by Cheryl Wyatt
He also respected his personal limitations, plus the well-being of his overworked crew. “No argument here. Let’s give them a report, turn over the floor and head out.”
One of the PJs, Brockton Drake, approached. “You look whooped. Go home, man. Get a good night’s sleep.”
Mitch stretched. “I will but I have a unique date first.”
Lauren’s head popped up from behind a computer chart she took notes on. He couldn’t discern her expression, but knew it was one he’d never seen on her face before.
She blinked a couple times then closed the computer and walked off. Weird. He might’ve imagined it. Nope. Brock stared at her then faced Mitch. “Who’s she and what’s wrong with her?”
Mitch watched Lauren retreat like a soldier under fire. “She’s Lem’s granddaughter, visiting for the summer. She’s also a nurse who’s helping here sporadically. Name’s Lauren.”
“Why’d she walk off like that?”
“I’d like to know that very thing.”
Brock refaced Mitch. “It’s good to have you back in the States. Sorry your engagement with Sheila went south.”
“Thanks. We never actually got engaged, though. She turned me down even after I bought the ring she picked out.”
“Man, heartless. What happened?”
He shrugged. “She moved with her unit and moved on from me at the same time. Fell for another guy.”
“That bites. But, hey, better to have it happen now. I hear Ian couldn’t talk his wife out of a divorce.”
“Yeah. He’s having a rough go of it. Deployment and distance decimated a lot of relationships overseas.”
“Not all of them, though. And you have a date, so it seems you’re bouncing back okay.”
“Actually, the date is with one of Lem’s tractors. Specifically Lauren’s tractor, Bess.”
“Lauren’s the girl you’re into?”
Mitch handed Brock the patient roster. “I’m not into anyone. Especially not her. She lives in Texas.”
“What’s wrong with Texas? Part of our training’s there.”
“I have nothing against Texas. I love it, in fact. I just have a problem with being attracted to someone so far away.”
Brock grinned. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You like her.”
Did he just say that?
Brock tapped papers on the desk. “We have training ops the next couple weeks, but let me know if you need help after that.”
“Might take you up on that. Lem added fixing Bess to my already-tight summer to-do list. I don’t mind though, and would never want him to regret asking or feel like he’s a burden.”
“I hear he’s done a lot for you.”
“More than I could list in a lifetime. Anyway, he says Lauren loved to ride the tractor. So he asked me to make fixing Bess my top priority. I want to oblige Lem, even though it’s another unexpected time-sucker.”
“I hear ya.”
“Hopefully fixing her tractor will put her in a good mood about my being at Lem’s tomorrow.”
“She has a problem with it?”
“Pretty much. It boils down to us both having lofty summer goals yet little time. Plus our plans clash on all fronts.”
“You’re innovative. You can figure out a way for them not to.”
“In theory. In reality I won’t be able to get Lem’s stuff done once the center hits full status in the fall. The way we’re getting slammed now, I only have this summer to do projects I put off due to deployment.”
“I don’t get what Lauren’s problem is.”
“I have to be at Lem’s to do the chores, and Lauren wants uninterrupted, undistracted time with her grandpa.”
“Doesn’t sound feasible.”
“It’s not. She’s struggling emotionally, so I’m giving them the space I can. But I need to be there most of my spare time or projects won’t get done.”
“I can help with the time-sensitive stuff a couple days before I leave and more when I get back. What all is there?”
“Might be easier to list what doesn’t need repaired.” Mitch chuckled. “I have a feeling some of it is Lem wanting me to be there when Lauren is.”
“Cupid’s arrow?” Brock laughed.
“Totally. Anyway, in addition to misguided matchmaking, Lem has a leaky roof, basement flooding and a rickety porch all the way around. I’m afraid the railing will give way and he’ll take a tumble.”
“We’ll get that stuff knocked out when I get back.”
“Awesome. Thanks, Brock. I appreciate you and your team stepping in to help.”
