by Terri Reed
Guilt. No, she wouldn’t own the guilt. It was not her fault that Andrea drove into that tree. Nor was it Josh’s, regardless of what he believed.
The man was too honorable, too generous and caring to be burdened with such guilt. She wanted to protect him, to make his life better. These feelings were so different, so much more than what she’d felt for him in high school. More intense, deeper. Based not on the fantasies of a starry-eyed teenager but on the reality of loving the man Josh had become.
The admission made her already-weak knees tremble as the elevator door slid open. Placing one foot in front of the other and walking out into the hall took a great deal of concentration.
She loved Josh.
Not with a girl’s infatuation but with a grown woman’s love. And not only with a tiny corner of her heart, but with the whole kit and caboodle. Every defense she had crumbled to smithereens, laying her heart and emotions exposed and vulnerable.
Lord, what do I do now?
Telling him served no purpose. Her life was in Chicago, his here in Sonora.
But thinking about the small apartment she called home filled her with emptiness. Even thinking about Cook County Hospital, her prestigious position and the tremendous accomplishments in triage care, working to prevent a repeat of her mother’s experience, didn’t fill the vacant spots. Only thoughts of Josh, Griff and the big Victorian house caused warmth to spread through her and pushed away the empty coldness.
She entered the deserted lounge and put her hand on the phone. She’d thought the decision to stay was for Griff’s sake, but the decision had been for Josh and herself, as well. He needed her even if he didn’t know it.
And she needed him.
She’d never realized how much until now.
She’d thought she was getting along fine in life alone, when in actuality she’d had Mom G. as a safety net. Now that she was in reality alone, with no family, she didn’t want to be alone.
She wanted more. Mom G. had said God wanted more for her. More than a career. She couldn’t discount the satisfaction that came from her work, but the long lonely years ahead stretched out before her, making her want to find the more that God had waiting for her.
She hoped it was Josh. She needed his steady presence, his solid strength. She needed his force of character, honest and fair, though at times misguided in his attempts to protect himself and those he loved. Could he love her? The question bounced around her head and her pulse sped up.
Then another thought came slamming home. She could live in Sonora and still practice medicine because the hospital no longer held the haunting specter of her mother’s unnecessary death. Her mother hadn’t died in vain. Rachel had made a difference and could continue on in this hospital.
With her heart beating in her throat, she quickly made her calls, leaving her return to Chicago open-ended.
She would stay and see if there was any hope for her and Josh. She prayed that this was part of God’s plan because it was now part of hers.
Josh stepped out of the elevator and into the E.R. People milled through the waiting area and he felt a pang of sympathy. He remembered all too well what it was like waiting to find out if your life would ever be the same again. He suppressed the shudder that rippled over him and searched for the doctors’ lounge.
Not seeing any marked doors, he headed toward a man in a white coat. The name tag on the man’s breast pocket identified him as Dr. Hunford. He remembered Rachel mentioning him. “Excuse me, Doctor. Could you point me toward the doctors’ lounge?”
Bushy black brows rose over dark eyes. “Can I help you with something?”
Josh smiled politely. “I’m looking for a friend who was going to use the lounge phone.”
Dr. Hunford returned his smile. “You mean Dr. Maguire?”
“Have you seen her?”
“Come with me.”
Dr. Hunford led the way down a hallway. “Do you know Dr. Maguire well?”
He answered, “Yes.”
Did he know her well? Josh considered the question. He knew many things about Rachel. She was generous with her time, affectionate and loving toward his son, full of compassion and strength, a competent doctor, authoritative and challenging until he thought he’d howl with frustration, and yet, she remained a mystery to him. The thoughts that accompanied those sparkling blue eyes, eyes that at times turned to cold ice, were hidden from him.
“It was a good thing for us that Dr. Maguire has a license to practice in the state of California. We were in quite a pickle last night with the pileup on Highway 108. We appreciated all her help,” Dr. Hunford said.
Josh frowned. She’d helped in the E.R. last night? When he’d thought she’d gone back to her hotel, she’d been down here. She must be exhausted.
As they approached a room marked Doctors’ Lounge, Rachel stepped out. She smiled when she saw the two men. Josh sucked in a breath. She hadn’t smiled like that since… He couldn’t remember seeing her smile with that much warmth since she’d returned. At least not at him. His son received smiles like that but Josh didn’t. He narrowed his eyes. He didn’t get it. What did she have up her sleeve?
“Here she is,” Dr. Hunford said unnecessarily.
“Dr. Hunford, Joshua. You were looking for me?” she said, her tone cheery.
Josh’s suspicions deepened. She never called him Joshua. He thought back through the years. The only time he could recall her using the formal form of his name was… His eyes widened and his gaze jumped to her face.
When they’d been at their tree. She’d wanted to stop fighting and had distracted him with his name on her lips and that glorious mouth drove all arguments from his head.
What was going on?
Dr. Hunford smiled. “I wanted to say thank you for pitching in last night.”
“You’re welcome. I enjoyed working alongside your staff. They’re very good.”
Dr. Hunford puffed with pride. “They are. But we could sure use more people like you around here. Any chance you’ll be sticking around?”
