THE BEST MAN

by Linda Turner

  * * *

  It was the hardest decision of her life.

  For the next three days, Merry avoided Nick like the plague, taking the time, as her mother had suggested, to decide what she wanted. She struggled and fought with it, and even cried. And in the end, there was really no decision to make, after all. At this point in her life, she couldn't think of Nick as anything other than a friend, not when she still didn't know how she felt about Thomas.

  Relieved that she'd finally made some kind of decision, even if it didn't change anything, she almost called Nick. She'd missed him, missed talking things over with him as she usually did at the end of the day. But she was afraid he would want to pick up their last conversation where they left off, and she wasn't ready for that. Not yet. So she decided to wait until she ran into him in town.

  Instead, he was the one who called her.

  When the phone rang in the middle of the night, Merry knew it wasn't good news—it never was at three in the morning. Immediately awake, her heart in her throat, she reached for the phone in the dark. "Hello?"

  "I'm sorry to wake you," Nick said huskily in her ear, "but I thought you'd want to know that Maxine Cooper was rushed to the hospital a half hour ago. It looks like she had a heart attack."

  "Oh, no!" Sitting up abruptly, she switched on the light and reached for her clothes. "Is she all right? Has Thomas been notified?"

  "I just called him. He's catching the first flight out this morning."

  "Then it must be bad," she said somberly. "I'll be right there."

  Later, she never remembered the drive to the hospital. Maxine Cooper was a possessive mother who had always doted on Thomas, and she hadn't been thrilled at the idea of losing him to a wife. But Merry had found a way to make peace with her and even developed a certain fondness for her. She was the last parent Thomas had left. If she died, he'd be devastated.

  Even now, he was on his way to Liberty Hill and would be there in a matter of hours. Merry didn't fool herself into thinking she wouldn't see him. Whatever his feelings were for her, he was a devoted son and this was going to hit him hard. An only child, he had no family to help him through this except for her and Nick. He was going to need them.

  Her stomach knotted at the thought.

  * * *

  What was left of the night crawled by. All alone in the ICU waiting room, Merry drank one cup of coffee after another as nurses walked down the hallway on rubber-soled shoes. With nothing but her thoughts to keep her company, she found herself watching the clock and wondering where Nick was. She'd expected him to join her, but he never did, so she assumed he was working the night shift.

  Sometime after four in the morning, an intern came in to tell her that she didn't need to stay—Maxine had stabilized and was heavily sedated. She wouldn't wake for hours. For all of ten seconds, Merry considered going home, but she couldn't stand the thought of Thomas's mother being there all alone, with no one to care about her. So she stayed … and waited for Thomas.

  She had hours to think about him and how she would feel when she finally saw him again. Somehow, she'd always known that the day would come when they would meet again, and over the course of the last month, she'd pictured that meeting a thousand times in her head. But she'd never imagined it would happen like this, in the hospital, with his mother fighting for her life.

  His first concern would be Maxine, she reminded herself, and rightfully so. She was the one whose health was in danger, and any discussion about their relationship—or lack of one—would have to wait. And that, Merry realized, was probably for the best. Neither one of them had expected this. They weren't prepared to talk about the future yet. They could do that later, after Maxine was on the road to recovery and they were free to focus on themselves and what they did and didn't want.

  Still, Merry knew that first moment when they came face-to-face was going to be the most difficult. She thought she was prepared for it. But when she heard his footstep in the hall outside the waiting room just after eight in the morning and looked up to see him step into the doorway, it wasn't hurt or confusion or pain that hit her like a fist in the heart and stole her breath. It was fury. Red-hot, blazing fury.

  He'd changed little over the course of the last month. Trim as ever in jeans and a green knit shirt that exactly matched his eyes, he looked tired and worried and incredibly attractive. Once, just being in the same room with him would have been enough to turn her knees to water. With his blond hair, chiseled face and boyish smile, he'd always been able to captivate her without saying a word. But not this time.

