Читать книгу Never Been Kissed - Linda Turner, Linda Turner, Marilyn Pappano - Страница 10

She didn’t slam the door, but she didn’t need to. She’d made her point, not that Reilly cared. Watching her storm out, he told himself he was lucky to be rid of her. If he was any judge of character, Janey McBride, unlike the other women who had tried to sweet talk their way into his home, wouldn’t be back. He’d hurt her pride, and as she drove away and her taillights disappeared into the darkness, he knew she was probably consigning him to the devil. And that was all right by him. He wasn’t interested in her or any other woman.

The problem was, she seemed to be the only one who’d gotten the message, he thought irritably as he shut the front door and headed for the kitchen. The others who’d come bearing gifts and a come-hither smile hadn’t been nearly as easy to discourage. Refusing to take offense at his rudeness, they’d just shrugged off his bad manners with an irritatingly forgiving laugh and promised to lighten his mood. All he had to do was give them a chance.

Sex. He hadn’t pretended to misunderstand what they were offering. That was what they wanted, how they thought they could catch him. They could pretend to themselves and everyone else that their motives were pure—they were just being friendly by welcoming the new widower to the neighborhood—but he knew a woman on the prowl when he saw one. And everyone who’d knocked on his door that evening had had that gleam in her eye that had sent alarm bells clanging in his head.

Everyone, that is, except Janey McBride.

He tried to deny that, but he couldn’t forget the look on her face when he’d told her she was wasting her time if she’d set her sights on him. She’d been shocked—there was no other way to describe it—as if the thought had never entered her head. And now that he thought of it, she hadn’t been dressed like a woman bent on seduction. Far from it, in fact. Unlike the others, who’d delivered their culinary gifts decked out in full makeup and body-hugging sweaters that were designed to make a man drop his teeth, Janey had worn faded jeans and an old college sweatshirt that still bore traces of cocoa and flour from her baking. As for makeup, her face had been bare and natural but for mascara and lip gloss.

Yeah, the lady’s really after you, Jones, a voice in his head sneered. She was decked out like a real Jezebel. It’s a wonder you were able to control yourself.

The truth hit him then like a slap in the face. Janey McBride was, in all likelihood, everything she’d appeared to be—considerate, caring, generous. The only reason she’d brought him a cake was because Dan really had asked her to be nice to him. It was something his partner would have done. And how had he responded to her kindness? By mocking her efforts and accusing her of coming on to him.

“Son of a bitch!” he groaned. How could he have been so stupid? He would have liked to use the excuse that he’d just met her and didn’t know what kind of woman she was, but anyone with eyes could see that she just wasn’t the type to blatantly chase a man. With her prim-and-proper manner, she was too old-fashioned for that. She’d wait for a man to approach her, not the other way around.

Cursing softly, he wanted to kick himself. He was an intelligent man who knew women—he should have seen the kind of woman she was from her appearance alone. Instead, he’d jumped to all the wrong conclusions and acted like a general all-round jerk—after she’d spent hours slaving over a hot stove, baking not one cake, but two for him! No wonder she’d stormed off like an insulted queen. He didn’t blame her. Just thinking about the way he’d spoken to her disgusted him. He’d been raised better than that.

There was no question that he would apologize the next time he saw her, he promised himself. He’d been wrong, and he owed her that, at the very least. He didn’t, however, regret making it clear to her that he wasn’t interested in having a relationship with anyone. The only woman he wanted was dead, and he didn’t expect to ever love anyone else again. The sooner the women of Liberty Hill knew and accepted that, the happier he’d be.

Sinking down onto the couch, he picked up the medical journal he’d been trying to read all evening, but with a will of their own his eyes kept drifting to the picture of Victoria that sat right next to him on the end table. Young and beautiful, her blond hair flowing loose around her shoulders and her green eyes impish with laughter, she smiled at him with a love that lit up her whole face.

It had been eight months since he’d seen that smile, eight months since the warmth of her love had made him feel whole. Everyone had told him that the hurt would fade with time, that the wound to his heart would scar over and eventually heal, but it hadn’t. Every time he saw her picture, every time he thought of her, he ached so badly, his very soul hurt.

Tears glinting in his eyes, he reached for her picture, just as he did every night. Because he couldn’t reach for her. He wanted to touch her, to feel her, to love her, but this was all he had left. Pictures. Things, dammit! And memories. And that wasn’t nearly enough.

