Some Kind of Wonderful

by Barbara Freethy

  "So," he continued. "My fellowship ended last week. I must say it's good to be home."

  She nodded. "The time went quickly."

  "In some ways. You look wonderful, Caitlyn." He offered her a tentative smile. "Not even a limp?"

  "Only when it rains or when I'm tired."

  "That's good to hear."

  Another uncomfortable silence fell between them. Brian shifted his feet. Caitlyn glanced around the room, wondering what to do next. If he'd called first, she could have gotten herself together, but as it was, she was rattled at seeing him again and she didn't know what to say. Finally, she came up with, "Are you planning to stay in San Francisco?"

  He looked surprised by her question. "Yes, of course. This is my home. I've already submitted my resume to several universities. I'm hoping to work with your parents, but that remains to be seen."

  "They'd love that."

  "What about you? How would you feel?"

  "I'd be happy for you. It's what you've wanted, what they've wanted."

  "Caitlyn..." he started, then stopped, then began again. "What's going on?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I don't know where we stand. I don't know why you didn't call or write."

  "You didn't call or write either."

  "I did in the beginning."

  "One letter."

  "One letter that you didn't answer. I knew then you were angry. Why did you tell me to go if you didn't want me to go?"

  "Because you wanted to go," she said simply, the words coming to her so quickly they slid right out of her mouth.

  "That's true. I did want to accept the fellowship. But I didn't understand the choice was the fellowship or you. By the time I came to that realization it was too late to back out. I just hoped that once you were recovered and I was home we could work things out. That's why I'm here now." He sighed, his face filled with confusion. "I seem to continually get into trouble for taking a woman's words at face value. You said to go, but what you were really saying is if you go, it's all over."

  He was right. She had sent him mixed signals. She'd told him to go when deep down inside she'd wanted him to stay, to tell her she was the most important thing in the world to him.

  Or maybe that wasn't even the whole truth. Sending him away had gone hand in hand with sending away so many other troubling emotions.

  "Besides the fact that I left, I think you blamed me for the accident," Brian continued when she didn't reply.

  She shook her head. "That's not true. I didn't blame you."

  "You weren't ready for that ski run. I pushed you into it."

  He had pushed, but she'd gone along, pretending to be someone she wasn't, someone he would love more, someone as in tune with nature as he was. She'd seen the need in his eyes and, as always, had wanted to fill it. But she'd fallen hopelessly short. In fact, she'd fallen halfway down a mountain. They'd spent Christmas in the hospital, instead of by a hot fire in a beautiful lodge the way they'd planned. And after the immediate crisis of saving her life had passed, she'd been transferred to another hospital in San Francisco, sent home to spend the weeks and months recuperating from her injuries.

  "Well, I blame myself," Brian said heavily. "And my life hasn't been the same without you in it. I would very much like another chance with you, Caitlyn. What do you say?"

  What did she say? A million words came to mind, but they were so cluttered and disorganized she couldn't get a single one past her lips.

  "Are you with someone else? Is that why you're hesitating?"

  She wanted to say yes, she was with someone else; then he'd go away again and take the rest of the stuff she didn't want to deal with away with him. But she couldn't lie. "I'm not seeing anyone else."

  His blue eyes lightened. "Will you let me take you to dinner?"

  She hesitated. "I don't know. I have so much work to do."

  "You have to eat."

  Right now she felt more like throwing up. The turmoil of seeing him again, of being taken back to a place she'd never wanted to revisit, had completely unsettled her.

  Brian had no real idea of what she'd gone through that year. She'd made her noble gesture, and he'd grabbed it, disappearing through the hospital doors before she had a second to have second thoughts. Now he was back, asking her to dinner as if nothing had happened between them, and yet everything had happened.

  "I don't think we can go back to the way we were," she said slowly.

  "We could try."

  "Why? Because I'm healthy now?" she asked.

  "And because now I can be here for you all the time. I want a chance to make things right again."

  "I doubt that's possible." She paused, gathering her courage. "It wasn't just your leaving that split us apart. I heard you, Brian. I heard you that night when I was waking up from surgery."

  "Heard what?"

  "You said I was -- I was damaged beyond belief," she whispered, barely able to get the sentence out.

  His mouth dropped open. "My God, Caitlyn. I never meant for you to hear that. I was shaken. I didn't know what I was saying. I was horrified by how badly hurt you were."

  "You were right. I was damaged, Brian." She took a breath and continued. "I'm still damaged. Maybe you can't see the scars, but that doesn't mean they're not there."

  "Let me make it up to you. Let me prove to you that I'm not as selfish or as heartless as I must have appeared to be when I left you behind."

  She saw the sincerity in his eyes and weakened. "I don't know."

  "Think about it. Think about all of it. Remember what we were to each other. How we felt."

  "Don't you understand, Brian? The last thing I want to do is remember the days I have tried so hard to forget. I spent a lot of time in a lot of pain." She walked over to the door and held it open. "I think you should go."

