Читать книгу Courting His Favourite Nurse - Lynne Marshall - Страница 9

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 breaks.”

“Sounds good.”

He led the way to their favorite trailhead, and they set off.

An hour and minimal conversations later, they’d hiked to the top of Boulder Peak. He’d purposely held back and let nature do the job of loosening up Anne.

From this vantage point, to the east, he could see the overly developed valley suburbs of Los Angeles; to the west, the bedroom community roofs hugging the surrounding foothills. Thanks to some recent rain, there were tufts of green between the boulders. This was the view he’d longed for. This was the special place he, Brianna and Anne had often hiked to.

“I’d forgotten how gorgeous it is up here,” Anne said, showing the first signs of her old self, her hair floating on the breeze and covering her cheeks.

She came and stood by him and together they revered the panoramic view for several more seconds. It was clear enough to see sparkles from the ocean far in the distance. This gave him the opportunity to smell her flowery soap or body lotion or whatever it was. All he knew was that he liked it, and he liked having her near.

Jack hated feeling like Anne was a stranger, and so far she hadn’t made things easy, so on a whim he grabbed her hand. “Hey, I want to show you something.” He tugged her toward another outcropping and around its corner. His eyes scanned the surface of the rock wall until he found it. He used his palm to rub away dust and debris. “Look,” he said, pointing to a fading circle with three sets of initials inside—his, Brianna’s and Anne’s, and below in tiny letters, BFF. Best friends forever.

“I make a point to come up here once in a while, and I found this last year.” He stood smiling at the names, completely aware how close by Anne was.

“She had a great smile, didn’t she?” Anne removed her sunglasses so she could wipe her brightening eyes.

“She did,” he said, flushed with mixed-up feelings about the woman standing next to him fighting off tears.

“I think it’s great that you come here. She deserves not to be forgotten, you know?”

His throat tightened. “I don’t get the same feeling when I visit her grave. It’s just a plot. But here, we have memories, don’t we?” He didn’t want to come off foolish, not after all these years. Not to Anne. So he swallowed against the emotion balling in his chest. God, he’d made a mess of things back then, but how could he have known what was about to happen to Brianna?

The sun made Anne’s eyes glisten as she looked on the verge of crying. This wasn’t what he’d intended, he didn’t want to wallow in sadness, not with Anne. They’d already lived through enough of that for a lifetime, and right now a change in mood was in order. “For being such a great cheerleader, she sure was a klutz, wasn’t she?”

Anne blurted out a laugh and it brought a rush of relief. “Remember the time she got so excited cheering you on at league finals that she fell over the railing?”

The snapshot in time, so clear of him sprinting for the finish line, seeing Bri jumping and screaming then flipping over the bar and landing on her butt right on the track, made him bark a laugh. Anne joined him as the welcomed laughter broke down another barrier between him and his old friend.

He tossed her a bottle of water and opened one for himself. They drank and smiled at each other, the first genuine smile of the day. It felt great.

“Remember the cave?”

She nodded, leading the way to their favorite hiding place. Fifteen minutes later, on another peak with an equally gorgeous view, they entered the shallow cave. Sheltered from the sun and constant wind, he sat on a rock with his feet propped on another. She sat across from him on another outcrop, and he tossed her a granola bar.

“How do you like teaching?” she asked.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I really like it.”

“When did you go back to school?”

“Long story.”

“I’m interested. Tell me,” she said taking a bite.

He wasn’t about to shut her down after it had taken so long to get her to loosen up. Maybe if he went first, she’d tell him something about herself.

“Okay, then. First, I kicked around Europe for a while. I found jobs where people paid me under the table, then I hired on as a deckhand on an American yacht in Italy and sailed around the Mediterranean and wound up in Greece but I couldn’t find any work, and I couldn’t speak the language, so when my money ran out, I had to come home.” He chewed the last of his granola bar. “My dad wouldn’t let me freeload, so I got a job at Starbucks and went to school to become an EMT.”

“You were a barista?”

