough time would have passed for her to simply meet him halfway. Unfortunately, it hadn’t happened. So he’d been left to take matters into his own hands and seek her out at a time when they were both away from the hospital and could say whatever needed to be said privately and be done with it.

Once again he’d been surprised. Not just by her continued resistance to get close again, but also by her impact on him in a physical sense. He’d met a lot of women in his life, dated more than a few of them, and he’d never wanted any of them the way he wanted Meg Lockhart. To his amazement, during the half dozen years they had been apart, that feeling had only increased. And not just because Meg still had the same easy good looks, inherent gentleness and unconscious spunk and sexiness that had turned his life upside down from the get-go. Yes, she was still as drop-dead gorgeous as ever—even in demure shorts, blouse and white tennis shoes. Her dark-auburn hair was as thick and glossy as ever, and she still liked to wear the thick loose waves swept up in a loose, tousled knot on the back of her head. But his attraction to her went far beyond her mesmerizing aqua-blue eyes, full, soft lips and enticing curves that had been made even lusher and more womanly with the birth of her first and only child. He was attracted to her for the way she made him feel. He had only to look into her eyes to know how special was the immediate emotional connection that once allowed them to become friends. And one day soon, Luke promised himself silently, Meg would realize their attraction needed to be explored. One day soon they’d start over and get to know each other the way they should have the first time. Not just as friends, but as friends and lovers.

“What about your wife?” Meg asked.

Luke tensed as the talk turned to his marriage and that unhappy time of his life. Meg wasn’t the only one who had a romantic life full of regrets she’d rather not dwell on—he had made his share of mistakes in that arena, too, that could not be undone. Like Meg, Luke thought, all he could do was move on. “Gwyneth died two years ago, in a car crash,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry.” Shock filling her eyes, Meg laid a slender hand across her breasts and sucked in a breath. “Was anyone else hurt in the accident?”

Luke grimaced, working hard to keep his emotions at bay. This was one area of his life he didn’t want to talk about, even with Meg. “She was alone when it happened,” he said tersely.

“It must have been very tough for you all,” Meg said compassionately.

Luke nodded. That was the understatement of the century. In many ways he was still grappling with the circumstances surrounding Gwyneth’s death.

“Where are your three little girls now?” Meg asked, abruptly looking and acting very much like the nurse/natural healer she was professionally.

“With John and Lilah McCabe,” Luke explained as Meg knelt next to the freshly sanded park bench. “We’ve been staying at their ranch the past couple of days, while I closed on the house, got acquainted with the hospital and had the utilities turned on here.”

Meg opened a can of primer and began applying it to the wooden slats with slow, even brush strokes. Looking relieved to talk about something other than herself and her son, Meg glanced over at Luke. “How old are they?”

Appreciating the genuine interest and understanding in Meg’s eyes, Luke dropped to the grass beside Meg and got comfortable. He knew he should feel relieved Jeremy wasn’t his son after all—he had his hands full just trying to bring up his three daughters—but he found himself wishing he were Jeremy’s father. He wanted that link to Meg. He wanted an irrefutable reason for them to start over and forge a relationship again.

“Susie is five. She’s all sunshine and storms. Everything is either truly wonderful or a complete disaster. Becca is four. She’s the negotiator of the family and is always trying to strike a deal or make things better for everyone. Amy is three, and she has a very mellow personality. Cooperation is her motto.”

Meg slanted him a glance, beginning to relax even more as the talk stayed on what were, for her, safer subjects. “Sounds like you have your hands full,” she said admiringly.

Luke breathed in the familiar fragrance of Meg’s cinnamon perfume as it mingled with the soap-and-water freshness of her skin. “I do.”

“Do you have help?”

Luke watched the capable movements of her slender hands, unable to help but recall how those same hands had felt sliding over his skin. “In California I had a housekeeper and a retired nurse, who worked as their nanny.”

“Neither came with you?” Finished with the seat, Meg stood and began working on the rest of the bench.

Loathing the deliberate way she held him at arm’s length, Luke shook his head. “Both have family there and didn’t want to move.” As much as he hated to lose them, he understood. He hadn’t just taken the job in Laramie because he’d learned about Jeremy and thought—hoped—he and Meg had a child together that she’d been too afraid to tell him about. He’d come back to Texas for good, this time, because he needed to be closer to his Texas roots. And even though he’d grown up in Houston, next to the oil refinery where his dad had worked, Laramie was such a warm and friendly town it already felt like home.

Meg lifted a brow. “Are you going to hire a nanny here?”

