by Cheryl Wyatt
“Like the person who killed your dad, Mitch? Seems I’m not the only one projecting my ire into the situation.”
That one stung because his face flinched. She felt bad throwing that out there, but she had no other way to make him see she wasn’t the only villain here. Yes, her jealousy warts needed removing, but she and God were working on that.
He wordlessly left the room, probably to cool down before he knocked her in the head with a potato. In his absence, Lauren confiscated Lem’s to-do list. If she could finish some of it, that would help everyone.
Problem was, Grandpa kept adding more and more to the list.
Mitch stood after the three had breakfast, during which Lauren and Mitch did their best to be congenial. “Is this all you need?” Mitch slid Grandpa’s shopping list closer to him.
Lem donned his spectacles. “Yeah, only, go ahead and grab a couple of big watermelons, too, while you’re at it.”
Mitch tucked the list into his chest pocket. “Will do.”
“Going with him?” Lem asked Lauren.
When she started to shake her head, he all but shoved her out the door. “Mitch might need help with those melons.” Lem winked at the two and retreated to his chair.
“Right.” Lauren gave Mitch’s bicep a playful squeeze. “I can see he needs help.”
Mitch’s laugh eased the tension. They shook heads all the way to his truck.
“He’s ornery.” Lauren adjusted her seat.
“That’s an understatement.” Mitch maneuvered winding roads connecting Eagle Point to Refuge.
“We go out to eat Sundays after church. You should join us.”
“Grandpa will expect me there soon, huh?”
Mitch grinned. “Probably so. You know him well.”
Her head snapped up. “Why wouldn’t I? He’s my grandfather.”
Not yours.
Mitch’s forehead wrinkled, but he stayed silent. His lively eyes dimmed so perhaps he perceived her prickly thoughts.
Remorse slammed her. What possessed her to spew that? She placed her hand on his. “I’m sorry, Mitch. That was uncalled for. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.”
“Long hours with Lem? Stress? Lack of sleep?” He smiled.
“No, this is more deep-seated, something further back.”
“No offense taken or meant. I know you don’t need to be reminded that you’ve been gone from Lem a long time. You’re having a hard time coming to terms with it.” He shrugged it off.
And forgave her just like that? Her heart melted another measure toward him and all he stood for. Wondered against her will what other amazing things there were about him. Stuff she’d never discover living in Texas. Away from Grandpa. Why, oh, why had she set down roots so far from the one person she wanted to be near?
“Maybe not reminded, but I should be taken out and whipped with a willow switch.” She meant it, too. “Stupid loan.”
Mitch sailed a kind look her way as he merged onto the main road. “Don’t be so tough on yourself.”
“There’s nothing I should know about his health, should I, Mitch?”
“No. He’s healthy despite his fear of turning seventy.”
“So you know about that?” Relief rippled through her.
Mitch nodded. “That’s partly why I came over to sneak you away. To discuss a few things about Lem. I’ve run every test imaginable. I don’t think he’s anywhere near death.”
“But sometimes they just know.”
“True. But in his case, I think it’s mostly fear-based.”
“Mostly?”
He seemed to want to say something else but decided not to.
“Mostly doesn’t make me feel good. What’re you not telling me?”
“First, it’s no secret I want you on my trauma team.”
“Wow. Blunt as a bulldog clamp.”
He laughed. “I say that to be up front because I think the biggest part of Lem’s problem is loneliness.”
“But you’re here now and you seem close.” She plucked madly at her hem. “Plus he has his library crew and church buddies.”
“He misses you. You’re his closest living relative.”
“Actually, he has a sister and a nephew not far from here.”
“Lauren, I meant that you’re the closest to his heart. He loves you like nothing I’ve ever seen.” Mitch’s eyes grew tender, as though his soul carried the full weight of empathy for Lem.
Lauren looked down at her hands, wringing like wayward pretzels in her lap. “I know. I regret moving away. But I’m bound to my shop building.” Distress over her decision waylaid her.
Mitch inclined his head. “Are you sure about that?”
Increasingly nervous, she thumbed the glove compartment. “It would take a lot to get me out of that loan.”
Mitch smiled but kept his attention on the hairpin curve he was navigating. “I know Someone who specializes in that.”
She aimed her finger at his chiseled cheek. “If by the grace of God I am able to quickly pay off the loan, don’t get any ideas of trying to turn me back into a nurse.”
He adopted a militant expression. “I can’t turn you into something you already are.” They pulled up to a train crossing and stopped as one passed.
What could she say to that? Nothing. Because other than Grandpa paying for her initial schooling, she had no idea why she’d hung on to her Texas license after the lawsuit. The judge had deemed her nonnegligent and had said all evidence proved that no amount of medical intervention could have saved the patient.
So why did Lauren still feel responsible?
She met Mitch’s gaze head-on. “Another thing you’re not considering is I have to leave sometime anyway. I live in Texas, remember?” Stress pressed her fingers hard into the glove box. The button clicked, and it tumbled open, spilling out a velvet box. Lauren eyed the floorboard. The box had popped open, and resting between its ridges shone a sparkly diamond solitaire.
She reached for it. “Whose ring is—?”
