Книга - Sweet On Peggy

Sweet On Peggy
Stella MacLean


Risking it all for loveShe doesn’t believe in love at first sight. But Rory MacPherson could change Peggy's mind. The instant spark between them is undeniable. He’s funny, charming and a single touch from him makes her weak in the knees. But Rory’s humanitarian aid work in Haiti has taught him to live life to the fullest, his impulsive nature at odds with the stability Peggy loves in Eden Harbor. Having an outlook like Rory’s seems impossible, especially when she’s confronted with her past. But so does letting go of the perfect man…







Risking it all for love

She doesn’t believe in love at first sight. But Rory MacPherson could change Peggy’s mind. The instant spark between them is undeniable. He’s funny, charming and a single touch from him makes her weak in the knees. But Rory’s humanitarian aid work in Haiti has taught him to live life to the fullest, and his impulsive nature is at odds with the stability Peggy loves in Eden Harbor. When Peggy’s confronted with her past, having an outlook like Rory’s seems impossible. But so does letting go of the perfect man...


Rory blinked.

When he opened his eyes again, the woman was watching him with the brownest eyes he’d ever seen. Her face was alight with interest and awareness.

In that instant he felt a connection he’d never ever experienced. Did he know her? Did she know him? It was as if they’d met before, but he was pretty sure they hadn’t. He would have remembered this woman. She was unforgettable.

He stood there feeling like an idiot. Yet he couldn’t seem to move, to break the connection. He wanted to go to her, take her hands and simply be with her.

How nuts was that?


Dear Reader (#ulink_2edd5085-facf-5bc8-9ce3-939e8ef04036),

My first goal in writing this book was to start the story in the point of view of a young man who had, without intention or expectation, fallen in love with a woman he’d never met before in his life.

His story mirrors my own love story. That is, the story of meeting someone and knowing in that instant that the person standing so close to me was the one.

We all go through our lives waiting and hoping that the one person who completes us, who makes us feel special and who makes us laugh, will appear. Sometimes that person is a complete stranger. Other times that person has been part of our lives for a very long time. Whether it’s love at first sight or a love that grows over time, Sweet on Peggy is about fulfilling the dream of finding that one special person.

This story is my gift to all of you who don’t believe in love at first sight, who can’t imagine simply meeting someone and knowing in that instant the possibilities offered by love. Please enjoy Peggy and Rory’s journey to happiness.

One of the great delights in my life is hearing from my readers. Please email me at stella@stellamaclean.com, or visit my website, stellamaclean.com (http://www.stellamaclean.com).

Happy reading,

Stella


Sweet on Peggy

Stella MacLean






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


STELLA MacLEAN is a multipublished Harlequin author whose passion is writing. She takes great delight in creating characters with warmth and understanding and who are open to finding love. The Life in Eden Harbor series has been one of the most rewarding writing experiences of Stella’s life, as it gave her the opportunity to develop and expand the characters as they move through each of the three books in the series. Contact her at stella@stellamaclean.com, and check out her website, stellamaclean.com (http://www.stellamaclean.com).


This book is dedicated to the friends in our lives who are there for us, who never lose sight of the fact that we are human beings first—mothers, wives, grandmothers or spouses second. Our lives are richer and more complete because of them.


Contents

Cover (#uc3f88358-5ede-538c-b605-27b2cd74050b)

Back Cover Text (#u97aeec9f-e850-5cc3-a95a-075129516c91)

Introduction (#u2b295345-d0a1-56a8-96b9-d07ce0ca3c4c)

Dear Reader (#u86db83ba-9108-5660-9ab6-902fb8ff1a1c)

Title Page (#u54f34964-945a-5038-8939-e28d69c703c9)

About the Author (#u81861f94-58cc-5389-99d9-a4d1d7d226f6)

Dedication (#ucd7016c9-5883-5bbc-8ee6-c4df199ffdec)

CHAPTER ONE (#uc10c2d50-1446-5766-a7f0-a7f42dde3fa0)

CHAPTER TWO (#ueb2f0e7a-3025-5a13-bf2e-e48224135ccc)

CHAPTER THREE (#u9e032bec-6b7d-5d97-8171-a810832d63ac)

CHAPTER FOUR (#ud618f7af-f0bf-5875-a5d9-221b95461ed5)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_ec74ad22-1df4-52fa-8741-d62e37e56676)

RORY MACPHERSON WANTED to yell out in pain...if he didn’t faint first. Dr. Brandon had been meticulously putting stitches into his forearm and was now cleaning up the blood from around the wound. Rory didn’t want to admit how much it hurt. Wimping out would hardly endear him to the people of Eden Harbor, a small, tight-knit community on the coast of Maine.

“There.” The doctor stripped off his gloves and dropped them on the table next to the stretcher where Rory sat. “All you need is a dressing and a tetanus shot, and then I’d like you to have some routine blood work done. The nurse will give you instructions on where to go for that.”

“A what?” Rory asked. Feeling anxious, he glanced from Dr. Brandon to the nurse.

“The nurse will explain everything,” Dr. Brandon said, his glance swerving to the digital clock on the wall. “I have to go. The nurse will give you an appointment to see me back here in two days. I’ll check your arm, see how it’s doing. Using an electric saw can be dangerous. You were lucky.”

Rory didn’t want to know any more than he had to. Medical things weren’t his strong suit. He’d discovered that about himself when he was ten and fell out of a tree, breaking his leg, requiring surgery, bandages and, of course, needles. He figured he wouldn’t have to deal with that stuff anymore until he went to volunteer in Haiti for two years as a carpenter. There, he saw men working with him experience serious injuries. “Thanks, doc,” Rory said, alarmed at how weak his voice sounded.

The nurse applied a dressing then picked up a syringe from the tray.

“Is that needle for me?”

“Yes. It’s a tetanus shot.”

“Where are you going to put it?” he asked, holding his injured arm close to his chest.

“Can you roll up the sleeve on your other arm?”

“Sure, I guess so,” Rory said, complying with her request. He looked away as she gave the shot.

“Okay, here’s your requisition. The phlebotomy clinic is just down the hall to your right. Once you’ve had your blood taken you can go.” She passed him the slip of paper, a smile dimpling her cheeks.

Rory stood. Yep, his legs were holding. He took a deep breath.

“Remember to keep your arm up as much as possible and keep your bandage clean until the doctor sees you again.”

Would this injury affect his ability to do his job as a carpenter? He hoped not. “Thank you.” Rory made his way out of the room, the requisition in his good hand, his pride intact.

He reached the entrance to the clinic and approached the desk. There was no one there. He was about to sit down and wait when he heard voices from a room just beyond the desk.

He approached the door. Just as he did he heard a child’s anxious voice telling someone he didn’t want a needle. A child after his own heart, he thought, risking a glance into the room. A woman knelt in front of the boy, who was huddled on his mother’s lap. The woman dressed in pink scrubs touched the little boy’s arm, her voice so soothing he wanted to keep standing there and be soothed a little himself. It had been a rough day, made worse when he’d let his attention slip and cut his arm on the saw he’d been using to fix a client’s back steps.

The woman was speaking softly to the child. Slowly the little boy held out his arm and let her put the needle in. Rory blinked to block the sight. When he opened his eyes again, the woman was watching him with the brownest eyes he’d ever seen. Her face was alight with interest and awareness.

In that instant he felt a connection he’d never ever experienced. Did he know her? Did she know him? It was as if they’d met before, but he was pretty sure they hadn’t. He would have remembered this woman. She was totally unforgettable.

He stood there feeling a bit like an idiot. Yet he couldn’t seem to move, to break the connection. He wanted to go to her, take her hands and simply be with her. How nuts was that? He’d never felt that way before about any woman. Even though there’d been many opportunities to hook up, this was different. Maybe it had something to do with the tetanus shot.

“Are you here to have your blood taken?” she asked, returning her attention to the child and his mother.

Suddenly the room around him seemed less welcoming. “I am.”

“If you’d like to take a seat in the waiting area in front of the desk—” her gaze returned to him, one eyebrow raised in question “—I’ll be there as soon as I finish here.”

“Sure,” he said, aware of how the single pearl on the end of a gold chain she wore nestled into the V of her throat. Imagining what her skin would feel like under his fingers, how her heart would pound to his touch, made his blood run hot.

More like how his heart would pound when she put the needle into his arm.

Feeling awkward and a little strange, he went back and sat down. He struggled to divert his thoughts away from her and how she made him feel, focusing instead on a flu shot poster.

In a few minutes, the woman came out with the mother and her son. Rory watched as she walked with them to the entrance, still speaking in soothing tones. He couldn’t help but notice how her top fit her body, how the loose fit of the pants couldn’t completely hide the smooth thighs beneath the fabric.

She didn’t glance at him as she went to her desk, and he felt...deprived, left out of some special secret. He followed her, resting his good arm on the raised counter.

She sat down at the computer and tapped a couple of keys. She turned her full attention to him, her eyes focused on his. Suddenly he couldn’t remember what he was doing here. Think!

“Do you have a requisition you’d like to give me?” she asked, a tiny smile tilting one corner of her lips, the corner where she had a small beauty spot he noted despite his state of confusion.

What was happening? He felt so...so something. Was this how love felt? So hot? So weird? He’d never felt this way before, but that didn’t mean it was love. He hadn’t been in a relationship for a long while, hadn’t felt anything for anyone since his return from Haiti—until this moment. That had to be what was going on here. He needed to get back into the dating game, back to his old life of enjoying every opportunity to meet a woman. And this was the perfect moment. “Yes.” He rushed the word. “Right here.” He passed the requisition to her, nearly hitting her in the face in his eagerness to comply with her request.

She looked it over, keyed in the information and placed the requisition on the top of a pile already on her desk. Behind her a printer groaned to life, disgorging a narrow strip of paper. She tore it off and stood up. “Please follow me,” she said with a backward glance over her shoulder, that smile making him feel like a fifth grader.

Rory followed her, all the while his mind going over the possibilities. She wasn’t wearing a wedding band, and her name tag said her first name was Peggy. He sat down in the chair she pointed to, resting his injured arm on the armrest while he watched her efficient movements. So efficient, in fact, that she was suddenly standing beside him with a bunch of tubes and a needle.

“Hold out your right arm, please,” she said, whipping a tourniquet from her pocket as she laid the other supplies on a steel tray next to his chair.

The scent of her hair, the gentleness of her touch distracted him so much he nearly missed what she’d said. Hastily, he straightened out his arm. She swabbed the bend in his elbow. She pressed her fingers into the space she’d swabbed, holding her needle angled toward his arm. “Make a fist.”

Oh, no. His stomach rolled. He gasped.

She stopped, the needle poised over his arm. “Are you all right?”

He sucked in a chest full of air. When was he going to outgrow this childish fear of needles?

It’s now or never unless you want this gorgeous woman to know you’re a complete wimp. “Yes. Of course.” He made a fist.

She bent her head in concentration. Her presence filled his senses. He wanted to reach out with his injured arm and stroke her short-cropped brown hair, run his fingers along her neck...

“Just a little pinprick.” The needle entered his arm.

