by Beth K. Vogt
The woman’s smile lit up her dark brown eyes. “Griffin it is. I wanted to let you know that Kendall doesn’t know you’re here.”
“How did you pull that off?”
“I put a false name in the schedule. She thinks you’re a new patient—that’s why you have forty-five minutes. And why you’re scheduled at the end of the day.” Her gaze seemed to weigh his character, estimating his ability to pull this off. “I hope you realize my job is riding on your conversation with my boss.”
“Your job. My future. There’s a lot at stake.”
Was the room getting smaller? Maybe the medical assistant should check his blood pressure.
“I need to get back up front.” Evie gave him a thumbs-up and another grin. “I’m rooting for you.”
“Sure you are. You don’t want to lose your job.”
“I want Dr. Kendall to be happy.” Evie paused as she left the room. “You are going to make her happy, right?”
“That’s the plan. Here’s hoping your boss goes along with it.”
Left alone again, Griffin sat in a cloth chair positioned across from the door. Stood and walked a slow, small semi-circle around the room, which took all of ten seconds. Sat again.
He’d waited three days for Kendall to call him—and realized she probably never would. Which meant going behind enemy lines to convince her that he was her friend—a friend who’d fallen in love with her.
Relax, Walker, relax. You’re not here for a physical.
True, but doctors and flight surgeons wielded too much power over his future. Did he fly? Didn’t he fly? Final answer, thanks to the medical board: He didn’t. And today yet another physician would determine his future. He would lay his heart on the line for Dr. Kendall Haynes and let her decide what happened next.
Griffin wrapped his fingers around the gold chain hanging around his neck, his father’s wedding band hidden against his heart beneath his blue polo shirt.
God, help me do this right. Help me tell Kendall how I feel. Don’t let her kick me out of her office. Don’t let her fire Evie . . .
He stopped mid-prayer as the door swung open halfway. Kendall spoke to someone standing outside.
“I’m going to see Mr. Smith—”
Mr. Smith? That’s the best Evie could come up with?
“—but let me know if you get those lab reports back on Lily.”
Griffin stood as Kendall walked into the room, releasing the gold chain, prayer unfinished. Her usual white lab coat with the Rocky Mountain Family Practice logo covered a casual dark dress. She held out her hand to greet him.
“I’m Dr. Kendall . . . Griffin?”
He hadn’t realized how much he missed her until only a few feet separated them. Her eyes widened, searching his face as if trying to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. A thin band of dark purple ribbon adorned her short-cropped hair. He knew he needed to take things slow—talk first in the hopes of earning the right to kiss her later. But all Griffin wanted to do was bridge the space separating them and pull her into his arms.
“Kendall.”
Her name came out sounding husky, as if he had a cold. He cleared his throat, knowing he needed to talk fast or she would think he conned his way into an appointment so he could get a medical checkup.
“What are you doing here? Where’s Mr. Smith?” Kendall peered around him as if expecting to find someone else lurking behind the exam table.
“I’m Mr. Smith.”
“No, you’re not.” She looked at the clipboard that held the papers for Mr. Smith. Looked back at him. “What’s going on?”
Griffin approached her, surprised when Kendall took a step back.
“You didn’t call me back. And I needed to see you.” He took another step toward her.
“Why?” She stepped back again.
“To clear things up.” Step forward.
“Why?” Step back.
“Because I made a mistake.” Step forward.
“What?” Step back—right into the closed door.
Fine. Now they could stop the evasive maneuvers and talk things out. Griffin took another step toward Kendall and reached around her to lock the door.
“What are you doing?” Kendall grabbed his hand. “This is my office. And you aren’t able to lock the door.”
So much for blocking her exit. “Fine. Evie knows you’re in here. She also knows why I’m here. And I know I have a forty-five-minute appointment. Which gives us plenty of time to talk.”
Only now he talked to the top of Kendall’s head because she refused to look at him. Instead, she stared straight ahead, right at mid-chest.