The subtle glance the man gave Josh was rife with meaning. Josh suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and say, “Yeah, when gold flows freely through the Mother Lode again.”
Her smile faltered slightly. “I’ll be in town for at least a few more days.”
Okay. As announcements went, it was like a good sock in the stomach. His brows rose as wariness twisted in his chest. What sweet torture was she planning now? “You will?”
She tugged on her bottom lip. The subtle sign of uncertainty rocked Josh. Even when she’d broken down, she hadn’t been unsure of herself. Dr. Hunford’s gaze bobbed between Josh and Rachel with great interest. Josh wished the man would go away.
“Because…ummm…Griff.” Her gaze slid away and then back again. Gone was the hesitancy. Cold determination filled her eyes and her chin went up. “Because you need me to help out with Griff.”
Josh gaped at her. “Excuse me?”
Rachel smiled patiently. “Griff’s being released today and you still have a fire to deal with.”
Oh, man. Rachel staying to help him would only prolong the agony for him and Griff. “I’ve got my dad.”
She arched a black brow. “Your dad has already gone to help with the fire.”
He narrowed his gaze. “I’ll manage. We’ve done perfectly well for years without you.” He threw her words back at her, not caring that Dr. Hunford was really interested now.
He felt the pierce of her narrowed gaze. “You always had Mom G. to help. Now you have me.”
Anger flared hot. Until she got bored and decided the hospital was where she’d rather be. “I don’t need you.”
Dr. Hunford chose that moment to interrupt. “Well, I do.”
Josh swung his angry gaze to the doctor, who blinked owlishly.
Rachel smiled that annoying polite, professional smile. “I’ll let you know if I have time to help out.”
Dr. Hunford began to back up. “Wonderful. We’re shortha
nded for the next week or so and I’d love the opportunity to discuss your innovative techniques I’ve read so much about.” He disappeared around the corner.
A week or so. Josh fumed. She would not be staying a week or so. He couldn’t take having her in town any longer, not when all he wanted to do was kiss that calm-and-collected look off her beautiful face. He fisted his hands. “You are not staying.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Why?”
Her smile never changed. “I told you why. You have a fire to deal with. I’m staying until you put it out.”
He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to put out the fire she’d ignited in his blood. He’d seen the damage a fire could cause. He didn’t intend to get burned. Again. “I’ll figure something out. Leave as planned.”
She shrugged. “I’ve already changed my plans.”
“Unchange them.”
“No.” The stubborn tilt to her chin didn’t bode well. “You’re wasting time. Let’s get Griff home.”
He gritted his teeth. There had to be another way. He could call Jen and see if she’d take care of Griff. No, he couldn’t add to her already-busy life. Griff was going to need a lot of attention at first. Josh would tell his father to go home. That’s what he’d do.
“Josh, the fire.”
“All right, all right,” he said, irritated by her reminder. What choice did he have? He would have to allow her to come to the house and stay with Griff until he could send Dad home from the fire. And then he’d send Rachel packing, boxing up his hopes and wishes to be shipped along with her.
Josh pulled the truck to a halt in front of his house. Fury churned and twisted in his chest, mingling with worry. His father had refused to leave the station and return home to relieve Rachel of her charge. In fact, his father had elected to sleep at the station. Rod’s misguided attempts at matchmaking were wearing thin.
To make matters worse, the blaze had jumped the fire line.
Josh hadn’t been able to even think about going home until well past dark, which left his son with Rachel for hours. Oh, he knew she’d take good care of him. Too good of care. She’d be affectionate and funny with Griff. She probably had tons of stories to tell and would make his son’s heart swell with love. Which would make her leaving that much harder.
He opened the front door. The house was quiet. A single light from the family room lent its glow to guide him. He stopped inside the doorway, his breath trapped somewhere between his lungs and his heart.
Rachel sat on the couch. She’d changed from the green scrubs into—he blinked, stunned—his sweat suit.
Her eyes were closed, dark lashes rested against her milky complexion and her lustrous hair spread across the cushions. Her crossed ankles were propped up on the coffee table. He dragged his eyes away from her red-tipped toes to Griff. His small, round head rested on Rachel’s lap and his broken ankle lay resting on another pillow.
Bittersweet longing hit him square between the eyes. If only this scene were real. He longed for Rachel to be his wife, for her to be his son’s mother. He longed to come home from work like this and see her here waiting for him. To hear her voice filling the house with love and laughter. He longed for nights spent in her arms and to awaken in the morning light with her beside him.
He longed for a life that would never be.
She would never be content to be his wife. To live a simple life. To live again in this small town when the big city beckoned her away with excitement, when the hospital she worked at provided her the fulfillment she craved: a high-powered position with upward career possibilities. He couldn’t compete with what she believed God had planned for her.
Just as he and his father hadn’t been able to compete with the life his mother had wanted.
He must never forget that the most important thing to Rachel would always be her career. He hadn’t been enough then, and he wouldn’t be now.
And the quicker he got her out of his house the better. So Griff wouldn’t be hurt like he’d been hurt.