Aware she was gauging his reply carefully, Luke shook his head, his glance tracking the swell of her breasts, pushing against her blouse, and the graceful shape of her bare arms. “I’m planning to put them in the employee day care center over at the hospital,” he replied. “That way I can check on them several times a day and go down and have lunch with them. If they ever need me, I’ll be right there on the premises. When Susie starts kindergarten in the fall, she’ll remain in the center’s before-and-after-school program.”

Blissfully unaware of the effect her close proximity was having on him, Meg swiveled around to look at him with a mixture of empathy and approval. “Jeremy is enrolled there, too,” she said, regarding him, one concerned parent to another. “He really likes it.”

Trying hard not to notice the snug way her shorts stretched over the delectable curves, Luke stood and shifted in a way to ease the growing pressure at the front of his jeans. “Looks like our kids will really be getting to know each other,” he said, glad to know she cared about her son as much as he cared about his daughters. Even if she wasn’t yet doing right by her son’s father, whoever he was.

“I guess so.” Meg smiled at him helpfully, comfortable now that she’d finally decided on a role for them to play, that of emotionally uninvolved neighbors. “Is there anything I can do for you? Maybe make some lunch for you and the girls and bring it over later?”

Luke nodded. He knew what Meg was doing. Falling back into the familiar role of gracious Texas lady while keeping him at arm’s length. She might not know it yet, but this was only a starting place. Although where it would end up, given Meg’s wariness where he was concerned, was yet to be seen. “That would be great,” he said, smiling, too.

Finished, Meg put aside her brush and slapped the lid back on the can of primer. She smiled at him like the “good neighbor and no more” she intended to be. Luke felt his hopes for a quickly resumed friendship fading fast. “Do they like macaroni and cheese?” she asked with a politeness that grated.

Luke nodded, aware this was not working out anywhere near as well as he had hoped. Meg wouldn’t use their kids as an excuse to get close again. She’d use them like a perpetual shield, to keep them apart.

“Mac ’n’ cheese is their favorite,” Luke said. The moving truck drove up and parked in front of the big house next door. “I’d better go,” Luke said reluctantly.

Meg nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

AS MEG EXPECTED, her five-and-a-half-year-old son, Jeremy, was deliriously excited by the sight of such a big truck. She was glad to see it, too, relieved to end her time alone with Luke. She had known he would catch up with her eventually. She had even guessed he would ask about Jeremy’s paternity the first chance he got.

What she hadn’t imagined was how hard it would be for her to be evasive.

Even now, knowing there was no way they could go back and right the wrongs and rewrite the past, she wanted to tell him everything that had happened. And why. If she knew for certain he would understand why she’d done what she had, maybe there’d be a chance for them to be close again. At the very least, caring friends. But life came with no such guarantees.

And that being the case, Meg decided, she couldn’t risk her son being hurt by any mistakes she made. Jeremy had struggled enough, growing up without a father in his life, and didn’t need his life turned upside down now. Maybe she hadn’t been able to give Jeremy a father, but she’d given him everything else—a home, family, security and lots of love. She wasn’t going to risk that being taken away from him.

“Can I go out and watch the movers unload the van?” Jeremy asked as he finished his favorite breakfast of cereal, milk and fruit.

Feeling steadier now that she’d reassured herself her decisions had been the right ones, Meg shot an affectionate look at her son. With his auburn hair, a shade darker than Meg’s, fair freckled skin and chocolate-brown eyes, he was definitely a Lockhart. Already tall for his age, he’d added another inch to his sturdy little body over the summer. “Just make sure you stay in our yard,” Meg cautioned as she helped him tie his sneakers. She shot a look at Luke next door and felt her stomach tighten. “I don’t want you getting in the way of the movers.”

“Okay,” Jeremy said agreeably, going back to the table to quaff the last of his juice. “Do they have any kids?”

Happy about the additional children in the neighborhood, Meg told him about Luke’s three girls.

Jeremy grinned as he ran to get one of his toy trucks. “Now I’ll have someone my age to play with all the time.” Dashing back, he stopped just short of Meg and asked, “Can Alexandra come over and watch the movers unload the van, too?”

Alexandra Remington was Meg’s sister’s new step-daughter, also five. Upon meeting, Jeremy and Alex had quickly become friends. “Sure,” Meg smiled. “If Clara says it’s okay.”

“How come she has to ask Clara instead of Jake and Aunt Jenna?”

“Because Jake and Aunt Jenna just got married yesterday afternoon, honey, and they went to spend their wedding night at a country inn.” Alex had stayed home with her housekeeper-nanny, Clara.

Jeremy wrinkled his nose, perplexed. “How come they wanted to do that?”

“Because they just got married and they wanted to be alone for a while,” Meg said.

