Then There Was You

by Miranda Liasson

  “Now I know why my father didn’t have a partner all these years. He doesn’t want a partner. He doesn’t want an interloper in his practice.”

  “Your dad’s got to know you’re an awesome doctor.” Kaitlyn banged something around behind the counter that indicated she was making some kind of fancy drink. “You even got that fancy award last year for being the most outstanding resident before you graduated. What was that called again? The Doppelganger Award or something?”

  “Hopplebauer Award. And it doesn’t matter. No award in the world can prove my worth to my father.”

  “So melodramatic,” Kaitlyn said. She looked over Sara’s shoulder. “Oh, hi, Colton,” Kaitlyn said brightly, outing him for good. “Your usual?”

  Sara’s head bolted upright.

  “The usual’s great, thanks,” he said. No use pretending he hadn’t just heard everything. He turned to Sara. “Rough morning?”

  “Go on. Just…say it,” she said. “Hit me with it.”

  “With what?”

  “Some snide remark. Some snippy comment. Remind me of all my faults and inadequacies. I’m ready.”

  “I was just going to say that you’re a good doctor and…and it’s going to be OK.”

  “No advice? Platitudes? An I-told-you-so or a You-better-go-back-to-your-Ivy-League-world?”

  He wasn’t going to do that. Or do something to get her spine prickled, like ask her how that loser date had been last weekend. Because he already knew. Rafe had told him all about the microbiologist and his fascination with killer bacteria.

  This time, Colton dug down deep and tried to be something he hadn’t been so far. A friend. Call him crazy, but when she’d come after him at Lou’s and accused him of being insulting…Well. Maybe she was right. He could tone it down a little.

  “Your dad’s really respected around here. People say he takes the time to talk to them, unlike all the docs who are watching the clock and try to get in and out like seeing patients is some kind of race. It’s just that anyone who’s been at a job for that long is going to have certain…ideas that are resistant to change.”

  “Like ingrown toenails,” Kaitlyn said. “Completely embedded.”

  “Thanks for the gross visual,” Sara said.

  “Hey, you’re the doctor,” Kaitlyn said, passing Colton a big cup of coffee with a lid on it. “I was just trying to use an example you can relate to.”

  Sara threw up her hands. “My dad’s still using paper records. And manual blood pressure cuffs. The EKG machine has one strip, like a grocery store cash register receipt. And they might still be killing rabbits for the pregnancy tests for all I know.”

  Kaitlyn’s eyes went wide. “They used to do that?”

  “Yeah. In 1960,” Sara said.

  “Here you go,” Kaitlyn said, handing Sara her coffee. “I put an extra shot of espresso in that, by the way.”

  “I love you,” Sara said. Her phone went off with a text, and she set down her cup on the counter to pull it out of her purse. “I have to run. See you later. Thanks for the help. I think.” Sara blew Kaitlyn a kiss, gave Colton a quick wave, and left.

  Well. The first interaction in a week where she hadn’t threatened to kill him. Things were looking up.

  “It’ll get better,” Kaitlyn said, pulling a big tray of freshly iced cinnamon buns off a shelf behind her.

  He leaned his arm against the bakery case. “Yeah. New-job problems.”

  Kaitlyn held out the tray of cinnamon buns. “Actually, I was talking about you, Colty. These are still warm, by the way. Want one?”

  The scent of warm cinnamon rolls was already permeating the whole shop, making his mouth water. Colton took one. “If you don’t call me that, sure, I’d love one. But I’m not sure I’m following you.”

  Kaitlyn shrugged. “Any bad blood between you two is none of my business. But don’t think I can’t see that I-want-to-eat-you-for-breakfast way you look at her. Plus it’s getting exhausting pretending I hate you too.”

  Colton narrowed his eyes. “Why are you suddenly on my side?”

  “I happen to know you’re a nice guy. Not that you used to be, though. Of course, Sara hasn’t forgotten that.”

  No, she hadn’t. He wasn’t the same jerk he’d been in high school, but she still thought he was, and it seemed at times he couldn’t help feeding into that. It was just that Sara seemed to be able to push all his buttons. Remind him that he was a small-town cop in the same town where he’d lived for half his life. He didn’t have her grand aspirations and dreams—mostly because he’d had an obligation to do what was right, take care of his family. Work to give Hannah the choices he’d never gotten. But it niggled—had he settled?

