by Cheryl Wyatt
Bri realized with a sickness in her stomach that Ian was crushed with the realization of all he’d lost.
How to give him hope? Would he slip back into full-on brooding? Give himself completely over to it? Or would he open up to the friendship she now desperately wanted to offer?
He’d helped her so much. It was high time he let her help him, too. If nothing more than a shoulder to lean on.
But the stubborn jut to his jaw and the emptiness in his icy aqua-violet eyes, below a hooded, brooding expression, told her that was going to be far easier said than done.
Chapter Eleven
This was not going as planned.
Ian propped his combat boot on his truck runner the next morning and scrubbed his jaw in an effort to rethink everything. Not only was Tia still not adjusting, he was starting to become too drawn to Bri for anyone’s good. Especially Tia’s.
Ian didn’t need anything taking his mind off where his focus should be: rebuilding his relationship with his daughter and taking the best possible care of her.
Unfortunately, Bri’s white-silk hair and cornflower-blue eyes were distracting beyond belief. Attraction he could fight, although the battle might drive him insane. This emotional draw to Bri wasn’t easy to contend with. Thoughts of her were constantly bombarding his mind.
Hopefully, it just had to do with her confident ability to help Tia. Not to mention she’d had a similar childhood. Perhaps his feelings were merely empathetic. Because nothing else would do.
A tap at his truck door drew his attention. “Hey, Kate.”
She jogged up. “Get any rest after the traumas last night?”
“Not really.” He kept his voice low, because Bri’s cabin sat one hill over. “This the one you picked out?” Ian said when Kate approached the cabin he’d begun applying inside trim to.
“Yeah.”
“Sorry you’re having to do so much extra work at the trauma center, Kate. You and the rest of the crew. But no one anticipated the center becoming this busy this soon.”
“No one minds. You and Mitch gave us secure, well-paying jobs with benefits, both of which are hard for vets to find. I’m surprised you’re out here this early.” She eyed her watch, then the dark violet sky. It was still oh-dark-thirty. Not yet sunup.
“Tia woke up crying over her mom and asked to come to Bri’s early. Bri was awake and happy to see Tia.”
Ian ground his knuckles into his sockets to rub out sleep, and the effigy of Bri’s eyes, which were the blueprint for beauty.
After offering commiseration, Kate said, “I gotta finish my run. See ya later.” Kate took off along the lakeside path. Ian walked the woodsy path to the next cabin.
Cicadas seemed the only thing awake at this hour. He slowed his pace to absorb his surroundings. Drew deep whiffs of fresh air. Loved the lush beauty even in winter. The humidity of predawn dew. The deep peace and abiding quiet of morning. Those hours when everything seemed to slumber in unison.
The gentle stir as the sun rose to woo the world awake. Mitch told them on the battlefield that Southern Illinois sunrises and sunsets were splendorous to behold. Not until moving here did Ian fully see. He loved to step out the center’s side door to watch the sun’s magnificent rise over Eagle Point Lake after long nights. This place were therapeutic.
He could think of nowhere better to raise his little girl than Eagle Point. Although neighboring Refuge was equally family oriented, it wasn’t close enough to the trauma center. Ian did love going there to visit Lauren’s grandfather, Lem.
Ian approached his truck and hauled more hand tools from the diamond plate industrial box from where he’d been working for a couple hours this morning.
“G’morning,” a breathless voice sounded behind him.
He turned to find Bri leaning into a jogger’s stretch with his daughter piggybacked over her shoulders and Mistletoe nestled in her sling. With her broken arm. Ian shook his head. “No wonder Caleb told me to keep an eye on you.”
Her hair waged a wrestling match with a lopsided sapphire ponytail band. Flushed cheeks shone through side-swept bangs. Bri’s shoes were the type professional runners used. Bri squatted to let Tia slide off her back. Ian appreciated how fit she was.
She’d bundled Tia in gloves and a coat. Today’s temps had risen but not enough to melt all the snow. More flakes were forecast.
Ian set his power saw down. “Everything okay?” He really didn’t want them in his work space. Too distracting.