Fuming all the way home, Janey wasn’t surprised to see Dan’s Suburban parked in the circular drive in front of the house. He usually dropped in several nights a week to visit with her mother, especially when Janey was out. He claimed he didn’t like the idea of Sara being alone at night, but Janey suspected he really wanted a chance to have her mother all to himself. And her mother didn’t seem to have a clue.

Another time Janey might have smiled at that. Everyone seemed to know that Dan was crazy about Sara—everyone except Sara, herself. But Janey could find no humor in the situation tonight. Not when all she could think of was Reilly Jones and how she’d like to string him up by his thumbs. Damn the man, what kind of woman did he think she was?

“Don’t answer that,” she snapped to herself as she stormed inside and slammed the door behind her. “You already know the answer to that one.”

And that was what hurt the most. She wasn’t some loose floozy who made a play for every good-looking cowboy who came along with a fat wallet. The very idea was ludicrous! Didn’t he look at her? Couldn’t he see that she was just an ordinary—

“Janey? Is that you?”

Wincing, Janey wanted to kick herself for not slipping quietly inside and making her way upstairs without anyone being the wiser. Her mother would want to know how Reilly had reacted to the cake, of course, and she didn’t want to talk about it. Not now. She wouldn’t be able to hide her anger, and that would just lead to more questions, and she really didn’t want to repeat Reilly’s outrageous accusations.

But her mother wasn’t going to let her escape upstairs without some kind of explanation, so there was no hope for it but to go in and try to put the best spin on the situation as possible. Forcing a grimace of a smile, she called back, “Yeah, Mom. I’ll be right there.”

She wasn’t much of an actress, but she thought she hid her anger well. She should have known, however, that she couldn’t fool Sara. The second she stepped into the great room and greeted her mother and Dan, who were watching their favorite detective show on TV, Sara took one look at her and immediately frowned. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said easily, hanging on to her smile for all she was worth. “I’d like to stay and talk, but it’s been a long day and I’m worn out. I think I’ll go to bed.”

She would have rushed up the stairs, but Sara stopped her before she could take a single step. “How was Reilly? Did he like the cake? What did he say?”

Another time Janey would have found a diplomatic way to answer. After all, Reilly was Dan’s partner, and she didn’t want to put Dan in the position of having to defend him. But she was still so steamed, the words just popped out. “Trust me, you don’t want to know. He was horrible.”

“What?”

“Oh, Janey!”

“I know you wanted me to be nice to him, Dan,” she told the older man, “but I just can’t. He’s rude and conceited and I wish you’d never taken him into your practice. God knows how I’m going to work with him. As far as I’m concerned, I never want to lay eyes on him again!”

“But what happened?” her mother asked, stunned by her daughter’s vehemence since she rarely lost her temper. “From what Dan said about him, he was nice but reserved. What did he do? You just took him a cake. Why would he be rude about something like that? Most men would have been thrilled to have someone cook for them.”

Janey would have preferred not to discuss it—now or ever. Just thinking about the things Reilly had said to her brought the painful sting of a blush to her cheeks. But she knew her mother and Dan. They were both as protective as mother hens, and they wouldn’t let the subject die until they had some answers.

Left with no choice, she blurted out, “He thinks I had an ulterior motive.”

“Good Lord, how? You just baked him a cake.”

“He accused me of setting my sights on him and told me I was wasting my time. He wasn’t interested.”

For a long moment there was nothing but stunned silence. Embarrassed to death, Janey couldn’t bring herself to look either her mother or Dan in the eye, so she didn’t see the surprise that flared in their eyes—or the sudden smiles they quickly bit back.

“He didn’t want to help with the decorating committee for the Christmas festival, either,” she added stiffly. “When I offered to introduce him around some other time, he made it clear that wasn’t going to happen. He was busy.”

Dan winced at that, feeling responsible. He’d only been trying to help, and instead, he’d messed up everything. “I’m so sorry, Janey,” he said gruffly. “I never meant for you to get your feelings hurt. I know he’s still grieving for his wife, but he can’t take his anger out on other people. I’ll talk to him.”

She should have let him. Every instinct she had urged her to jump at the offer. Then she wouldn’t have to deal with the oh-so-conceited Dr. Jones anymore except on a professional level. She wouldn’t have to speak to him, be nice to him, even acknowledge his existence on a personal level, and that sounded just fine with her. After the way he’d treated her, she wanted nothing to do with him ever again.

But even as she considered letting Dan fight her battles for her, she knew she couldn’t. She wasn’t the helpless female type—she never had been. Her parents had raised her and her sister, Merry, to stand on their own two feet and handle what life threw at them with confidence. She didn’t go running to her brothers or Dan or any other man when something difficult cropped up. She took care of it herself. She’d do the same with Reilly Jones.