He watched in nervous fascination as she put each of the tubes into the sleeve attached to the needle, watching in horror as the blood flowed in.

“Open your fist,” she said as she continued to withdraw his blood.

Hell, what had the doc ordered? He gritted his teeth to keep from asking what all the blood was for. He didn’t want to know. All he wanted right now was to be done with it.

“There. You can release your grip on the arm of the chair. Wouldn’t want you destroying hospital property, would we?” she asked, a quirky grin on her face as she pulled the needle out of his arm and put pressure on the spot. “Keep your arm up for ten minutes. Do you want me to put tape on it?”

He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her—her hair, the skin at her neck, her scent, all flowery...warm... He met her questioning look.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.

“Me? Yeah, sure,” he said.

“Well, then, do you want me to put tape over the gauze dressing on your arm?” she asked, a look of bemusement on her beautiful face.

“No. Yeah. Maybe you’d better. I have to get back to work.”

* * *

SHE HAD SEEN the expression on his face as she’d drawn the blood. Rory MacPherson was nervous. A grown man who was afraid of needles. Peggy Anderson had met a few of them before, but none as handsome as this one. His smile surrounded her like a gentle breeze, making her hesitate before taking the blood samples from the tray beside him. His address was one of the few apartment buildings in Eden Harbor, on Salem Street. Most people planning to stay in Eden Harbor bought a house, as houses were easily available with so many people moving away to other parts of the country to find jobs.

He was about to get out of the chair and leave. Eden Harbor didn’t have many young, single and gorgeous men. “Where do you work?” She’d never seen him before, and she knew most of the locals because sooner or later they ended up in here getting blood drawn.

He eased back into the chair and met her inquiring gaze. “I’m a carpenter. I work for myself. I hurt my arm running a saw. Just a nick, though, so that’s good.”

His eyes were fascinating, and very, very blue; his smile intrigued her. He didn’t wear a wedding ring, but that was no guarantee that he was unattached. She’d made that mistake once before and had paid the price in total embarrassment tokens, her measure of yet another unsuccessful attempt at meeting a man.

“How long have you been in Eden Harbor?” she asked as she took his blood samples to the counter behind her, placing each in their appropriate slots on the tray.

“Not long. In fact, I’m just getting my business under way. I’ve met some pretty wonderful people here.”

She turned around to find his gaze openly moving over her. She’d grown accustomed to that look and ignored it. Men were shoppers, and window-shopping was their entry point in getting to know the merchandise, or so one of her ex-boyfriends had said.

“I...I’d better get back to work,” he said, getting to his feet. “Thanks for being so gentle. I’m not good at getting my blood taken.” He stood up, hugging his injured arm to his chest. She had to admit he was truly tall, truly handsome and almost certainly unavailable.

Yet his gaze held hers in a way that made her feel so totally connected, as if she was the only thought on his mind. In her experience, most men didn’t spend a lot of time looking at her face in favor of some other part of her anatomy. “Being gentle is part of my job.”

“I’m afraid of needles. That’s the very first time I didn’t feel like I was going to faint. Like a tree falling over.” He swung his uninjured arm in a wide arc. “I usually sit for a while. To cover my embarrassment I make conversation with the tech taking my blood.”

“Is that what you were doing with me?”

“No! No. I wanted to talk with you. I mean really talk.”

“About what?”

“About maybe you and I going out somewhere. Nothing serious. Just coffee. I don’t know many people in Eden Harbor, and you could introduce me around,” he said, his smile totally disarming.

“To somebody more interesting, you mean?” Well, at least he didn’t pretend he wanted to date her.

He rubbed his face with his free hand. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out. I...I’d like you and I to get to know each other, maybe be friends.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his discomfort. It was so endearing. “Are you this smooth with all the women you meet?”

“Didn’t know I was being smooth. Thought I was just being honest.”

The last man pretending to be honest had talked her into paying his bill for fixing his car. Not one penny of which she’d gotten back.

He hugged his injured arm to his chest as he stared down into her face, his smile so exciting it made her wish she wasn’t so distrustful of men.

“Okay, so I’ll take your silence as a no,” he said as he moved toward the door. “Thank you.”

The way his jeans hugged his butt made her rethink her position. Eden Harbor was hardly crawling with eligible men. Her nightlife consisted of going to the pub with friends once a week and playing volleyball with the local women every Wednesday night. And what harm could there be in having coffee with this man whose fear of needles warmed her heart, whose blue eyes were so engaging? “Wait. Sure. Coffee would be great.”

“Where?”

“The Big Mug on Market Street?” She glanced at her watch. “Meet me around four?”

His blue eyes seemed bluer. The quick frown creasing his brow turned into a grin. “Today?”

“Yes.”

“I know the place. I did a reno there a couple of weeks ago. See you at four. Your name tag says Peggy. What’s your last name?” he asked, his voice eager, his eyes on her.

She wanted to laugh at the way he seemed almost inept around her. Most men were busy trying to put the moves on her, but Rory was...sweet. She touched her name tag. “Anderson. Peggy Anderson.”

“Great! Good name!”

* * *

RORY DROVE TO his worksite, a deck he was putting on the back of a house outside town, where he had his accident. He hoped that having to protect his hand wouldn’t slow him down. He had a list of clients waiting for his services. Thankfully, it was his left arm that was injured and not his right, but even so, it might make working difficult.

He reached Ned Tompkins’s yard and got back to work. As he hammered the nails into the deck, his thoughts were solely on Peggy and what an idiot he’d made of himself. He’d practically bolted from the room. It wasn’t really a date, he reminded himself, but still it was as close as he’d come to one since he moved to Eden Harbor two months ago. He’d gone to the local pub downtown a couple of times, but the only women there were either with men or clustered in groups, whispering and giggling among themselves.

Blame it on Haiti, but what he was looking for in a woman had changed after living there. He wasn’t interested in frivolous women, in dates consisting of expensive dinners and empty conversation or worse—online dating. He wanted to really connect with a woman who loved her work and who believed she made a difference in people’s lives. Because of Haiti, he wanted to make a difference no matter where he ended up living. Maybe he wouldn’t stay in Eden Harbor. Maybe he’d go back to Haiti for another two years. Whatever lay ahead for him, he wanted to be open to it. Life was about living in the here and now.

He had no idea what Peggy wanted out of life, but he sure would like to get to know her better. He checked to make sure he had his cell phone on him. He’d have to keep track of the time so as not to be late for his coffee break with her.

In Haiti he’d grown accustomed to working until the labor and the heat exhausted him and then eating with his friends and falling into bed.

He continued to work on the deck, skipping lunch in order to get the first parts completed. Ned Tompkins had had the concrete posts poured to support the deck, and all that was left was to build the wooden structure over the posts. Ned wasn’t home, so there weren’t any interruptions, allowing Rory to settle into an enjoyable rhythm. The feel of wood in his hands, the smell of it, the sun’s heat on his shoulders reminded him of Haiti.

But he was done with Haiti, at least for now. He had to be. He’d been completely stressed-out by his life there; the memories were painful. It was a life he’d once loved, and might love again once he had time to gain perspective on his experience in that country. He never walked past a child on the sidewalk in Eden Harbor that didn’t remind him of the two children whose lives he’d seen destroyed by the collapse of their home in Haiti.

He adjusted his tool belt and laid another board over the base structure of the deck. It wasn’t until he realized that the sun wasn’t on his shoulders that he checked the time...

* * *

PEGGY SAT IN The Big Mug, glancing at her watch, answering questions from people she knew about what she was doing sitting there alone, did she want company and why wasn’t she going home after her long day. She didn’t know that a woman sitting by herself in a coffee shop could be such a point of interest.

She’d moved to Eden Harbor two years ago after inheriting money from her father, money that guaranteed her escape from her mother and her life in Seattle, only to find herself in a community that took a great deal of pleasure in knowing each other’s business. As a new, unattached woman, she had been the subject of many conversations, judging by the way people quizzed her while she was taking their blood. Still, she loved Eden Harbor, the friends she made, her job and the time she spent with the local children. She glanced around the coffee shop again. Maybe if she had her laptop with her, or a newspaper, she would feel less exposed. As it was, a rapidly cooling cup of coffee and rising sense of embarrassment at the way she’d fallen for yet another man’s tall tale was all she had to keep her company.

Yet Rory MacPherson seemed so sincere. He’d behaved as if he really wanted to have coffee with her. But had she read more into his behavior than was really there? Was her dateless life getting the better of her? Had it left her to create her own fantasy around a man she’d met only because he needed his blood taken? She’d even chosen a tiny booth at the back of the coffee shop just so they could talk. He’d said he wanted to talk. She shook her head at her gullibility. She’d fallen for his charm and sexiness, his smooth talk—clearly the only talk he planned to offer her.

She glanced at her watch for the hundredth time—4:29 p.m.

With a sigh she finished her coffee, gathered her coat, her bag and got out of the booth. Waving her thanks to the clerk, she headed for the side door leading to the parking lot. She pushed hard, only to have the door pop open, nearly landing her on her backside. Great! Another embarrassing moment, the crowning achievement of her afternoon.

“I’m sorry!” Rory said, grabbing for her with his uninjured hand, pulling her against his broad chest, ending her rapid trip toward the concrete walkway outside the door.

He steadied her as she recovered. “Are you all right?”

She heard the sincerity in his voice and steeled herself against it. Action, not words, was what she needed. “I’m fine.” She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and stepped away from him. “And you’re late,” she said, instantly regretting the words that made her sound like a demanding, possessive woman. She was neither.

“I’m really sorry. I lost track of time.”

He looked so crestfallen she couldn’t resist offering him a conciliatory smile. “Never mind. I have to get home. I have horses to feed, dinner to prepare.”

He let the door slide closed, leaving them standing outside in the parking lot. “Can I make it up to you?”

His words made her realize how much she’d been looking forward to having coffee with him. All her brave thoughts about not minding being alone, of having accepted her single lifestyle, felt like a lie in the presence of this man.

She had tomorrow off, and she wasn’t doing very much other than cleaning her tack room, grooming her two horses and hanging out around the house doing chores. If Rory MacPherson wanted to make it up to her, he could take her to dinner, and she’d be sure to meet him downtown. It was her policy on a first date that she always met the man somewhere away from her home, just in case he was a raving lunatic looking to avenge his angst against his mother on some unsuspecting female.

She hadn’t yet managed to cure herself of being suspicious. “Okay. Why don’t we meet at O’Toole’s in the Wayfarer Inn, say around seven tomorrow evening?”

“That sounds great. Does O’Toole’s have a dress code?”

“Clean and neat as far as I know.”

He turned, his body close to hers, his movement suggesting a closeness that didn’t exist between them. “Can I walk you to your car?”

She moved out of his space, clutching her bag nearer her body. “No, that’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow at seven.”

“Don’t be late,” he said, a teasing tone in his voice.

* * *

THE NEXT DAY Peggy got up early, energized by a good sleep and the prospect of a day off. She’d taken her mare, Suzie, out for a long ride down into the fields next to her farm. The people who owned the property were summer residents but had given her permission to ride their wooded trails. She was sweating almost as hard as her horse when she walked Suzie back into the barn and removed the saddle.