“We came to see if you needed anything.” She handed Tia a fairy-decorated water bottle, one of two clipped to Bri’s trim waist. Tia sipped and dashed under a picnic table to play. Bri faced the lake. “It’s beautiful here this time of morning.”
His breath almost caught, too. But not because of morning. Her silhouette at sunup would be a portrait painter’s dream.
“It’s beautiful here anytime. But especially at sunup and sundown.” And especially with Bri outlined against the sleepy blue lake. Lovely figure. He looked away, with extreme effort.
She pivoted. “You want to watch the sunrise with me?”
Because he very much did want to, he put his best scowl forward. “No. As you can see, I have work to do.”
Her smile faded. “I’ll come back with Tia and help with cleanup as soon as we take Mistletoe back for his nap in a bit.”
He grunted. “I didn’t say you had to help. I can manage this part by myself. Others are coming later, too.”
Her forehead dipped in such a way she resembled a rodeo bull ruminating a horns-first charge. “I can help.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“It’s my cabin.” Her good hand jammed her hip. Okay. So she could be as stubborn as him. Ian swiveled away. He pulled a broken window screen. It stuck.
Bri, emitting cute little scoffing noises, tromped to help but must’ve realized she couldn’t with one arm. She walked over to where Tia played fort under a picnic table with Mistletoe. Bri smiled at the pair, then refaced the lake.
Eyes flitting his way, her face tensed. Was she resisting the urge to whack him? Or simply struggling with her inability to help work on cabins? She intently watched the sky turn vivid colors, her face transforming under a bright orange-and-baby-blue-streaked sunrise. Ian tried not to notice how beautiful she was. He forced himself not to engage her in conversation, either.
Bri suddenly stomped close. “Why are you in such a sour mood?”
Tia’s mom promised her she’d call last night and didn’t.
Ian had been in a foul mood since. Not to Tia. She wouldn’t have noticed, anyway. She’d ignored him like a piece of broccoli in an enemy’s tooth. Not to mention the battle over real broccoli last night. Not even melted cheese enticed Tia to eat the vegetables she pushed away like a plate of worms.
She’d thrown in Ian’s face that her mom never made her eat broccoli. The nice dinner he’d planned? Turned to total disaster in front of an entire ritzy restaurant because of a phone call that never happened. Tia had convinced herself it was Ian’s fault.
Then somehow, he did, too.
“Ian? Is everything okay?” Bri drew near. Too close. He almost softened to unload everything on her. He made a colossal effort to keep his mouth—and heart—shut.
After an eternal moment, she stepped gingerly back. “Okay, well...I’m here if you need to talk.”
Silence. For the longest, most agonizing seconds, he didn’t budge. Then just when he thought the emotional coast was clear, she moved like an automatic bullet to stand behind him. So close, her presence felt like warm whispers against his back. He kept his head down and his spine to her, because if he saw the kindness in her face, he’d cave.
After long, tense moments, he felt her presence wane again.
He fought against the urgency to reac
h out, to accept the friendship she offered. If divorce hadn’t sufficiently convinced him that would be the second stupidest move he could ever make, he might’ve done so. But no. Too risky.
He’d rather forfeit friendship than prosper pain.
And the romance his mom kept hinting at? Not even on his radar. It had taken too big a bite out of his heart once to make him want to try again.
With Bri out of sight, his head cleared enough to focus on sawing damaged areas of structure without cutting himself.
After a while, Bri and Tia brought out two cups of coffee. The one she drank out of was dainty and had a chip in it. In fact, she drank out of that one every time he’d seen her.
“It was Mom’s favorite,” she said when she caught him staring at it. He nodded, resisting the urge to chat. When she talked, he became mesmerized.
“Is black coffee okay?”
“I prefer cream and sugar,” he said stiffly.
She smirked. “I’m more than happy to oblige.”
“What’s that mean?” And why was she snickering?
She whirled gracefully. “Maybe the sugar will sweeten you up.” She grinned when she said it.
He returned to ripping off old wood with fervor. Irritation for not knowing how to handle his emotions accosted him. Feeling seemed too raw and risky right now. He didn’t want to feel anything. Period.