“I am going to dock her pay.”
They stood so close to each other, Kendall’s words were muffled against him.
“She was afraid you were going to fire her.”
“I just might do that.” She pushed against his chest. “Back off, Walker, you’re crowding me.”
Griffin took both her hands, holding them near his heart. “Kendall, hear me out.”
She refused to look at him. So close and yet so far away. He was going down fast.
When he knelt in front of her, a small gasp escaped Kendall’s lips. “What are you doing?”
“I need to say some things, and I want to look you in the eye when I say them.”
Pulling her hands away from his, she tugged at his shoulders, “Stand up, Griffin. This is ridiculous.”
“Not until I say what I came here to say.” Griffin never imagined himself kneeling at this woman’s feet, but he’d stay there all day if he had to. He gathered her hands in his again. “Kendall Haynes, the first time we met, you rescued my brother. I didn’t know you were going to rescue me. I didn’t know how much I need you in my life. Falling in love with you was so unexpected. I don’t even like doctors.” That admission won him a small smile. “Until you. You challenge me with your strength. You heal me with your gentleness. You made me believe in me again . . . in the possibility of love again.”
Kendall’s eyes searched his face. “Why are you saying all this now?”
“I realized how much I love you. How much I need you. Life without you is . . . wrong.”
He wasn’t sure how Kendall would react to what he said next, but he had to finish what he started.
“Kendall, I know we have things to figure out. Ian’s coming back to live with me. The fact that I can’t have children hasn’t changed—”
One minute he was talking, his words tumbling over one another in a rush to get past all the reasons Kendall shouldn’t marry him. The next minute she leaned down, her fingers tightening against his, and whispered, “Stop talking.”
Why was Mr. Strong and Silent a talker all of a sudden?
Enough words already. The man was driving her crazy.
It didn’t take a doctor to diagnose how Griffin’s heart rate increased when she lowered her lips to his. Kissing Griffin Walker was a heady mixture of controlled passion and the comfort of finding safety after too many nights alone.
Kendall missed him even more than she realized. The way his strength steadied her as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close against his chest. The way his love knocked her off balance even as it grounded her. This was where she was meant to be: loving Griffin Walker.
He ended the kiss only to press warm lips against the pulse beating just below her ear, then rested his head in the hollow of her neck. She stood in his embrace, eyes closed, overwhelmed by the reality that Griffin had come back. For her.
“Hey, Doc—” His voice rumbled against her ear. Low. Husky.
“Yes, Mr. Smith?” She couldn’t keep the hint of laughter out of her voice.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Oh, the freedom to say those words.
“And I want to marry you.” He held her closer, if that was even possible.
“If that’s a question, my answer is yes.”
He pulled away from her, just enough so that he could look at her.
“Before you answer me, think about what you’re agreeing to, Kendall. I can’t have kids.”
“I know that.”
“It’s not that I don’t want kids. I do. We can—”
“You’re ruining the mood here, Walker.” She placed her hands on either side of his face. “Focus. Proposal.”
“I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting when you say yes.”
“I do know. I’m getting you. And Ian, of course. And whatever else God has planned for us. And he promises that his plans for us are good.”
A knock on the door interrupted their conversation.
“Dr. Kendall?”
Kendall buried her face in Griffin’s shoulder with a groan. “That’s Renee. It’s probably about the labs . . .”
Griffin refused to release her. “Tell her to come back. Tell her you’re giving me a thorough physical.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Just the thought made her knees go weak. “By now Evie’s told everyone just who ‘Mr. Smith’ is.”
“Fine. Then tell her that I haven’t finished kissing you yet.”
“That’s enough, Griffin.” Kendall slipped out of his arms, sidestepping his attempt to kiss her again. She motioned to the chair across the room. “Go sit over there. Behave.”
