Return of the Last McKenna (Harlequin Romance)

by Jump, Shirley

  Something Brody danced around in his mind but knew would lead to trouble. He was here to fulfill a promise, not fall for Andrew’s sister.

  Kate took a deep drink of her ice water then stretched her shoulders. She’d already devoured half her dinner, which told Brody he’d made the right decision in inviting her out. Like him, he suspected she spent more time worrying about others than about herself.

  For the tenth time he wondered what had spurred him to invite her to dinner, when he’d gone over to the shop tonight to just check in on her, ask her how business was going, and somehow direct the conversation to expansions. Drop a few words in her ear about what a good idea that would be then be on his way, mission accomplished. Once again, his intentions and actions had gone in different directions. Maybe because he was having trouble seeing how to make those intentions work.

  “I forgot…what kind of medicine do you practice?” she asked, as she forked up a bite of chicken. The restaurant’s casual ambience, created by earth tone décor and cozy booths, had drawn dozens of couples and several families. The murmur of conversation rose and fell like a wave.

  “Family practice,” Brody said. “I see kids with runny noses. Parents with back aches. I’ve administered more flu shots than I can count, and taped up more sprained ankles than the folks at Ace bandage.”

  She laughed. “That must be rewarding.”

  “It is. I’ve gotten to know a lot of people over the years, their families, too, and it’s nice to be a part of helping them live their lives to the fullest. When they take my advice, of course.” He grinned.

  “Stubborn patients who keep on eating fast food and surfing the sofa?”

  He nodded. “All things in moderation, I tell them. Honestly, most of my job is just about…listening.”

  “How so?”

  “Patients, by and large, know the right things to do. Sometimes, they just want someone to hear them say they’re worried about the chances of having a heart attack, or scared about a cancer diagnosis. They want someone to—”

  “Care.”

  “Exactly. And my job is to do that then try to fix whatever ails them.” Which he’d done here, many times, but when it had counted—

  He hadn’t fixed Andrew, not at all. He’d done his best, and he’d failed.

  “Where did you start out? I mean, residency.” Kate’s question drew Brody back to the present.

  “Mass General’s ER. That’s a crazy job, especially in Boston. You never know what’s going to come through the door. It was exciting and vibrant and…insane. At the end of the day, I could have slept for a week.” He chuckled. “The total opposite of a family practice in a lot of ways. Not to say I don’t have my share of emergencies, but it’s less hectic. I have more time with my patients in family practice, which is nice.”

  “I have a cousin in Detroit who works in the ER. I don’t think he’s been off for a single holiday.”

  “That’s life in the ER, that’s for sure.” Brody got a taste of that ER life every time he went on a medical mission trips and again in Afghanistan. “That’s one of the perks Doc Watkins told me about when I took over the practice. There are days when all those runny noses can get a bit predictable, but by and large, I really enjoy my work.”

  “Same with cupcakes. Decorated one, decorated a thousand.” She laughed. “Though I do like to experiment with different flavors and toppings. And the chocolates—those leave lots of room for creativity.”

  “Do you ever want to step out of the box, and do something totally different?”

  “I have plans to.” She fiddled with her fork. “My brother and I always wanted to expand Nora’s Sweet Shop, to take it national, maybe even start franchising. Andrew was the one with the big, risky ideas. I’m a little more cautious, but when he talked, I signed on for the ride. He was so enthusiastic, that he got me excited about the idea, too.”

  “And have you expanded yet?” Brody crossed his hands in front of him, his dinner forgotten. Here was what he had come here to discuss, though he got the feeling it wasn’t a subject Kate really liked visiting.

  She shook her head. “I’ve thought about it. Even found a property in Weymouth that I saw online, but…” Kate sighed, “ever since Andrew died, it’s been hard to get enthusiastic about the idea again. I know he’d want me to push forward but…it’s hard.”

  Guilt weighed heavy on Brody’s shoulders. Maybe if he’d been a better doctor, if he’d found a way to save Andrew, her brother would be here now, and Kate wouldn’t be debating about opening another location. She’d be celebrating with Andrew.

  Promise me.

  Andrew had asked him to watch out for his little sister, to make sure she was moving on, living her life. Taking her to dinner was part of that, Brody supposed, but he knew Andrew had meant more than a platter of chicken Alfredo and some breadsticks.

  “You should expand anyway. Your brother would want you to,” Brody said, wondering if she knew how true that was. “And if it’s a matter of financing, I can help if you want.”

  She laughed. “You? What do you know about franchising or opening new locations?”

  “Uh…nothing. But I think it sounds like a great idea and if you need financial backing—” Was that what he was going to do? Throw money at the problem and send it away? “—then I am more than happy to provide that.”

  “You hardly know me. Why would you give me money, just like that? And how can you afford it?”