Well, except the ends of her silky hair that tumbled down her back as she released her ponytail just now.
That’s it. Ian stepped onto another portion of scaffolding that would put her completely out of view.
A yip sounded nearby. Bri though, not the dog. Tia giggled as Mistletoe chewed the tendon on the back of Bri’s ankle. Ian watched the pup’s antics and bit back a grin. He refused to have fun today. Fun created a bond he couldn’t deal with. Not with the argument with Tia’s mom last night fresh on his mind. Ava refused to give reasons or apologize for not calling Tia as promised. And she’d declined to speak to Tia when he called.
Women broke promises. They didn’t honor commitments.
He studied Bri and didn’t give himself the opportunity to consider otherwise. To do so would cheat Tia out of the full concentration of his heart. Shame on him for noticing anything appealing about Bri. But even wearing a camouflage sweatshirt, she was beautiful.
The rest of the day, Ian put his full effort into renovating the cabin...and ignoring this ridiculous attraction to Bri.
* * *
The next morning, Bri watched Ian step into the cabin. Tia sat stiffly in his arms with red, blotchy eyes. Clearly, there had been a tantrum this morning.
Ian set her down in Bri’s front room and tried to help her off with her coat. Tia jerked away. Ian’s jaw clenched. He eyed his watch. “I needed to check a patient two minutes ago.”
Bri swarmed in. “Go. I’ll take over.”
“Thanks. Bye, Tia. See you in a bit. Love you.”
Her answer was a scowl. Until he was out of sight, at which time she ran to the window with wistful, sorry eyes. Proving to Bri that Tia loved him, after all.
A few hours later, Tia leaped from their puzzle, and gasped. “It’s snowing again! Can we play in it? And take Mistletoe?”
“For a bit.” Bri bundled Tia in gloves, hat and her coat.
They played in the snow until Ian pulled up in his truck. He approached Tia, who pointed to Mistletoe.
“The puppy doesn’t like snow. It sticks to his feet and his belly and he tries to eat it,” Tia said matter-of-factly to her dad. So whatever rift they’d had this morning must’ve waned.
Mistletoe’s tail wriggled and he tried to run toward Ian, who looked regretful for not engaging the pup. To Bri’s, and Tia’s, delight, Ian scooped up the pup. “If this keeps up, we’ll need to get you a doggie snowsuit, little guy.” Ian scratched the dog behind the ears, then snuggled him in his jacket so only his face poked out the top of Ian’s coat zipper.
Bri grabbed her phone, because this picture was too cute to miss. “That is adorable, Ian.” She went to pet the dog and caught whiffs of Ian’s cologne. Her knuckles accidentally brushed his chest, causing his breathing rhythm to hitch.
He broke the connection by stepping back. But space didn’t dissipate warmth wafting off his tanned neck that reminded her of a cozy fireplace. Or dampen the image of a chest developed by hard work and disciplined exercise. And most certainly didn’t wipe the memory of the flicker of awareness in his eyes.
“I came bearing good news this time.” He smiled wryly. “Mitch hired a new anesthesiologist.” He knelt in front of Tia. “Which means I’ll be taking more time off to spend with you.”
Tia’s eyes brightened, then were beset by a scowl. “But I’m still mad at you about Mommy.”
What did that mean? Bri wondered.
Ian didn’t comment. “Would you like to meet the new doctor? She was hired today, and I start training her tomorrow. She’s from very far away, so we should make her feel welcome.”
“Can we take her cookies, Miss Bri?”
Bri felt a ripple of...something. Couldn’t be jealousy, right? She had not staked a claim on Ian. Bri groaned inwardly. “I’ll get the cookies.” She dashed in. When she returned, Tia and Ian put twig arms in the snowmen she and Tia had built. Bri smiled.
Ian stood on her approach. “Ready?” They walked together across the lot. Ian asked Tia for the third time if she wanted him to carry her. She pulled away sharply when he tried to take her hand or pick her up, proving Tia was still upset over something, probably Ava. Bri’s heart broke for them.