“Keeps our paramedic skills up. I’ll call you later about helping at Lem’s.”
“I owe ya one, buddy.” Mitch clapped Brock’s shoulder. With Brock being the only unmarried member of his pararescue team, he probably needed to keep busy anyway.
“Nah. Just pay me back in chili. I hear Lem’s is kickin’.”
Mitch laughed. “It is. Sounds good. See ya later, Brock.”
Mitch twisted his watch then peered around. Where had Lauren gone? Probably with Mara, the texting teen. He really wanted to go work on Lem’s old tractor as promised so Lauren could ride it. No rest for the weary. And no romance for the wary. Cupid could kiss off. Hear that, bowhead? Abort mission. This arrow won’t fly.
Mitch talked with a few PJs, signed patients off then located Lauren, quietly stocking surgical rooms. “Ready?”
She didn’t meet his gaze. “Sure.”
“Something wrong?” Mitch asked in the truck. She hadn’t spoken since leaving, and Lem’s place was now a few miles away.
She shrugged. “Thanks for dropping me off.” She fidgeted with his dash. Nervous gesture? If so, he wished she’d get her fingers away from the bad memory bound up in the glove box.
“Sorry to infringe on your date time.” What? He scrambled to remember any conversation that might’ve led to the assumption. Then it hit him.
Mitch burst out laughing. “The date I mentioned is with a farm contraption named Bess. Your tractor, to be exact.”
Lauren’s cheeks reddened. “Oh!”
He decided neither to press nor tread.
By the snarky gleam entering her eyes, her thoughts about the misunderstanding must be too caustic to mention.
* * *
He did not want to know what she was thinking. He’d conclude her as a cross between the ultimate curmudgeon and ambivalence at its finest.
She’d completely shocked herself by experiencing disappointment that he was interested in someone. That sure came out of left field. It had so rattled her, she’d had to power-walk halls until her head had cleared. But then the saner part of her had kicked in—the part that preferred he had a date. It meant more opportunities for her to have quality time with Grandpa.
Would Mitch intrude on their time all summer? The more she got to know him, the more caring he seemed. Couldn’t he see it bothered her not to have all the time she could with Lem?
Time to start dropping heftier hints.
“Need to stop anywhere on the way home?” Mitch asked.
Home. The word startled her coming out of his mouth. The ambivalence flared both because he thought of Lem’s as home and because Mitch’s use of home put him in a sudden domestic light.
“I’m dying for a cola.” Grandpa normally kept his fridge stocked with her favorite goodies. This was the first time he hadn’t. Of course she had dropped in with little notice. “I’ve taken too much for granted.”
Mitch eyed her keenly. Compassion grew evident. Surely he’d be considerate of her need for time with Grandpa. She didn’t want to smite Mitch’s feelings or make him feel unwanted. She knew how that felt and didn’t want to inflict it on others.
Still, he was beginning to rea
lly step on her proverbial toes. Thinking that made her wiggle her real ones, which ached from all the work they’d done.
She flexed her ankles. “I definitely need better shoes,” she said at a gas station he pulled into.
Mitch’s gaze found her feet. “Those look sensible.”
Sensible? Lauren eyed her foot attire. “Hmm. I wonder when I went from stilettos to Dr. Scholl’s.”
He laughed. “Lem said you love to dress up.”
“Not anymore.” Fairy tales were made only to destroy little girls’ dreams. She unlocked her seat belt.
“Really?” He lent his hand, helping her from the truck. Warmth trickled up her palm and her wrist.
Once down she swiped her hand across her leg, but the feeling didn’t go away. “Occasionally I used to dress up and go out with my girl pals on weekends.”
His eyebrows lifted as they headed in. “Used to?”
She shrugged. “Too much going on. I let my social life dwindle.” Her dating life, too, thanks to her reclusiveness since the lawsuit. Another reason she didn’t want to be around Mitch.