Kendall straightened the collar of her lab coat before opening the exam room door. The sight of her entire staff waiting for her brought her up short.
“Do you have the results I was waiting for?”
“Yes. Paul handled them.” Renee tried to conceal a smile—and failed. “Do you need any help with Mr. Smith?”
“No, no. I can take care of Mr. Smith myself.”
Evie stood at the back of the group, biting her bottom lip. “Am I fired?”
“I’m not certain what I’m going to do about this—and your part in it, Evie.” She paused half a second before giving her receptionist a slow wink. “I just may give you a raise.”
From behind her, Griffin came, took her hand, and pulled her back into the office. Before shutting the door, he said, “I’m going to insist she give you a raise, Evie. A good one.”
A star-filled sky. Griffin Walker. And an after-dinner drive in his Jeep up Gold Camp Road.
Romance came wrapped in all sorts of unexpected packages.
Dinner? Sharing barbecued ribs at Griffin’s favorite restaurant. This, despite jet lag tugging at her eyelids, insisting she give into her body’s demands for sleep after a nonstop, weeklong celebration with Rachel, Sonia, and Melissa. Who knew the women had no intention of sleeping while they were in Mexico? Instead, the trio interrupted every single Skype session with Griffin, dragging her off to parasail or snorkel or hike to some ancient ruin.
Tonight’s after-dinner activity? Stargazing while wrapped in Griffin’s arms as they stood in his Jeep, taking advantage of the fact that he’d removed the soft top. The entire expanse of the sky stretched over their heads.
“You comfortable?” Griffin snuggled her up closer to his body, careful to keep them balanced as they stood on the backseat.
Kendall leaned against him, her head resting against his chest. Inhaled the heady mixture of the crisp night air and Griffin’s appealing clean scent of soap. She’d have to make sure to find out his preferred brand and stock up on it. “Couldn’t be better.”
“I missed you.” He rested his chin on the top of her head.
“So you said—every time we Skyped.” She turned and kissed his scruffy jaw—just because she could. And because she wanted to. “Speaking of Skyping, the girls interrupted us right when you were going to tell me the significance of your tattoo.”
“Really? My tattoo?”
“I’m curious.” Kendall settled back in his arms. “I want to know why the man I love would get some kind of freaky-looking wolf-dog-beast-thing tattooed on his back.”
“It’s not that big a deal.”
“Then tell me.”
Griffin exhaled a sigh. “Since it’s so important to you. The tattoo is of my Academy cadet squadron’s emblem. We were Third Squadron, called Cerberus Three. In Greek mythology, Cerberus was a three-headed dog that guarded the gates of the underworld.”
“And you got this tattoo because—?”
“Some of my friends and I decided to celebrate ‘Hundreds Night’—that’s when we have one hundred nights before graduation—by getting the tattoo. End of story. Satisfied?”
“One more question.”
“Mmm-hmm?”
She tilted her head to try and make eye contact with him. “You planning on getting any more tattoos?”
“Nope. I’m good.” He brushed a soft kiss across her lips. “You know, this is one of the few times we’ve been together in my Jeep that it hasn’t broken down.”
“Thanks to my mechanical skills.”
After Griffin’s chuckle faded, they stood in silence for a few moments, the shadows of the night sealing their embrace. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance as an invisible breeze rustled the nearby evergreen branches.
“Look at that!”
Griffin pointed to an arcing point of light streaking across the night sky. Before it disappeared, he reached up his hand, closing his fingers as if he’d grabbed hold of something.
“Got it.”
She could hear his smile as he held his closed hand up in front of them. “Got what?”
“A falling star.” With his left hand, he turned her left hand over, prompting her to hold her hand open, palm up. Then he placed his fist in the palm of her hand, before taking her other hand and covering them both with his left hand.
“When I was a little boy, my dad told me that if you catch a falling star before it disappears, it’s yours to keep.” He leaned close so he could whisper in her ear. “I’ll share it with you.”