The glint of battle lighting her brown eyes, she raised her chin a notch. “I appreciate the offer, Dan,” she replied quietly, “but I can handle Dr. Jones just fine all by myself. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go up to bed. I run rescue tomorrow night, so it’s going to be a long day. Good night.”

She turned and sailed proudly out of the room and never saw the speculative looks her mother and Dan exchanged. In the quiet left by her leavetaking, Sara arched a brow at Dan. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

He nodded, his lips twitching with wry humor. “I’ve never seen her this way before. Reilly’s definitely stirred her up.”

“And she seems to have done the same to him. But do you think that’s possible, Dan? Maybe we’re reading too much into this. After all, Reilly’s still mourning his wife. And Janey…”

She hesitated, searching for words to describe her oldest daughter. “I’ve prayed that she would meet someone someday and find happiness with a good man she could share her life with. But she never seemed to want that for herself. She’s always been so dedicated to her work. And if she ever took an interest in any of the boys she went to school with, I never knew about it. She just always seemed so content to be alone.”

“Maybe that’s because the right man hadn’t come along yet,” Dan replied.

“And you think Reilly might be that man?”

He shrugged. “It’s too soon to say. But they definitely seem to have struck sparks off each other.”

“But he’s still in love with his dead wife!”

There was, unfortunately, no denying that. “And a part of him will always love her. They obviously had a wonderful relationship, and you and I both know how hard it is to let go of something that was so perfect. But a man can only take so much loneliness before he’s forced to admit that the woman he loved is gone forever. If he doesn’t want to be miserable the rest of his life, he has to let go of the past and find someone else.”

He spoke from experience. After months of heartache and long, empty nights he’d thought would never end, he’d come to accept the fact that Peggy was never coming back. Admitting that had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. It was like losing her all over again. He’d cried for days. But then, when his tears had dried, a peace unlike anything he’d ever known before had settled over him, and he’d gradually begun to heal. He’d found himself looking forward to each new day rather than dreading it. And that’s when he’d looked up and found Sara.

Just thinking about that day he’d noticed her as a woman for the first time still brought a smile to his lips. She’d smiled at him just as she always did, and every nerve ending in his body had sat up and taken notice. It had shocked the hell out of him. Up until then she’d always just been Sara, the widow of his old friend Gus, and one of Peggy’s best friends. For years the four of them had been like family, spending holidays and special occasions together, and that hadn’t stopped with Gus’s death. Sara and the kids had still been a huge part of his and Peggy’s life, and never once had he looked at her as anything other than a friend.

Then she’d smiled at him one day, and everything changed.

He loved her. It still amazed him how much. And she didn’t have a clue. Oh, she knew he loved her as a friend, but that apparently was as far as she thought it went. She didn’t begin to suspect the depth of his feelings for her, and he didn’t know how to tell her. He loved her and needed her in his life, but he wasn’t sure if she would want anything more from him than friendship. So rather than risk losing her completely, he kept his feelings to himself and they went on as they always had.

“There is another possibility,” she said. “I’ve never known Janey not to get along with anyone before, but this could just be a case of a personality clash between the two of them. They might not be attracted to each other at all.”

“That’s true,” he agreed. “Whatever it is, I’m sure they’ll work it out. After all, it’s not like they can avoid each other. Not when they’ll be working together at the nursing home and the hospital.”

Watching Janey and Reilly come to terms with the sparks they rubbed off each other would, in fact, be damned interesting. For now, though, it was his own romance he was concerned about. “But enough about the youngsters,” he said, abruptly changing the subject. “What I want to know is when are you going to go out with me?”

It was an old joke between them, one that went back to that day when he’d first looked at her in a new light and realized that his feelings for her went much deeper than friendship. Caught up in the headiness of his newfound emotions, he’d asked her out, and she’d mistakenly thought he was joking. At the time he couldn’t blame her. She’d been spending a lot of time with him, helping him through Peggy’s death, and the town gossips had begun to wonder if they were dating. He’d suggested they go out to give the busybodies something to talk about, and she’d been joking about it ever since.

And this time was no different. Her blue eyes sparkling with merriment, she laughed gaily. “Why? Are the gossips having a slow day? Shall we give them something to talk about?”

They could give them more to talk about than she suspected, but that wasn’t something she was ready to hear. Grinning, he said easily, “I’m game if you are. There’s nothing I like better than setting the phone lines buzzing.”

