by Teresa Hill
"Good."
She could feel him watching her, waiting... For her to say something about last night? She didn't know where to start.
The silence dragged on.
Finally, he said, "If this guy offers you a job, he's going to want to know if you're going to stay awhile. What are you going to tell him?"
"Well, Emma thought his first worry was about finding someone quickly who knew the town and could get them through the festival. That's only two and a half months' work."
"And that's okay with you? Being here that long?"
Honestly, she hadn't been sure until this very moment.
"You're here," she said. "And Peter's here. That seems to outweigh anything else, like the fact that my parents are here or that they're in jail."
He nodded, putting on his lawyer face, which tended to hide everything. "Good."
"I'm not going to run away, Zach. Promise."
The lawyer nodded once more.
"Are you okay?" she asked. "Did something happen?"
"I freaked out on your back porch last night and scared you half to death, Julie. I'm trying to figure out how you feel about that. About me." And he was nervous about that, despite the reassurances of the night before.
She found herself falling even more for him. Zach, the man who was so sure of himself and capable of handling anything she threw at him, was something to behold. But this man, the one who honestly needed her... He'd tapped right into her heart from the very first moment.
She put her hand over the lapels of the expensive suit he wore with such ease and grace, running through the possible responses she could make. It had to be honest. He'd demand that. He deserved it. And she wanted to reassure him. But her feelings were an awful jumble.
"It surprised me," she admitted.
"Shocked you is more like it."
"Okay, yes. That you could—"
"Wrap my hands around a man's neck and squeeze?"
"A little. But given who it was... Zach, there were times I wished something would happen to my stepfather. Even to my mother. Times when I was so sick of the chaos and of being scared... I'm not going to condemn you for wanting to hurt him."
"And the other?"
She sighed and put her hand against his chest, thinking about him struggling to breathe and being afraid he was going to fall apart, wanting a drink. "I'm worried about you. I never really did before. I always thought you were invincible."
"Well, I'm not," he said, and she knew what it cost him to admit that.
Julie nodded, pressing a little kiss to his chest, through his shirt. "But... nobody really is invincible, right? I mean, it's not such a shock, is it?"
He shook his head. "Was to me."
And she laughed a bit, lifted her head and kissed his mouth ever so lightly. "But Emma said you could be fixed, right?"
"We'll see. I have an appointment with a colleague of hers this morning."
The lawyer was still here, poker-faced. Was his appointment supposed to shock her? That he was seeing someone for help? "I'm glad."
"Glad?"
"That there's someone who can help you. That you're going to let them. You are going to let them, aren't you?"
"I don't think I have a choice," he said.
"It's not that bad, is it?"
He shook his head. "It's sure not anyplace I ever thought I'd be. Sitting down with a shrink, whining about my life."
"It's not whining when it can keep you from breathing, Zach. It's serious, and you have to let them help you. You have to promise me that."
"I want my life back. I plan to give it my best shot."
She frowned. "I don't know what I'm seeing here. Is this your ego that's been dented?"
"Maybe," he admitted.
"Are you embarrassed?"
"Could be."
"You think you're not allowed to need help?" she asked.
"You told me I was, so it must be true, right?"
But she still didn't think she'd gotten to the bottom of it. People did have prejudices about those who needed this kind of help. Skeptics thought therapy didn't do anything for anybody. Some thought therapy was for whiners and those who wanted to blame others for their problems.
"Nervous?" she asked.
"Yeah."
Or maybe he was scared. Maybe all those things. She ought to be able to help him with scared. She knew all about being scared.
Julie was trying to figure out a way to broach that subject when his father and Rye came back into the kitchen. She stepped away from Zach, but not before the two of them saw her in his arms. Julie turned her back to them, found coffee mugs and poured two cups.
They sat at the kitchen table to give her a quick rundown on everything that was wrong and what they thought the property was worth—enough to cover all the outstanding mortgages with a little bit extra left over, which she found too much of a coincidence to believe.
"We'll have to talk to your parents. It's really their decision," Zach said.
"Sure. But I want you to promise me one thing. I want the house appraised, and I want you to swear not to pay them a dime more than it's worth."
The three of them frowned at her. No one said anything.
"What? Is that so unreasonable?" she asked.
"No. That's fine," Sam said, holding out his hand to her.
She shook hands with both of them, thanked them for coming, and then was left alone with Zach once again. She eyed him suspiciously.
"What?" he asked.
"What is this place really worth?"
"You heard them. They made you an offer."
"A generous one, I suspect."
"Hey, you want the place appraised, we'll get it appraised."
"Not that I don't appreciate what you're trying to do. But I'm not taking your money, Zach. Or theirs. It's sweet of you to try, but it's too much."
"They want the house, Julie."
"If you say so."
"And I don't lie, remember?"
"Not even to help me?"
He frowned at that, weighing his options for an answer carefully.
"Never mind," she said. "What time is your appointment?"
