by Judy Duarte
“No, I just wanted some time to think. My attorney called and told me that Joe is being sentenced today, and that he’ll probably be spending the next ten years or so at McCrea.”
The state penitentiary, Molly realized.
Betsy had once been married to a man living two lives, a man who’d not only deceived his business partners, but his unsuspecting wife, too. He’d been arrested, tried and found guilty of embezzling millions from the company. But he’d taken a lot more than money from Betsy.
“Thank goodness we never had kids,” Betsy said. “It would have made things so much worse.”
Molly assumed she meant that it would be tough to explain to the children what their father had done. Or maybe she meant that a divorce would have been more painful with children and their feelings involved. It would have been harder to make a clean break.
Kids certainly changed things, just as Molly’s baby was about to change her life—and in ways she couldn’t yet imagine.
As she’d done several times since learning she was pregnant, she wondered what kind of a father Chase would be. She’d have to tell him about the baby, of course. But for now it was Molly’s secret.
She glanced at Betsy, half tempted to confide in her friend, but she was afraid to share the news with anyone. Maybe it was best to keep it to herself—at least, until she told Chase.
“Well,” Molly said, “I’ve dawdled enough. My shift starts in a few minutes, so I’d better get to work.”
Three hours later, Molly sat at the third-floor nurses’ desk, completing the discharge forms for Mrs. Wentworth, a woman recovering from an appendectomy in room 302.
The elevator doors opened, and Molly looked up. She spotted Chase getting out with a colorful bouquet of flowers in his hand.
Her first thought was that he’d come to see one of the patients, although she didn’t think there was anyone still here that he could have met during his own stay.
He wasn’t from Brighton Valley or the surrounding area, either, so the visit struck her as surprising.
“Fancy seeing you here,” she said. “Who are you here to see?”
“Just you, Nurse Molly.” He flashed her a crooked grin and handed her the bouquet.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said, yet she took the flowers from him anyway.
“Have you got time to join me for lunch?” he asked.
She wanted to tell him no, to insist that she’d meant what she’d said about them not getting involved. But as much as she wished otherwise, having a baby bound them together anyway, even if marriage or romance wasn’t in their future.
Unless, of course, he wasn’t interested in being a part of the child’s life.
She glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing that she could take a break if she wanted to.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a quick bite with him in the cafeteria, to lay a few ground rules for their friendship.
“Sure,” she said. “Let me talk to Carol and make sure she’s able to cover for me.”
Ten minutes later, after placing the flowers in the break room and deciding to deliver them later to a patient who hadn’t had any visitors during her stay, Molly went with Chase to the cafeteria, where they each filled a tray. He paid the bill at his insistence, and they took their food to a table in the back corner.
Chase had chosen a cheeseburger and fries, as well as a slice of berry pie for dessert, while Molly tried to be more health-conscious than usual by choosing grilled chicken, steamed vegetables, fruit and a glass of milk.
Her food was good, but his juicy burger looked a whole lot tastier.
“Most people prefer not to eat hospital food if they don’t have to,” she said.
“Yeah, well most people don’t have friends who work here.”
He’d thrown out the friends line as though he had no plans to change that, but she wouldn’t budge. She couldn’t. Of course, couples who chose to have platonic relationships probably hadn’t slept together and experienced the best sex they’d ever had, so it might prove to be difficult.
Not that Molly was saying Chase hadn’t experienced better. He really hadn’t come right out and said either way, although she suspected he’d rated it pretty high.
“I was serious about not having a relationship with you,” she said.
“I’m sure you were.”
So what was he trying to do? Wear her down? Change her mind?
She lowered her voice. “Making love again isn’t an option, either.”
“Do you plan to stay celibate the rest of your life?” he asked.
She’d gone more than a year without it the last time, and she’d survived. But Randy hadn’t been anywhere near as good a lover as Chase had been. And now that she’d had better—a whole lot better—she wasn’t so sure she’d like to go another entire year…
Boy. Going without sex that long sounded almost unhealthy.
Still, dating Chase in any way, shape or form would make her crazy.
“I care about you,” she admitted. “A lot. And the other night was off the charts. At least, it was for me.”
His eyes glistened, a result of some good old male pride, she suspected.
She let him revel in it as she continued her carefully planned speech. “But I can’t allow myself to get involved with you romantically. I’d be a nervous wreck each time you got on the track, each time you risked your life.”
“I’m very good at what I do, Molly. It’s not as risky as it might seem.”
She lifted a brow in disbelief, but held back a response.
“Sometimes you have to take a chance in life.”
“Are you suggesting I take one on us? I’d clearly worry myself crazy, and that’s a fact. So why should I jump into something I know won’t work? I see only misery for me. And for you, too. Because somewhere along the line, I’d probably issue that ultimatum you don’t want to hear. And then, instead of you remembering me fondly and our night together as special, you’d be left with bad feelings, bad memories.”
“There’s got to be a way for us to work through this,” he insisted.
“There isn’t.” If he continued to race—and she wouldn’t expect him to stop—there wasn’t any hope at all.