  Brian hesitated, then walked slowly toward her. "I'll go for now, but I'm not giving up on you, or on us." He ran a finger down the side of her cheek in a familiar caress. "I want the future we planned, you and me together, a family. It's what you wanted, too, and I can't believe that you could change that much." A gleam of triumph lit up his eyes as she couldn't deny his words. "I'll see you at brunch tomorrow. Your parents invited me over."

  Her heart sank. "Brian, this is too fast. You're gone... now you're back. I can't change channels that quickly. I'm different now. So are you. We have lives that haven't included each other for a while."

  "Then we'll get to know each other again. I'm not giving up, Caitlyn. You told me to go before, and I believed you, so I went. But I learned my lesson. This time, no matter what you say, I'm staying, because I think that's really what you want."

  And as she shut the door behind him, Caitlyn had the terrible feeling she'd created a monster. She needed to learn how to say what she meant and mean what she said. But she was feeling as confused and conflicted now as she'd felt eighteen months ago.

  At one point in her life she'd been certain she could stand by Brian for all time. She'd been prepared to take vows to that effect. What kind of a woman was she now to not even consider giving their relationship another chance when she'd once invested so much of herself in it? Didn't she owe him something? Didn't he owe her? Or would they both be better off by calling it even and calling it over? If only the answers would come as easily as the questions.

  * * *

  Matt heard Caitlyn's door close and had to resist the impulse to look through the peephole. Caitlyn and her Abe Lincoln boyfriend were none of his business. He certainly wasn't surprised that she'd hooked up with some bearded intellectual type. He probably read her poetry and took her to museums.

  Although... Caitlyn hadn't looked that happy to see him, and the fact that the guy had jumped to a big conclusion about Caitlyn and himself made Matt suspect they'd had a breakup of some sort.

  Damn! Why was he thinking about Caitlyn again? He needed to concentrate on Sarah, on trying to figure out where she might have gone and how he would find her. It was unbelieva
ble how many searches he'd conducted over the years, always coming up empty. Even with all his resources, he'd struck out. But Sarah had somehow found him and decided to leave her baby with him. It still blew his mind. How did Sarah know she could trust him? He could have been anybody now. So could she. That's what worried him the most, that Sarah could have inherited their mother's genes. He wanted to believe she was coming back. But he'd been wrong before.

  Restless again, Matt stood up. It was too quiet. He almost wished Emily was still awake, but she'd finally dropped off to sleep after he'd made her comfortable in the middle of his king-size bed, placing cushions all around her to keep her from rolling about. He'd put her on her side and hoped that was right, but that hadn't stopped him from checking on her every few minutes. He didn't know how he would sleep tonight. Who would watch her when he was asleep? The responsibility of parenting suddenly overwhelmed him.

  What would he do with Emily if Sarah didn't come back? Could he really be a father?

  He shook his head, knowing he couldn't think about that right now. One step at a time. Matt just wished the damn phone would ring, or a knock would come at his door and Sarah would magically appear. He glared at the phone, which remained ominously silent.

  But in the quiet came the sound of another door closing -- Caitlyn's. Matt didn't stop to think before he moved, so desperate was he for a lifeline. He was in the hall before she'd gotten halfway to the elevator.

  "Caitlyn," he called out.

  She stopped and turned slowly, as if she wished she'd been able to escape. "What?"

  "Where are you going?"

  "Is it any of your business?"

  'Tell me anyway."

  She sighed and pointed to her running shoes. It was then he realized she'd changed into a mint-green jogging suit that was the color of his favorite ice cream. "I need to get out."

  "It's after eight -- it's dark out there."

  "And your point would be..."

  "That you shouldn't be running alone after dark."

  "I'll be fine. I need some air. And I can't stand all the tension in my body."

  He had a hunch he knew who was the cause of that tension. "I have an idea."

  "No, I do not want to hold Emily."

  "That wasn't what I was going to say."

  She sent him a suspicious look.

  "Two words. Punching bag."

  She stared at him for a long moment. "You're talking about that thing you have hanging in the corner of your living room?"

  "Exactly. It's great at relieving tension. Frankly, you look like you could throw a few good punches right now."

  "I don't know how to box."

  "I thought you'd taken self-defense."

  "My mother signed me up," Caitlyn admitted. "She was determined I should know how to defend myself before I was allowed to go on a date. I spent most of the time in the bathroom. The guy in the pads scared me."

  He tried to fight back a smile, but her honest admission only made her that much more likeable. "Then you should definitely learn how to throw a punch, especially if you want to go running at night. It's easy. I'll show you."

  "This is just a trick to get me to help you with the baby again."

  "You are so suspicious. Emily is fast asleep."

  Caitlyn walked toward him, until she was standing a foot away. She studied his face for a long minute. "You hate being alone with her, don't you?"

  "No."

  "That little baby has got you freaked."

  "I'm perfectly calm. Feel my pulse." He held out his hand to her.

  Caitlyn put two fingers on his wrist, and the heat of her touch sent his pulse on a sprint. When he looked into her eyes, he saw the same sudden leap and felt a surge of pure male satisfaction, quickly followed by dismay. He could not be attracted to his neighbor. He could not have a thing with Caitlyn. No way in hell. The idea was unthinkable.

  He never brought his relationships home, and he certainly didn't start relationships at home.