He wouldn’t have given a damn about the phone lines if she’d said yes, but she didn’t. Still thinking he was teasing, she chuckled. “Maybe next time.”

It was that thought that got him through the long, lonely nights. The only problem was next time never seemed to come.

When the alarm went off the next morning, Janey felt as if she hadn’t slept a wink. Every time she’d closed her eyes during the night, she’d seen nothing but Reilly Jones and the coldness in his eyes when he’d told her he wasn’t interested in her. When she’d finally fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion, the infuriating man had followed her into her dreams.

Cursing him, she rolled out of bed with a groan and hoped she wouldn’t have the misfortune to run into the irritating Dr. Jones today. Because if she did, she promised herself as she changed into her nurse’s uniform and left for work, she just might tell him what she thought of him. It was no more than he deserved.

Her chin set at a determined angle, she marched into the nursing home a few minutes before seven with a look in her eye that had her co-workers lifting their brows in surprise. She never came to work with an attitude, and more than a few of her fellow nurses didn’t know what to make of it.

“Are you okay, Janey?”

“Has something happened to your mom?”

“It’s not Merry and the baby, is it? When is she due?”

Realizing she must look awful, Janey shook her head, her smile more than a little forced. “Merry’s due Christmas Day. And no, nothing’s wrong. I just didn’t get much sleep last night. I couldn’t seem to turn my brain off.”

That wasn’t the complete truth, but she had no intention of sharing her experience with Dr. Jones with the entire nursing home staff. And that’s what would happen if she made the mistake of telling so much as a single soul. The story would spread like wildfire through every room in the nursing home within an hour.

There was, fortunately, no time for anyone to ask her what she’d been thinking about that had kept her up all night. It was time for her shift to start, and she had work to do. Sending up a silent prayer of thanks, she headed for the east wing nurses’ station and began the day just as she always did—by reading her patients’ charts to see if there’d been any change in their conditions since yesterday.

She was well into the first chart and wondering if Mr. Drisco needed his medication changed when Cybil Greer, one of the night shift nurses, stopped to talk to her. “I guess you heard about Hannah.”

There was only one woman there by the name of Hannah, and she was not only Janey’s patient, but one of her favorite people. And she hadn’t been doing well lately. Alarmed, she said, “What’s wrong?”

“She’s developed pneumonia,” Cybil said grimly. “It doesn’t look good.”

Already rising to her feet, Janey said, “Thanks for telling me. I’ll check on her right now.”

Hannah Starks wasn’t the oldest patient on Janey’s floor, but she’d been there the longest, and there was just something about her that touched Janey’s heart. Small and frail, with eyes that still sparkled like a girl’s, she, like so many of the other women in the nursing home, had lost her husband years ago and now had to depend on the mercy of strangers to get her through the day. And she did it all without complaint.

If she’d been in her shoes, Janey wasn’t sure she could have been as gracious. It wasn’t as if Hannah had no one to care for her. She had a son—William—who lived in Seattle, and Hannah adored him. If William’s love was as strong as his mother’s, he gave no sign of it. Over the course of the last year, he hadn’t been to see his mother a single time. Both Dan and Janey had both talked to him on several occasions, telling him how desperately his mother wanted to see him, but he still hadn’t come. And poor Hannah kept making excuses for him.

Her heart breaking for her, Janey wasn’t surprised to find her frailer than yesterday. At eighty-two, she was as thin as a rail and had little strength to fall back on when she became ill. Still, she smiled at the sight of Janey and struggled to sit up.

“No, you don’t need to get up!” she said quickly, hurrying across the room to help ease her back against her pillow. “You lie there and take it easy. I heard you weren’t feeling up to snuff this morning. Can I get you anything? Breakfast, maybe? Scrambled eggs? Or how about some pancakes? You name it, and I’ll get it for you.”

If she’d said eggs Benedict, Janey would have called Ed’s diner and asked Ed to make the special dish for her, but Hannah had simple tastes and there was only one thing in life that she really wanted. Pale as the bedsheets, she smiled and shook her head. “No, thank you, dear. I’m not really hungry this morning. But I would like to see William. Once he hears that I need him, I’m sure he’ll come.”

Her faith was unshakable, the love in her eyes heartbreaking to see as she lifted her gaze to the wall across from her bed. There, family photos covered nearly every available space. Some of the pictures were of Hannah’s parents and husband, all of whom had died years ago, but the majority were of her only child, William. Taken at all stages of life, there were pictures of him at two and eight and forty-two, with his first dog, his first girlfriend, his first wife.