On the ride her thoughts had been firmly on Rory, not a good sign at all. Given her track record in finding a man, she shouldn’t get her hopes up. Coffee with him, after all, had not gone as planned. She’d been left feeling like an afterthought, suggesting to her that he’d not been as excited about seeing her as she’d been about seeing him. Would dinner be fraught with the same mismatch of expectations?

Every man she’d ever been attracted to had turned out to be a dud on one front or another. Her biggest disasters had been her online dating attempts. It convinced her that there had to be a lot of men out there who were more in touch with Photoshop than any woman who came into their lives.

Since she’d moved to Eden Harbor, she hadn’t dated anyone because she didn’t feel like getting to know someone only to be disappointed. Why was it that so many of her friends had found Mr. Right while she couldn’t find even one Mr. Maybe?

She finished caring for Suzie, let her into the paddock with Zeus and headed back toward the house. From across the yard she heard Ned Tompkins calling to her. She glanced over to see that he was standing next to a pile of lumber, and his deck was beginning to take shape. She looked again. Was that Rory MacPherson?

“Peggy! Come on over and meet my new carpenter,” Ned said.

She smelled like sweat and dirt and horse. She couldn’t go over there without a shower. “Hi, Ned.” She pointed to her house. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. I’ll drop by on my way from town,” she said, scurrying along the path from the barn.

“No, I need to talk to you. It’s important,” he yelled as he helped the carpenter with a long piece of wood. Wiping his hands on his pants, he said, “I want you to meet someone,” he insisted as he beckoned to her. “Come on.”

“Oh, all right,” she said, intending to stay downwind, if there was a wind, so that her unwashed body wouldn’t offend anyone—namely, Rory. Reluctantly, she crossed the open stretch of field between the houses. Rory stopped what he was doing and turned to face her. He was even more gorgeous in the morning light. How could that be?

Ned made the introductions, but she wasn’t listening. She was staring up into those gorgeous blue eyes and the mess-me-up-a-little dirty blond hair.

“Small world,” he offered, his hand extended in greeting.

“Yeah,” she said, but it sounded more like a sigh.

“You know each other?” Ned asked, moving closer, his eyes darting from one to the other.

“We met at the hospital,” Rory replied, looking deep into her eyes. So deep she thought she would fall in. What was it about this man that had her heart tripping in her chest?

Ned cleared his throat. “Okay, well, can you stay for a few minutes, Peggy? I need to speak to you.”

If her world was perfectly in sync with her wishes, she’d stay right here and learn to be a carpenter. She’d spend long hours working up a sweat with this man. She tried not to look at the muscles curving over his shoulders and chest under his black T-shirt.

But her world wasn’t perfect. She smelled like an armpit. She had to run errands in town, maybe pick up a new top for tonight. Something sexy...

She dragged her gaze from Rory and focused on Ned. “Sorry, Ned, but I have an appointment. Can we talk later?”

“I guess so. It’s certainly not going to go away anytime soon, so yeah...later.”

Rory leaned toward her. She backed up, hoping not to shroud him in her eau de horse.

“I’ll see you at seven,” he said, low enough that Ned couldn’t hear, for which she was very, very thankful. Nothing against Ned. It was just that she’d like to have a little privacy, and obviously so did Rory. Nice.


CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_6f1dd611-12a1-5b0f-a83b-44e537116e17)

RORY PACED BACK and forth in front of the Wayfarer Inn. He’d dug out his best dress pants from among the stuff he’d brought from his mother’s house in Bangor, ironed his only dress shirt and borrowed a tie from the guy in the apartment next to him, all in preparation for tonight.

He was about to make another lap around the front flower beds of the inn when he saw her coming across the street. She hadn’t seen him yet. Her stride was long, her silky brown hair clung to her cheeks and the sea green dress she was wearing skimmed her body in all the right places. When she looked his way, he smiled and waved.

Tonight was going to be special. He could feel it. He sucked in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, then realized that he sounded like an overeager teenager.

Peggy glanced at her watch. “Am I late?”

“No, I’m early,” he said as she came near.

She smiled at him, her eyes meeting his. “That’s nice.”

“What is?” he asked, unable to take his eyes from hers.

“You. Being early...for a change,” she said, chuckling.

“So I’m to be reminded of my one sin, am I?”

“Not if tonight goes okay. If all ends well, I will never mention the missed coffee date ever again.”

“Deal,” he said, placing his arm on the small of her back as he led her to the entrance of the inn. He felt so good walking beside her, letting her flowery perfume play along his senses. The waiter showed them to a table by the window with a view of the side garden near the trestle he’d built for their climbing roses. He held her chair for her as she sat down.

“May I take your drink orders?” the waiter asked.

“White wine for me,” Peggy said, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Me, too,” he offered. “I can’t remember the last time I had any alcohol,” he said as the waiter left.

“You don’t drink? You don’t have to have a glass of wine just because I do.”

“No. I drink. I simply haven’t since I got back from Haiti.”

“You lived in Haiti?”

He toyed with the lip of his water glass, his gut tightening. He wished now he hadn’t mentioned Haiti. Yet he’d done it out of a need to be completely honest with the woman who had held his attention since he’d met her. “Yes, for two years.”

“Did you like it?”

He’d spent the early weeks after he’d gotten back trying not to think about Haiti. He’d finally given up trying. Haiti changed his life. “I’m not sure. I don’t know how to describe it.”

“I’m listening if you want to try.”

He met her attentive gaze and was tempted. Yet he wasn’t quite ready to share those memories he’d held so close to his heart, memories both happy and tragic. “Haiti is a special place. I was working for an NGO whose purpose was to rebuild the homes lost in the earthquake. But now I’m back, ready to enjoy life, to make each moment count.”

“I admire you for what you’ve done,” she said, a smile lighting her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes. Eyes that seemed to encourage him to continue.

As much as he wanted to say more, he didn’t want to ruin their evening by getting into a heavy topic like the devastation in Haiti. Their wine arrived. He picked up his glass. “To this evening.”

“To this evening,” she responded, putting her glass to her lips. He couldn’t help noticing that her fingers were long, her nails painted in a subtle shade of pink.

They both ordered a steak. He was pleased to discover a woman who liked steak. Most of the women he’d dated didn’t eat steak because it was too fattening, or too something. To him it was the perfect food. To each his own, he mused as he watched her sip her wine.

“You like to ride horses,” he said.

“I do. When I came here, I was lucky enough to find a small farm property with a barn. I found two horses I love, and I’m now looking at offering riding lessons. On a very small scale, of course, since I work full-time. What about you? What brought you to Eden Harbor?”

“My mother passed away a couple of months ago. I inherited her house in Bangor, sold it and couldn’t decide what to do after. Then one day it came to me.”

Her eyes popped open, the corner of her lips tipped up in a smile. “What came to you?”

“The answer to where I’d move once all the paperwork around my mom’s death was finished. Mom summered in Eden Harbor, out on Cranberry Point, when she was a kid. She loved it. Coming here was an easy decision. I just put some of my things in storage, the rest I put in the back of my truck and I hit the road.” He felt her interested gaze on him and wanted to share more with her. “It just felt right to come here, where my mom had been so happy.” He played with the tines of his fork. “She hadn’t been very happy the last couple of years.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly.

“I am, too. She developed cancer...” He was sorry he’d brought up this particular heavy topic. It had been a very difficult time for him. His mother’s death and what he’d experienced in Haiti had left him desolate and uncertain for the first time in his life.

“Why did you choose to be a carpenter?”

“It’s more like carpentry chose me. My dad liked to build things. When he passed away a few years ago, he left me all his tools. I found myself wanting to learn everything I could about working with wood. I found a program at the tech school in Bangor and decided to try my hand at it.”

She smiled at him over her glass. He felt ridiculously pleased and happy. The best he’d felt since he’d gotten home from Haiti. As they ate they talked about so many things, and he found himself thinking that it would be nice to do this every day...with Peggy. He loved the way she listened to him, made intelligent comments about his work, offered her ideas and generally made him feel that she understood why he’d chosen carpentry.

For the first time since he’d returned home, he wanted to share his feelings about his work in the past two years. What it meant to him. Yet somehow he couldn’t bring himself to do it. To talk about it would make the agony of those months even more acute.

When the waiter brought the dessert menu, they both chose the chocolate cake. “You and I have a lot in common,” he said, enjoying the evening more than he’d imagined.

“At least when it comes to food,” she said.

“A great place to start, don’t you think?” he asked, delighted that her gaze never left his face.

“Why don’t you tell me about your job? You’re good at it, that much I know from my experience.”

“I love it most of all because of the contact with people, and especially children.”

So they shared a love of children, as well. He wondered why a woman as attractive and interesting as Peggy wasn’t already married or engaged. “Yeah, you put that little boy at ease.”

“I aim to please,” she said, color rising in her cheeks. He liked a woman who blushed when complimented.

* * *

PEGGY HADN’T SPENT such a pleasant evening with anyone in a long time. Rory was so interesting to talk to, so sexy, so sweet, so everything she wanted in a man. For him to be this perfect meant he had to have a huge flaw buried somewhere. No man was this easy to talk to, this much fun to be around and not have a female attached to him. Women loved men like Rory.

She needed time to think about this, to seek Gayle Sawyer’s advice on what had to be going on. If her feelings around him were any indication, she’d just found the man of her dreams, and the search hadn’t been easy. She’d dated a lot of men with potential, but somehow the relationship always hit a snag. Either she lost interest, or she learned something about them that turned her off completely.

Of course, she didn’t have to overcome a huge secret like Gayle did, or deal with a teenage son, but still she needed to talk to someone about this. Good advice was essential before she got in too deep with what seemed like just the right man. “Will you excuse me?” she asked as the desserts arrived.

“I’ll order coffee while you’re gone,” he said. “What would you like?”

“Cream. No sugar.”

“Hey. That’s weird. Me, too,” he said, a smile on his face, the one that made her want to smile back at him until her face cracked along the smile lines.

Definitely time to take a break from this enticing man.

Once in the ladies’ room, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were positively rosy. Her eyes were shining. She looked like a very happy woman. Yet it felt so strange, mostly because it had happened so easily, as if they were meant to be together.

She needed some helpful advice. She dialed Gayle’s number and was so relieved when her friend picked up the phone. “Gayle, it’s me, Peggy.”

“How’s your date? Don’t tell me. You’re home already because it turned out to be a bad night. I’m sorry.”

“No! Not that at all. He seems perfect...too perfect.”

“Is there such a thing?”

She propped one hip against the restroom counter. “See. That’s it. There is no such thing as a perfect man.”

“I don’t know about that. I’ve got one sitting across the table from me.”

Her friend had gotten engaged to Nate Garrison two weeks ago and was so happy it almost hurt to watch her. “You’re biased.”

“I am. So tell me more,” Gayle said.

“Like I said, he’s perfect. So perfect I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Of what has to be going on beneath his gorgeous exterior. With my luck, he’s been through a horrible divorce and is looking for a shoulder to cry on.”

“Maybe...”

A woman came into the restroom and approached the sink next to Peggy. “Can you meet me for coffee tomorrow morning?”