“A damn good one, too. Remind me, and I’ll make you a mocha cappuccino sometime.”

She gave a smile that took him right back to high school, a smile that included a taste of challenge. He’d missed that look more than he’d realized.

He got out an apple, rubbed it on his shirt and took a bite. As an afterthought, he held up the second apple for Anne’s inspection. She cupped her hands so he tossed it to her, and she bit right in.

“Go on,” she said, her mouth full of apple.

“Hitting the books put the bug in me to go back to school, and while I worked as an EMT in the day I went to night school at Marshfield City College.” He took another bite of apple and swig of water. “Long story short, I transferred to CSUCI the first year it opened. We called it sushi back then. Anyway, I got my teaching credential four years later. I lucked into a job at WO High a couple years ago. Had a horrendous commute to West L.A. before that.”

“That’s great, Jack.” Anne looked genuinely interested, and he figured he’d ride the crest of his opening up in hopes of getting her to talk.

“So how do you really like living in Portland?”

She smiled at his obvious swipe at her earlier tightlipped response. “I love it. It’s a gorgeous city. Very eco-friendly. Warm dry summers and rainy winters. Clean air.”

She handed him her apple core and he put it inside a plastic baggie along with his own. “What about your job?”

“It’s great. I just started a new job last month as the lead nurse for fourteen doctors in a clinic practice. It’s very different from hospital work, part administrative and part hands-on medicine, but overall a lot less stressful.” She grew pensive and he worried she’d shut down again. “Lately, I’ve been thinking of going back to school.”

“For what?”

She avoided his laser stare and fiddled with a tiny yellow flower on a tall mustard weed. “I don’t know, I’m still thinking about it.”

She hadn’t really opened up about anything, so he thought he’d take a circular route to getting to what he was most curious about. “Do you have a roommate?”

She shook her head, still engrossed with the flower. “I lease a tiny apartment in the Pearl District. It’s a great area, loads of things to do, and I can walk almost everywhere. It’s fairly close to my job, too.”

Maybe she really was happy there. From the glint in her eyes as she went on about her neighborhood, he sensed she’d found a home for good. The realization sat like a boulder in his apple-filled stomach. Hadn’t the last thing he’d said to her before she had left Whispering Oaks been something like, moving on doesn’t necessarily mean you’re moving forward. It hadn’t been the case for him, but for her maybe it had. An aching sense of loss made him blurt out the next question.

“You seeing anyone?”

Her brows lifted then drew together. She stared at her knees. “Uh, no.” The twist to her lips could only be described as a smirk. “Not this year, anyway.”

On a breath of air, he relaxed. “I hear ya,” he said with a mixed rush of relief and possibilities. “I’ve resorted to computer dating, myself.”

Her interest piqued, she slanted a sideways glance his way. “How’s that working for you?”

He shrugged. “Let’s just say, I’m not sure dating should be a science.”

That got a laugh out of her, and he decided to not try to explain how something was always missing, though on paper he and his computer dates had seemed well matched. He couldn’t figure out a lot of things these days, like the heightened desire to find a compatible partner, and the constant disappointment with his dates. “What do you say we take the dome?”

“Today?”

“It’s only ten. We can head up there and eat lunch then I promise to take you right home.”

She flashed her signature challenging look. “I’ll race you to the top!” And she was off before he could get his backpack over his shoulders.

“That’s not fair, speedy!” He resorted to taunting her with the nickname he’d given her in high school for always finishing last in the 800M race. She laughed and her feet stuttered on loose gravel. Anne grabbed a root sticking out of a rock to steady her and glared over her shoulder. It wasn’t a real glare, but one of Anne’s pretend angry looks, and it took him right back to high school and that girl he used to know. Now he was getting somewhere.

The drive home was companionably quiet. Anne couldn’t help but think Jack had something else he wanted to say. The muscle worked at the corner of his jaw, his hand gripped the steering wheel harder than necessary. Why did she have the compulsion to run her fingers through the close cropped dark blond waves on his head? Instead, she sighed and looked out the passenger window.

