Always

by Deb Stover

  It was painfully familiar.

  "What's wrong?" Taylor asked, reaching out to touch the back of his wrist with cool fingers. "You feel all right?"

  "No, I don't think either of us is going to feel all right after we go inside." He turned to Taylor with a sigh. "Guess who's coming to dinner?" The setting sun bathed her in shadow, but he still saw her bewildered frown.

  "Well, I guess we are," she said.

  Gordon jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at the blue sedan. "Unless someone else Sue knows has the very same car, which I doubt in a town the size of this one, we're about to...."

  "To what?" She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and squeezed hard. "Gordon Lane, stop teasing me and tell me whose car that is."

  He rolled his eyes heavenward, then looked at her. "My mother's."

  "Oh." Taylor fell back against her seat, releasing him at the same time. "That means..."

  "Yep." Gordon gripped the steering wheel with both hands. "That means she's heard about you being here, and I'll bet Ryan's gotten an earful, too."

  "About...us," she said unnecessarily. Her sigh equaled his own. "This should be interesting."

  "I'd say that's an understatement-and-a-half." He started to chuckle, then the more he thought about it, the louder he laughed.

  "What's so funny?"

  He turned to look at her shocked expression. "All of this."

  "All of what?"

  "This. Us. The irony." Gordon's laughter died in his throat. "Think about it, Taylor." His voice fell to a whisper. "Think about it."

  His blood roared through his veins, screaming "Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her." He'd like nothing better. All sense of reason fled and he reached out to touch her cheek with the backs of his fingers. So soft...

  But she left me–didn't trust me.

  Still, he couldn't stop himself from touching her, savoring the feel of her skin. Memories and pain bombarded him until he could barely breathe.

  Taylor leaned into his caress, and he brought his other hand to her opposite cheek. This felt so right, almost as if she'd never left.

  But she had left.

  No, he wouldn't listen to that vindictive voice. Not now. At this moment, all he wanted was to taste her lips, to see if she was as sweet now as before.

  "Gordon?"

  The sound of her voice fueled his need and he inched toward her. Closer. Closer. Closer.

  Bam!

  A loud thump on the Jeep's hood made them both leap back, gasping. The sun was low enough now to trigger the motion detector on the floodlight. Gordon squinted at the harsh interruption.

  "Hey, Gordon," Ryan slapped the hood of the Jeep again. "Hurry and come inside. Your mom's here. Boy, she sure knows a lot of stories. 'Course, I don't believe half of 'em."

  "Hmm. Yeah, I'm sure she does." Gordon looked over at Taylor and saw the rapid rise and fall of her chest, though she kept her face averted. They'd come so close.

  So close to making a big mistake.

  Damn. He didn't need this. His blood pressure undoubtedly hit the critical point as he wondered how he'd ever survive this evening with the woman who'd broken his heart ten years ago, the woman who wasn't interested in him as anything more than a friend, and his mother.

  All in one place at the same time.

  Chapter 4

  Taylor held her breath as she followed Gordon to the aqua front door. He'd almost kissed her, and she would have let him. What had come over her? High school madness? She was an adult now. She could handle this.

  Get tough, Taylor.

  Sue gave her a nervous smile, and Taylor remembered to breathe just in time to prevent a blackout. She had to face the past, the present, the future.

  And Gordon's mother.

  "Thank you for inviting me," she said, though her thoughts were just the opposite. Why had she let Sue talk her into this? Oh, hell, she knew why. Because she had to live among these people for the next three years, and making peace–or at least proving she could ignore the past–was a prerequisite to continued sanity. Hers.

  "Hi, Taylor." Sue's voice sounded subdued, but her smile was open and genuine. "I'm glad you could come. Priscilla is here. She's in the kitchen."

  "Yeah, we heard," Gordon said from behind Taylor.

  Ryan bounded past with a toy airplane, making noises Taylor hadn't realized a human could produce. Of course, her mother'd often said that little boys could sometimes be called human-esque. Now Taylor understood why. Her own brother had been two years older, but she did remember more than a few incidences of somewhat inhuman behavior.