His words brought tears to her eyes even as laughter spilled over her lips. “Griffin—”
“You want to see what a falling star looks like?”
Griffin moved her top hand away from his and then unfolded his fingers. In the darkness, she could see the outline of a ring on the palm of his hand.
“Griff—”
It was as if Griffin had reached up and plucked the jewel from the stars strewn across the cobalt-blue sky and somehow formed it into a ring. If she touched it, would it disappear?
“This is the magic of catching a falling star.” Griffin’s words, spoken low, served only to deepen the feeling of an enchanted moment for just the two of them. He slipped the ring, warm from being held in his hand, onto her finger. “It can turn into a dream come true. This was my mother’s engagement ring. I remember how she said that when my father put it on her finger she found something better than a fairy tale.”
The ring was a mere outline of a band and the glint of a jewel.
“My mom was a woman of strength and gentleness—like you.” Griffin lifted her hand and placed a warm kiss where his offering rested. “It’s an emerald, surrounded by diamonds.”
“I’m sure it’s exquisite—and I’ll treasure it because it was your mother’s ring.”
“I can’t do this properly and kneel, since we’re in the Jeep. But Kendall, I couldn’t be more serious. Will you—”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t finish.”
“My answer is still yes. Now stop talking.”
“You always gonna be this bossy?”
“Only when I need to be.”
Kendall turned in his arms, her hands sliding across the soft material of his cotton shirt, and then holding on as his kiss overwhelmed her. His tenderness left her completely undone—an intoxicating mixture of wanting the kiss to last forever and needing to pull away to catch her breath. Loving Griffin Walker would always be a dizzying adventure of falling in love, following where God led them . . . and believing, no matter what, that they were each other’s oh-so-unexpected dream come true.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My husband, Rob: Thank you for never once asking, “Why don’t you c
ook anymore?” And thank you for being an amazing brainstorming partner. You’re really good at helping me think out loud, you know? And thanks, too, for answering all my medical questions—the fictional ones for the book, I mean.
My kiddos, including my daughter- and sons-in-love: Thank you for accepting that your mom is a writer, which means y’all cook dinner when I don’t. And thanks for cheering me on. It’s a wonderful thing for a mom to embrace the support of her children.
Rachel Hauck, aka “Mentor Mine”: There came a time during the writing of Catch a Falling Star when I said you were either going to make me a better writer—or you were going to kill me in the trying. Well, I’m still alive. Thank you for pushing me past myself. I treasured every email, every Facebook comment, every phone call—and especially the times we Skyped! Let’s do it again, shall we?
Susan May Warren: Thank you for locking the doors when I thought about abandoning the Dark Side of the writing road and escaping back to the familiarity of nonfiction. Whenever I doubt myself, I hear your voice in my head saying, “You can write fiction, Beth.” Your encouragement keeps me going when I want to quit.
The My Book Therapy Core Team (Alena, Edie, Lisa, Melissa, Michelle, Reba): Every writer needs a “safety net”—the people who talk her off the ledge when she feels like jumping. Each one of you represents a strand of “safety” for me.
My “Spiritual Ground Support” (Barbara, Shari, and Sonia): Thanks for praying for me as I wrote CAFS. Being able to send the three of you emails saying, “Here’s what I need this week . . .” made such a difference for me. You gave me hope—and laughter, too. Lots of laughter.
Angela Gainer: A conversation with you was the catalyst for Catch a Falling Star. Thank you for being my friend . . . and for sparking this story idea.
Sonia Meeter, my “Preferred Reader”: Thank you for being my first set of eyes on this story—for letting me know when it worked, and when it didn’t. Without your insights I wouldn’t have been able to write Evie’s part of the story.
Rachelle Gardner: You’ve taught me that an agent is an invaluable resource of professional, advisor, mentor, and friend. When someone asks who represents me, I am always proud—and oh so grateful—to say you.