When he pulled into her driveway, he threw the car into Park and turned toward her. “You remember Drew?”

She nodded. Drew had been Jack’s best friend in high school. Evidently they were still close.

“He’s got his own hot air balloon company right over in Marshfield. I used to work for him on weekends and during the summers when I went to CSUCI. Why don’t you let me take you up for a ride next Saturday? You can’t say you’ve really seen Whispering Oaks until you’ve seen it from the air.”

She ignored the charming glint in those fern green eyes.

The thought of floating in the air hanging in a basket with Jack had its merits, but last night, when she couldn’t fall asleep, she’d promised not to fall back into their old pattern of being the odd man out with Brianna at the center. And a lot of today had been about Bri. Of course Brianna deserved it, and it was a good starting off place for her and Jack to try to sort things out from before, but everything still seemed so confusing. And how much guilt could she take with Brianna’s memory breathing over her shoulder reminding her how she’d betrayed her best friend by loving Jack, by stealing his attention when Brianna was getting sick and no one even knew it.

I think Jack likes someone else, she’d told Anne over the phone the week before the diagnosis.

If she was still this messed up over their situation, how must Jack feel?

Anne glanced at Jack and got the distinct impression he needed to spend time with her. She’d worked with grieving families as a nurse, and recognized his need for closure. And God only knew how much needed to be closed, but didn’t she have enough on her plate with her mom and dad? And, really, what was the point? They weren’t involved in each other’s lives anymore.

“Jack, it’s been great seeing you again. I really enjoyed the hike today, but I’m here to take care of my parents. I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.”

He didn’t try to hide his disappointment. “You? Afraid?”

“What?”

“You said, ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to pass’ but what I heard was ‘I’m afraid’. You’ve never been afraid of anything, Anne.”

She tossed him a disbelieving glance. “You sure we’re talking about the same person?”

He shrugged. “That’s how I’ve always seen it.”

Was that a challenge in his eyes? Was it finally time to see if those embers of interest were still ignitable? Maybe where Jack was concerned she was afraid, and she definitely didn’t want to deal with these mixed-up guilty thoughts. Not now. Not under these circumstances. He’d put her through hell. She’d left town because of him—well that and college. And hadn’t she seen him with another woman last night, computer date or not! Why set herself up for more heartache? Besides, once Lucas got home, she was leaving. Again. She had moved on.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’ve got to go inside,” she said as she opened the car door.

“You’ll burn out if you’re not careful.” He wasn’t making it easy, but she closed the door anyway. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

She bent and ducked her head through the window. “Okay. But Jack? You’ve got to understand that I can’t be your buddy anymore.”

She bit her bottom lip. Jack used to like her straight-arrow honesty, but from the thoughtful, almost hurt expression on his face, she knew she’d gone too far. Too late. She couldn’t take back what she’d already said, and it was how she felt.

“That’s not what I’m asking,” he said, brows low, eyes crinkled and staring at the steering wheel.

“Sorry.” She didn’t give him the chance to explain further as she strode up the walkway to her front door and let herself in.

I can’t be your buddy because it hurts too damn much.

Sunday, Anne and Beverly got confirmation that Kieran would indeed be discharged on Monday. When Anne questioned being able to fit Dad into the family compact sedan, she’d been assured by her father that the transportation home had been prearranged.

Monday afternoon an ancient yet familiar beat-up blue van pulled into the driveway, and once again, in her own home, Anne felt conspired against. She rolled the wheelchair to the sliding door where her father smiled, casted leg extended from one captain seat to the other in the huge belly of the vehicle. Jack sat behind the wheel with a tentative look on his face. It was the first time she’d seen him since she’d slammed him about trying to pick up where they’d left off. At least he didn’t look like he hated her.

She nodded at him. He lifted a hand as a wave. “Hold on a minute, let me help,” he said, hopping out the door and rounding the van.