  She should have greeted him and at least told him how sorry she was about his mother's illness, but she was too angry. Afraid that if she so much as opened her mouth, she'd blast him for treating her so badly, all she could manage was a curt nod.

  Surprised, he stopped dead at the sight of her, and it was then that Merry realized he really hadn't expected to see her there. The blood drained out of his face, only to rush back into his cheeks with a painful flush. Hesitating, he had the look of a man who would rather be anywhere but where he was.

  But he didn't, to his credit, bolt as she half expected. Instead, he seemed to mature right before her very eyes. He squared his shoulders, dragged in a deep breath, and faced her unflinchingly. "Hello, Merry. How are you?"

  "Fine," she said stiffly. "Have you looked in on your mother? She's in room 305."

  "I know. I just talked to her doctor and checked on her. Have you been here all night?"

  To lie would have been pointless. "I didn't want her to be alone. Now that you're here, however, there's no reason to stay."

  Her head up and her chin lifted proudly, she would have walked right past him but he quickly stepped in front of her and blocked her path. "Merry, please, don't be this way," he pleaded. "We need to talk. I've thought of you so much—"

  She snorted before she could stop herself. "Oh, really? Isn't that interesting? You thought of me, but it never entered your head to pick up the phone to call me. You talked to Nick and your mother and God knows how many other people over the last month, but not me. Not the woman you asked to marry you. Not the woman you stood up at the altar."

  "I can explain that," he said quickly, desperately. "I know I acted like a jerk and I handled everything badly, but I was scared. I never meant to hurt you. How could I? I love you!"

  "Love me?!" she sputtered, her blue eyes sparking with fire. "How dare you! You don't know the meaning of the word."

  "But I do! If you'll just listen—"

  "I've heard all I intend to hear right now," she snapped. "Get out of my way, Thomas. I'm going home."

  He wanted to argue, but the glare she leveled on him had him backing up in a hurry. "You're right. This isn't the time. You're tired and need to get some sleep. We can talk later."

  Angrier than she had ever been in her life, she stormed out without saying a word, her only thought to get away. If Thomas was right about anything, it was that she did need to get some sleep, but she never thought to go home. The minute she climbed into her Explorer, she immediately headed for Nick's.

  It was as instinctive as breathing, turning to him when she felt like the world was closing in on her, and she felt guilty about that. It was insensitive of her to go to him about Thomas now that she knew how he felt about her, but old habits were hard to break. They'd always been there for each other, always helped each other with whatever problems life threw their way, and she needed him. Surely, he would understand that.

  His truck was in his driveway, just as she'd known it would be. His shift had ended at seven, but he'd no doubt had paperwork to do and had probably just gotten home. This wasn't, she knew, a good time to approach him. After working all night, he'd be tired and in need of sleep, and the last thing he'd want to do was talk to her about her relationship with Thomas.

  And she couldn't blame him for that. She didn't want to talk about it, either. But she knew Thomas well enough to know that now that he'd faced her and decided he wa
nted to discuss the wedding that hadn't happened, he wasn't going to let her put him off for long. Once he was assured his mother was going to be all right and he'd given her time to calm down, he'd come looking for her, and Merry didn't have a clue what she was going to say to him.

  Which was why she had to talk to Nick, dammit! No one was more levelheaded than he was in a crisis, and this definitely qualified as a crisis. He would help her, she told herself as she parked behind his truck and cut the engine. He had to.

  * * *

  She was the last person he expected to find on his doorstep. After she'd run out of his office the way she had, then spent the last few days avoiding him, he'd thought he'd pretty much destroyed their friendship. Yet here she was, standing at his front door with her chin raised defiantly and her eyes glinting with determination. In all the years that he'd known her, she'd never looked prettier, and as usual, his body responded to the sight of her.

  Silently swallowing a curse, he stiffened. He didn't know what she wanted, but a voice in his head warned him that if he was smart, he'd send her packing. He was dead on his feet, his defenses down, and she looked too damn good. If she gave him the slightest opening, he was going to do something stupid—like reach for her—and that could only lead to disaster.

