His ears had still been ringing and the dust flying when he’d opened his eyes and wished his father was close so he could say...something.
Now he was here. And he understood his father better than he ever had. But he might wish there was someone else, too, someone who could hijack his brain now and then.
On the other hand, loving someone that much meant being vulnerable. He could still see the shadow of that loss on his father’s face.
Suddenly too tired to keep going, Dean wrote down his cell number and handed it to Mark. “Thanks for keeping me in mind. This story you’re working on with the school lunches, I can help. I’ve already got some inspiration.”
This was what he did. Go where the news was happening and find the shot that captured the thousand words people needed to understand. The realization that he didn’t have to go to a war zone to do that made it easier to believe he could settle in Tall Pines. He could be happy here.
“Excellent. The story’s important to Andi and the sheriff, so that means I want a pro. And I’ll give you a call next week sometime to see if you and Dr. Watson can show me around. I bet there’ll be some excitement no matter what happens.” Mark pinned the scrap to a bulletin board. “Another attraction in the area’s good for all of us. Don’t forget about advertising when the Bluebird reopens.”
Dean nodded and thought about asking Mark to be his impartial judge. One of the challenges he faced was not being able to predict where people would fall. Mark was a relative newcomer, so he could be more open to change. On the other hand, he seemed pretty popular with the ladies. The doctor might be another friend of his.
That thought didn’t sit well with him.
Edna seemed a much more certain bet, even if he had to take a chance on talking about his assignments.
Before Dean could bring up the proposal of a brand-new fishing lodge to test where he would land on the issue, Mark said, “I’ll call with work. You call with advertising. Or just to shoot some hoops.”
Something else he wasn’t used to: making plans. The luxury of knowing he’d be able to catch Mark again to talk about work or music or Edna or whatever was nice. No way was he unloading all his baggage, but maybe a beer and a game of pickup basketball now and then would be ideal.
Whenever Dean was asked if his career was lonely, he mentioned crowded markets, soccer games that sprang up in the middle of the street and the fact that modern communication meant he was never really far away. All of that was true, but it wasn’t quite the truth.
Don’t start crying on the guy’s shoulder. Leave before you embarrass yourself.
Dean cleared his throat and told himself he was not seeing sympathy in Mark’s eyes. “We’ve got a plan.” He waved and stepped onto the sidewalk. The tourist crowd had thinned while he’d been inside talking.
The long walk down the town’s main street to where he’d parked gave him time to figure out what he should do next.
Sleep would be good, Dean thought as he got into his Jeep and headed out of town.
Back at the Bluebird, his first clue that something had changed was stepping out of the vehicle onto nice, neat grass. Someone had mowed the weeds so instead of a ragged jumble of green patches, Dean was looking at a nice, nearly level lawn.
“We have a lawn mower?” Of course there was a lawn mower. His father had been taking care of the place, just not as well as his mother had demanded. Mowing had been a weekly chore when she was around.
That one simple step brought back some of the shine.
He wished he’d done it days ago.
Not that he’d ever tell Elaine.
Dean rolled his shoulders to ease some of the tension and stopped in the shade of the porch. The dock was empty. The rocking chairs were still. Her car was parked on the other side of the big shade tree, so she had to be here somewhere.
“Hello? Elaine?” he shouted as he stepped inside the house. The bang of the door startled him, and he had to catch his breath before he could hear her faint answer coming from...the kitchen?
* * *
THIS WOULD BE horribly embarrassing, but she couldn’t just stay here, stuck under the cabinet she couldn’t quite lift. Calling out to Dean Collins for help was her only choice.
“Dean? Can you hear me?” The last part was wheezier than she liked, but it was hard to breathe with a cabinet pinning her hips.
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” His lips twitched as he surveyed her predicament.
Elaine dropped her head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. “Could you please help me out?” She’d been so certain she could handle this all on her own. She hated being wrong.
He opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. In one quick movement, he stood and lifted the cabinet with a grunt. “These things are heavy. How’d you get them in here?”
Elaine took a deep, satisfying breath. “One at a time. The old-fashioned way.” She eased up and then flexed her arm. “Wiry muscles.”
He offered her a hand. She studied it for a minute, thinking she really ought to refuse, but then decided that saving her from being pinned under a cabinet might be worthy of a truce. When her hand slipped into his, though, she almost yanked it back. His grip was strong. Solid. Warm. He pulled her up. “Are you okay?” For a second all she could do was look at her hand in his. It was nice, a connection she didn’t expect.
Then he leaned down to look into her eyes. “Did you hit your head?”
Her crazy, high-pitched laugh was almost as embarrassing as landing in this mess. “Uh, no, just a slow slide down and then the angle... I couldn’t get any leverage.” She eased her hand from his and ran it through her sloppy ponytail. “I’m glad you were here. I was about to resort to praying for really strong mice.”
He propped both hands on his hips. “Dangerous. I would not want to meet a mouse that could lift a cabinet.”