Jeremy frowned. “Are they gonna take a honeymoon, like Aunt Dani and Uncle Beau did when they got married?”

“Yes, but not until later this fall, when things are more settled.”

“How come you aren’t getting married, too?” Jeremy demanded, running his truck back and forth over the tabletop.

Out of the mouths of babes, Meg thought. “Because I’m not in love with someone yet,” Meg explained. And the way things are going, she thought dispiritedly, might never be, especially with Luke underfoot, distracting her and reminding her what was and wouldn’t be again.

“But you had me,” Jeremy continued.

“Yes, I did,” Meg smiled, knowing that was the one thing—the only thing—she would never regret. “And I love you very much.” Meg knelt so they were face-to-face, wrapped her arms around Jeremy and hugged him tight. Loving the peace and happiness he brought to her life, she breathed in the baby shampoo scent of his hair and then drew back. Grinning at the excitement dancing in his eyes, she asked, “Now, do you want to call Alex?”

“And Trevor and Teddy and Tyler, too?” Jeremy insisted.

Meg smiled as she thought of the triplet sons of Annie and Travis McCabe. “Okay. Ask them to stay to lunch.” That would keep her and Luke from being alone. It would keep her from realizing all over again just how very attracted she was to him.

UNFORTUNATELY, her sisters, Kelsey and Dani, who dropped by midmorning, were every bit as curious about Meg’s new neighbors as her son, Jeremy, had been.

“I can’t believe Luke Carrington actually bought that house and is moving into it, as is,” Dani murmured, keeping a watchful eye on the five kids now congregated in the side yard, watching the unloading, while Meg, taking solace in the abundance of company, busied herself by rushing around the kitchen, intent on making enough kid-pleasing macaroni and cheese to feed an army.

“It’s a very big house, structurally sound and was sold at a pleasing price. With three girls, Luke Carrington needs a lot of space,” Meg murmured, casting a glance out the window at the large turn-of-the-century Cape Cod next door.

“The lavender exterior paint and the deep-purple trim aren’t exactly guy colors. Not to mention the clashing dark-green shutters and snowy-white door,” Kelsey began critically, watching as Dani’s husband, Beau, and Kelsey’s business partner, Brady Anderson, went over to introduce themselves and lend a hand to Luke and the moving crew.

“That house has the most garish interior paint I have ever seen. I know, because I saw it before I bought my place,” Dani said as she sliced ham for sandwiches.

“So Luke Carrington has his work cut out for him. I’m sure he can manage. To get inspired, all he has to do is look at my place,” Meg said as Kelsey began to help with the salad making. Maybe the redecorating would take up all his spare time and energy.

“Or you,” Dani teased.

Meg rolled her eyes at Dani. Luke had desired her once, but that didn’t mean it would ever happen again. “Just because you and Jenna are happily married and head-over-heels-in-love with your husbands does not mean I have romance on my mind.”

“Maybe you should,” Dani said, covering the filled platter with plastic wrap and sliding it back into the refrigerator. “After all, Luke’s a doctor. You’re a nurse. You both work at Laramie Community Hospital. You both are single and both have kids.”

“You know what I find interesting?” Kelsey interrupted as she washed the lettuce. “That the new doctor in town would have the same name as that buddy of yours from your grad school days in Chicago. Remember how much you used to talk about that guy on the phone to us? It was always Luke this and Luke that.”

Leave it to baby sister Kelsey, the most fickle of all the Lockhart women, to remember a detail like that, Meg thought. And then bring it up at the worst possible time. When she was still feeling vulnerable from Luke’s visit.

Dani’s amber eyes brightened. “That is a coincidence.”

Meg knew she might as well be honest—her sisters would find out soon enough that Luke and she had known each other before. If not from John and Lilah McCabe, who were responsible for bringing Luke to Laramie, then from Luke himself. “It’s the same guy.”

“How did he end up in Laramie?” Kelsey asked as she put the washed lettuce into the salad spinner and gave it a whirl.

Wary of divulging her emotions, Meg gave more than usual concentration to the cheese sauce she was making. “Lilah told me he met John at a family medicine conference on rural medicine in New Mexico last spring,” she replied in the most casual voice she could manage. “John knew he was going to retire this summer, and he encouraged Luke, who was looking for a way to come back to the state where he grew up, to apply for the position at the hospital here.”

Looking every bit the native Texas cowgirl she was, in jeans, chambray shirt and boots, Kelsey leaned against the kitchen counter and munched on a carrot. “You never did tell us why you had that falling out with Luke after Mom and Dad died.”

Meg did her best to curtail a blush as she drained the cooked macaroni through the colander in the sink. “It wasn’t a falling out.”