  “Oh, look. It’s your lucky day,” Kaitlyn said, nudging her head toward the top of the bakery case.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Sara forgot her coffee. And if anyone needs coffee today, it’s her, right?”

  He took the cup. “I’m going that way anyway. See you around, Kaitlyn.”

  “Hey, ladies,” Colton said a few minutes later, resting his elbows on the windowsill in the Langdons’ office and peering at Leonore and Glinda through the glass. “How’s it going?” No sign of Sara. Looked like she was already back at work. He should just leave the cup and go, but that perverse part of him that seemed to totally enjoy getting himself into trouble spoke up.

  “How’s Sara getting along?”

  “Oh, hello, Chief,” Glinda said, sliding open the window. “Well, she’s a sweetheart, always has been. But Doctor’s set in his ways. It’s hard for him, after working alone all these years.”

  Leonore pulled off her giant earphones. “Whew-y! That Sara sure talks a lot when she dictates her charts. Lord, my fingers are going to fall off from all this transcribing.”

  Glinda laughed. “That’s because Doctor barely says anything at all, just ‘normal exam.’”

  “Well, Dr. Sara includes every body part in her physicals. And the tests she orders! I haven’t heard of half of ’em!”

  Colton smiled. “Sounds like Sara’s just what this office needs. Like getting a big gust of fresh air in here.”

  “Why Chief Walker, are you sweet on her?” Leonore asked.

  “Absolutely not.” He shoved the coffee cup closer to the window. “Sara forgot this at the Bean. And I’m—um—here to get my stitches out. Sara told me I could just stop by sometime and I’ve been so busy I keep forgetting. But if now’s not a good time—” Oh, hell, what was he doing? He hadn’t intended to get his stitches out right now. Guess he’d panicked a little. He certainly didn’t want them to think he’d gone out of his way on Sara’s account.

  Glinda immediately disappeared into the back, then reappeared a minute later to open the door to the waiting room. “Come on back, sweetie. Doctor can see you now. He said no need to wait for Sara. He’s got a couple of minutes.”

  A strange wave of disappointment washed over Colton, which he quickly brushed off as he made his way to an exam room. Had he actually been looking forward to sparring with her over his suture removal? Her father would be the saner choice. Plus he wouldn’t have to worry about getting another shot in the ass.

  “Well, hello there, son.” Dr. Langdon said, pulling his bifocals down his nose and rolling a stool up to the exam table where Colton sat. “Let’s have a look.” The older doctor inspected his arm. “Sara did a nice job with these. Everything looks well healed.”

  “Yes, sir.” As the doctor tore open the suture removal kit, Colton asked, “What’s it like having your daughter here working with you?” Why don’t you just keep your mouth shut and get your sutures out? a voice in his head said. He was never good at listening to voices of authority anyway.

  “Oh, it’s fantastic. I’m so proud of her,” Dr. Langdon said as he snipped a suture. “I just fear we may not have her here with us for very long. She’s destined for things more prestigious than a family medical practice in a tiny town like ours.”

  Tiny
town. Right. Sara wouldn’t be hanging around here for very long, that was for sure. “You ever tell her that—how proud you are of her?”

  He paused with his instruments in midair. “Excuse me, son?”

  Oh boy, he was really overstepping now, yet he couldn’t seem to stop his mouth. “Oh, just that maybe she needs to hear that. I mean, I imagine working with your dad is a great thing, but it can be a little stressful too, especially in the beginning. Everyone has to be a little flexible, which is hard after doing things the same way for so long—and everybody needs to know they’re wanted, right?”

  Dr. Langdon raised a thick gray brow. “Yes, well, sure. Are you implying that my daughter doesn’t feel that she’s wanted here?”

  “No, sir, I’m not saying that. It’s just that I could understand how she might feel you might not want a partner to interfere with your way of doing things.”

