by Clare Revell
“Just drive and I’ll explain.” She glanced back at the café.
The man was in the doorway, the cop standing in front of him, blocking his path.
“Please, go…”
Jackson started the car. “They won’t let him leave until we’re gone. If need be they’ll call uniform and pull him in for harassment.” He pulled away and drove to the end of the street, turning the opposite way from home. “So, talk.”
“He’s someone from my past. His name’s Dirk.”
“Is he an old boyfriend?”
“Hardly.” Amber swallowed, picking at her fingernail. “He’s married. He was married.”
Jackson glanced at her. “Did he hurt you?”
She paused, rubbing her arm. “No. At least, not the way you’re probably thinking.”
“Hmmm. OK.” He paused. “What does he want? Where did you meet him?”
“You ask more questions than the policeman. I met him in Canada. There was never anything between us. I thought when I moved here he’d leave me alone. I guess not. I just wish I knew how he found me. I was being careful, moving to where I thought no one knew me. But please, I can’t tell you anymore, not right now.”
“OK.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel while he stopped at the lights. “So, what is your type?”
“Well, I can’t stand Times New Roman or Arial.” She glanced at him trying to lighten the mood.
Jackson’s lips twitched. “Guy, not font type. But at least you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”
“Honestly?” She sucked in a deep breath. In for a penny, in for a pound, honesty being the best policy and all the other clichés that sprang to her mind—what did she have to lose? “Actually, it’d be someone like you.”
“Like me?” he asked.
“Well, not someone like you. You, you.” Her cheeks burned and part of her couldn’t believe she’d just said that. Had she left her marbles, as well as her wits, back in the café, along with any sense of safety she’d had since she’d fled the scene of the murders in Canada?
Jackson parked outside the house. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“That depends on what you’re thinking.”
“What I’m thinking?” He shifted in his seat to look at her. Their eyes met, gazes locked. His fingers grazed her cheek and she leaned into his touch. “I like you, Amber—” he said, his voice low and husky, “—a lot.” He leaned in, his lips touching hers lightly. Then, he pulled away as if asking for permission to continue.
When she nodded very slightly, he kissed her again. She soared as his fingers grazed her neck and hair. Her disappointment returned her to earth when he finally pulled back.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” he said, sounding almost as breathless as she was. “I have to get back to work. Will you be all right?”
Amber nodded. “Yeah. I’ll lock the doors until Jared or Niamh gets home.”
His fingers caressed her cheek. “You do that. I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”
“Six-thirty?”
“We have a date, remember?”
“Of course we do. I thought you’d said seven.”
Laughter danced in his eyes. “Nope, that was last night. It’s six-thirty tonight.”
She nodded. “I’ll be waiting.”
Once inside the house, she shot the deadbolts across and leaned against the door. When had her feelings for Jackson changed? She wasn’t sure, but had an awful feeling Dirk would get in the way.
****
Jackson was glad when surgery ended and he could leave. For once he left on time. Stopping off on the way home for a bunch of flowers for Amber, his mind was full of the incident earlier. Who was this Dirk? And what was a married guy doing chasing Amber half way around the world? Especially when she wasn’t interested.
But that kiss…
It was as if she’d never been kissed before. She’d been unsure at first, but then responded with such passion and intensity that he’d had a hard time pulling back. He pulled the tie from his collar and loosened his top button. It had been a long time since he’d felt that way about anyone, and that had almost ruined his career before it had even begun.
A shower and change of clothes later, he arrived at Amber’s place, flowers in hand. He felt ridiculously nervous, but this wasn’t their first date.
Niamh opened the door. “Hi, Dr. Parker. Come in.”
“Thanks.” He stepped inside, taking a deep breath. Hopefully no one would give him the third degree over taking Amber out.
Jared passed by, Siobhan on his hip. “Those flowers had better not be for my wife,” he teased.
Jackson grinned. “Don’t tempt me.” The smile froze on his face as Amber appeared looking stunning in a burgundy sweater and black jeans. “Wow.” He let out a long whistle. “You look gorgeous.”
“I can go change…”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No way.” He handed her the flowers. “You’re perfect.”
“Thank you. And I’m far from perfect.” She led him to the kitchen and put the flowers in a vase. “Where are we going?”
“It’s the prayer meeting tonight. I thought we could get something to eat first and then go. If that’s OK with you.”
“Sounds perfect,” she said. “Let me just go grab my Bible and I’m ready.”
Ten minutes later, Jackson seated Amber in his favorite burger joint. Based on a fifties USA diner, it had table service, with red and white gingham cloths and vases of flowers on the tables. Once the food came, he studied her over his burger.
“You’re staring,” she said, pointing two of her fries at him.
“I’m just admiring your beauty,” he quipped.
“Rot,” she said. “You are either fishing for compliments, flattering me, or lying between your teeth. And I’m honestly not sure which.”
He grinned. “OK, OK, I admit it. I’m trying to work out who the real you is.”
She picked up her drink. “Real me?” she asked with the straw between her lips.
“Yeah. You’re like onion. There are so many layers that no matter how many you peel, there’s another one underneath. What is the real you like?”