  Jesus! He was already thinking of this as home. Maybe he needed to throw some punches himself.

  Caitlyn dropped his wrist. "I was never very good at finding a pulse," she said, pretending that whatever had jumped between them hadn't happened. "I really should run."

  He knew it would be smarter to let her go, but these days being smart didn't seem to be an option. "Just give the bag a chance. It can be a great workout. Trust me."

  She hesitated. "All right. I guess I could try it."

  He ushered her into his apartment. "Emily is in the bedroom. Do you want to check on her?"

  "We should leave well enough alone."

  "Okay." He walked over to the hall closet and pulled out two boxing gloves. "These should work."

  Caitlyn looked doubtfully at the enormous gloves. "I don't think those will fit."

  "We're not going for style, just protection. Put 'em on."

  Caitlyn took off her jacket to reveal a body-hugging white T-shirt that had Matt clearing his throat. He'd always liked curves on a woman, and Caitlyn had some dangerous curves, the kind that made a man want to hold on for dear life.

  "I feel ridiculous," she said as she slipped on the bulky gloves.

  "No one is watching."

  "You are," she said pointedly.

  Matt forced himself to concentrate as he walked over to the bag and braced it with his hands. "I'll hold it steady. You take a swing."

  She paused once more, offering him an apologetic glance. "I don't think I can do this. I've never hit anyone in my life."

  "No siblings to fight with?"

  "I'm an only child."

  "No bully in the third grade?"

  "I went to Catholic school. The nuns didn't put up with bullies."

  "What about in the neighborhood?"

  She shook her head. "My mother screened my play dates."

  Good grief! Only child, Catholic school, play dates -- if he'd had any doubts that they came from different sides of the tracks, they were gone.

  "You must know someone you've wanted to hit. Think about it." He watched the muscles in her face draw tight. "Maybe starting with the guy who just left," he ventured. "Bradley, right?"

  "Brian. And I don't want to talk about him."

  "Did I ask?"

  "You were about to."

  'Take a swing, Caitlyn."

  Caitlyn pulled her arm back, then took a soft feminine punch that didn't even move the bag. Matt shook his head in disgust, telling himself he could not possibly be turned on by her completely sissy punch. But there was something incredibly feminine about her. "You hit like a girl."

  "I am a girl."

  Didn't he know it! "Try again. See if you can actually make the bag move."

  "What if I miss the bag and hit your hand?"

  "With the force you just used, I think I'll live."

  "You're making fun of me, aren't you?"

  "Does that make you mad?"

  "As a matter of fact..." She took a better punch this time and smiled with satisfaction. "That felt good."

  "Do it again."

  "Once was probably enough."

  This woman had a lot to learn. As far he was concerned, once was never enough. "You're just getting started. Think about something that makes you hot under the collar."

  "I'm usually even tempered."

  "Think about me leaving you with the baby when you were supposed to be finishing that wedding dress."

  "Oh, right." She took a much harder punch, pushing the bag back against his chest.

  "You're a quick study. Now, what about that guy who just left, the one who thought Emily was yours. How did that make you feel?"

  Caitlyn's expression turned to stone. "I told you to mind your own business."

  "You didn't look happy to see him."

  "I wasn't."

  "So who was he? A boyfriend?"

  She hit the bag again, even harder this time. "He was my fiancé, if you must know."

  Another punch glanced off the bag, an
d her expression turned fierce as she lost herself in a memory.

  "He broke up with you?" Matt couldn't quite imagine a guy walking out on Caitlyn.

  "Not exactly," she said, her punches accenting each word. "He had a job opportunity that took him back east for a year, and I told him to take it. But I was a little surprised by how fast he got out of there." She danced around the bag, taking punch after punch until a line of sweat broke out across her brow.

  "Out of where?"

  "The hospital," she said breathlessly.

  "What is he -- a doctor?"

  She took another wild punch. "Astrophysicist, Ph.D. He has a genius IQ and ambition to match. The fellowship at the McClellan Institute allowed him to study with one of the top men in his field. It was a once-in-a-lifetime proposition. And he couldn't let anything slow him down, especially someone who... who..." She stopped, her chest heaving as she caught her breath.

  "Who what?" he prodded.

  "Who might not ever be able to walk again," she blurted out.

  "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked in amazement.

  "I had an accident -- two broken legs, a crushed pelvis, and a couple of broken ribs. Oh, and did I mention a severe concussion and twenty-seven stitches in my scalp? They had to put me back together with pins and screws. I wasn't a pretty picture."

  "And the asshole left you like that?"

  "I sent him away. I was damaged, horribly damaged." Her voice caught in her throat. "If you could have seen me then, you would have thought the same thing." She shuddered at the memories washing over her.

  "I still can't believe your fiancé would leave you in the hospital and take a job on the other side of the country."

  "I told you, it was a big deal. And what could Brian do for me anyway? He could barely stand to look at me. He probably wondered how he could ever love me again." Her eyes flooded with a sudden onslaught of tears. Matt dropped the punching bag and took her in his arms. He pressed her trembling body against his chest, smoothing her hair under his chin as sobs rocked through her.