“Sure. I’ll come in a little early and have coffee with you. Can’t wait to hear all about him.”

“I’ll tell you when I see you.” She hung up quickly, applied more lipstick, checked that her dress was fitting right over her breasts. As she adjusted her bra, she felt a sharp pinprick of pain on the side of her right breast. She loosened the bra a little and the pain eased. She opened the door and went back down the corridor toward the dining room. As she approached the door, she looked over at Rory to see that he was watching her as if she was the only woman on the planet. How sweet was that?

How much she needed to talk this over with Gayle. There was something definitely amiss. Instant happiness hadn’t happened to her ever before.

“I got him to hold our coffee until you got back,” he said as she sat down.

“That’s really nice,” she said and meant it. “I love my coffee hot.”

“I do, too.”

She sat there feeling like a...a princess. It had a lot to do with the way he looked at her, as if she was special, even beautiful. Where had this man been hiding all her life while she kissed frogs and fought off groping hands?

She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him, only long enough to allow the waiter to place a cup of coffee beside her untouched dessert. She took a forkful of cake and sighed at the luscious chocolate flavor.

“Good or what?” Rory asked.

“What?”

“The cake. It’s delicious, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.” She took another forkful and tried not to groan with delight.

* * *

RORY WALKED HER to her car and waited while she unlocked the door. “Thanks for tonight. I had a good time.”

She glanced up into his eyes, her expression one of interest. “I did, too.”

He wanted to reach for her, pull her into his arms and kiss the breath from her. But he wasn’t very good at this dating thing. He definitely didn’t want to blow his chances of seeing her again by doing something she didn’t like. “You know, a braver man than me would kiss you.”

“A braver man?” she asked, tilting her head back, exposing her long neck.

He wanted to touch her neck, feel her skin under his fingers. He settled for touching her shoulder. “I... I...” He leaned down to her as his fingers caressed her shoulder.

She edged closer, her sighing breath his undoing. He kissed her lips, gently and slowly. She tasted like chocolate and coffee. He wanted more, so much more. He wanted to follow her home, carry her to her bedroom and make love to her all night long. He wanted her in a way that shook him to his core. But he vowed he’d take it slow. If he had anything to say about it, they’d be spending the rest of their lives together. Whoa! You’re not ready for this.

He eased away from her, opening her door as he did so. “Maybe I’ll see you at Ned’s.”

“Maybe you will,” she said breathlessly.

He watched her get in, start her car, wave to him and drive away. Or nearly. She drove over the corner of one of the flower beds as she left the parking lot. He grinned. “I won’t tell a soul,” he said, smiling to himself.

He drove to his apartment, feeling the best he’d felt since he’d come back home. He’d needed to go out with a beautiful woman the way a fish needed water. He’d missed that in Haiti. He’d been too exhausted after each day to wish for anything more than a chance to sleep without dreaming of the desperate lives so many people in Haiti experienced.

Rory drove the three blocks to his apartment, his mind on the evening and how much he’d enjoyed it. He especially enjoyed watching Peggy drive over the flower bed. To him it meant that she was feeling as excited as he was over their time together. Or maybe she was a really bad driver... Yet her car didn’t seem to have any visible dents, no missing fenders.

He eased his truck into the parking space near the rear entrance of the building, got out and went up to his apartment. When he unlocked the door, the whole space seemed different, more inviting somehow. Or maybe it was simply his good mood. He felt invigorated and upbeat. As he dropped his keys on the counter and pulled off his tie, he wondered what Peggy would say if he invited her here for dinner some night. He glanced around his living room, at the jukebox he’d salvaged early in his working career and the framed photos of his sister and parents hanging on the wall in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. With so many clients to do work for, those photos were about the only decorating he’d done since he moved in. But all that would change if Peggy became part of his life.

He had so much he wanted to share with her. So many ideas on how they could spend their time together. Or not...

Maybe she wasn’t nearly as excited about him as he was about her. He yanked off his shirt, pulled off his pants and climbed under the covers.

He was getting ahead of himself. He’d sleep on it and see how he felt in the morning. It took two to make a relationship, and at no point did she say anything about her life or whether she was interested in him. He’d jumped to the conclusion that she was interested in him based on the fact that she’d driven over a flower bed.

Way to go, MacPherson.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING Peggy awoke feeling great. Is that what a decent date with a gorgeous man did to a woman? Of course, there was that not-cool moment when she’d driven over the flower bed. He’d been watching her mortifying misstep from his vantage point of the parking area, so there’d be no way she could deny it. Would he bring it up to her when they saw each other again? Would they see each other again? She sincerely hoped so.

In the meantime, she needed to get to work and to coffee with Gayle. She raced through her morning routine, including feeding the horses. When she arrived at work, the cafeteria was just opening up, and Gayle was waiting for her.

“So, how was your date?” Gayle asked as they made their way toward the cafeteria doors. The early morning light streaked the sky outside the wall of windows, highlighting the water clinging to the waxy leaves of a shrub pressed against the glass.

“It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. I don’t get it.”

“That it was perfect, or that it happened to you?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Why don’t you simply let things be? If he’s that charming and nice, he’ll be in touch. If not, you won’t get hurt,” Gayle said as they arrived at the coffee shop.

“You think it’s as simple as that?” Peggy asked, pouring coffees for both of them.

“I know it is. Don’t chase him. I’m pretty sure he’s going to be in touch really soon. The question will be whether or not you’re ready for a relationship.”

“Gayle! I’ve been ready all my life. I just keep coming up with the wrong man. That’s the kind of man I attract, which means that Rory will probably be just like the others.” They paid for their coffees and moved toward a table near the back of the cafeteria.

“I don’t think so. Call it a hunch, but I believe you’re in for a surprise.”

“You’re in love, so your judgment can’t be relied upon,” she teased.

“Maybe a little. But in my opinion, it’s your turn for happiness, and this might be the man,” Gayle said, glancing around the space.

“Are you a fortune-teller in your spare time?”

“No. I simply believe that when two people are meant to be together, there’s nothing that will stop them.” Gayle’s smile warmed the entire room. “I happen to know that to be a fact.”

Peggy pointed at the diamond sparkling on Gayle’s finger. “It’s easy for you to be so optimistic.”

“Just trust your instincts. In the meantime, tell me more about this Rory person.”

Peggy had no trouble spending the next half hour on Rory and their date. Gayle laughed when she told her about him being late for coffee. Gayle smiled knowingly when Peggy told her about him waiting for her at the inn. As they headed down the hall to work, Peggy realized it was the first time in her life that she had talked for so long about a man she’d only just met.

Later that day as she returned to her house, driving along the narrow track road that led past Ned Tompkins’s house, she did a quick check for Rory. He wasn’t there, and she was disappointed.

Give it a rest. You just met this man!

When she got to her driveway and turned in, Ned was standing there waiting for her. What was so important that Ned was in her yard? She pulled to a stop and got out. “Is there something wrong? Did Zeus get out again?” He’d gotten out a week ago, and she’d been forced to search the neighboring fields looking for him.

Ned approached her, his eyes bright. “This is probably not mine to ask, you understand.” His eyes focused on hers. “What’s your connection to Bill Cassidy?”

She’d come to Eden Harbor, where her mother had grown up, looking for anyone who might know about her mother’s past. She was very interested in whom her mother had dated growing up in Eden Harbor, whom she’d been friends with. She hadn’t been able to learn very much about her mother, only that her parents had both passed away. Eden Harbor was her only lead in finding who might have been her birth father. She’d first met Bill Cassidy when he’d found her searching her mother’s graduation class photo at the local high school. Bill Cassidy had walked up to her wanting to know if he could help her. When she asked about Ellen Donnelly, he was curt with her. Feeling intimidated by his presence, she left when the opportunity arose, hoping to learn more about her mother some other way. “He’s the coach at the high school. He coaches the volleyball team I play on each Wednesday night.” She had no intention of telling Ned about her earlier encounter with Mr. Cassidy. “Why do you ask?”

“Is that all?”

“What do you mean?”

“My sister is Lisa Sherwood. You know her?”

“Yeah, she’s on the team. You know that. I mentioned it to you the first time I went to the practice.”

Ned rubbed his chin and scuffed his feet on the dirt of the driveway. “Some of the team feels that you and Bill are a little too chummy.”

She’d hardly describe their relationship as chummy. “What are you trying to say?” she asked, angry and hurt that people would talk about her that way. She was always very careful to be friendly but not overly so, especially with men, for this reason.

“He’s a man twice your age. That’s all. You don’t want people talking that way about you, do you?”

She clenched her fists and searched for a calmness she didn’t feel. “What if I didn’t care what people talked about?”

“Are you saying there’s something going on between the two of you?” Ned’s expression was one of fascination.

Peggy would like to tell her nosy neighbor to get lost. But she didn’t need any gossip going around about her, and even worse, Bill probably had a wife who wouldn’t be happy to have baseless rumors circulating about her husband. Most of all, Peggy didn’t want Bill Cassidy to hear gossip connecting him to her. He was the school sports coach. “I told you. He’s only my volleyball coach. He almost certainly has a wife. For the record, there is no relationship between Mr. Cassidy and me, other than the obvious one.”

“Bill Cassidy doesn’t have a wife. He doesn’t have a girlfriend that anyone knows about.” Ned continued to watch her in that odd way of his. “I wouldn’t have asked about him, only he was over at your house one day,” he said quietly. “Look, I didn’t mean to upset you. Just trying to look out for you, that’s all.”

Bill Cassidy had been visiting her neighbor farther down the road past her house, spotted her in her paddock with Zeus and had stopped by. Nothing more to it. “He came to see my horses once. He’s a great coach. That’s all. He’s kind to everyone, including me.” He’d been very nice. Very interested in where she had gotten the horses and how she had chosen each of them.

“I’ve known Bill Cassidy all his life, and he’s never been interested in horses.”

“People change,” she said. Thinking about it now, it did seem very peculiar.

“If you say so,” he mumbled, looking just a little embarrassed.

Ned had been a good neighbor in the two years she’d been here. But his sister was in a whole other league when it came to minding other people’s business. If she were a betting woman, she’d bet that Lisa had pressed Ned to ask questions about her relationship with Bill Cassidy.

Ned headed off along the road, disappearing into his house a few minutes later. Peggy breathed a sigh of relief. She shouldn’t have gotten angry with Ned. Although he was nosy, he had been helpful and kind to her over the years. When she moved in, he’d helped her fix the fencing, clean out the stalls. When she told him she’d pay him, he refused, saying that he was happy to have someone living on the road.

This was the first time he’d behaved so strangely. Maybe he was genuinely concerned about her reputation. She went into the house and turned on the TV for company as she organized her dinner before heading out to feed the horses. She loved the routine of her day, especially looking after her horses. Sherri Brandon, one of Peggy’s other friends at work, had stopped her today to ask about giving her stepdaughter, Morgan Brandon, riding lessons. She was looking forward to the opportunity, wondering at the same time what day of the week she should offer Sherri.

She had a volleyball game this evening and was looking forward to it. She loved the game, something she had shared with her mother, Ellen. When she was a teenager, she and her mother used to practice around a net her father had put up in the backyard of the Craftsman house they lived in during her father’s time in Canada. Her favorite place of all the places they’d lived.