  Dr. Langdon chuckled. “Sara’s made a decision I don’t necessarily agree with. I respect her wanting to come back home to be with her grandmother, but I disagree with her delaying her fellowship training to do it. She’s meant to do greater things than Angel Falls can offer.”

  The doctor sat back and cleared away his instruments. “There you go, Chief, good as new.”

  “Thank you.” OK, this discussion was done and Colton had clearly overstepped his bounds. Plus Dr. Langdon had just echoed what he’d known all along—Sara wasn’t here to stay. This town was just a tiny pit stop in a life full of bigger things. Harvard, Mayo Clinic—who knew what would be next? He jumped down off the table, inspecting his arm. “Oh, I was talking to the firefighters,” he said. “We’d like to have a medical person come in and talk to both departments about our protocols for Narcan use during our drug overdose runs. Would you be able to help us out?”

  They walked together out of the room, stopping beside the reception area. “I think that might be something Sara would jump at the chance to do.”

  “Did you just sign me up for something?” Sara asked as she flew by. She halted in her tracks just in front of Colton. “Colton! What are you doing here?”

  “He brought your coffee,” Leonore said, putting her cup up on the counter. “Wasn’t that a sweet gesture?”

  “Sweet,” Sara said, looking at him with a puzzled expression. She was standing close enough that he could see the light smattering of freckles she’d tried to cover with makeup but hadn’t quite succeeded. Her scent wafted over to him, a fresh, light vanilla, like a cupcake straight from the oven. All that wondrous hair of hers was pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail, which left an expanse of creamy white skin exposed on her neck. Pretty. He had a sudden urge to reach over and place his lips on it.

  No, no, no. “You forgot it,” he said. “At the coffee shop.”

  “Oh, thank you.” She took a sip and smiled. He must’ve been an idiot all these years, making her frown instead of flash that smile.

  “Your dad took my stitches out,” he said, holding out his arm. “All healed.” Now he was acting like an idiot. “Anyway, have a nice day.”

  “Thanks. You too.” As Colton turned to leave, he heard Sara ask, “What happened to Larry Crosby, Leonore? I swear he was in the waiting room a minute ago.”

  “Oh, we were a little backed up, so I told him he could run and get his hair cut, as long as he came back in about a half hour.”

  Sara’s gaze drifted over to his. He caught her incredulous look and worked hard to suppress a chuckle. She grabbed her coffee and took a big swig. When she looked up, her mouth was turned up in the tiniest smile, like they’d just shared a private joke. “Thanks again for the coffee, Colton,” she said.

  “Hey, no problem,” he said. But inside he had a growing feeling that it was.

  * * *

  Yep, she’d really needed that coffee. And Colton had delivered it, with a smile. Without a gotcha. Yet.

  Sara realized she’d been standing near the reception desk, staring at the closed door.

  Leonore cleared her throat, making Sara snap to attention.

  Glinda inclined her head toward the exam rooms. “I heard Chief Walker in there just now talking to your father. He was defending you.”

  “Defending me?” What on earth…?

  “Yeah. He said your dad should tell you how proud he is of you because people need to hear that. Isn’t that sweet?”

  Sara blanched. What was worse, she wondered, the fact that the staff was eavesdropping on private patient conversations or the fact that Colton had felt a need to intervene with her father? She wasn’t going to earn her father’s respect by having someone else fight her battles.

  And why on earth would Colton suddenly stick up for her, anyway? It was unnatural. Like just now, when he hadn’t even drilled her with his usual smart-ass comment. Just grinned that unholy grin and sauntered out. Leaving her with cappuccino and a dumb smile on her face.

  “I hate to say it,” Leonore said solemnly, “but I think Chief’s got a crush on you.”

  “What?” Sara said. “No way. That’s ridiculous.”

  “Yep,” Leonore said. “He brought your coffee. And he didn’t even have an appointment to get those stitches out.”

  “He’s like the boy in grade school who pulls the little girl’s braids,” Glinda said. “She thinks he doesn’t like her, but it’s just the opposite.”

  “It had better not be the opposite,” Sara’s father said, suddenly materializing at the counter. “That boy’s a good police chief, but he’s not marriage material. Now don’t we have some patients to see, ladies?”