“Seemed like one to me,” Dani noted as she began slicing red cabbage into thin strips. “You wouldn’t take his calls or read his letters.”

Meg put the drained macaroni into the buttered casserole and poured the cheese sauce over that. “I was just upset that summer, that’s all.”

“Meaning it was all your fault and not Luke’s?” Dani asked, suddenly acting more counselor to the hopelessly romantic and perennially unattached than the film critic she was. “Or simply that you still don’t want to talk about it?”

Leave it to Dani, a person who knew a good story when she found one, to zero in on the problem. Her shoulders stiff with building tension, Meg sprinkled the dish with bread crumbs and slid the casserole into the oven to bake. “I am not going to discuss this with you two.”

Dani and Kelsey exchanged mischievous looks. “The question is, did you discuss it with Luke?” Kelsey pressed.

“Discuss what with Luke?” Jenna asked curiously, coming in the door and glowing like the very recent bride she was.

Kelsey quickly brought their other sister up to speed on what was happening. “Meg has just informed us that the new doctor at the hospital—who just happens to have also bought the house next door—is the same Luke she knew in Chicago years ago.”

Looking lovely in a fashionable dress of her own design, Jenna quirked a red-gold brow. “Interesting.”

“Isn’t it?” Dani agreed as she put the finishing touches on the salad.

Knowing she had to nip this meddling in the bud before it got any worse, Meg made eye contact with each and every one of her three sisters. “Okay, ladies. Lay off.”

Kelsey grinned and took a long swig of the bottled water she’d brought in with her. “Ohh. Me thinks that man has gotten under her skin again.”

Meg did her best to contain a telltale flush. “Luke has done nothing of the sort,” she said firmly, looking around in vain for something else to do to prepare for the welcome-to-the-neighborhood luncheon she was having for her new neighbors. “If anyone has gotten under my skin, it is you all.”

“You sure?” Kelsey continued to tease playfully.

“What went on between us was a long time ago,” Meg said firmly, as she began counting out napkins.

“And yet, looking at the expression on your face just now,” Jenna interrupted, setting out the old-fashioned Texas sheet cake she’d brought from Isabelle’s bakery, “I’d swear it feels like it happened to you today.”

Meg counted out silverware. “Luke Carrington and I are going to be working together. We’ve got kids the same age. We are living next door to each other.”

“So?” All three of her sisters asked in unison, studying her.

“So I can’t change the reasons for the tension between us years ago,” Meg said, her exasperation growing by leaps and bounds with every new question.

“Meaning what?” Kelsey’s eyes narrowed. “That you forgive him for whatever he did?”

Meg drew a deep, bolstering breath. Forgiveness had nothing to do with it. It was self-preservation, maintaining the serenity of their lives, that was key. “Meaning I am going to let bygones be just that and treat Luke just like any other neighbor of mine. No better, no worse.” And certainly not any more intimately, Meg promised herself determinedly. Because this time she and Luke had not just themselves to think of, but also all four of their children.

SOON AFTER, John and Lilah McCabe arrived with Luke Carrington’s three little girls in tow. Like stairsteps, they were the image of their mother, Gwyneth, with blond hair, golden-brown eyes and pretty, delicate features. All three had the same haircut—silky, chin-length bobs with bangs—and were dressed in pastel shorts and matching sleeveless tops, tennis shoes and socks. As John and Lilah brought them over to Meg’s to introduce them to the children gathered on the lawn, watching the unloading of the moving van, Meg went out to join them.

“And this is Jeremy’s mom, Meg Lockhart,” Lilah said, concluding the introductions.

“Hello,” Susie, the oldest, said shyly.

“Can Jeremy and the other kids play with us sometimes at our house?” Becca asked.

“Absolutely,” Meg smiled, finding it impossible not to warm to the three adorable little girls. “And you can come over here, too, as often as you’d like.”

Amy, the youngest, smiled at Meg and the other kids, then tugged on Lilah’s hand. “Where’s my daddy?”

At the mention of the word, Jeremy frowned.

“Right there.” Lilah pointed and lifted her hand in a wave, motioning Luke over.

Jeremy gave Meg a petulant look, abruptly taking up the dispute they’d been having off and on all summer. He propped his hands on his sturdy little hips and scowled at Meg. “How come everybody else gets to know who their dad is, even if he isn’t hardly ever there no more, like with Teddy, Tyler and Trevor, and I don’t?”

Tyler, Teddy and Trevor looked at Meg, waited expectantly for her reply. As did everyone else, including Lilah McCabe, all three of Meg’s sisters and all three of Luke Carrington’s little girls. “Honey,” Meg felt herself beginning to blush self-consciously despite her desire to stay cool, calm and collected under fire, “I think we should discuss this later.”