When she got to the gym, everyone was there, ready to play. The game was fast and exciting, during which she scored four times, a record for her. Coach Cassidy had been generous with his praise, reminding her of Ned’s inappropriate comments.

She was determined not to let Ned and his dreadful sister influence how she behaved around the coach and agreed to join the team for a drink to celebrate the win. She showered and dressed, ready for a fun evening.

She hadn’t thought of the sore spot on her right breast since she’d been out on the court, and she didn’t plan to think about it now. Tomorrow would be time enough. She had a routine physical in the morning, and she’d talk to Dr. Brandon about it then. She’d looked on the internet, and what she had near her underarm didn’t look like any of the pictures she saw, some of them really awful.

Once at the pub, they pulled a couple of tables together.

“That was a great game,” Tina Sullivan, a nurse from the hospital, said as she settled in next to Peggy.

“It was. And we have our coach to thank for most of it,” Peggy said, feeling generous toward the man who had been pretty tough on all of them these past months. “To you,” she said, holding up her beer to the man sitting across the table from her.

“Hey! This isn’t about me. It’s about you ladies. You deserved to win tonight.” He raised his beer and clicked her bottle. “To all of you.” But he seemed to be saying the words to her. Or was it her imagination? Had Ned’s insinuations changed how she saw her coach? She hoped not. She’d learned more about playing volleyball since joining this team a year ago than she’d ever learned during all her high school years.

She sipped her beer, acutely aware that Coach Cassidy was watching her. Did any of her teammates notice? Or had this extra attention always been there, and she was the last to see it? She’d always played as hard as any of her team members because of his good coaching and because she loved the game. And of course, the coach had spent hours encouraging, teaching and sometimes cajoling them to try harder, to do better. It was only natural that he’d be paying attention to each of them.

Yet she couldn’t completely block out Ned’s words, and it made her feel sad and angry at the same time. She didn’t know much about Bill Cassidy aside from the fact that he was the coach at the high school and the kids he coached all seemed to like him. The only negative thing she’d ever heard about him was from Gayle. It seemed that her son, Adam, hadn’t made the basketball team, and Gayle believed he should have. Gayle was very proud of her son and believed in him. It only made sense that she would want Adam to succeed in whatever he did. Lots of kids don’t make teams, so it was hardly a negative where the coach was concerned.

One thing was certain: neither she nor Coach Cassidy deserved to be gossiped about in the way Lisa Sherwood had done to her brother. She glanced across the table to see Lisa staring at her. She gave the woman a determined smile. It wasn’t fair to her or Bill Cassidy, this feeling that somehow there was something going on between them.

Yet each time she looked in the coach’s direction, he was glancing her way. She was beginning to feel vaguely creeped out. Whatever was going on, she didn’t need any more trouble. Disheartened, she decided to leave when her beer was finished. As she got up, so did Coach Cassidy, and he followed her toward the door.

“I need to talk to you when you have a minute,” he said, over the din of the bar.

“Can it wait?” she asked without stopping. When he didn’t answer, she turned around to face him.

He rubbed his face, looked her up and down. “Something... I need to discuss something with you,” he said, his voice low and anxious.

What could be so wrong that he would suddenly get upset about? Coach Cassidy was always cool and in control. Whatever it was, she couldn’t handle it right now. Not until she knew what the funny mark on her breast was. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“See you next Wednesday,” he called to her as she strode purposefully toward the door leading to the parking lot.

She didn’t know if she’d be at the practice next week or not. She didn’t need anyone talking the way Ned had earlier. She didn’t need any more stuff to worry about. She had enough on her mind.


CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_e2269d29-c023-5f81-83b0-48f5a04f7969)

DR. BRANDON FOCUSED on her right breast, the spot Peggy described. He did a physical exam, probing the area. It didn’t hurt anymore, which was a huge relief. Maybe the spot had hurt because she’d been wearing a new push-up bra. She was really embarrassed that she had to show him her breast. Yeah, she knew it was a physical exam that was very important, and Dr. Brandon was very professional, yet she still felt kind of strange...

“When did you last have a mammogram?”

She glanced quickly at him. “I can’t remember.”

He went to the computer and tapped a few keys. “Not since you moved here, correct?”

She tried to match his professional tone, afraid that he would say something to her about not having the test done all these years. “Correct.”

She’d thought the spot on the right side of her breast was a pimple. In fact, she had been certain. Did he think she had something else?

“I want you to go this afternoon to the X-ray department and have a mammogram done. I’ll be in touch with you as soon as I see the results of the test.”

“I don’t understand. It’s just a pimple, isn’t it?”

“Probably, but let’s be sure.”

She didn’t hear another word he said after that. He did her pap test and finished the rest of the physical examination. All the while she had only one thought on her mind. Her mother had had breast cancer years ago. As her daughter, she’d been advised to have regular mammograms but had ignored the advice. Had it been in defiance of her mother’s harping about it? Or had it simply been that she didn’t believe it could happen to her?

When the doctor finished the exam, he left her with a requisition for a mammogram and one for routine blood work. She put her clothes on, not touching her right breast that suddenly seemed to feel bigger, even painful. This couldn’t be happening. She had a good life here in Eden Harbor.

Don’t get ahead of yourself. Go get the mammogram done.

She got to the hospital and, in response to the sympathetic look from the technician, she said it was simply part of her physical. She winced when the machine compressed the tissue on the right side. She cried when she finally got home to her house.

Drying her tears, she went for a long ride on Zeus. The horse seemed to sense that she was fearful because normally he was very high-spirited. Today he was gentle and calm, giving her one of the best rides of her life. Once again she was thankful for her horses, especially Zeus.

She returned to her house in time to hear the phone ringing. Caller ID displayed Rory MacPherson’s name. When she answered, his cheerful voice was so far removed from her thoughts that at first she didn’t respond to his friendly inquiry about going for coffee.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m fine,” she said, her thoughts on her doctor’s appointment.

“You don’t sound fine. Look, I’m taking my bill to Ned Tompkins for payment. I’m on my way there now. Mind if I stop by? I want to ask a favor of you.”

She didn’t want to see him. She didn’t want to see anyone. Yet the plea in his voice, the mystery of what the favor was gave her something to think about other than her doctor’s serious tones when he asked her questions during her exam. “Okay. Drop by, but only for a few minutes. I’ve work to do.”

She went to the yard when he pulled into the driveway. Somehow she didn’t want him inside her home, not when she had so much to think about. Besides, he’d be here for only a few minutes.

He smiled as he got out of his truck. “So nice to know you’re waiting for me. Thank you for a great evening. We haven’t had a chance to talk since then, but I wanted you to know how I felt.”

“I enjoyed it, too.” She couldn’t help but notice the way his cotton shirt hugged his body. His gorgeous body. The heat of her cheeks made her look away from his intense gaze. “So, what was the favor you needed?”

He tucked his cell phone into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He moved close to her. “I’ve purchased two tickets to the annual fund-raiser for the fire station. It’s a dinner and dance. Would you go with me?”

She glanced at the sheet of paper he’d handed her, reading the details hurriedly. “Next week?”

“Yeah. I know it’s short notice.” He offered a disarming smile.

She’d never gone to the fund-raiser. She hadn’t danced in years, other than in front of her mirrored closet doors. Yet she didn’t feel like going and socializing when she was so worried about the results of her mammogram. If circumstances were different... She glanced at him to see that his eyes were on her, waiting for her response. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t go.”

His smile faded. He looked away then back at her, revealing a look of surprise. Had he never been turned down before? He squinted at her. “Can I ask why not?”

Why was he looking so...so forlorn? She wasn’t the only available woman in Eden Harbor. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy your company. I do.”

“I enjoy your company, or I wouldn’t have asked you. What’s the problem?”

Most men she’d ever refused to date had always been either surly or at least disappointed. But Rory stood there, smelling of freshly washed shirts and spicy cologne. His hopeful expression made her want to change her mind, go with him and have a fun evening. “Please try to understand I’m really not—”

“If you don’t like me and don’t want to go with me, just say so.” He sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so annoyed,” he said, his eyes dark.

She felt awful. First, she really wanted to go, but how could she manage to stay upbeat and in the party mood knowing that there might be a cancer growing inside her? “What if I’m not very good company?”

His eyebrows clamped together. “What’s worrying you? Is it something I did?” he asked.

“No. Not at all. I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“Whatever is worrying you is not my business, unless you want to tell me.” Taking her shoulders gently in his powerful hands, he gazed down into her eyes. “I’m a good listener, if you need to talk. Or if not, it’s still okay. But look at it this way. If you decided to go, you’d get to stumble around the dance floor with me.”

“Stumble? I doubt that very much. I’ll bet you’re a good dancer.”

“Then why don’t you go with me and find out?”

Would an evening out hurt her? It might even make her feel less anxious. Even better, it could turn out to be enjoyable. Their dinner date had turned out better than she’d expected. If she didn’t go, she’d spend the evening trying to keep her worry at bay by watching reruns of some made-for-TV thriller series. “When you put it that way, how can I refuse?”

“Great! I’ll talk to you later about going to the fund-raiser.” He turned to go, stopped and turned back to face her. “And by the way, I had a really great time having dinner with you.”

“Me, too.” She watched him pull down her driveway, feeling so much better than when he arrived. Maybe the dating tide was turning in her favor. She smiled and headed to the horse barn.

* * *

THE NEXT AFTERNOON Rory had finished presenting his estimate to a new client earlier than expected. Realizing that he was only minutes from Peggy’s house, he decided he wanted to see her. Turning off the highway and heading down her road, he realized he didn’t have a clue why he was doing this.

He supposed what he really wanted was to see if she’d talk to him about what was bothering her. There was definitely something going on, and he was pretty sure it had happened after they’d been out to dinner. People would probably think he was nosy, but... He had to know what had made her look so sad and worried.

When he reached her house, he was pleased to see her out in the paddock hammering something on one of the posts. He jumped out of his truck and strode toward her. “I was just in the neighborhood.”

She turned her face up to him, a smile in her eyes as he approached. “Cut it out. You were not.”

In all his life he had never seen a woman who could make jeans and a gray-checked shirt look so sexy. Yet she seemed totally unaware of her effect on him. “So, what are you doing here? This is a dead-end street, so you’re not on your way somewhere. Did you just suddenly decide to pay a visit?”

“I came to see if I could help you.” He glanced past her at the work she was doing on the posts. “And this is right up my alley, if you need me.”

She cocked her hands on her hips. “Unsolicited repairs are free?”

“I’ll put it under ‘helping a friend.’”

She glanced from the fence rail to him. “If you insist.”

“Let’s have a look,” he said, moving closer to the fence post where she’d been working. He could see right away that the post had rotted out just above the ground, making it a wasted effort to try to reattach the fence boards. “Have you got any more of these posts?”

“Yes, I believe there are some out behind the barn. I’ll show you.”

She started to walk ahead of him, offering him a view of her behind and the way her jeans fit that made his blood run hot. “Spectacular,” he said under his breath.