  A smile of remembrance tugged at her lips and she looked around Sue's tidy living room. The beige and mauve decor was warm and homey. One wall boasted photos of Ryan at various ages, from infancy to present. A cast-iron wood stove occupied one corner. Summer evenings at this altitude often included a warm fire.

  "Dinner's almost ready," Sue said, turning toward the kitchen. "I thought we'd eat on the back porch since it's so nice this evening."

  "Something smells great," Gordon said, taking Taylor's elbow and steering her toward the kitchen. "If I ate here every night, I'd weigh three hundred pounds."

  Why don't you eat here every night? Taylor cast him a sidelong glance and swallowed the lump of trepidation lodged in her throat. She should forget the past, but she couldn't. Unanswered questions tormented her.

  The kitchen was clean and spacious, with white cabinets, appliances, and ceramic tile. A blue stenciled design adorned the woodwork, giving the room a country French appearance. Of course, Sue had always been artistic.

  Taylor tried to nudge aside memories of her teen years,

  when she and Sue had been practically inseparable. In some ways, losing her best friend had hurt almost as much as losing her first love. She drew a sharp breath and released it slowly.

  "Sue, shall I dress the salad?" Priscilla Lane asked as she stepped through the back door.

  "No, we'll let everybody do their own." Sue took a tray and slipped behind Priscilla and out the back door.

  Priscilla's lips pressed into a thin line as her son bent and kissed her on the cheek.

  "Hi, Mom. Surprised to see you here."

  Mrs. Lane patted Gordon's shoulder and inclined her head

  –an impossibly tight array of frosty curls–toward Taylor. "So you came home at last, I see."

  "It's good to see you again, Mrs. Lane." Taylor's pulse thrummed in her ears and perspiration coated the back of her neck. Once upon a time, Priscilla Lane had been like a second mother to her. "I'm here temporarily."

  "Three years, I hear." Mrs. Lane lifted her bony shoulders in a shrug. "Think you can manage that long, or will you run away again?"

  "Mom." Gordon's voice held a warning, but it went unheeded.

  "It's the truth." Mrs. Lane lifted her chin, her bright blue eyes piercing Taylor. "She ran away once, she could do it again." She tilted her head to one side and arched a silver brow. "Just don't take my boy's heart with you this time."

  "Maybe I should just–"

  "Cowards always run," the older woman said, pivoting to grab the salad dressing and a stack of blue gingham napkins. "You come from good stock. Show us some of your family's backbone, Dr. Bowen. Show us the girl you used to be."

  Without another word, Mrs. Lane vanished through the back door again. Gordon met Taylor's gaze, his expression part apologetic and part something she couldn't define.

  Mrs. Lane is right, and I'm no coward. She squared her shoulders and drew a shaky breath. If she didn't let Gordon and Sue matter, they couldn't hurt her again.

  But they did matter. Both of them.

  Ryan zoomed through again, still playing with his airplane. "Patches is sure glad to be home," the boy said as his plane took a nosedive, then shot straight up with appropriate sound effects.

  "Is he out back?" Gordon turned his attention to the child.

  "Yep, but he gets to sleep in my bed tonight." Ryan grinned. "Mom said he could, since he's been sick."<
br />
  Gordon chuckled and patted Ryan's shoulder. The child stopped moving at last. "Remind me to have a look at him before I leave."

  "Sure." Ryan resumed his trip to Mars through the back door. "I'm starved."

  "Let's eat," Gordon said.

  He gave Taylor a lingering look that drifted down the front of her sweater and made her face–and other regions–flame. She realized his mind wasn't on food, and the thoughts ricocheting through her brain and libido definitely didn't require salad dressing. Well...

  "Dinner?" He pointed toward the back door. "They're waiting for us."

  She shook herself and licked her suddenly dry lips. Yep, I've gone way too long without a man. Combing her fingers through her hair, she strode past Gordon and onto the screened-in porch. Lamps burned at both ends of the enclosure, and a long table was set with white pottery and blue gingham.

  "You sit there, Taylor." Sue pointed to a chair at the far end of the table. "Gordon?" She indicated the chair on the corner beside Taylor. Ryan and his plane made a low pass. "Park it right there, fly boy."