Beverly stood behind Anne waving at her husband. “Welcome home, sweetie.”

“It’s great to be back, babe!”

“I’ll take care of this,” Jack said, as Anne pushed the wheelchair right to the side of the car. “We worked everything out at the hospital when we loaded him up.”

Several minutes passed as Jack and her dad played the maxi-van version of Twister, but emerged with Dad tottering on crutches just long enough to hop to the wheelchair.

Thinking in advance, Anne had put a sturdy slab of plywood over the two inch step-up through the kitchen door. With arm muscles tight and bulging, Jack pushed the two hundred pounds of her father, plus full leg cast, as if they weighed no more than a Hello Kitty stroller.

Anne tried her best not to watch, but gave in at the first glimpse of his deltoids.

Once inside, Beverly hugged Kieran, smiling until her eyes disappeared. He kissed her on the cheek since she was still smiling. “It’s great to be home,” he said.

Bart was beside himself with his favorite person back from “gone,” and high stepped and whined for attention. “There’s my boy,” Kieran said, kissing the dog’s nose and rubbing his ears. If dogs could smile, Bart was.

“Where should I put him?” Jack asked.

“Over here.” Beverly pointed the way to the family room and Jack steered past.

Anne brought in the crutches left leaning against the van, anything to distance herself from Jack and his invasion of her family. When she stepped back into the kitchen, she heard her father ask his favorite question. “What’s to eat? Do you have any idea how bad hospital food is?”

Anne opened the refrigerator and got out the pound of deli turkey and horseradish cheddar cheese slices she’d bought in anticipation of her father’s homecoming. She’d keep herself busy and let her parents occupy Jack.

She brought the tray of sandwiches to the family room and everyone dug in. Kieran was so happy to be home he tossed a half sandwich to Bart who caught it in midair and swallowed without nearly enough chewing.

Throughout all the activity and chatting, Anne caught glimpses of Jack stealing looks at her. Why did she give him the power to make her nervous? And each time she’d make a sorry attempt at a smile, he did the same. Yet when he left, all he did was wave goodbye. Maybe she’d gotten through to him.

Kieran insisted Jack return the next day after school to help him wash up, refusing to let his daughter, the nurse who’d seen everything, assist.

Once again faced with Jack, looking fit in well-worn jeans and a T-shirt, her palms tingled, there were tickles behind her knees and a flutter in her chest. She fought off the reactions by pretending to be engrossed in cutting the left leg out of two pairs of sweatpants for her father, and sent Jack down the hall to her father’s bedroom. It didn’t work. All the way from the family room, she strained to eavesdrop on their conversation over the sound of the running shower, and almost shushed her mother when she insisted on talking.

“Should we ask Jack to stay for dinner?” Beverly asked while attempting to stick a ruler under her cast.

“Mom, stop that. You can get an infection. And no, I was only planning on soup and sandwiches, and I’m sure Jack has other plans.”

“He’s been a lifesaver.”

“And what have I been, Mom?” Feeling overlooked again, Anne made a point of being in the laundry room when Jack left.

Being a twenty-four-hour on-call nurse had nearly wiped out Anne, both physically and mentally. Not that her parents were demanding, but dealing with their dueling casts and cooking—something she loathed but did because her parents wouldn’t tolerate frozen food—had all taken its toll. She counted the days until Lucas’s return.

Thursday, the laundry got interrupted with a shout.

“Annie belle!” her father’s booming but muffled voice called from down the hall.

She rushed to his aid but the door wouldn’t open. “Don’t come in,” her mother said from the other side. Bart paced with concern outside.

Once again, modesty kept father from allowing daughter to help. Not that she could have anyway, without straining her back. “Then why call me?”

“Let me get something to cover him, then you can go in.”

Kieran had gotten the bright idea to take a bath with his leg propped up on the side of the tub. He’d log-rolled into the extra long master bath tub using his upper body strength and sheer will, with Beverly, the enabler, on standby. Mom had turned on the water. All had gone well until it was time to get out of the tub.