Everything about him reminded her of what she’d lost or given up. A career in the medical profession she’d dreamed of since a childhood tragedy took her parents away. Then the loss of her young patient that took that dream away.
Not only had her patient’s death in childbirth left a newborn motherless, Lauren knew what it felt like to grow up without a mom, which is why she clung all the more to Grandpa.
Plus Mitch’s closeness with Grandpa put her mind in a dark place and brought to light just how far she’d drifted away. After all, Grandpa’s pantry was loaded with Dr. Pepper, which Mitch drank. Not the Pepsi or Coke she liked.
She didn’t blame Grandpa for filling the void, but at least he could focus on her a smidge more than Mitch during her stay here. But Grandpa seemed oblivious to the idea for some reason, which admittedly stung. And scared her.
Were his mental faculties slipping?
Grandpa used to know her like the back of his eyelids during sleep. He had always perceived her feelings and soothed them.
Something had changed. Shifted.
And it was as depressing as school on a snow day.
When she reached the counter with her fountain soda, Mitch was waiting with a case of Coke and Dr. Pepper. “I got this.” He included her soda in his bill, then leaned close at her befuddlement. “Don’t protest. Just say thanks.”
Making matters worse, Mitch smelled like a man, smiled like he meant it and stared at her like she could someday mean something to him. Despite that she’d been intentionally cranky.
In short, he sounded, looked and felt like family.
But she wasn’t about to be stupid enough to tell him.
* * *
“I insist!” Lem said upon their arrival.
Mitch and Lauren’s gazes collided. They cracked simultaneous smiles. No doubt they were thinking the same thing. There was no arguing with Lem after his mind was made up.
“Okay, Grandpa. You can make us dinner.” Lauren’s wink did funny things to his pulse. Lauren’s gaze glittered. His lingered. He felt stricken with how, in moments like these where Lem’s one-of-a-kind quirks surfaced, he felt magnetically drawn to Lauren.
No matter how much they disagreed, their mutual love and admiration for Lem became an unexpected bond for them.
He snuck Lauren’s case of soda into the pantry. Lem was probably too preoccupied with house repairs to ponder his usual special touches. A tiny reminder couldn’t hurt because the twinge of pain in Lauren’s eyes each time she had to move something of Mitch’s over in the pantry or fridge was beginning to undo him.
Lem gave a grand arm wave. “In fact, you should’ve brought your entire trauma team. I imagine they’re hungry after all that hard work.”
“I invited them, but Ian’s helping Kate move. She found an apartment, though it’s farther from the center than she had wanted.”
“Well, let ’em know they’re always welcome here.”
“They know, Gramps.” Ugh. Lauren stiffened every time Mitch used the title. Yet Lem was the one who had requested Mitch call him that. Maybe he hadn’t expected the hurt it caused Lauren.
If Lem knew how much it bothered her, he’d probably dissuade Mitch from referring to him that way while she was here. But old habits die hard. He needed to dial it down this summer—for Lauren’s sake. Lem had an affinity for bringing people together and pulling fringe dwellers into the fold.
“At least let us help you cook.” Mitch bent to haul out the heavy-duty saucepan, but Lauren lifted a lighter one instead.
“He uses that one for spaghetti,” Mitch explained before thinking. The fallen look to her face hit him hard.
He hadn’t meant to tout how much more familiar he was than her with Lem’s current domestic dealings.
Head dipping in a dispirited manner, she pushed the pan back into the cabinet and raked silky hair behind her ear.
Mitch drew close. “Hey, sorry. I—”
Her upshot palm abolished his apology.
At first he thought she was too mad to listen or speak. Yet the gloss surfacing in her eyes and rapid blinks hinted of hurt and unspeakable pain. His heart dropped through the floor, squeezed with concern then swelled with empathy and compassion.
Amid the rush of emotion, he almost reached for her. No telling what stopped him.