“I’m sorry. What?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Nothing. I mutter when I walk,” he said, trying for humor when all he wanted to do was cup her bottom in his hands.

“Can’t imagine what sort of noise you’d make if you had to run. Yell, maybe?” she said, tossing the words over her shoulder. “Here they are.” She pointed to the pile of wooden posts against the back wall of the barn.

“Perfect.” He picked one up and started toward the paddock. “I’ll get my tools out of the truck. I’ll need a shovel if you’ve got one.”

“Coming right up.”

She was waiting for him with a large shovel and a hoe when he got what he needed from his tool locker. It was damned difficult to concentrate on fixing her fence with her standing there. Yet he managed it somehow, finishing everything up and putting things back.

He was about to head for his truck when two horses came galloping toward him, moving faster the closer they got. “Whoa!” he yelled and jumped back.

“They won’t hurt you,” she said, laughing as the two horses plowed to a stop in front of her and nudged her hands. “They’re looking for treats. I’ve got some in my pocket.”

He could have sworn there wasn’t room to put anything inside those jeans other than her body, but sure enough she pulled two carrot chunks out of the left-hand pocket and fed them to the horses. “Have you always liked horses?” he asked, waiting for his pulse to stop playing hopscotch around his chest.

“I used to ride when I was a kid. My dad would often ride with me. I’ve always loved horses.”

“Bunnies or small dogs are more my style...Don’t have either at the moment. Not allowed in the apartment building where I live.”

“Will you get a pet when you buy a house?”

“Don’t know if I’m buying a house.”

She gave him an assessing glance. “Does that mean you’re not staying here?”

“Not sure.”

He realized once the words were out of his mouth that she wasn’t pleased. She seemed to pull back. Her eyes searched the horizon. Silence stretched between them like an elastic band being pulled to the breaking point.

Finally she spoke. “How did you decide to come here? I mean, there must have been job opportunities in Bangor.”

“I came home. Sold my mom’s house and came here.” He shrugged. “Simple as that.”

“Isn’t that a little impulsive?”

He shook his head. “It’s just the way I am. I decided to go to Haiti in a matter of days.”

“Aren’t you afraid that an impulsive decision could lead to problems once you’ve had time to consider what you’ve done?”

“No. I don’t. I’ve always gone with my gut. For me, the right choice is the one I make the first time around. If I overthink a situation, I begin to doubt myself and end up making the wrong decision.”

“You mean you always make the easiest choice?”

This lady, this woman he’d become so infatuated with, didn’t believe in being even the slightest bit reckless or impulsive. “Depends on how you look at it.”

“And how do you look at it?” she said, her tone casual but the emotion behind it clear. She didn’t approve.

“Something meant to be...like when we met.”

She gave him a wry smile. “That wasn’t meant to be. That was Dr. Brandon’s order.”

“Depends on how you look at it,” he repeated.

“It was no accident that Dr. Brandon ordered blood work.”

“But you have to admit that it was an accident that brought me in to see the doctor.”

“Okay. We can agree on that much at least.” She walked beside him to his truck, turning to face him with her hands tucked into the pockets of those tight jeans of hers that made his pulse do seriously strange things. “You’ve been very kind. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“No man has been that kind to me, except my father. I loved him very much.” She rubbed her palms on the sides of her jeans, squinting up at the sky.

He stopped, surprised by her remark. This woman’s experience with men couldn’t have been all that great if fixing her fence had been such a big deal to her. “Your dad must have been pretty special. My father was the best. I miss him all the time. Mom, too, but it’s different with Dad.”

“My mother’s still alive, so I don’t know about that.”

He couldn’t keep his mind from running over the possible reasons why a woman as beautiful as Peggy Anderson had commented on how kindness was not a normal occurrence in her life. “Lucky you.”

“Not necessarily. I haven’t seen my mom in two years. Not since we had...” She rubbed her hands on her jeans. “You don’t need to hear all this.”

He reached the door of his truck aware that what he really wanted to do was to stay and learn more about this woman. He settled for taking her hand in his. “I do need to hear, if we’re going to be friends.”

“Friends?”

“Did you have more in mind?” he asked, keeping his tone light and noncommittal.

She shaded her eyes with her hand as she glanced over at the paddock. “I don’t have much of anything in mind,” she said, her voice soft, but her words offering a rebuke.

“You don’t seem to have much faith in people. Is there a reason?”

She returned her gaze to him, her expression unreadable. “What would you do if your mother had lied to you all your life?”

“Whoa! Don’t know. My mom and I were always close. Can’t imagine how that would feel.”

She turned to face him, a lost look in her eyes. “There are moments I wish I could call my mom, but too much time has passed, too many missed opportunities.”

He didn’t know what to say to her to ease the naked loneliness capturing her face. He wasn’t good at any of this sort of thing, of facing sadness or sorrow—part of why his experience in Haiti had been so difficult. Or so his therapist had said, back when he was still keeping his appointments with her.

“Tell you what. Why don’t we talk about what time I should pick you up? We both need a little cheering up, and the fire station fund-raiser sounds like fun.”

“Sure. I have to feed the horses after work, then get ready. Anytime after that.”

They agreed on a time, and he couldn’t help wishing that she’d wear the dress she’d worn when they went out to dinner the other night. He left her place, his spirits high, anticipation making him glad he’d decided to stay in Eden Harbor, at least for now.

The next evening the community center was packed with people by the time they got there. Delighted to hear that Peggy had a date for the fund-raiser, Gayle and Sherri had agreed to hold a table where the three couples could sit together. Peggy glanced around the room, immediately spotting Neill Brandon’s red hair and height above the crowd of people. “There they are,” she said, leaning into Rory so that her words could be heard over the noise of the crowd milling about.

“I’ll follow you,” he said, placing his hand in the small of her back, his fingers heated points against her cool skin. She wore the dress she’d worn to dinner, a last-minute decision, the result of getting home late because of a patient whose veins were difficult to find. The look in Rory’s eyes when he arrived to pick her up told her she’d made a good choice.

She had been looking forward to tonight since she woke up this morning; such a relief not to be thinking about her doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Although it would feel really strange to be socializing with Dr. Brandon tonight, when he had news that would either put her mind at ease or change her life. Her stomach fluttered at the thought.

They approached the group at the table together, the expression on each of their faces one of open curiosity. She forced all thoughts of tomorrow from her mind. Tonight she promised to enjoy herself. She introduced Rory. Just as they went to sit down, a woman came up to Rory and thanked him for fixing her mother’s front steps. Peggy couldn’t help but notice that the woman didn’t give anyone else at the table one moment of attention. Not even Dr. Brandon, the man everyone admired for coming home to practice medicine and marry his high school sweetheart.

Gayle leaned over to Peggy. “Is she flirting with him?” she asked.

“Yep.” Peggy sighed. “Hope the whole evening doesn’t end up this way.”

“I doubt it. I saw the look in Rory’s eyes as he escorted you over here to the table. The man’s hooked on you.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know. Open your eyes, Peggy, and see what’s right in front of you,” Gayle whispered.

What if Rory was hooked on her? Was it possible? Could someone care for her so quickly, so easily?

She really liked him, but like was a long way from love. Yet as she sat beside him, his shoulder brushing hers as he talked to the woman, she wanted Gayle’s words to be true.

Peggy’s breath caught as Rory turned his attention back to her. She met his easy smile, saw the awareness in his eyes. A wonderful feeling of intimacy warmed her, making her a little anxious about what would happen next. She regretfully realized she didn’t want any man hooked on her right now, not until she knew the outcome of her test. “Everyone at the table seems to have something to drink. Can I get you something?” he asked, leaning into her space, making her neck tingle.

“I’ll have a glass of white wine.”

“Me, too,” he said close to her ear before going to the bar.

“Who would have thought that the six of us would be here this evening?” Sherri asked, her hand resting on the table, displaying her wedding ring. It had been only a few weeks since Neill and Sherri’s wedding, and people were still talking about it. The general consensus was that it had been the social event of the year.

Adding to the excitement, Gayle and Nate were now engaged to be married. Peggy felt like Alice in wedding land. Of course, she was very happy for both her friends, even though at times she had to admit to being a little bit envious. Sherri and Neill were deep in conversation as were Nate and Gayle, leaving Peggy with time to look around at all the people at the fund-raiser. Moving here had been the biggest risk she’d ever taken, and it had paid off. She was happy here, content with her life, her job and her horses. She’d been happy to settle for all of that until she’d met Rory.

She was searching the crowd for him when he came toward her, two glasses in his hands. As he reached their table, the band began to play. Rory put the glasses down and took her hand. “This is our song.”

“Our song?” she asked as she rose. “We don’t have a song.”

He pulled her into his arms. “We do now. A nice waltz, I’m pleased to report. What is it, by the way?”

“You don’t know?”

He held her close, the powerful muscles in his arms cradling her. “I haven’t a clue. But I must say it’s perfect for what I want to do.”

“And that is?”

“Hold you while we sway to the music.” He smiled down at her. “I think it only fair to warn you that I’ve never had dance lessons. I make it up as I go.”

“Fair enough. If you make moves I can’t follow, I’ll stand on your feet and you can carry me around.”

His laugh was open and genuine. “Hang on, princess,” he said, swinging her around as he moved through the other couples on the dance floor, his body locked to hers in such a way that she couldn’t move. Besides, she didn’t want to move, to let go of him, or even to make conversation with him. Not right now. Now was the time to simply enjoy and have fun with this handsome man who was drawing looks from virtually every woman in the room.

Later she danced with Nate and again with Rory and with one of her regular patients at the phlebotomy clinic. Sherri was dancing with other men, leaving Neill Brandon to dance with whomever he chose. He hadn’t chosen her, and she couldn’t help wondering why he hadn’t. Were the results of her mammogram bad?

When the party ended, they all walked out together. Peggy had never been part of a group of couples and felt really pleased that tonight she was.

“See you at work tomorrow,” Gayle said.

“It was nice to meet all of you,” Rory said, his arm snugly around Peggy.

All the way home Peggy couldn’t shake her anxiety over tomorrow, when she would learn the test results. Tonight had been perfect, fun and exciting. But if she got a bad report, she would have to rethink any relationship hopes she had where Rory was concerned. She could not focus on a relationship if she had to face the kind of changes being diagnosed with breast cancer would mean to her life.

If she got bad news tomorrow, she was alone, without family here in Eden Harbor and would have to rely on her friends for support.

She wanted to call her mom and talk all of this over. Her mother had had breast cancer when Peggy was a preteen. She’d never really talked to her about what it had been like. In fact, she hadn’t talked to her mom ever since she’d learned that her father, Marcus Anderson, wasn’t her birth father, a lie she could not forgive her mother for perpetuating. She loved her dad, and he’d loved her very much.

“Would a penny cover it?” he asked.

“Pardon?”

“Your thoughts. You haven’t said a word since you got into the cab of my truck.”

She glanced over at him, his open smile, his dark eyes focused on hers. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so rude.”

“Not a problem,” he said, but she recognized the tone of a man who felt he’d been ignored.

As Rory pulled into her driveway, Peggy gathered her purse and her shawl preparing to leave and go into the house. Rory shut off the engine. Peggy reached for the door.