“But—”
“No, Chase.” She reached out and placed her hand on his forearm, her fingers gripping him, desperate for him to hear her out. “I need you to understand this. I can end things now and come out emotionally okay. But if I let things go any further, I’d only end up with a broken heart. And I’m sorry. I’m just not up for getting hurt that way. Not again.”
She’d suffered enough losses in her life. And if she didn’t protect herself from more, who else would?
She watched his eyes carefully, hoping he’d heard her words, that he’d gotten the message.
Chase Mayfield was the one man who would make her deal with her biggest fears on an almost daily basis.
Fears she couldn’t risk facing.
The only trouble was, it was too late. She was very close to falling in love with him already, and her heart had already suffered a noticeable crack.
Chapter Eight
A few days later, Chase met with Gerald Barden at a coffee shop just outside of Wexler for what Gerald had insisted was “a chance to catch up.”
They talked about everything but the topic of their last couple of meetings: the ultimatum Chase had been given. But Chase knew it was bound to come up eventually.
Finally, as their meal, a late lunch, was winding down, Gerald leaned back in his seat. “That was a nice thing you did.”
“What’s that?”
“Paying that kid’s medical bill.”
Chase shrugged it off. Initially, he’d wanted to impress his sponsor and to take advantage of some good press for a change. But the truth was, he’d actually enjoyed helping Diana Haines and her kids. And he’d gotten a kick out of Sudsy and Howard, the two old men who’d become the self-appointed watchmen of the Lone Oak trailer par
k.
“Other than that,” Gerald added, “you’ve managed to stay out of the news, so it looks like you took our little chat to heart.”
Yeah, well, being submissive hadn’t been intentional, but that’s the way it had panned out. Besides, Chase had bigger fish to fry these days, and impressing Molly beat the hell out of trying to impress his sponsors.
“We’re having a barbecue at the ranch on Sunday,” Gerald said. “It’d be nice if you’d make a showing.”
“I’ll stop by if I can.” Chase wasn’t going to make any promises, especially when he knew that Molly had Sundays off.
Then a lightbulb went on.
Ever since Molly had admitted that she was afraid something might happen to Chase on the track, he’d been giving her some space, hoping she’d change her mind. After all, she’d said that she cared for him, and he suspected her feelings might go a little deeper than that.
Sure, he understood that she was afraid of losing someone again. But living her life in fear wasn’t healthy. And the sooner she came to realize that, the better.
If she would only give them a chance, he had a feeling it would all work out—somehow. Besides, he didn’t like taking no for an answer. Not without a fight.
Maybe if he could introduce her to the racing world, if she better understood his life, they could work through things. And what better way than to bring her to the barbecue at Gerald’s ranch.
“Would you mind if I brought a date?” he asked.
Gerald arched a bushy gray brow. “You know that Pammy will probably be there.”
Chase knew what he was getting at. “Don’t worry about Molly and Pamela. If those two met as strangers anywhere else, they’d take a real liking to each other.”
Gerald took a chug of his iced tea. “Then if that’s the case, bring this Molly along. I’d like to meet her.”
“I’ll have to see if she’s available,” Chase said. “She’s a nurse, and her schedule varies.”
On top of that, he’d also have to convince her to go with him, which wasn’t going to be easy.
She seemed to think that she’d dealt with the death of her family, but that wasn’t the case. Not if she was afraid she’d lose someone she’d come to care about. And since there was definitely something brewing between them, he figured she was going to worry about him on the track anyway.
Sure, something could go wrong. There were inherent risks in all professional sports. However, Chase was good at what he did. He was aware of his skills on the track, as well as those of the other drivers.
Whether Molly knew it or not, he was a lot safer than she realized. So in spite of her reluctance, he was determined to win her over, to see if what he was feeling for her was real. And if it helped her get over her fears, which he really hoped would happen, then it was a win-win for them both.
He’d just have to turn on the charm.
If Molly would let her guard down and agree to go to Gerald’s barbecue, if she’d go out with him, maybe even sleep with him again…
Okay, so there were no maybes about it. He definitely wanted to take her to bed.
When the meal and their meeting was over, Gerald climbed into his black pickup, and Chase slid behind the wheel of the rental sedan he’d been driving. Normally he’d prefer to drive something nicer, something flashier, but for now, he’d decided it was in his best interest to remain not only under the radar, but also out of the limelight.
Racing season would be starting soon, and he needed to connect with Molly while things were relatively quiet and normal.
He’d tried his best to give her as much space as he could, but he didn’t want to risk finding out that the old adage “out of sight, out of mind” was true.
So he’d taken her flowers the other day, telling her it was a token of their friendship. Even at the hospital, with her hair pulled back in a clip and wearing a pair of pink scrubs, she’d been as pretty as she’d been the night they’d eaten at Cara Mia’s. And if anything, Chase was growing more and more convinced that what he was feeling for her was real and lasting, even if she was still dragging her feet.
Hey, she’d kept the flowers he’d given her. If she’d really wanted to end things, she could have refused to take them.