She schooled her features as Lem clomped back in with a sack of potatoes. Mitch rushed to take them, which earned a dirty look from Lem, who muttered something about being capable of carrying taters. Lem’s protests elicited a fragile smile from Lauren.
His guilt eased, yet his concern for her deepened. Maybe he needed to be more sensitive?
Likewise, in time perhaps she’d be less sensitive.
Something more than simple jealousy had fueled it. He was determined to find out what.
Moonlight slivers shone when Lem held back the curtain. “Since it’s dark, I suggest we wait until tomorrow to mess with cantankerous Bess.”
Mitch helped carry serving dishes to the table. “Remember Brock, one of the Refuge PJs?”
Lem nodded. “The brawny, strapping, amber-haired one?”
“Yeah. He’s coming over here tomorrow to help me out with some projects on that to-do list.”
“That’s right nice of him. I’ll have some lunch in the fridge for you, how’s that?”
Mitch smiled. “Brock loves hard work almost as much as he loves food. So that’ll suit him just fine. He mentioned chili.”
“I’ll thaw a big batch then. Lauren and I have a special day planned tomorrow. Don’t we, carrottop?”
She looked nervous, like Grandpa might bring Mitch into it. “Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’m looking forward to getting some stuff done here,” he said to alleviate her fear that he’d try to intrude on their day. Little did she know he was working on a project for her benefit. Not just for Lem, but Mitch found himself looking forward to seeing the joy on Lauren’s face when Bess fired up.
Bess the tractor had refused to run for years. Four and a half, to be exact. Lem said Lauren loved to tinker around on her.
He’d had no reason to run Bess since Lauren moved away because he had other tractors that were more dependable and less sentimental.
Bess pretty much ran on her own terms, kind of like Lauren. He knew because Lem had confided generously.
Maybe that accounted for why the bond he felt with Lauren seemed stronger than the norm for two people who’d recently met. Lem had been telling them stories of one another for years now.
Mitch would be better off to leave the bond alone. Feeding the romance brewing between them would be foolish on several fronts. Among his old heartache and new work resp
onsibilities that gave him pause, Lauren lived too far away for going further to feel safe.
Chapter Seven
Lauren couldn’t remember looking more forward to a day. “Turkey and Cheddar Jack’s my favorite.” She tucked the sandwiches she’d made into a picnic basket on Grandpa’s table.
“Mine, too. Except I prefer provolone.” Grandpa set a thermos of coffee near their cooler basket.
“Since when? You’re the one who got me hooked me on Cheddar Jack.”
“Since Mitch turned me on to provolone.”
Familiar slices of jealousy cut through her. She fought it with a vengeance and a prayer. This day is too important to let unruly emotions ruin special time with Grandpa. Lord, please help me.
“Let’s go outside and pick us some fruit for the day. We’ll be in the boonies and out late, so let’s stock up in case we get stranded hunting abandoned mansions to explore, like old times.”
They headed out with a bowl and plucked apples, peaches and pears from Lem’s few fruit trees. While he didn’t have a lot of trees, they all yielded an enormous amount of fruit.
“Grandpa, we need to pick these peaches or the branches will crack. They’re bowing and will be brushing the ground soon.”
“We’ll do that when we get back. How’s that sound?”
“Good. What will we do with all those peaches?” She wondered if Mitch liked cobbler or pie best. Then she wondered why she was wondering so much about Mitch today. His genuine smile yesterday upon hearing of her and Grandpa’s excursion had been the first thing she’d pictured upon waking this morning.
It had solidified in her mind how caring Mitch really was. He truly did have the best interests of others at heart. Yet he also had an air of strict self-protection that she’d really like to breach in order to better understand him.
What would a man that amazing have to be afraid of?
“Let’s let the rest ripen.” Grandpa started back inside.
Lauren followed, carting two bowls of fresh fruit. “Did you remember to set out chili for Mitch and his friend?”