  The child obediently dropped into a chair between his mother and Priscilla Lane. Apparently food was not only the key to a man's heart, but also an effective means of controlling wayward boys. Taylor made a mental note.

  Gordon's long legs brushed against hers as he took his seat. He shifted his knee away from hers, but his heat radiated through space and zeroed in on her without benefit of physical contact.

  Why? He wasn't making a pass, touching her, trying to touch her, or showing any indication that he wanted to touch her. Why did she react so to his nearness?

  Memories? Of course, what else could it be? Taylor squared her shoulders, plucked her napkin from the table and placed it in her lap. Resolutely, she looked around the table until her gaze rested on Gordon's mother.

  Taylor Bowen was no coward.

  Tonight was for appearances only. After this, she would avoid social engagements involving the past. She had to. She peeked at Gordon through veiled lashes. He was staring at her again and the pressure in her chest grew.

  Yes, if she avoided these situations, she might actually survive this assignment. It would be easier to avoid personal entanglements at the clinic, and that was only temporary. Soon she would be at the new clinic and wouldn't have to see Gordon, Sue, Ryan, or Mrs. Lane at all, except as possible patients. She'd be all right until then, though the thought of playing doctor with Gordon raised her temperature a few degrees.

  "Playing" doctor is not allowed, Taylor.

  Beneath the table, Gordon clenched his napkin into a tight wad as he struggled with the onslaught of emotions and memories. How much of this crap could a man take in one day? And his day had started damned early with Taylor's surprise visit this morning.

  "Sue tells me that fool Tom Bradshaw wants Taylor to practice at your clinic," his mother said, forking salad onto her plate.

  "That's right." Gordon took a roll from the basket in front of him and passed it.

  "How long will this office sharing go on?" The expression in his mother's eyes was accusing.

  Like I asked for this? "Until the clinic is completed." He glanced at Taylor, immediately wishing he could shut his mother up. Mom's questions were tormenting them both.

  "The mayor didn't say, exactly," Taylor said, passing the butter dish to Gordon. "I forgot to ask, but I'll do that tomorrow."

  His mother took the butter dish from Gordon and rolled her eyes. "Well, tending people in an animal hospital is mighty ridiculous, if you ask me."

  Which we didn't. Gordon took a bite of his roll and it stuck in his craw. He quickly washed it down with iced tea, wondering how he'd managed to end up seated beside Taylor. Suspicion niggled through him and he shot a glance in Sue's direction. Uh-oh.

  Was she? Could she? Would she?

  Sue's cheeks turned crimson beneath his scrutiny. Dear God, the woman really was trying to play matchmaker. He sighed and shook his head, hoping she would catch on, but she jumped to her feet.

  "I'll get the lasagna. Spinach. I hope that's all right with everybody."

  "Sounds lovely." Taylor shifted in her chair and her knee brushed against his. She jerked back as if burned.

  Gordon would deal with Sue later. Realizing that Taylor was as uncomfortable as he was disturbed him. He inched his legs closer to his mother, hoping to spare Taylor further distress.

  Hell, why should he spare her? She was the one who up and left ten years ago. She was the one who made the choice to abandon him and everything they'd meant to each other. No, let her squirm. The more, the better, in fact.

  He maneuvered his legs back directly in front of him.

  She slid hers away.

  He stretched his right leg out, his calf finding her shin. There, that was better. He forked salad into his mouth and chewed on a cherry tomato, casting her a surreptitious glance from the corner of his eye. Her face was as red as the tomato.

  Suffer. A small voice in the back of his mind told him he was being rude, and even unreasonable, but he told it to shut up and let him have his revenge. After all those years of hoping she would come back to him...

  Yes, revenge was sweet. He rubbed his calf against her shin very slightly, so it could pass as an accident. Oh, yeah. Revenge could be very sweet indeed, as long as it didn't backfire.

  "Taylor, how are your folks? I've missed your mother, though she sends a Christmas letter every year."

  His mother's voice made Gordon flinch inwardly, as if he'd been Ryan's age again and she'd caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. Of course, Taylor Bowen had become his cookie of choice around age sixteen. He focused on her again, noting the glisten of moisture along the side of her neck. He twitched his lips, wanting to taste her. Damn.