But what was he to do with her tonight? He couldn’t leave Griff to take her to the hotel and he couldn’t leave her on the couch. She’d have to sleep in the guest room upstairs. Down the hall from his room.
He gulped.
Taking a deep breath, he moved to the couch and gingerly lifted Griff from her lap and carried him upstairs, careful of his ankle. Once his son was settled, Josh went to the guest room and turned down the bed.
He ignored the hammering in his chest at the thought of her beautiful dark hair spilling across the white pillow. He quickly spun away from the choking image.
Back downstairs, he contemplated how best to move Rachel upstairs. He rapidly dismissed the idea of waking her because facing a sleepy and cute Rachel was something he’d rather not do.
Cautiously he slipped a hand under her head and the other under her knees. He slowly lifted her, testing her weight. She barely weighed anything. Easily he raised her up in his arms and held her to him. She stirred, sighing slightly.
“Shh, its okay,” he whispered.
Her arms slid around his neck and she nuzzled closer, her cheek warm against his chest. She’d showered, and the scent of Griff’s shampoo clung to her soft hair. He’d never considered the smell of green apples an aphrodisiac.
Thinking himself insane for putting himself through such torture, he hurried upstairs with her. By the light of the moon coming through the window he laid her down gently on the soft bed and rested her head on the pillow. Her arms tightened around his neck and she made a soft sound of protest deep in her throat as he tried to extract himself.
He leaned in a little, his face close to hers, her arms allowing some slack. Her breath teased the hair at his temple. He closed his eyes against the zing of pleasure ricocheting through his veins and crippling his heart.
Every instinct urged him to gather her close and give in to the feminine allure of Rachel. To abandon all thought, all conscience and reasoning, for one precious moment in her arms.
God help me.
By strength drawn only from his faith, Josh gently pried her arms lose and laid them beside her. She snuggled into the bed and turned on her side. He swallowed and quickly pulled up the lightweight blanket, covering her slender curves.
He backed out of the room, very much aware that Rachel Maguire slept in his house. He doubted he’d get any sleep tonight.
Rachel bolted upright. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the darkness broken slightly by the moonlight seeping through the crack of the curtain. She was in an unfamiliar room in a strange bed. Then it hit her. She smiled with pleasure. She was in Josh’s house, apparently in the guest room.
She pushed the button on her watch and the circular dial lit up with a green glow. Two-forty in the morning.
The last thing she remembered was sitting on the couch with Griff, telling him the funnier stories from the E.R. The time was precious and she’d never felt so wanted or so satisfied. She belonged here with this family. Griff had finally dozed off and she must have, as well.
Tugging on the too-big sweatshirt she’d confiscated from Josh’s dryer, pleasure welled up at the thought of Josh carrying her upstairs. With the way he’d reacted when she’d stated she was staying, it was little wonder he hadn’t carted her back to the hotel. But he hadn’t. He’d made her comfortable. He’d taken care of her. She liked the idea of Josh caring for her.
Yawning sleepily, she slid her feet off the bed and onto the floor. She stood, swaying slightly as blood rushed to her head. When her equilibrium returned, she shuffled to the door and peeked into the dark hall. She bit her lip trying to remember which way to the bathroom. She shrugged and started out to her left. Her big toe connected with something hard and solid which in turn connected with the wall.
“Ouch,” she muttered at the small table, and steadied it with her hands, hoping the noise from the table scraping the wall hadn’t disturbed anyone.
She tried the first door she came to, peering in. Gr
iff’s room. Pale moonlight shone on the sleeping boy. Rachel stood watching Griff sleep for a moment. He’d become so dear to her. Quietly she closed the door.
She turned to head the other way and ran into a big, firm mass. A small yelp escaped her.
“You okay?” Josh’s groggy voice swept over her in the darkness, chasing away the last vestiges of sleep.
“Josh, you scared me,” she whispered back.
“Sorry. Heard a noise. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”
His sleep-husky voice sent a thrill down her spine. He was worried about her. “Just looking for the bathroom.”
“Over here.” His hand reached out and found her shoulder. Bits of fire raced along her arm and she trembled under the onslaught of emotions the heat sparked.
He guided her toward another door, opened it, flipped the switch and stepped back.
Rachel blinked in the sudden light. When she was able to focus, her heart twisted with tenderness. Josh looked so adorable standing there in his plaid flannel boxers and T-shirt, his hair mussed from sleep, his eyes drowsy and his expression unguarded. “Thank you for letting me sleep here tonight.”
He smiled a sweet, boyish smile that melted her heart. “Anytime.” He stepped forward and placed a feather-light kiss on her lips. “G’night.” He turned and shuffled down the dark hall.
Rachel’s breath caught and held as she watched him disappear into a room. The gentle caress seared her, branded her as his.
But would he ever claim her?
Chapter Fifteen
Her fingertips traced the warmth still lingering on her lips. He’d kissed her. Not a passionate, “I want you” kind of kiss, but a sweet, loving gesture that said “I care.” The poignant moment stretched as she considered the implications of that single little kiss.
He cared. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he cared. And if he cared, then love could follow. Not the same love from their teenage years. They were adults now. Different than they’d been back then. And their love would be different. If he could love her. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears.