  But instead of standing his ground and coming up with some excuse to shut the door in her pretty face, he found himself stepping back and inviting her inside. "You look tired. Have you been at the hospital all this time?"

  "If it had been my mother, I would have wanted someone with her until I could get there," she said as she stepped inside. "Once Thomas arrived, I left."

  "So you saw him."

  It wasn't a question, but a flat statement of fact, and just that easily, he knew why she'd come knocking at his door. She was upset and needed someone to talk to. And deep down inside, that hurt. Didn't she realize what it did to him when she talked about Thomas? He loved her, dammit! And she loved another man. Knowing that ate at him like a cancer. Couldn't she see that?

  He almost told her then that he didn't want to hear whatever she had to say. He couldn't take it anymore. But the time he had left with her was limited now that he'd set the wheels in motion to leave town. If this was all he could have with her, he was going to take it.

  "He wanted to talk," she said furiously. "Can you believe it? The nerve of the man! He disappears off the face of the earth for a month—a whole damn month!—and now suddenly, he needs to explain why he couldn't marry me." Preceding Nick into the living room, she snorted in disdain. "As if I need to have things spelled out to me. When a man jilts a woman, what other explanation can there be? He obviously doesn't love her."

  Arching a brow at her, Nick said the last thing he ever expected to hear himself say. "Are you sure about that?"

  "Sure about what?"

  "Are you sure he doesn't love you?"

  Stunned, Merry couldn't believe she'd heard him correctly. "This is a joke, right?"

  His expression grim, he met her gaze somberly. "Trust me, I don't find anything about you and Thomas funny. If I'd have had my way, he'd have never laid eyes on you again."

  With just a look, he reminded her about the conversation in his office and how he felt about her. Her heart suddenly thudding crazily, Merry quickly steered the conversation back to safer waters. "He hurt me, Nick. And betrayed me. Why should I listen to anything he has to say?"

  "Because you are hurting," he said simply. "And so is Thomas. Granted, he caused all this with his stupidity, but don't kid yourself into thinking he hasn't suffered for it. He has. And you'll both keep suffering until you find a way to get past this and go on with your life. I think the only way you can do that is to talk to him and air out your feelings."

  If her mother had said such a thing, Merry would have agreed that it was sound advice. But this was Nick. And after knowing him for a lifetime, she suddenly felt like she didn't know him at all. He'd claimed that he'd stayed in town all these years because of her, yet now he was encouraging her to not only talk to Thomas, but to make peace. Didn't he realize that if she did that, she might be opening the door for Thomas to come back into her life? Is that what he wanted?

  More confused than ever, she rubbed at the headache that was suddenly pounding in her temple. "I'll think about it. Later. After I get some sleep. Nothing's making sense right now."

  Feeling like she was going to cry and not knowing why, she thanked him for his help and beat a hasty retreat. She was just tired, she told herself as she headed for home. She'd feel better after she got some rest.

  But although she went to bed the second she got home and immediately fell into an exhausted sleep, there was nothing the least bit restful about her dreams. With her defenses down, she was helpless to control the images of Nick and Thomas that flickered through her mind. They tugged and pulled at her heart, then turned and walked away in opposite directions, leaving her all alone and not knowing which way to turn. Crying out, she ran first after Thomas, then Nick, and couldn't catch either one of them. And they didn't seem to care.

  She woke up with tears streaming down her face and pain lancing her heart. More confused than ever, she knew she needed to call Thomas, just as Nick had suggested, if she was ever going to get past the hurt that held her in its grip, but she couldn't. Not yet. She wasn't ready for that. She knew Thomas too well. He'd been charming his way out of tight spots for as long as she'd known him, and there'd been a time when that had endeared him to her. But not now. If he flashed that boyish smile of his at her and tried to convince her he loved her with all his heart, she just didn't think she could take it.