  “I’m a McKenna, and part of being a McKenna means having money. I inherited quite a lot when my parents died, and my grandparents were good investors. Even after paying for medical school and my own practice, I’ve been left with more than I know what to do with.” He leaned forward, wishing he had the magic words he needed. “I’ve tasted your cupcakes and chocolates. That’s a business worth backing.”

  “Well, I appreciate the offer, but…”

  “But what?”

  “I’m not ready for expanding or any kind of a big change yet.” She toyed with the fork some more. “Maybe down the road.” She raised her gaze to his. Green eyes wide, looking to him for answers, support. “I think part of it is fear of the unknown, you know? Andrew was good at that, just leaping and looking afterwards. I’m one of those people who has to peek behind the curtains a few times before I do anything.” She twirled some noodles onto her fork. “I’m the one in the back of the scenes, not out there leading the charge.”

  He watched her take a bite, swallow, then reach for her water. Every time he saw her, he saw the memory of her brother. They had similar coloring—dark brown hair, deep green eyes, high cheekbones. Andrew had been taller than Kate, tanned from his time in the desert. But Brody could still see so much of the brave young man in his younger sister.

  A part of Brody wanted to leave, to head away from those reminders. To bury those days in Afghanistan and his regrets deep, so deep he would never remember them, never have them pop up and send him off-kilter again.

  Except that would be the coward’s way out, and Brody refused to take that path.

  “I used to be that way, too,” he said. “Afraid of the unknown. Then I went on my first medical mission trip, and it cured the scare in me.”

  “How?”

  “You get dropped into a new place, with new people and new equipment, and you have to sink or swim. If you sink, then other people get hurt. So I had no choice but to buck up and get over my worries that I wouldn’t be a good enough doctor.”

 
But had he been a good enough doctor? Sure he’d helped people in Alabama, Alaska, Costa Rica, even here in Newton, MA, but when it came down to a moment that mattered, a moment when death waited outside the door, he hadn’t been good enough after all. He had tried his best and he had failed.

  Medical school had taught him over and over again that sometimes, people just die. Maybe that was true, or maybe it was just that the wrong doctor had been in charge that day. He had rethought every action of that day a hundred times, questioned every decision, and retraced his steps. But in the end, it didn’t matter because no matter how much he did the day over in his head, it wouldn’t bring Andrew back.

  “I think just taking care of people like you do, and giving back on those trips you take, is brave enough,” she said.

  “I don’t know about that. It’s my job and I just try to do the best I can.” Would he ever be brave enough to take on another mission? Or spend the rest of his life afraid of regretting his mistakes?

  “My whole family has always been the kind that believes in giving to others,” Kate said. “From bringing food to the shelters to donating to good causes, to giving people who need a second chance a job. That’s easy, if you ask me. But doing what you do, going to a strange city or country and caring for people…that takes guts.”

  “There are others who do far gutsier jobs than I,” he said. “They’re the ones to admire, not me.”

  “I don’t know. You’ve worked the ER at Mass General.” She laughed. “That takes some courage, too.”

  He had no desire to sit here and discuss courage and himself in the same sentence. He’d come here to keep a promise, and knew he couldn’t leave until he did. “Courage is also about going after your dreams, which is what I think you should do. Open that new location.” He placed his hand on the table, so close he could have touched her with a breath of movement. “My offer to back you stands, so just know whenever you need me, I’ll be there.”

  “You barely know me,” she said again.

  “What I know looks like a very good investment.”

  Her cheeks filled with pink, and she glanced away. “Well, thank you. I’ll let you know if I move forward.”

  Damn. She didn’t sound any more enthused about the idea now than she had before.

  The other diners chatted and ate, filling the small restaurant with the music of clanking forks and clinking glasses. Waiters bustled to and fro, silent black clad shadows.

  “I forgot to get more of those chocolates my grandmother wanted when I was at the shop the other day. She wanted me to also tell you that she liked those chocolate leaves you had in the basket,” he said, keeping the topic neutral. Away from the hard stuff. “She said they were so realistic, she almost didn’t want to eat them.”

  The pink in her cheeks deepened to red. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed, Kate. It’s clear you enjoy your work by how good the finished product turns out.”

  “I’m just not used to being the one in the spotlight. For years, I was the one in the back, baking. My grandmother was the face of Nora’s for a long time, then Andrew and now…”

  “You.”

  She smiled. “Me.”

  “You make a good face for the company. Sweet, like the baked treats.” The words were out before he could stop them. Damn.

  “Keep saying things like that, Dr. McKenna, and I’ll never stop blushing.” She grinned, then grabbed another breadstick from the basket.

  “I wouldn’t complain.” What the hell was he doing? Flirting with her? He cleared his throat and got back to the reason for being here—a reason that eluded him more and more every minute. “It sounds like you enjoy your job a great deal.”