“Very good point.” Elaine stretched her arms, grateful for the room to move. “But I made some progress.” She pointed at one wall. “That one’s completely done. Well, except for attaching the countertop. I couldn’t get it through the door by myself.” She waited for him to congratulate her or make some sort of acknowledgement.
“Wow. Something you can’t do.” Dean turned to go.
“Hey, wait.” Elaine yanked off her glasses and wiped them on her shirt. What good was working so hard if he didn’t even notice? “You could help me, and then this project would be finished. It won’t take long.”
“Mowed the grass. Rebuilt the kitchen. Day one’s been successful as far as making your mark, hasn’t it?” Dean sighed. “And I’ve been wandering around, trying to recognize Tall Pines.”
Wondering why his comments made her feel shallow for wanting to win the day, Elaine shrugged. “It hasn’t changed all that much, has it?”
“Maybe not. Maybe I remembered it wrong.” Dean glanced at the three remaining cabinets. “Okay. What else am I going to do with my time?”
More than once, Elaine had seen couples on home-improvement shows enter nuclear meltdown. But after successfully refueling the mower and cutting the lawn, she’d felt invincible. Not even cabinets that weighed as much as small cars could stand in her way.
Elaine had been sure she and Dean would end up in a rolling scrum if they tried to work together.
But she was wrong. Dean grumbled through mounting the remaining cabinets. She bossed a little over the countertops. He grumbled again while hanging the doors, but all in all, it was a successful job. Working with him was easy and a lot more enjoyable than struggling alone. More than once, she had to hide a smile at his complaints, and his good-natured response to her orders made her wonder what it would be like to do something with Dean that was actually fun.
Then she noticed an undeniable tilt to the second set of cabinets.
“No way. We did a good job. We can’t help it if the walls aren’t absolutely even. I’m done for the day. I think I’ll take a cold bottle of water to the dock and try to catch up on the staring into space I missed this afternoon.” He paused in the doorway. “You can come, too. In fact, you should.”
“But the project’s not finished yet.” She could hardly believe he’d walk away like this. It was just wrong. Do your best. Finish the job. Her father hadn’t given her a lot of sound advice, but he’d scribbled that message in the card attached to her high school graduation present. His wide grin had matched her mother’s that day. In fact, they’d gotten along at every award ceremony and graduation, and Elaine had learned that winning was the only way to pull her family together...if only for a brief snapshot.
She’d been sticking with his simple rule for years now. Her best had gotten her pretty far, and she never left a job undone.
“The cabinets are hung. It’s a kitchen again. It’s fine. Now it’s time for a break.” He pointed to the door. “I have other plans. I’ve invited you to come along. Don’t make me regret it.”
There was no way she could get the countertop off and adjust the cabinets by herself. Not tonight. Her arms had already reached limp noodle status, and if she could stand upright in the morning without a groan, it would be a miracle.
He tapped his watch. “Daylight’s burning, Doc. We did good work. Now we goof off. That’s the Collins way.” Then he disappeared around the corner.
Robert Collins hadn’t written that motto in a greeting card. He’d probably modeled it enough for Dean to pick it up.
“Fine. I’ve done a lot today. No one would blame me for taking a break.” She forced herself to let go of the screwdriver. It rolled down the counter and then clattered to a stop. Elaine grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, turned away from the drooping counter, found a couple of ibuprofen in her purse and actually followed him.
She surprised herself with that.
But he’d been such a big help that it was difficult to say no. Besides, she hadn’t dealt with Robert’s request. While she’d been pinned under the cabinet, she’d tried to analyze what Dean’s problem might be. There was almost no way his issue wasn’t something like post-traumatic stress disorder. The places he’d photographed would contribute enough stress to make it nearly inevitable.
Understanding what drove him could undermine her will to win, but she couldn’t ignore anyone who needed her help.
Elaine was a much better doctor than contractor. Here was a chance to prove it.
CHAPTER SIX
HE WASN’T SURE she’d follow, and he honestly didn’t know whether he wanted her company. Something about working with her made it hard to remember that she was a competitor.
Probably the fact that she worked harder than just about anybody he’d ever met.
And complained less than most.
He hadn’t expected that.
Seeing her wrung out after a day of hard work helped him understand that she was human. Instead of a beautiful prop for the renovated Bluebird, Elaine was messy with a sharp wit. He’d wanted to laugh at her comments more than once during their short project, but her focus demanded efficient work.
A doctor who decided to mow the grass for the fun of it? He figured she’d have a much higher opinion of what her time was worth. Given the choice of spending a beautiful summer day on the lake or in the grimy, physically demanding world of home improvement, Dean would not have chosen replacing the cabinets.
But it had been more fun than he’d expected.
“Here.” He looked up to see her holding two ibuprofen. “Thought you might need this as badly as I do.”
“Thanks.” He took the pills and washed them down with a swig of water. “Who knew solid wood cabinets could be so heavy?”