“What’s the hurry?” he asked, his voice low and sensual.

“I have to work tomorrow,” she said, opening the door and flooding the interior of the truck with soft light.

“We both do,” he said, squinting in the sudden brightness. “That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the rest of the evening.”

“You mean we go into my house and do what?” she asked. She didn’t want to sound harsh, but she did need to be alone right now. Rory would probably not understand that, which meant he’d make his polite good-night, and she wouldn’t hear from him again.

“As I told you before, I’m a good listener if you—”

“I really have to go in. Please understand.”

He shrugged. “I get it. I read the signs wrong. You’re not interested in continuing further.”

“That’s not true! I’m sorry if you think that.”

“Then tell me what to think. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t. Not right now.” She found herself searching his face for some sense that he understood.

“So you want me to believe that you’re interested in me, but not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. Or next month. Whenever.”

She heard the rising tone of his voice, and her tummy touched her toes. She couldn’t share her worry with a stranger, and he didn’t seem to be aware that she needed privacy. Obviously, he was disappointed that she hadn’t invited him into her house. She’d read this script before. Another time. Another place. Another man. “I want to go in and go to bed. I have a lot riding on tomorrow, and I need to be ready to face it. If you cannot accept that, then—”

He leaned across the console, placed his large hand firmly behind her head, drew her face to his and kissed her. A simple kiss that claimed her. She reached up to touch his face, to feel the faint stubble on his cheeks, the pulse along his chin line. He gently blocked her hand with his. Then ever so quietly he ended the kiss, nearly driving her wild with need.

“I believe I’ve made my point. Have a good night. Dream of me if you like,” he said, a light teasing tone back in his voice. He touched his forehead to hers, and suddenly she wished he could come in. She wished she wasn’t so anxious about her health, her life, about so many things. A sharp pang of regret tightened her throat, making words impossible. He was being so kind, so very much the man she’d imagined she’d meet one day.

“We’ll continue this at a later date,” he whispered, planting another kiss on the end of her nose.

As her heart pounded and her thoughts scrambled, she clambered out the door of the truck toward her house. She’d wanted to stay right there with him, to let him kiss her until they had no choice but to move to her bedroom. She wanted it but she couldn’t have it. Not tonight, and maybe not for a very long time.

He was everything she wanted and everything she couldn’t afford emotionally. Not when so much of her life would revolve around what the doctor had to say.

Yanking off her clothes, she climbed under her duvet and curled up into a ball. She’d never felt so alone in her life. All of it her doing, but still every bit as painful.


CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_4a5d020e-ba7b-5834-8275-1f3c73545f38)

PEGGY WENT INTO WORK, her mind on her doctor’s appointment scheduled for eleven o’clock at Dr. Brandon’s office. She had hoped that his office might call to say the mammogram was negative, but they hadn’t. To her that meant only one thing. She drew in a deep breath to ward off the tears.

She hadn’t eaten a bite, nor had she slept until around four o’clock, when she finally fell exhausted into a deep sleep, during which she dreamed that someone was calling to her. She’d awoken sweaty and disoriented, believing that someone was in the house looking for her. A long shower helped clear her head of the dream, a shower during which she didn’t touch her breast.

When she reached the phlebotomy clinic, she turned on her computer at her workstation in preparation for the day ahead. Gayle came by her desk, leaning her arm on the counter, a sympathetic smile on her face. “Want to talk about it?”

“I’m scared, Gayle. I don’t know what I’ll do if this is cancer. If I have to go to Portland or Bangor for treatment, leave my job for days on end, find someone to look after my horses while I’m sick...” She tried to breathe over her fear, to draw air in past the knot in her throat.

“Sherri and I are here for you. We’ll do anything we can to help.”

Gayle’s voice, so filled with care, brought tears to her eyes. “I know you will, and I appreciate it so much. It’s just that I’ve never felt this alone before.”

“Why don’t you let me call your mom?”

“No! She’d make this all about her. I don’t have the energy for that.”

“What can I do?”

Peggy came around the desk and hugged her friend. “Just knowing you’re here and willing to help makes all the difference.”

“Okay. Who’s covering for you after eleven?”

“Janet Mills.”

“Call me when you get home. Promise?”

“I promise to call you the first chance I get.”

Peggy managed to make it through her morning patients, including a particularly exuberant four-year-old. When Janet arrived, she gathered up her purse and headed out.

When she got to Dr. Brandon’s office, his waiting room was empty. Peggy was very thankful for the reprieve. Waiting in a room full of people, trying to remain upbeat when people started a conversation with her, would have been difficult.

Ethel Stairs, Dr. Brandon’s receptionist, tipped her reading glasses down her nose and looked across her desk at Peggy. Peggy couldn’t help but wonder what Ethel would do if by some chance her perfect hair got ruffled a little.

“Good morning, Peggy. It’s so nice to see you. You haven’t been in the office for months, have you?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“And I have the correct insurance information on you, I believe,” Ethel said and read the information to Peggy for confirmation. Ethel patted the file before placing it on the corner of her desk. “If you’ll take a seat, Dr. Brandon will see you in a few minutes.”

Peggy concentrated on the seascape painting across the room, which offered a serene vista of the ocean, a calm she didn’t feel at all.

A door opened, and Dr. Brandon walked out, took her chart from the receptionist and led the way into his examination room. Closing the door gently, he smiled at Peggy as she climbed up onto the exam table. “The spot that was bothering you would seem to be nothing other than irritated tissue.”

Peggy sighed, feeling a huge weight lifting off her shoulders. “Yeah, it started to bother me right after I bought a new bra.” She smiled in relief. “I’m putting it in the trash. To think I frightened myself silly over a bad-fitting bra.”

Dr. Brandon didn’t smile back. “But you can be thankful that it prompted you to look into the problem. I’m afraid that although that spot isn’t a problem, the mammogram did find another area we need to biopsy.” He looked at her chart open in his hands and back at her. “We’ll need to do it right away.”

She hugged her arms against her chest to quell the anxiety racing through her. “When?”

“Tomorrow morning. I’ve scheduled a procedure room at the hospital for eight to do an incisional biopsy. You will need to be off work for a day or two. Can you be there?”

Who would care for her horses? Peggy felt the tears flood her eyes. “I’ll rearrange my schedule,” Peggy said as sadness and worry engulfed her.

Dr. Brandon’s gaze was kind. “This will be a simple procedure. All you need to do is be at the hospital about fifteen minutes before your appointment. I’ll meet you there.”

“Then what?”

“The biopsy tissue will be sent to Portland, to the pathology lab there, and we’ll have the results in a matter of days. In the meantime, I would encourage you not to focus on this too much. I know that’s nearly impossible to do under the circumstances. But look at it this way, if it’s nothing, then it’s over and you can go on with your life. If there is something there, the success rate in treating breast cancer has greatly improved in the past few years. There are support services and groups, as well.” He smiled encouragingly. “You have a lot of good friends who will help you if you should need them.”

She could hardly hear what he was saying. It couldn’t be cancer. She couldn’t face it. She needed time to absorb this, to get her head around the idea that this biopsy would be a turning point in her life regardless of the outcome. Suddenly she wanted her mother. She needed her desperately. Tears surged down her cheeks. “Dr. Brandon. Thank you. I’ll be there tomorrow morning.”

Somehow she had to make it home, to the place she felt safe. She needed to take Zeus out for a long run, to feel the wind in her ears, to know that at least one part of her life hadn’t changed. She would ask Ned to care for her horses, she thought, as tears she couldn’t contain blinded her. She wiped the tears and drove carefully toward home, focusing all her attention on the next few hours, in which she would try her best not to give in to the panic she felt.

* * *

RORY HADN’T HEARD from Peggy today. He missed her. He’d been a little put off by the fact that she hadn’t invited him in after the dance, but he accepted that she needed her space. There would be lots of time for them to get to know one another better. He planned to see her today if he could.

He assumed she would be at work and decided to drop by. When he arrived at her desk, she wasn’t there. Instead, an older woman greeted him. “Do you have a requisition for blood work?” she asked.

“No. I’m looking for Peggy Anderson.”

“She’s taken a day off, I’m afraid. Personal time, I believe,” the woman said, making it clear by the prim set of her lips she planned to say nothing more on the subject of Peggy Anderson.

Was she ill? Had she not been feeling well that night after the dance? He’d never considered that she might have been sick. He’d planned to call her and ask her to go bowling with him tomorrow evening. He knew that Gayle and Sherri both worked in the clinics, and he made his way there as quickly as possible. He saw Gayle at the desk, her eyes on the computer screen in front of her. When he walked up, she stopped and glanced up at him. “Hi, Rory. How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. I’m looking for Peggy.”

“She’s not working today.”

“I know that. I was wondering why she’s taken a day off in the middle of the week.”

“You’ll have to ask her.” Gayle’s smile was kind, but like the woman at Peggy’s desk, she wasn’t forthcoming.

“Thank you.” He headed out to his truck, started it up and drove out of town toward Peggy’s house. She probably wouldn’t want to talk to him, but he had to know that she was all right. She’d been acting strange, and there had to be a reason.

When he pulled in her driveway, he saw her out near the paddock with one of her horses. He jumped out of his truck and walked toward her. “They told me you were off today. I came to see if everything’s all right.”

“Why shouldn’t it be?” she asked, patting the huge horse before turning to him.

The horse gave a snort and galloped off toward the other side of the enclosure. Rory felt his shoulders relax when the horse took off. He wasn’t comfortable around horses. With the horse gone, he’d be able to focus his entire attention on Peggy.

He waited, hoping she’d tell him something. He suddenly felt silly and inappropriate for rushing out here without calling first. “I needed to see you.”

That’s it. Blurt out your feelings.

She smiled at him, but her eyes were wary. “That’s very kind of you. But I don’t need anyone here right now, if you don’t mind.”

He stared at her, at the nervous way she rubbed her palms over the sides of her worn jeans, the way she wouldn’t look at him. Instead, she chewed on her lower lip. There was something going on here, and she wasn’t willing or able to say what it was.

“Look, I didn’t mean to barge in like this. I went to the hospital, and they told me you were home. I was worried. I really enjoyed the dinner and dance the other night. I was hoping we might do something tomorrow. If you’re up to it, that is.”

It was his turn to rub his palms over the sides of his jeans as he waited for her to say something. She didn’t utter a sound as her eyes searched the open field where the horse stood quietly now.

“Look, I can see it was a mistake coming here. Why don’t I call you later, maybe? See if you’re all right...or you call me...or whatever?”

* * *

PEGGY COULDN’T RESIST the look of anguish in his eyes. When she saw his truck pull up in her yard, she’d been prepared to send him away. She didn’t need company right now, but she had to admit it was rather nice to have someone here with her. She’d had a long ride on Zeus and she smelled like it.

Yet he didn’t seem to notice how she smelled. Or more likely Rory was simply being kind. “No, please. I had a good time the other night, as well. I was out for a ride to clear my thoughts.”

The relief in his eyes drew her to him. He was genuinely anxious about her. And he really did want to see her. “If you don’t mind waiting, I need to have a shower and get cleaned up.”