  So she spent the rest of the day working and thinking of her future and where Thomas and Nick fit into her life. But when she closed her clinic at six, she was no closer to having the answers she needed than she had been when she'd started.

  Dejected, unwilling to face the all-consuming silence of another evening alone, she decided to go into town for supper at Ed's. It was meat loaf night, and not even her mother could make meat loaf and scalloped potatoes like Ed. With a slice of chocolate pie for dessert, she'd feel a lot better.

  * * *

  It wasn't until she pulled into the parking lot next to the diner that she realized she probably should have stayed home and eaten leftovers. She wasn't the only one who liked Ed's meat loaf. Through the plate glass windows that stretched the length of the building, she could see that the place was packed. Every booth was taken, and a crowd was bunched up just inside the door, waiting for a table.

  Tempted in spite of that, she considered staking out a place at the end of the line, but she knew what would happen if she did. By now, the word had gotten out that Thomas was back in town. The second she stepped inside, people would start asking her if she'd seen him, if they'd made up, if there was a possibility that they were getting back together. And that was a discussion she didn't want to have tonight.

  Disappointed—she really wanted meat loaf, dammit!—she started to back out of the parking lot when she spied Nick sitting alone at the last booth near the windows and remembered he was as fond of Ed's meat loaf as she was. Once, she would have joined him without questioning whether she'd be welcome or not. Now that wasn't the case. Gnawing her bottom lip, she hesitated, and that was when he looked up and saw her. For just a second, she thought he was going to nod and turn his attention back to the blue plate special Ed, himself, delivered to his table, but he must have thought better of it. He said something to Ed, and with a sharp move of his hand, the older man was motioning her inside and past the crowd at the door.

  A former prison cook who was still hard and rough around the edges, Ed had always had a soft spot for Merry and he didn't care who knew it. His grin crooked as he watched her make her way toward where he still stood at Nick's booth, he teased, "And just what the Sam Hill do you think you were doing? I saw you. You were leaving!"

  She couldn't help but laugh. "I forgot how crowded you'd be tonight."

  "I'm never too cro
wded for you. Anyway, didn't you see Nick? You know you never have to wait when he's here. Isn't that right, Nick?"

  He didn't hesitate as she had feared, but nodded. "That's right, Ed. Bring Merry the special, will you? That is what you're having, isn't it?" he asked, arching a brow at her. "The meat loaf?"

  He knew her too well. "And iced tea," she added as Ed headed for the kitchen. Sliding into the seat across from Nick, she said, "We can talk about pie later."

  His brown eyes starting to twinkle, he chuckled. "I don't know who you think you're fooling, Mer. Everybody in town knows you've got a sweet tooth that could keep Hershey's in business. I'll bet Ed cut your pie the second he stepped into the kitchen."

  "He did not!"

  "Wanna make a bet?"

  They grinned at each other, the familiar line a challenge right out of their childhood, and were totally oblivious to what was going on around them … until Thomas suddenly slid onto the booth seat next to Merry. "I figured I'd find you two here," he said with a flash of his dimples when she gasped. "It's meat loaf night, isn't it? I don't know how you two eat that stuff."

  "Some of us like it," Merry said stiffly, glaring at him. "What are you doing here, Thomas? You should be at the hospital with your mother. What do you want?"

  "Hey," he said, managing to look wounded, "Mother's doing much better. And since when did I have to have an excuse to be with my two favorite people in the world?"

  "Since you left me standing at the altar," she snapped. "That's not how you treat someone you claim to love. Or at least, it's not how I treat people I care about. I actually showed up at the church, which is more than can be said for someone else at this table."

  She had him beaten with just a few words, and he knew it. His smile tight, he turned to Nick for help. "C'mon, man, don't just sit there. I'm getting my ass kicked here. Help me. You know I love her. Tell her."

  "Tell her yourself," Nick growled, glaring at him with hostile eyes. "For your information, you're not the only one who loves her. I do, too. And if you think I'm going to help you win her back, you're crazy."