With Tia surging a few steps ahead, Bri lagged behind to squeeze Ian’s arm to infuse strength. It backfired, because what she felt under his shirt was a pile of muscles that made her knees weak. Lord, I need to get out more and date. Who was she kidding? She barely had time to daydream, much less make one come true.
“So, this new doctor...where’s she from exactly?”
“Alaska. Her brother’s in the coast guard there.” Ian scratched his jaw as if determining how much to say. “Apparently she’s just endured the loss of her marriage and another tragedy. I’m not sure if she’s a recent widow or divorcée or what. She’s young, though, for a doctor.” Ian faced Bri with a meaningful look. “It seems I have you to thank for bringing her here.”
“Me? Why? How?”
“Whatever she went through caused her to need to leave her area. That’s the idea Mitch got while interviewing her. She’d been looking for a place far from home and the hardship she endured there. She answered a physician recruiter ad for our trauma center. She researched us, then Eagle Point’s history. She’s been accessing the town news feed.”
“You mean the Four Guys, a Dog and a Blog feed?”
“Yes. When she read about how the town came together to save your lodge and other things, she booked the next flight out.”
“Not even knowing if Mitch would hire her?”
“She said regardless of whether she got a job at EPTC, she’d commute as far as St. Louis if she had to. She felt drawn to the area, especially since Refuge claims to live up to its name and Eagle Point is a haven of the same magnitude.”
Bri didn’t like the little niggles of sourness hitting her with Ian’s excitement. Good grief. No way was she jealous.
Not until she stepped inside the nurses’ station and saw how movie-star glamorous the new anesthesiologist was.
And Ian would be training her and working with her. Ugh.
Bri needed to get a grip. It wasn’t as if she had feelings for Ian or anything. So why this sense of panic?
Mitch ushered the sophisticated doctor toward them. “This is Bri and Tia, Ian’s daughter. Meet Dr. Lockwood.”
“Please, call me Clara.” The stunning woman approached. Held Bri’s gaze, then Tia’s as she gracefully
knelt. “Are those for me?”
Tia pressed the cookies in the doctor’s hand. “Yes, ma’am.”
The beautiful doctor smiled fondly at Ian. Too fondly. “Your dad’s been telling me all about you and what a good little baker you are. Thank you very much for the cookies.” She took a bite. “They’re the best I’ve ever tasted.”
Bri grit her teeth. Caught Kate watching her over the desk. Bri averted her gaze. When Bri looked back up, Ian was watching her, too. Bri snapped herself out of it and put on a happy face. She reached out her hand. “I’m Bri. Welcome to Eagle Point.”
The doctor’s kind smile and warm handshake made Bri feel bad about the snarky thoughts flying through her head.
“Is that your little girl?” Tia brushed fingers along a silver locket pin resting over the doctor’s heart.
No way did Bri miss the pain flashing across the astute doctor’s eyes. She clutched the locket and knelt in front of Tia. “Yes.” Her voice all but fractured.
Ian’s gaze sharpened, as did Kate’s and Mitch’s.
“Can I play with her?”
The doctor brushed trembling fingers over Tia’s cheek and struggled to speak for a moment. “I sure wish you could.” Convulsive swallows shone in her throat. “But, she went to go live in heaven a couple of months ago.” The doctor smiled kindly, but tears swam in her eyes. Bri found herself tearing up, too.
The dispatch alarm toned an incoming trauma. The new doctor’s face livened with relief. She stepped back and cast embarrassed, apologetic glances all around. The crew offered graceful nods and compassionate, reassuring looks, clearly all hearts going out to her. Though everyone undoubtedly wondered, no one asked about the recent trauma that took her daughter’s life. Dr. Lockhart moved next to Ian as though he were a harbor.
Lauren brought a note to the doctors. “Ambulance two minutes out.” Ian, somber, eyed the note, then Bri.
Bri picked up Tia. “We should go before that comes in.”
Ian nodded, studying her like a hawk. Bri waved nonchalantly and avoided Kate, who was trying to intercept her on the way out. This was nonsense. She felt nothing for Ian. So why did the new doctor being so pretty make her feel so threatened?