His face broke out in a broad grin. “Yeah. I can wait.” He offered his arm. “Let me escort you. I’ll wait wherever you tell me to wait.”

She giggled. “I think the living room would be good.”

“Or I can make a pot of coffee?” He looked down at her as they walked toward her back door.

“Let me get cleaned up first. Maybe we can have coffee later.”

She left him sitting in the living room. She hurried through a shower, being careful not to touch her right breast. Tomorrow would come soon enough. She put on clean jeans and a T-shirt before heading downstairs. When she reached the bottom step, she could see him peering at her bookshelves filled with books and horse magazines.

“Those were my father’s. He was a chemical engineer, worked for an oil company that took him all over the world.”

He studied her over the book he held open. “So, you’ve traveled all over the world with your family I assume.”

“Yes. When I was in ninth grade, Mom and Dad talked about putting me in a boarding school, to offer me a more stable existence. I was so upset I wrote a long essay on the reasons why I should continue to travel with them, how I’d broaden my horizons, get to learn about the world outside the United States. But I think it was my final argument that won.”

“And what was that?”

“I’d run away if they tried to send me to boarding school. It was the last conversation I had with my father before he left for a business trip to Chile. He didn’t come back. The plane he was in crashed.”

His expression was one of open concern as he put the book down, pulled her into his arms and held her in a way she hadn’t been held before by a man. It felt so perfect, so much like coming home, so safe, she nearly cried out.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair, making her feel cared for and protected.

“Why don’t we sit down, and you can tell me all about your life. You mentioned Haiti,” she said, struggling to recover from the wonderful feelings sliding through her at the way he’d held her. I could get so hooked on this.

He followed her to the sofa. “I thought we were going to talk about you,” he said.

“We will.” She smoothed her hair from her face, her fingers trembling.

“I didn’t make coffee,” he said, sitting down next to her. “Would you like me to?”

“No. I’m fine.”

He looked at her for a few moments, as if he wanted to say something, and changed his mind. “Well, let’s see. I went to Haiti, part of a two-year contract. I’d been asked by a friend to join his team of carpenters going in to do repair work on some buildings damaged by the earthquake and to build new ones where we could.” He twined his fingers together and stared at them before going on. “It was easily one of the most difficult times of my life. And in many other ways it was the most surreal, rewarding, heartbreaking experience I’ve ever had. I can’t explain it. Many people in Haiti need so much, yet the ones I met have spirit and enthusiasm you don’t often find back here at home. We take our lives for granted. We’re so preoccupied with having everything we want. We worry so much about the future. Maybe it’s because their future is so uncertain that they have learned to live in the here and now.”

She watched how he flexed his fingers, especially those on his injured arm. He was struggling not to break down, and she could so relate to that. She’d wanted to have a good cry ever since her visit to Dr. Brandon’s office. “I admire you for being able to do what you did. Many people couldn’t.”

She’d never felt this close to a man before. And in telling her about Haiti, he’d helped her control her worry. Having him here had been a huge benefit, unexpected and wonderful.

“I should have done more.” His jaw worked, he lowered his head and stared at his hands. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t left.”

“Yet you did. You must have needed to come home for some reason. Was your mother in poor health?”

“I’d gone to Haiti after she passed to get a better perspective. My sister wanted me to move to Texas to be near her. I couldn’t imagine myself in Texas.” He glanced at her, his expression one of sadness. “Then I remembered my mother’s stories about her summers in Eden Harbor, and that sort of made the decision for me.”

“You make decisions so easily,” she mused. “I find it difficult to make a decision, especially one that could change my life. But I’m glad you decided to come here. And everyone is singing your praises, even Ned Tompkins. Pleasing Ned isn’t easy,” she said, teasing him just a little bit.

“I do make decisions quickly. But they have mostly worked out...except maybe my year at a summer camp in northern Maine.” He gave a low chuckle. “Let’s not go there for now.” He leaned back and looked at her. “But I didn’t come to talk about me. I came here to talk about you. To see if you were all right.”

“And I am.”

“That’s it?”

As close as she felt to him right now, she couldn’t tell him about her health issue. She had to believe it was simply a scare and would all be over in a matter of days. Besides, the men she’d known wouldn’t be around for long if there was a problem requiring them to do anything. She suspected that Rory wasn’t like that, but she wasn’t willing to take a chance when her life was so uncertain.

For some reason she couldn’t identify, sitting beside him made her feel better about tomorrow morning. Whether it was his upbeat manner or the warmth in his eyes didn’t matter. What mattered was making it through the evening, something she’d rather not do alone. “Yeah, that’s all, unless you want to stick around and help me make dinner.”

* * *

RORY COULDN’T BELIEVE his good fortune. His impetuousness had paid off. “I can’t think of anything I’d like to do better. I’m starving and you must be, too.”

“Then let’s go to the kitchen,” she said, getting up and heading across the room to the door leading to the kitchen.

She got out some pots and pans, took several pieces of haddock from the refrigerator, removed the wrapping and rinsed the fish in the sink. He watched her easy movements. “You cook a lot, I take it,” he said.

“I do. Mostly out of necessity. I’m a little way from town, the restaurants and fast-food places. So, I keep food on hand. I hope you like fish. I could make you a grilled cheese sandwich if you want,” she said, giving him a quick smile.

“No. Fish is great. Can I peel potatoes, cook rice, make a salad?”

“Yes. Rice and a salad would be perfect while you tell me more about Haiti.”

He couldn’t tell her the real reason why he’d come home. He hadn’t told anyone other than a psychologist he’d seen for a short time after he got back. Until he knew Peggy better, he wouldn’t allow himself to confide in her. He didn’t want her to see him as a weak, indecisive man, someone who had allowed his experience in Haiti to determine how he felt about life here in Eden Harbor. He had a good life here, the respect of the locals and was presently sharing the kitchen with a woman who intrigued him. Yet he couldn’t ease the feelings of guilt, the sense that he’d abandoned people who relied on him.

He had so many mixed-up feelings around his time in Haiti. Some good. Some not so good. Yet a part of him wanted to return and finish what he had started. Grant Williams, his team leader, had promised him that he could go back when he was ready. So tempting...until now.

He took the bag of lettuce, the cucumber, celery and tomatoes she gave him and found a knife on the rack next to the stove. “The people I met in Haiti were the friendliest on the planet. So interesting, committed. The friends I made while living in that country will always be a part of my life.”

“Wherever my parents and I lived, we always enjoyed learning about the local culture. It’s amazing how much we can learn from others, about how they live and work.”

“That’s true.” Yet it was more than that for him. He’d been a part of the community. And that acceptance had resulted in him feeling needed and appreciated in ways he’d never experienced before.

They worked alongside each other in silence for a few minutes, he washing vegetables and she working on the rest of the meal. He couldn’t help but notice how easily she battered the fish and put the frying pan on the stove in preparation for cooking the haddock.

“I’d better get going. I don’t want you to have the fish ready before the rice is cooked.”

“I’ll wait for you,” she said. Her glance swept over him, her lips pursed.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“You need an apron.” Pulling one from a hook on the side of the fridge, she then slipped it around his waist and tied the knot for him before putting on an apron herself.

The way she moved to tie the knot, as if they’d been doing this for years, touched something in him. “Thank you,” he said.

“Anytime.”

“Next time it’s my turn.”

“For what?”

“For tying your apron.”

She tucked her chin down in surprise. “I didn’t, did I?”

“You did, and a fine job it was,” he said, thoroughly enjoying her discomfort. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder if she had shared her kitchen with another man, that tying a knot in an apron for a man was something she’d gotten in the habit of doing and not so much something she had done specifically for him.

* * *

SHE HADN’T FELT these feelings before. This sense of connection to someone, the feeling that he would understand should she decide to share her worries. Yet she wasn’t about to do that, especially when she had this deep-down feeling that she might have found a man who had serious potential. She couldn’t risk getting involved with him only to have him walk out on her if she had to face treatment.

She didn’t want to spoil her first real chance in years to have a relationship that might turn into something a lot more. No. Sharing too much this early on about something that might turn out to be nothing at all was hardly the way to hold on to a man who had the potential to be just what she was looking for.

Peggy had never found herself in such a perplexing situation. The men she’d dated had usually bombed out by the time the second date rolled around. Yet Rory’s presence in her life had turned out to be really fun. She was suddenly energized and pleased with everything.

She put her best place mats on the table, and all the while she kept glancing at him, at the way he so skillfully put together the salad. He caught her looking at him and smiled. “Rice?”

“In the long cupboard next to the fridge,” she said.

Too late she realized she’d crammed that cupboard with boxes of cereal and parts of her grocery order she hadn’t found a place for yet. “Whoops!” She watched as cereal boxes tumbled out, landing at his feet. She rushed to scoop them up. “Sorry about that,” she said, gathering up the boxes. Standing close to him with nothing but a couple of flimsy boxes between them, she could feel his heat, see the awareness in his eyes and wanted to jump into his arms. Well, maybe not jump, but certainly get closer to him.

“I’m not sorry,” he said, his voice a slow drawl that played along her spine, a thrill passing through her. She clutched the boxes in her hands as their eyes met. The deepest, bluest eyes she’d ever seen. There was just a hint of stubble on his jaw. She wanted to run her fingers through his sun-bleached hair.

This man was simply too good to be true. There had to be a story here. Where were all the women in his life? No red-blooded woman could resist those eyes. Not a chance.

She pointed to the top cupboard. “The rice would be just over your right shoulder,” she said, her voice sounding breathless in her ears. She put the cereal boxes on the counter and found the rice steamer in the bottom drawer next to the dishwasher, acutely aware that her rear end was sticking up in the air as she fished around the depths of the drawer.

Feeling self-conscious, she rushed to set the table, putting out a bowl of pink peonies she’d cut earlier. By the time she was finished fixing and fretting, her pulse was racing.

“The rice is nearly finished.”

Darn! She’d forgotten to start the fish. “The fish will only take a few minutes,” she said, hurrying back to the kitchen.

He’d already turned on the burner. “Butter?” he asked.

Wordlessly, she pointed to the white butter dish resting near the back of the counter. The man filled her tiny kitchen with his presence, his easy way, his sexy body.

“Now, all we need is music,” he said, maneuvering the frying pan over the hot burner to the sound of sizzling butter.

“What do you like?” she asked.

“When it comes to music, I’m old-fashioned. I was raised on ’60s music, thanks to my mother’s love of it.”

“I like it, too.”

He slid the fish into the frying pan. “Did you get that from your mother, as well?”

“Not really. It’s just great music, the beginnings of today’s more modern, less appealing music.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” He turned those blue eyes on her again and she felt her mouth go dry. “Plates?”

“Oh, yeah.” She went to the cupboard and took out two plates. “I’ll take the salad to the table,” she said, feeling like a teenager suffering through her first crush.

They ate their dinner together, laughed lots to the accompaniment of their favorite music. “I haven’t had this much fun since I came to Eden Harbor,” he said, holding his coffee cup in his hand, his attention on her.

“Me neither.”

He put his cup down and reached across the table, taking her hand in his. “Thank you.”





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