“Why?” Jeremy shot back belligerently, his patience with Meg clearly at an end. “You always say the same thing.” He turned to Luke and the other men who had just joined the group. “Do you know who my daddy is?” Jeremy asked Luke. Ignoring the collective gasp of all the adults present, Jeremy pressed him contentiously, “Because I don’t think my mommy knows.”

Meg blushed all the more.

“Of course she does,” Luke said firmly. Then looked at Meg with all the intimacy of a once-dear friend, letting her know with a single glance that he agreed with everyone else and thought she wasn’t being fair to anyone, by keeping Jeremy’s paternity a secret.

Unfortunately, Meg knew it wasn’t that simple. Jeremy didn’t just want to find out who his father was. He wanted a daddy in his life and Meg’s. He wanted the kind of two-parent family other kids had. And while there was always a slim chance that might happen in a sort of marriage-of-convenience way, were Meg to try to get Jeremy’s father to take responsibility for their son at this point. There was also the equally strong possibility that Jeremy’s father would—once the first flush of excitement wore off—be interested in a much less taxing arrangement than what Jeremy had in mind.

Meg had seen it happen plenty of times in her years as a nurse. Fathers who were thrilled and attentive one year, too busy or just plain not interested the next and practically estranged the following year. When the romance of it all wore off, it was always the kids who suffered, who felt somehow they were to blame for the father walking away from the child they’d never planned on and the woman they had never really loved in the first place.

Meg would rather have her son do without than have his hopes raised and then crushed, his heart broken, as hers had been. She didn’t want him to think he had magically found the love he had been looking for all his life, only to see it slip away the next. As it was, Jeremy had her to rely on. She would never make him feel he was a burden or be too busy for him, never lose interest as time went on and walk away from him.

“Let’s not discuss this now, please,” Meg said.

The three sisters exchanged glances. Lilah and John McCabe looked worried, too. The kids all appeared confused. “I’m going to put the finishing touches on lunch,” Meg said, hardening her heart and letting everyone know the subject of Jeremy’s paternity was closed, just as it had always been.

THANKS TO LILAH AND JOHN MCCABE and their insistence in drafting everyone who stopped in to help Luke unpack and get his house in order, by bedtime the work was finished. There were towels in the linen closet, sheets on the beds and plenty of food and beverages stocking his pantry and fridge. The only thing that hadn’t gone quite according to plan were the sleeping arrangements. Although there were bedrooms for all, his three little girls wanted to share one room. Knowing how hard the move had been for them, Luke had put their bureaus, clothes and bookshelves in one bedroom, all their toys in another and their beds in the third so that they could sleep together in the bedroom across the hall from his. It made for a rather strange arrangement of furniture and belongings upstairs, but he figured that as time passed and they grew more comfortable in their new house, they would go back to each having her own room again. Meantime, he had three very tired little girls on his hands, Luke noted, as he tucked them into their beds. Weary as they might be, however, they still had a lot on their minds.

“You have to help Jeremy, Daddy,” Susie said.

Becca nodded. “We told him you were real good at finding things.”

Amy added, “Jeremy’s real sad because he can’t find his daddy.”

His girls looked increasingly worried as Susie explained, “He can’t find him because he doesn’t know where he is.”

Or even who he is, Luke thought, once again wishing that he were Jeremy’s father so he could quickly put everything to right for Meg and the boy.

“I am sure Jeremy and his mommy are talking about this very thing right now,” Luke said gently, doing his best to reassure his daughters the way he wished he could comfort Meg’s son. “And I’m also sure they will work everything out.” If only because Jeremy was not about to let the subject rest until they did so. “Now you girls go to sleep,” Luke said, tucking them in one by one.

“Okay, Daddy.” There were kisses and hugs all around. Then, minutes later, deep, even breathing.

With a sigh Luke headed back downstairs. He wished he could fix things for Jeremy and Meg, but the truth was, since he wasn’t Jeremy’s father after all, it wasn’t any of his business. Luke looked out the window, blinked at what he saw, then paused and blinked one more time.

Then again, maybe it was his business, Luke decided as he walked outside and confronted the person marching down the sidewalk, dragging his loaded red wagon behind him. A backpack that looked crammed to the gills, a stuffed animal, a sailboat and a toy dump truck were inside it. “Hello, Jeremy.”

Jeremy looked at Luke and, chin set stubbornly, kept right on going, pulling his little red wagon behind him.

Unable to help but admire his gumption, even if his mother clearly had no idea what he was up to, Luke fell into step beside Jeremy. “Just where do you think you’re going?”