“I’m definitely going to have a long conversation with Robert Collins about taking them down by himself,” Elaine said as she sat next to him. When her feet hit the water, her relieved sigh made him smile. “Thanks for your help. I was out of steam before the cabinet took me down.”
He glanced over at her. Elaine was stretched out beside him, propped up on her hands, her face turned up to catch the setting sun. Her crisp shorts were now wrinkled, and her white T-shirt was covered in the dirt of decades. The ponytail that had started out perky was bedraggled, but she wore a smile on her face.
Being with her shouldn’t be this easy. Instead of restless and ticked off, he just felt...tired. Maybe even peaceful.
Her relaxed expression made him wonder if she felt the same kind of peace here. Then he was curious about what kind of worries followed the top doctor in town. Successful, smart, beautiful. Surely Elaine had it made.
He should not have asked her to invade his space, and he should definitely brush off her thanks, just to make it clear her good opinion didn’t matter. They were opponents.
But he didn’t really want to be alone.
That could be a bad sign.
“No need to thank me, but you’re welcome. I would never have guessed you were such a hard worker.” When she opened one eye to squint at him, he shook his head. “You’re not easy to keep up with.”
“‘Do your best. Finish the job.’ That was my father’s advice, and I try to remember it.” She eased back to lie against the weathered wood and crossed her arms over her stomach. “We both recognize there’s plenty of work to do here, and I’m not sure the cabinets count as a finished job.”
“Because we didn’t do the work of professionals?”
“Well, they aren’t perfect.” Her matter-of-fact delivery confirmed his suspicion that she was ambitious in everything she did. Objectively, he could admire her drive, but he was glad he didn’t have to live with it.
“I’d rather be realistic. Those cabinets are up. We can use them. There was never much hope of perfection anyway. Do you know how old this house is? The walls are uneven. So are the cabinets. Even professionals would have a hard time.” Dean looked at Elaine and decided to follow her lead. He stretched out on his back with his hands behind his head. “Maybe I’ll actually sleep tonight.”
They both stared up at the clear sky. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes to savor the moment.
“You know, if it’s insomnia, I might be able to help,” Elaine said quietly. “Even if it’s more, you could talk to me. I’m the best doctor in town. I have references.” He turned his head to see her watching him.
“You’re going about this all wrong.” Dean rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand. “A ruthless winner would be plotting ways to hurt me, not heal me. You should be sabotaging my plans instead of working all day on a place you don’t even own yet. Now the best doctor in town is covered in bruises.” He ran a finger down her arm and watched her shiver.
He wanted more—a kiss maybe. Or just the chance to wrap his arms around her and watch the sunset. Not alone. Together.
Not that she’d sit still long enough for that to happen.
Elaine sat up. “Believe me, I’m telling myself the same thing. I should keep my distance because I might not win. But this place makes me want to do whatever it takes even if that means getting bruises.” She rested a hand on his arm. “And win or lose, I’ll help you if I can. It’s kind of in the job description. A good night’s rest can make the whole world look better, you know?”
“My mother used to say something like that.” Dean closed his eyes again. He wished she’d just lie down and be still. He enjoyed having her near, but he didn’t want a diagnosis.
“Did your sleeping problems begin when you came home?”
“No. They’ve been building. Listen, we don’t have to do this.
I owe you more thanks than I could ever give for helping my dad, but I can handle my problems.” Dean took a deep breath. “I need some time to decompress. This place should be the best medicine.”
He opened his eyes to see her nod.
“I can’t argue with that. Also, hard work should help.” Then she smiled at him. “You’re welcome.”
Again she shocked him by not insisting that he go for a test or take a pill.
The memory of his father’s concerned stare when he’d brushed over his nightmares and her relaxed acceptance of whatever he wanted to say and refused to admit made him wonder if she might be the only person in Tall Pines who could help him.
She listened. She didn’t push. And she wouldn’t hurt for him or be hurt by his memories.
Her success with his father suggested she had a knack for handling tough cases.
“We did good on our first day without a referee,” he said.
She stretched, and the small bruises on her arm caught his eye. He wished she’d waited for him instead of wrestling those monsters alone.
“Sure. No fistfights or anything. We spent...what, two hours together? That’s nothing to brag about.”
“Not a bad start. It was good for me to spend some time in Tall Pines, introduce myself to the newspaper editor. I could use the assignments.” Work was something he could depend on. Always. No matter how tough the situation got, he could pull out his camera and tell a story. That made him feel strong. Solid. Almost normal.
If this thing with the Bluebird didn’t pan out, all he’d have left was the work.
She sighed. “Yeah, Mark’s done a nice job since he took over the newspaper.”
Dean waited for her to say something, anything else. Mark Taylor probably got along with everyone he met and must have a Tall Pines fan club. Did they have a history? Maybe she was the ex and hadn’t quite recovered yet.
The Bluebird Bet Page 7