Mitch beat her to it. Snatched it up in an iron grip that reminded her he was a combat vet. He tossed the ring box back into the glove compartment. Train gone and bars lifted, Mitch proceeded.
Lauren saw that beside the ring sat her note. Crumpled.
Upon seeing her startled reaction, he schooled his posture. His slowed motions didn’t smooth the jagged look on his face.
“Okay, I gotta know. What’s with the ring? Whose is it?” she asked as they entered Eagle Point.
She expected Mitch to take on his hallmark lighthearted grin. He didn’t. Rather, hurled an irate glare at the glove box, closed like the conversation. Why did he harbor a ring he hated?
She’d obviously opened a wound. Remorse and an unexpected surge of care for Mitch rose within her. “I’m so sorry, Mitch. Please accept my apology,” she said in a small but sincere voice.
Mitch eyed her, then the glove box, and visibly relaxed.
He stayed silent until they stopped.
“So what all are we getting?” she asked tentatively, having a childhood flash of Lem’s sister yelling at her when she asked her to remember a certain sewing stitch Lauren’s mom had shown her. Her great-aunt had practically yelled her into next week.
When Mitch relaxed rather than tensed at her voice, Lauren’s fear of him screaming at her dissipated.
“I’m picking up stuff for Lem’s chili cook-off tomorrow. We rescheduled the others due to trauma calls.”
She sought a subject for small talk. “Ian’s coming, I hear.”
“My entire crew is,” he said flatly. Yet the soft look never left his face. He seemed…disappointed somehow. In her? A bad feeling went through her about the way he worded his last phrase. Before this, Mitch had always i
ncluded Lauren when he mentioned “his crew.” Not today.
Had he already begun to distance himself from the idea of having her on his team? Wasn’t that what she wanted? Then why did his words nick like a scalpel?
He faced her. “Look, I overreacted. I’ve been meaning to tell you thanks for your note.”
She scoffed. “Yeah, looks like it really meant a lot.”
He sighed. “Lauren, come on. Don’t be like that.”
“I made a nice gesture and you smooshed it.”
“I said I was sorry. I am sorry. It’s just complicated.”
She rested her hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Mitch. I understand complicated. But I don’t understand why you trashed my note.”
His jaw clicked. “I can’t tell you that.” His eyes tendered. “Okay, fine. For what it’s worth, I do like you.”
What? How did he like her? The thoughts went swirling in her mind because there were only two possibilities. And she didn’t know which scared her most at this point. Him liking her romantically, or just as a friend.
Oh, boy. She might be in real trouble here.
At the store, Mitch chose a cart. “Need anything?”
To see you smile. “Maybe.” She giggled as girls passed.
He peered delightfully down at her. “What’s so funny?”
“You’re oblivious to the fact that you’re the sort of man who whirls women’s heads wherever you go.” Giddiness engulfed her. Elation bubbled at the thought that Mitch liked her. She tried to tamp it back down, but like Lem’s buoyant butter bowls in the dishwater that day, it kept bouncing back up.
“I don’t whirl yours,” he said wryly. Then peered at her with an almost-vulnerable expression before refocusing ahead. His breakup must’ve shattered his self-esteem.
She cleared her throat and hauled up courage. “That’s because I’m walking alongside you, going the same direction. If I were passing you, trust me, my head would whirl. But don’t get all egotistical about it.”
That almost wrought a smile. “Lem says it’s been a while since your breakup. He thinks you’ve been too busy hiding behind Texas sewing machines to socialize or date.” He bumped her elbow, but left his arm in contact with hers while they walked.
She did not know what to think, so she just rolled with the lovely flow. Plus hid an impending blush by heaping mass amounts of dark chocolate in the cart. And a yogurt.
Mitch eyed her goodies and grinned gorgeously down at her. Finally. Relief spread through her. He wasn’t still mad at her insensitivity before.
Even better, he settled his arm against hers again after she broke contact to retrieve items from shelves.
Once they had their items in their cart, plus things from a list that looked like Grandpa’s, they headed to the check-out.
“He hates shopping,” Mitch said as she eyed the familiar scratchy scrawl of half cursive, half print, slanted up the page.
She nodded, feeling heartsick for unrecognizable reasons. “He still does, huh?”
“Yeah. Although he’s capable, he’d rather delegate it.” Mitch spoke more tenderly than the words required. He was obviously acutely aware of her fear regarding Grandpa.
She dug out her wallet. “My treat,” he countered. She attempted to protest, but he squared wide shoulders and issued his this is doctor’s orders look.
“Thanks.” Her laugh made his eyes sparkle. “How embarrassing that I filled the cart with chocolate!”
“That’s okay. I fully expect you to share. It’s my master plan to sweeten you up.” He had a decidedly handsome smirk.
She pressed hands to her hips as they exited. “Sweetened? Why? What are you conniving?”
He raised his hands innocently, but grinned wildly. “I’m batting around the idea of giving Lem a surprise party since his birthday is in a few months,” Mitch said once they were back on the road.
“Great idea,” she forced. While she was grateful Mitch was mindful of Lem, she should have thought of it first.