  Sara winced for what felt like the thirtieth time that day. She had enough problems—she could not let runaway speculation about Colton or her personal life be one of them. Grabbing a chart and heading to a room, she was more than happy to get back to work.

  Several hours later, she felt a hand on her shoulder—her dad’s. “Hey, pumpkin, it’s quitting time. You’ve officially made it through your first two weeks.”

  Sara looked at the clock. Nearly seven. Seven o’clock! No one here seemed to think an eleven-hour workday was unusual.

  “Rachel just called,” her dad said. “Gabby’s friend Malcolm is in town. She wants us all to meet for dinner at Giuseppe’s. Can you come? Say around eight-ish? You can ride with us.”

  Giuseppe’s was the world’s most wonderful restaurant, the place where the family often celebrated big events, but Sara was dead on her feet. “I’m going to stop at home,” she told her dad. “I’ll meet you at the restaurant.” She said good night to the ladies and walked out into the golden summer evening. Except her steps didn’t walk her toward home.

  She couldn’t have the ladies in the office gossiping about the possibility of a romance between her and Colton. People would overhear and it would be all around town faster than you could say happy hour specials at Lou’s. And she didn’t want Colton interfering in her business with her father—no matter that he was actually being nice for once, for God’s sake.

  There was no time like the present to shut this rumor mill down quick. The irony was not lost on her that now that Colton had finally done something nice, she was going to tell him to back off.

  Chapter 9

  Sara walked into the main room of the tidy white-brick police station where the full-time deputy, Evan Marshall, was talking on the phone. “Chief Walker’s off duty now, Mrs. Robertson, but I’m happy to come by. So Mr. Clinton’s dog pooped on your lawn again?”

  Evan looked up and waved. He was an eager twenty-three-year-old, but to her he still looked like the freckled little kid she used to babysit. Except he never had outgrown that gun fetish of his. He was sitting behind one of three desks and a console with more blinking lights than the starship Enterprise. She made out a police radio, two printers, and a big black scanner with red lights scrolling maniacally back and forth.

  Just then Colton leaned into the room, stretching his arms over his head on the door frame between the main room and his office and suppressing a yawn. He ha
d dark circles under his eyes. His gray uniform shirt was a little rumpled, and there was a giant grass stain on the thigh of his uniform pants. (How did a person even get a grass stain there?) All of which led her to believe maybe he’d had sort of a not-great day too. Which suddenly made her feel awful about coming here to give him grief about being nice to her.

  Evan covered the phone receiver with his palm and spoke to Colton. “Louise Robertson’s insisting on talking with you.”

  “Tell her I’ll stop by on my way home,” Colton said.

  “I can take care of this, Chief. It’s just dog poop, and you were supposed to be out of here an hour and a half ago.”

  Colton shook his head. “Harry Clinton needs to step up his game. When’s he going to learn that having his dog poop in the yard of the widow he wants to ask out on a date isn’t going to get him anywhere?”

  He chuckled. That small bit of laughter changed his entire face, took it from simply ho-hum handsome to please-be-the-father-of-my-children devastating. Sara’s stomach catapulted. Heat spread through her abdomen, rushed into her cheeks, weakened her knees.

  Settle down, ovaries. It was just the Colton Effect. Which was impacting her due to the fact that it had been a year since she’d had any physical contact with a man. So there.

  The moment he saw her, his hands dropped from the door frame and he stood up straight, cracking his knuckles—nervously? Nah, Colton Walker didn’t do nervous. She was the one who was struggling to keep it together right now.

  “Sara, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?” He sounded—concerned.

  In fact, he’d sounded concerned a lot lately. Starting when her grandmother got lost and continuing through today at the coffee shop. And again at the office.

  A ball of guilt suddenly lodged in her throat.

  She swallowed it down. Reminded herself that he was the same person who’d sat in speech class sophomore year during her inspirational speech on finding your passion and mimicked everything she’d said; who’d been kissing Stacey Prescott in the hallway and said to Sara, who must’ve been staring, “Like what you see, Langdon?” And laughed. Who’d kissed her one time—once—and never spoken of it again. And literally looked at her in annoyance and disgust for years afterward.