  "They're fine, Mrs. Lane."

  "Call me Priscilla, please. You used to. And how about that handsome brother of yours? Mike, isn't it?"

  "He's practicing medicine in Denver, actually."

  "Denver?" His mother looked appalled–not unusual. "And he hasn't come for a visit? That's only fifty miles from here."

  "He's very busy, but he'll come up to visit me, I'm sure." She smiled. "In fact, he's promised to help me secure a research grant. Uh, if I don't go back east, that is."

  "But what about Digby?"

  Taylor blinked and played with her napkin. "I'm only here for three years. Remember?"

  "Well, perhaps you'll change your mind before then," his mother said. "About a lot of things."

  What the devil...? His mother's voice sounded much calmer and friendlier now. She was treating Taylor as if nothing had ever happened. In fact, it seemed as if she suddenly wanted them to–

  No.

  "I'm sorry I was hard on you earlier, but it's a mother's instinct to protect her young."

  Gordon coughed and grabbed his iced tea again.

  "And though Gordon is pushing thirty–"

  "Twenty-nine," he corrected, then chomped on a piece of ice with all his suppressed fury.

  "Like I said, pushing thirty," his mother continued unruffled, "he'll always be my little boy."

  Ryan let out a hoot and a snort.

  "Watch it, squirt," Gordon growled. "Thanks, Mom, but in case you haven't noticed, I'm big enough to take care of myself now."

  "So you say."

  Gordon placed his face in his hands and groaned. "I don't believe this."

  "You aren't the only one."

  Taylor's voice surprised him and he looked between his fingers. Her face was still flushed, her eyes snapped, and her lips were pressed into a thin line.

  She was pissed, just like that time her brother had borrowed her bike without asking, then left it at the curb where the trash truck ran over it.

  "Mrs. Lane–Priscilla, I think there's a lot more to what happened ten years ago than you realize." Taylor drew a breath and placed her hands palms down on the table. "I definitely didn't return to harm your...little boy."

  Taylor's gaze shifted to him
on the last two words. Gordon groaned again. Ryan laughed louder than before.

  Mom stiffened, then gave a grudging nod. "All right, Taylor. Welcome home, then."

  "What's going on?" Sue asked.

  Gordon uncovered his face and watched their hostess place a steaming casserole dish on the table. "You don't want to know."

  Sue glanced from Taylor to Gordon's mother. "Yep, you got that right." She picked up the serving spoon. "Who wants lasagna?"

  Gordon sighed and looked at Taylor again. She chewed her salad furiously, her eyes dancing with victory. He held his breath as she slipped her foot out of her sandal and rubbed it along his leg.

  She was playing dirty, and his body responded with infuriating enthusiasm.

  "Lasagna, Gordon?" Sue asked.

  He gave her a weak smile. "Got any crow?"

  * * *

  After consuming two glasses of wine and reliving every school play and significant event from kindergarten through high school with Priscilla–the woman definitely seemed to have recovered from her unreasonable anger–Taylor was ready to call it a night. Besides, tomorrow was her first day as a real, practicing physician.

  Even if it would be in an animal hospital.

  However, she was quite pleased with the way tensions had eased as the evening progressed. No blood drawn by either side, even during the clean-up with three women in the kitchen.

  "I have an early morning, so I think it's time to call it a night," Gordon said, mirroring her thoughts. "Ryan, let's have a look at Patches before I leave."

  Taylor watched Ryan sail by, then a moment later a tail-wagging bundle of energy joined him in the kitchen. The dog seemed fine. In fact, it was adorable. She'd always had a fondness for dogs, especially Gordon's Max. Maybe someday she'd settle down in one place long enough to have one of her own.

  She followed Ryan to the living room, where Priscilla was already pulling on her sweater and retrieving her car keys from her purse. Surviving an evening with Gordon, Sue, and Priscilla was nothing less than a miracle. Taylor gave herself a mental pat on the back.

  And a silent sigh of relief.

  "Hey, you're looking good, Patches," Gordon said, dropping to his knees to peer into the dog's eyes. He scratched Patches behind the ears and the mutt seemed to melt into the floor at Gordon's feet. "Like that, huh, boy?"