“You know he’s restoring the old truck he has, right?” Mitch asked once they pulled into Lem’s driveway.
“Surprisingly, yes.” Why had he asked, anyway?
“Lauren, sorry. I didn’t mean it as an insult.”
“I know. You’re good for me, Mitch. And as envious as I am of the closeness you share with Grandpa, I’m thankful you’re in his life. I’d never want you not to be.” She gritted her teeth.
Mitch paused in the driveway. “But?”
She shook her head, unable to finish yet. She hugged her ribs, heaving emotion for everything she’d forfeited in the past five years. Every lost minute with Grandpa. And for what? “I’m scared of losing him and scarred with regret that I let time go by without seeing him more,” she managed to say until her voice fractured.
She wasn’t prepared for how fast Mitch moved or how strong and safe and warm his arms felt as they curled around her and pulled her firmly in. “You haven’t failed him, Lauren.”
She swallowed against his chest. “I hope you’re right.”
“You get up early just to spend the sunrise with him every morning, then fish for hours before breakfast. You have talk time every evening. I know because he tells me everything. He wanted you in nursing school. It brought him joy.”
“That makes me feel worse for quitting, then.”
“It’s not too late, Lauren. Do you miss it?”
She nodded. “A lot. I love nursing.”
“Then stay.”
“That’s what Grandpa says.”
But the vulnerability in Mitch’s eyes extended past asking her to stay for Lem’s sake.
Lauren broke off the embrace because the last thing she needed to do was grow dependant on Mitch…and because it felt far too wonderful to take refuge in him.
In fact, his arms felt more like home that moment than Texas.
Chapter Thirteen
“Perfect,” Mitch said to Lauren on the Saturday morning of the chili cookout. He enjoyed the graceful way her hands moved as she sprinkled garlic into his stockpot.
“Let’s see.” She passed him a ladle the way she did instruments in surgery. Did she realize how naturally they worked together? “I find this interesting.”
“What?” He stirred the spices in with the peppers stewing in the chunky sauce.
“All this.” She gestured to Mitch’s pot, then across the yard to Lem’s. Her smile wattage could light up the yard.
Mitch turned the heat down and eyed Lem, manning a separate simmering pot. “That we have chili cook-offs?”
“Not that, per se. Just the fact that you’re making it your life’s mission to recreate his recipe when he won’t give it up.”
“True. Lem’s like the ultimate vault when it comes to that recipe.” Mitch smirked playfully.
She aimed a spatula at him the way Lem often did. “Don’t you dare tell me he gave his coveted secret recipe to you, buster.”
Mitch laughed. “Hardly. I’ve tried for years to replicate it, to no avail. No one makes chili better than Lem.”
“You could always try to search his house and steal it.”
That made Mitch laugh. “I hope you’re kidding.” The fiercely determined look on her face made him think she wasn’t.
She tasted a spoonful of Mitch’s chili. “You’re getting close. It nearly tastes like his. Although I need another bite to be sure.” She poured a ladleful into a tin cup then blew on it.
Mitch leaned. “Your sampling will leave none for guests.”
She shrugged and grinned past the tin cup he’d sipped many slop soups from while stationed overseas as a combat surgeon. “Warn me if you plan to fire me as your official taste-tester.”
“Ha! You’d just sneak over there and sample hi
s.” Mitch nodded toward Lem, hovered protectively over his chili pot.
“Probably so.” She giggled, then looked up at Mitch in an admiring way that made his insides feel all warm and bubbly. Like the chili sauce. “Don’t you know any military interrogation techniques we could use on him to uncover the ingredients?”
Mitch laughed. He really liked engaging her in lively conversation, and even the camaraderie of having her at his side. In the operating room and here, in a domestic setting. Domestic.
The word prickled over him. Perhaps they were getting a wee bit too cozy. Or maybe he should just give in to the attraction and court her instead of expending all this energy fleeing from it.
He took a smart step back.
Probably not his most healthy coping mechanism, but that was how things had to be for the time being.
Too risky otherwise. Too much to overcome. For the first time, though, fighting off his growing feelings felt less appealing than contemplating courting her.
He needed a distraction. “Tell me something I might not know about you and Lem.”
“Right. Like that’s possible.” She smirked.
“Seriously. Try me.”
“He started cook-offs in my honor.” A nostalgic look piggybacked Lauren’s words. “Chili was always my favorite meal.”
“Was?” He bumped her shoulder. “Don’t talk like it’s past tense. It’s not too late. You’ll be around from now on.”
She shielded her eyes from the sun and peered up at him in a feeble way that made him hope he was right. “How do you know?”
He captured her gaze and held it firmly. “Because I know.”
Emotions began pulling at all corners of his heart the same time cars began pulling up in the driveway, ending the conversation. And hopefully the good way she was making him feel right now.
Yet for a moment Lauren didn’t take her eyes off him. Just studied him like a researcher staring into a microscope.
Until meeting Lauren, he’d been sure his heart had been irrevocably broken. But now, he got to thinking maybe his heart was whole again.
Thankfully a slew of cars quickly ran over any crazy thoughts of romance. He could never let himself forget that miles and distance were the masterminds behind a busted heart and broken engagement.