  “I do. Except when there’s a huge stack of orders and I’m short on help. And…” She glanced at her watch. “Oh, darn, I almost forgot I have a delivery to make tonight.” She pushed her plate to the side and got to her feet. “Thanks for dinner, but I have to go.”

  He rose and tossed some money onto the bill. “Let me walk you back.”

  She smiled. “It’s only a couple blocks to the shop. I’m fine by myself.”

  “A gentleman never lets a lady walk home alone. My grandfather drilled that into me.”

  “A gentleman, huh?” The smile widened and her gaze assessed him. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to disappoint your grandfather.”

  They headed out the door, back into the rain. Brody unfurled the umbrella over them, and matched his pace to Kate’s fast walk. He noted the shadows under her eyes. From working hard, maybe too hard. She was doing exactly what Andrew had predicted—spending her days baking and wearing herself into the ground. Not taking care of herself. Hence the microwave dinners and shadows under her eyes. “Do you make many deliveries yourself?”

  She shook her head. “My grandparents make the daytime deliveries—they enjoy getting out and seeing folks in the neighborhood, but they don’t like to drive at night, so I handle those. I don’t mind, but when I’ve been working all day…well, it can make for some long days.”

  “You need not one assistant, but a whole army of them.”

  She laughed. “I agree. And as soon as Joanne gets back and I have some time to run an ad and do some interviews, I’ll be hiring, so I don’t end up in this boat again.”

  They had reached the shop. Brody waited while she unlocked the door and let them inside. He set the wet umbrella by the door. Kate turned toward him. “Thanks for walking me back.”

  “No problem.”

  “And, I’m really sorry about having to send you to another bakery for the cupcake order. If there was a way to fit that in my schedule, believe me I would. I just had too many existing orders and not enough time.” She grinned and put her hands up. “There’s only one me.”

  “You could get a temp,” he said. “I’ve hired them when my nurse is on vacation. And during busy seasons.”

  She waved that suggestion off. “Trying to find someone trained in cooking and willing to work just those few days…it’s almost more work to do that than it is to just handle it myself. And right now, my time is so limited, I can’t imagine adding to my To Do list.”

  She reminded Brody of himself when he had been an intern in medical school, burning the candle at both ends, and sometimes from the middle, too. “How are you going to get all the orders done? And make deliveries and do paperwork and all the stuff that goes with owning your own business?”

  “Working hard. Working long hours. I do most of the baking after the shop closes, which means for very long nights sometimes.” She shrugged. “I’ve done it before. I can do it again.”

  He saw the tension in her face, the shadows under her eyes, the weight of so much responsibility on her shoulders. Andrew had told him, in that long, long conversation that had lingered long into the night while Brody prayed and medicine failed, that his sister had poured her whole life into the shop, giving up dates, parties with friends, everything, to keep it running when the economy was down, and get it strong enough to take on the next challenge of expansion. Baking made her happy, especially during the tumultuous years of their childhood and after their parents’ divorce, Andrew had said, and seeing his older sister happy had become Andrew’s top mission. The business had meant as much to Andrew as it did to Kate. Andrew would never let it falter, even for a few days.

  Nor would he want Brody to just keep throwing words at the problem. He had tasked Brody with making sure Kate moved forward, found that happiness again. That mean
t doing what Brody did best—digging in with both hands.

  “What if I helped you?” Brody said.

  “You?” She laughed as she crossed the room and flipped on a light. “Didn’t you tell me you’re all thumbs in the kitchen?”

  “Well, yeah, but I can measure out doses.” The urge to help her, to do something other than buy a damned basket of chocolates, washed over him in a wave. She wouldn’t let him back her next location, and he didn’t know enough to just go out there and buy one for her, but he could take up some of the slack for her. He followed her into the back room. “I’m sure I can measure flour and sugar and…whatever. And if I can take the temperature of a patient, I can add stuff to an oven. I may not have the best handwriting in the world—”

  At that, she laughed.

  “But I can handle putting some flowers on some cupcakes.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure you’re busy with your practice, and this would be a heck of a job to just jump into. I’ll be fine.” She had pulled a paper off the wall and read it over. The order that needed to be delivered, he surmised. At night, maybe to a less than desirable neighborhood, alone.

  A thick stack of orders were tacked to the wall, waiting to be filled after she did this one. Piles of bakery supplies lined the far counter. Sacks of flour and sugar, tubs of something labeled fondant. A huge work load for anyone. Not to mention someone still reeling from a big personal loss.

  Once again the urge to walk away, to distance himself from this reminder of his greatest mistake, roared inside him. If he did this, he’d be around Kate for hours at a time. At some point, the subject of her brother would come up. How long did he think he could go before the truth about why he was here came out?