“Honestly, it’s hard to know,” she said. “I’m not sure I know. I’m not sure I like being compared to an onion either. They always make me cry.”
“That’s because you chop them wrong. There’s a knack to it that my grandmother showed me years ago. But that’s not why I compared you to an onion. You have so many layers, it’s as if you’re hiding something.”
Fear flickered in her eyes before the same haunted look from earlier clouded them. “What makes you say that?”
OK. She’s definitely hiding something. “Just a thought,” he said, stabbing a chip into the tub of ketchup. “And I don’t just mean hiding from the guy earlier this afternoon, either.”
“We all hide something,” she said evasively, picking the raw onions from her burger. “Fears, failure, and so on. Even you must hide something.”
He shifted, not liking the way she’d turned the tables so effectively. “Well, yeah…”
“So, Jackson, what’s your deepest, darkest secret? I reckon it’s got something to do with why you’re practicing medicine here and not in the States.”
He swallowed with difficulty. He grabbed his drink. “You could say that.”
“What happened?”
“That’s a long story.”
She held his gaze. “My guess would be a woman.”
“A woman?”
“Probably blonde, skinny…”
“Enough. Actually she had long, black hair and was married.”
Shock etched on her face. “Excuse me?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Ah, you don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“Do you want to hear this or not?” Jackson demanded.
Amber waved a hand and picked up her drink. “Go ahead.”
“I was an intern.” He didn’
t want to tell her, but it’d be a relief to tell someone—other than his father. He could still see the look on his father’s face when he’d found out. A mix of anger and disappointment. Fortunately, his actions hadn’t cost his father his job or hurt his reputation.
“Intern?”
“House officer, I guess you’d call it. Third year after finishing medical school. A bunch of us went to a club and then on to a casino. She was a croupier. I had this huge crush on her, which is why I initially kept going back. Only the gambling bug bit me hard. The short story is I ended up owing thousands of dollars and lost my job to boot. On the upside, there are only three more payments to go. Dad refused to bail me out. He said I got myself into the mess, I could get myself out, although he did arrange the flight over here. No, he didn’t arrange the job. I did that myself.”
“And are you still gambling?”
Jackson hissed out a deep breath. “Not at a casino. The slot machines in the Roebuck on the other hand—”
“So don’t go to the pub.” Amber grabbed a napkin, wiping her hands on it.
“It’s not that easy.”
“Sure it is.” She reached for her bag. “Call me. You have my mobile number. If you get the urge to go to the pub, call me, and we’ll go do something else instead.” She paused, looking in her bag. “I seem to have lost my phone. It isn’t at home.”
“Then we go buy another one,” Jackson said. “One of those cheap pay as you go ones. With this guy out there you need a way of getting hold of the cops. We’ll go get one on the way to the prayer meeting.”
Amber nodded. “OK. Now, I need to make a pit stop in the ladies, and I’ll be right back.”
Jackson nodded, his gaze following her across the room. He leaned back in his chair. Now that he’d confided in her, perhaps she’d do the same and tell him who this Dirk guy was and why he was following her.
6
Amber arrived at church on Sunday with Jared and Niamh, to find Jackson waiting outside. She nodded to him, figuring he was waiting for someone else.
Jackson smiled at her. “Hey. Wanna come and sit upstairs with me?”
“Sure.” She ignored the grin Jared and Niamh exchanged as they headed into the chapel. “I’ve never sat upstairs.”
Jackson took her hand. “It’s the same as downstairs, really. Singing is a little louder at times, and if it’s a hymn with two parts we sing part B, unless its men and women in which case it’d be the same as downstairs.”
She shook her head. “Way to confuse the issue.”
“I do my best.” He chuckled as he led her to what she assumed was his normal seat.
It was a little weird being up here.
He smiled as they sat behind the clock so they were opposite the pulpit. “How’s the phone working out?”
“It’s fine. No one rings so it’s been a quiet couple of days.”
“Has anyone actually got your new number?”
“No.”
“Then that’s why no one calls. Give me your number.” He pulled out his phone and brought up the contact list. Typing her name quickly he glanced at her. “Well?”
“And when I actually find my proper phone, then what?”
“I’m putting you in as Amber spare phone.”
She rolled her eyes and gave him the number. “Maybe I should just change my name to that. Sounds quite nerdy. And that had better be Spare Phone with a capital S and P.” Her phone beeped.
Jackson grinned. “Put your phone on silent.”
“Ratbag.”
“It takes one to know one. Now you have my number, you can call me if you need me.”
“Thank you.” Amber pulled out her phone. “Fancy that. I got a text from Jackson.”
“I mean it. I want you to call. Especially if that guy starts following you again. Or if you want to talk about anything.”
Amber typed quickly, chuckling as Jackson’s phone beeped. “Physician, heal thyself and put thine own phone on silent.” She pulled her Bible from her bag and put it in the pew in front of her. A photo fell and fluttered to the floor.
Jackson retrieved it. He looked at it before handing it back to her. A sepia image of a young man smiled up at him.