On his way back to the motor lodge, where he’d been holed up while he was trying to convince Molly they should be dating, he decided to stop by her house again. It was Thursday, which was usually her day off.
And who set up that schedule? he wondered. Thursdays and Sundays off? She didn’t even get two days in a row. What kind of break was that?
When he turned left and drove down Johnston Lane, he parked in front of her place, a yellow stucco house with white trim and a gingerbread-style flower box adorning the living room window. He left his car curbside and followed the sidewalk to the front porch, where her bicycle rested, secured by a lock.
He suspected she was home, but when he knocked at the door, he didn’t get an answer.
Was she out back?
Curious, he couldn’t help stepping off the porch, walking to the window, cupping his hands around his eyes and peering through the glass into the living room.
The lamp was on, which didn’t make sense considering it was still daytime. But now that he thought about it, she did that when she was expecting to come home after dark.
“Can I help you?” a female voice asked.
Chase turned away from Molly’s window, only to find a silver-haired woman glaring at him as though she’d caught a peeping Tom.
“I’m a friend of Molly’s,” he said.
The woman, stooped from age, straightened the best she could. “What’s your name?”
“Chase Mayfield.”
“The race car driver?” She cocked her grayed head slightly and squinted her eyes, checking him out.
“Yes, ma’am. That’s me.”
The lines on her face softened as she broke into a grin. “Well, I’ll be darned. I’m a big stock car fan.”
Chase reached out a hand and greeted her officially. “It’s always nice to meet someone who appreciates racing.”
“I’m Wanda Carlisle, Molly’s neighbor.” She looked him up and down, and her eyes glimmered with humor. “Are you that fellow I saw her kissing on this very porch a few weeks back?”
Chase chuckled. “I sure hope it was me. I’d hate to think she’s seeing some other guy.”
Wanda laughed. “If you’re worried about that, it’s plain to see that you don’t know Molly very well.”
Maybe not, but he was working on that.
Wanda crossed her arms, that grin never leaving her craggy face. “I’m happy to know she’s got a beau. For a gal as pretty as she is, she sticks too close to home. She really needs to get out of the house and kick up her heels every now and then.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Chase said, thinking he’d do what he could to remedy that and appreciating the fact that Wanda would be cheering him on when he did.
The elderly woman took a few steps to the side so that she could place her hand on the railing that led to the porch, as though needing the support. “Molly’s a wonderful person and the perfect neighbor, but she’s a workaholic, and I don’t think that’s healthy.”
Was that her real problem? Chase wondered. Was she too committed to her job and unable to cultivate a life for herself when her free time was limited to Thursdays and Sundays?
Wanda lifted an arthritic finger and pointed it at Chase. “Now don’t get me wrong. I admire the nursing profession, but up until you came along, she had very little life outside that hospital. And what’s worse, someone keeps calling her to come in and work on her days off, just like they did this morning.”
“She’s at work today?” he asked.
The woman grumbled something indiscernible and slowly shook her head. “You’d think Brighton Valley Medical Center would have other nurses they could call. But I suspect they don’t bother since it’s usually a given that Molly will say yes.”
But that was okay. He would just have to wear her down with smiles and flowers and invitations to dinner.
“It was nice meeting you,” he told Wanda.
“Same here.”
“Well,” he said, making his leave, “if you’ll excuse me, I need to get going.”
She watched as he began to head for his sedan. “Where are you off to?”
He was glad that Wanda was concerned about Molly, but she was still the classic nosy neighbor. He flashed his unwitting cohort a smile. “Looks like I’ll have to go to the hospital if I want to spend a little time with my girl.”
While covering for Sara Mendez in the E.R., Molly again had the opportunity to work with Betsy. And as usual, the time had passed quickly in a busy emergency setting.
They’d had a stroke victim earlier who’d been admitted and sent up to the fourth floor, as well as a guy who’d nearly severed his finger with a Skil saw at work. There’d been a lot of blood, and as Betsy had unwrapped the shop rag from the patient’s hand, Molly had suffered a wave of nausea. For a moment, she’d even felt faint.
Sure, she’d had that problem a time or two in nursing school, but she’d gone years without an adverse physical reaction and hadn’t expected one today.
She suspected that pregnancy hormones were at play, and she made up her mind to decline any more time in the E.R. than necessary, since that’s where she was more apt to see the types of injuries or conditions that could make her woozy or sick.
They’d managed to stop the man’s bleeding, but Betsy had called in a surgeon who specialized in hands to actually suture the wound. She’d thought that he’d damaged the tendons, and she’d been right.
Next, they’d dealt with a drug overdose victim, as well as a fifty-two-year-old golfer who’d driven his cart into a tree, fallen out and broken his shoulder. Molly had smelled alcohol on his breath and wondered if there was a law against driving on a golf course while intoxicated, but shrugged it off when she took a second whiff and suffered another flash of nausea.
All in all, it had been a busy afternoon. But right now, while there was a lull in the E.R., Betsy chose to take a dinner break. Molly, who was able to clock out and head home, decided to join her.