"Soon."
Then, because he looked so alone and because she didn't know what else to do, she said, "I have some time. I'm going that way. It's a nice day. Want to walk?"
"You're going to walk me to the office? The way my mother walked me into the elementary school on the first day of kindergarten?"
"I'm nervous about my job interview, and I thought you'd walk with me," she said.
"You're the one who's nervous?"
She nodded.
"You know, we could always skip both of our appointments and go back to bed," he suggested.
"True. Or we could each go to our appointments and still have time to go back to bed before Peter gets home."
"All right. Deal."
She grabbed her purse and her keys and locked the door, and they took off together. It was a nice day. They walked without saying anything, and soon she slipped her hand into his, relaxing a bit as his fingers closed over hers.
They got to the office and stopped outside on the sidewalk. He did seem nervous. Peter had been, too, and he hadn't let her do anything for him.
"Come on," she said, opening the door with one hand, keeping hold of Zach with the other. "I'm going to be early, and you are, too. I'll sit with you."
His look said he saw right through her and he really didn't appreciate how well she was doing that at the moment. But he didn't let go of her hand.
They got the requisite abundance of forms from the receptionist, and she led him to the corner Peter had picked out when he was intent on hiding.
"I should have asked Peter for pointers," Zach whispered. "Did you get anything out of him about it?"
"He hated it," she admitted. "But then, he hates most everything these days, so I'm not sure if you should consider his opinion on the matter."
Zach filled out all the forms and ret
urned them to the receptionist, then came back and sat down beside her. She took his hand once more, hoping she wasn't being too silly, wishing she could absorb some of his nervousness and help him relax a bit. She didn't know what else to do, except this.
She'd had times when she'd longed to have someone beside her, someone who cared, and times when it seemed like no one ever touched her, and she craved touch the way some women longed for chocolate or a new pair of shoes. So she held on to him.
"Afraid I'm going to get up and run away before I get in there?" he asked.
"No. Zach McRae doesn't run from anything."
"But he needs somebody to walk him to the doctor's and hold his hand?"
"I told you, I'm nervous about my appointment."
"Really want the job, do you?"
"Oh, yeah. Anything to keep me right here in beautiful Baxter, Ohio, for the rest of my life."
"It's not so bad," he said.
"What would you know about it? You're hardly ever here."
Which made her wonder just what his idea of settling down might entail. Living here? Not that it looked like she was going anywhere fast. She had Peter to consider and parents who seemed to be heading for some serious jail time. So many things were up in the air. Sometimes it seemed like her whole life was one big question mark.
"I am glad you came," he said softly. "Not just back home, but here with me, today."
Okay, maybe her life was not entirely made up of uncertainties, because she just looked at him and it was like her heart felt so full it was about to burst. He still looked so hesitant, so uncharacteristically lost, she couldn't help herself.
"I do love you," she said, because that was the bottom line, the thing she couldn't escape, no matter how many questions remained.
He frowned. "Is this like that thing where people give the doomed man what he wants most in the world before they lock him away?"
"You're not doomed or about to be locked away. They're going to fix you, remember?" she said.
She really wanted to believe she was the thing he wanted most in the world. It wasn't so hard at the moment, with him sitting close beside her, needing her the way she'd always needed him.
"How long is this going to take?" she asked.
"Hour and a half. Why?"
She shrugged. "I could come back. Maybe you could walk me home afterward?"
"You'll be nervous after your appointment, too?"
She nodded. "Or... I guess I could always go home, take off all my clothes, climb back into bed and wait for you there."
He gave her an honest, full-fledged grin, the first of the day. It had been the right thing to say.
"I guess that's even better than saying I love you. Or walking you down here and holding your hand," she said.
"What can I say? I'm a guy. A naked woman waiting for me in bed... that works for me."
He was still grinning when the doctor came out a moment later and introduced herself to him and to Julie.
Right before Zach left to follow the doctor into her office, he leaned over and kissed Julie on the cheek and told her it would be just fine if she were waiting here when he was done. He could take her clothes off himself, once they got back to her house.
She sat there for a long time after he disappeared into the office, wishing she could be back there with him, thinking that surely there was something else she could do. She didn't want to go to her appointment. She wanted to stay right here. But the Chamber of Commerce was only a block and a half away, and she figured the interview would at least kill a little time and keep her from being so nervous.
She really was worried about Zach.
So she went to the interview. The guy happened to be someone she knew from before, somebody a little rough around the edges whom she'd never expected to see in such a nice suit, sitting behind a lovely desk, doing something as conservative and respectable as running the Chamber of Commerce.
They laughed over that a bit, the things they'd left behind as they'd grown up. He told her he was in a real bind, that most of the plans for the festival were already made, but, as she knew from putting together events for the store, someone had to handle the things that always went wrong and dozens of last-minute details.
"It would help a lot if that person knew the town, knew the people, knew the festival. In fact, I don't see how anyone could step into this job at this time of year and ever make it work without knowing all those things. Do I need to beg?" he asked finally.