Amber held out her hand for it as the service began. Fortunately that avoided the conversation he looked as if he wanted, and she hoped by the end of the service he’d have forgotten. But ninety minutes later as she put her Bible away, he turned to her.
“Who’s the guy in the picture?”
She hesitated, the secret weighing heavily on her. If she told him, she’d lose every ounce of self-respect she had left. He’d probably want nothing more to do with her. And talking about that would only lead him to ask more questions, most likely about Canada, because the two things were inextricably linked. And that had to stay hidden. So she stood. “I can’t talk about it.”
“Amber, I told you my deep, dark secret. You can trust me. I just want to help.”
Her eyes burned and she turned her back on him. If she could confide in anyone, it would be him, but that would put his life in danger, and she couldn’t be responsible for that. She took several deep breaths and turned, not wanting to be rude and ruin things between them. “I can’t. I don’t want you getting hurt. I’m sorry.”
“I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself,” he said just as quietly. “And if you’re afraid I’ll judge you, then you’re wrong. Open up a tiny bit and you’ll feel so much better.”
“Typical doctor,” she whispered. “Talking doesn’t solve everything. Sometimes it makes it a whole lot worse.”
Jared appeared at her shoulder. “Jackson, would you like to join us for lunch or are you busy?”
Jackson didn’t tear his gaze away from Amber. “Lunch would be great. If it’s no trouble.”
“Niamh insists. Amber, will you come with us or with Jackson?”
“I’ll go with Jackson.” It’d give them time to finish this conversation. He’d been honest with her and therefore deserved the same treatment. The only problem was it meant dredging up stuff she’d rather forget.
She suddenly realized the two men were looking at her. They were obviously waiting for an answer, only she had no idea what the question was. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“I asked if you were OK,” Jared said.
“I’m fine.”
Jared nodded. “OK. We’ll see you back at the house.”
Amber turned back to Jackson. “All right. I’ll tell you, but not here. It isn’t something I want the world and his wife knowing.”
“That sounds more than a little intriguing,” he said gently, shooting her a smile. “Wanna tell me in the car? I promise I won’t repeat any of it to anyone.”
“It’s not just that.” She nodded. “Less chance of being overheard that way.”
He led her around to the car park and held the door while she got in. As he ran around the other side, she did up her belt, watching huge rain drops hit the windscreen.
“I’m glad we’re not walking,” he said, climbing in and shutting the door.
“Yeah.” She picked at a nail, figuring she’d just say this before she bottled it. “The photo is my grandfather. I never met him, but it’s the only link to my parents, to family, that I have.”
“I thought you and Jared were cousins.” Jackson pulled out of the car park and headed down the side streets to the main road.
“We are, but I didn’t know that growing up. It was just me.”
“You’re an only child?”
Amber nodded, trying to control the wobble in her voice. “Yeah, but…” She paused. “I never knew my father. I got the story from Jared. Apparently, my father abandoned my mother when she got pregnant. They weren’t married, and she couldn’t cope with me or didn’t want me. It all amounts to the same thing. I grew up in a kids’ home. I was never fostered or adopted or wanted.” She glanced at Jackson.
He was negotiating the traffic, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
/>
She was glad he couldn’t see the tears of bitterness and longing filling her eyes. She turned her face back to the window. “That’s why I never had anyone over. That’s why you got a secondhand book for your birthday. That’s why my clothes weren’t new or trendy or—”
His hand covered hers. “That must have been tough.”
“You have no idea.” Again she was glad he couldn’t look at her. “Lizzy would come in to school in the morning, moaning about her parents grounding her or stopping her allowance because she hadn’t tidied her room. I shared a room with two other kids. I’d have done anything just to have my own room or a mum and dad.”
“Have you ever wanted to trace them?”
She scoffed. “And be rejected again? No way.”
“What about Jared?”
“He doesn’t know where they are either. He offered but…” She shrugged, tears starting to track slowly down her cheeks. She didn’t want to cry. Self-pity wasn’t her, never had been and never would be. But she was just tired of all this and now she’d opened the flood gates, all the built up emotion poured through like a tidal wave. “It’s weird how we discovered we were related. He recognized the photo and it kind of went from there. Really should stop it falling out of my Bible. So, now you know. That’s me.”
Jackson pulled over to the side of the road. “Get out a sec.”
She looked at him and, picking up her bag, did as he asked. He obviously no longer wanted her around either. But before she could walk away, he’d rounded the car and wrapped his arms around her.
“Just let it go,” he whispered. “Don’t let the past fill the present and pull you down.”
Amber leaned against him, sobbing. His hands moved against her back, the gentle touch doing more than he probably realized to heal the rift within her. He was right, she knew that, but she’d carried this for so long, hiding who she really was, that it would be hard to let go.
“The past has shaped you,” he said gently. “But you can’t let it control you.”
She looked up. “That’s about the third time you’ve done that,” she said. “Told me almost exactly what I was thinking. Are you a mind reader?”
Jackson’s hands cupped her face, wiping away her tears. His eyes were dark. “Maybe when it comes to you.” His lips touched hers gently. Then, he deepened the kiss.