"No. It's not that. It's just... I never thought I'd come back here, much less stay," she admitted.
"Hey, it's October already. I'm not asking you to promise me anything except that you'll get us through the festival. In January, if we both want to talk about you staying... great. If not, no strings. Okay?"
"That's it?" she asked. "You don't want to see a resume or references?"
He shrugged. "Five years at Land's Department Store? My wife could practically support the whole chain, single-handedly. I know it's a first-class operation. This job's yours, if you want it."
He named a salary she thought was generous. He said she could take work home in the afternoons so she could be there for Peter when he got out of school, as long as the work got done.
Everything seemed to be falling into place in ways that life simply never had for her. It was terrifying in a way and oddly comforting in another.
She took the job.
* * *
Julie was waiting right there where he'd left her when he came back to the reception area. Without a word, she got to her feet and came to his side, taking his hand in hers and walking out into the sunshine with him.
He took a long, slow breath of the fresh, fall air, let the sunshine and her warm him through and through, and just kept walking. The urge to rush her off to her house, to her bed, was strong, and he knew she wouldn't offer up a word of protest, would give herself to him as willingly as ever.
Anything he needed right now. Her hand. Her love. Her understanding. Her faith. Her body, his for the asking. She hadn't gone anywhere.
Could he convince her to stay? Always? To stop running?
They walked on, and he took an ambling path in the general direction of her house. It wasn't even noon. They had a few precious hours to themselves before Peter got out of school, and he knew what he'd find in her arms.
He settled for pulling her into the shadows on the side of the ice-cream store, behind a huge, sprawling oak. He backed her up against the wall, and kissed her long and hard, pinning her to the wall with his body, lingering there over her lips with a patience he feared he'd seldom shown her before.
"That bad?" she asked, when he rested his forehead against hers and sighed.
"Well, they didn't try to lock me up on the spot," he said. "That's a plus."
She laughed. "Did you think they would?"
"I don't know, Julie. Like I said, it's a place I've never been before. Emotionally, I mean."
She stood there, letting him rest against her. She knew he wanted to kiss her again but thought they really needed to talk, and it was up to him to make that happen. But it was hard when her bed was waiting.
"She thinks we can work through this. That I'll be fine."
"There you go. Told you so."
"She said it's a struggle to hold all kinds of emotions in and to keep anyone from knowing how bad we feel, and it's usually much harder, much scarier than just... going ahead and letting ourselves feel those things we're fighting not to feel. Hard to believe, but... well, what do I know about any of this?" He shrugged. "How the hell did I end up in therapy?"
"Classic case of a dysfunctional family. You were probably doomed from the start."
He laughed then. "It never sounds so bad when I talk about it with you."
"That's because it's not, Zach. I mean, it's no fun, but it's something people know how to handle."
He hadn't seen it that way—as simply something that someone knew how to fix.
"You told her everythin
g?" Julie asked.
"Yeah, I told her everything. She didn't even seem to be shocked."
"So, you're not the first person to ever feel this way?"
He took a breath, thinking it would take some getting used to, the way she saw inside him. Because that's exactly what he'd thought.
"Apparently, I'm not," he said, then grimaced, still getting used to the diagnosis. "She said it's a classic case of panic attacks."
Julie nodded, waiting, accepting. He really needed the acceptance right now.
"You'd think I would have figured it out, huh?" he said as easily as he could. "I had all the symptoms. One of the doctors I saw mentioned it, and I didn't even give it a second thought. I thought he was nuts. Me? Have something like that?"
"I guess it's not so easy when it's your own problem."
"Yeah."
At times he had thought he was dying, that his drastic physical reaction couldn't be a problem addressed by anyone other than a medical doctor.
"She doesn't think I'm a drunk, either," he said. "Just that I was using that, trying to self-medicate, to avoid the problem. She thinks if we deal with the problem, we'll stop the panic. Stop the panic, and I won't be tempted to drink. I never really wanted to drink before. I mean, it was okay, but not... I don't know. It just wasn't a big deal. So, one problem down. I hope."
"Good. So, you'll go talk to this nice lady for a while, and she'll do... whatever it is she does, and then you'll find a way to put this behind you and move on."
He nodded.
"Still having trouble believing it?" she asked.
"It shows?"
"Just a little. So, what now?"
"I promised my shrink I'd tell you... well, what I told you last night and what I just told you today. And that I'd tell my family. My mother is going to give me hell—"
"About needing help from a psychiatrist?"
"No, about thinking I was dying of some kind of mysterious heart problem and not telling her."
"You really thought you were dying?"
"When my heart felt like it was about to explode and I couldn't breathe? Yeah, I did. I was sure the problem was physical because... Well, it felt completely physical." He shook his head.
"So, now you know.
"About this, yeah." He looked worried again. "And you and me? What about you and me?"
