One Night That Changed Everything

by Tina Beckett

  “I’ll put these away and then see about lunch.”

  “Mmm. I’ll help you in a few minutes. Once I thaw a bit more.” She curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace, much as Bethany’s cat would have done years ago.

  Despite Hannah’s words, she looked anything but frozen. He was sure if he touched her, she’d be warm and soft. Which was why he was heading straight to the bedrooms before he dropped onto the rug behind her and tucked her close.

  Going first to the room he’d shared with Bethany when they’d been kids, he set his suitcase on the floor, staring at the place where the two single beds had been replaced with a queen-size one. He could still visualize the bedding and how she’d talked their parents into rigging a curtain to go between the beds so she could pretend to have her own room. The ceiling rod was gone, the area painted to look brand-new. In fact, the whole room had been redecorated, for which he was grateful. The outside wall was made of thick rustic logs, but the three inside walls had changed from pale yellow to nondescript beige. All traces of Bethany had been scrubbed clean. It was as if she’d never been here at all.

  Only she had been. And, in a way, her presence was still here. It was one of the reasons he hadn’t been to the place in years. But instead of the crippling sadness her memory had once dredged up, he found the pain had eased, even if it wasn’t completely gone. He could now smile at the mischievous antics she’d once engaged in. Remember how happy this place had made her.

  Something inside him relaxed. It was going to be okay.

  Maybe that’s why he’d needed to come. To get a sense of what his sister would have wanted him to do.

  Hannah didn’t want to marry him. Even if she hadn’t said the words, her face had been a picture of shock and dismay when he’d mentioned it. Enough that he wouldn’t pursue that avenue again. But it didn’t have to be marriage, necessarily. Maybe she could grow to care for him—could trust him not only to raise her children in the event of her death but enough to let him be a part of her life, as well.

  Was that what he wanted?

  Yes. But he wasn’t sure he could do it. Or whether or not he should. This weekend was meant to be a test run. And a lot rode on how he felt by the end of it.

  “Is this where I’ll stay?” Hannah’s voice yanked him from his thoughts. He knew she meant “stay” as in temporarily, but the word made something shift inside him. The urge to ask her to share the room with him came and went without incident. He shifted gears.

  “Weren’t you going to warm up for a while?”

  “Already done.” She put her hand on his. “See? Warm as toast.”

  Yes, it was. And he was growing a bit heated himself. He cleared his throat. “I’m going to put you in the room across the hall. There’s only one bathroom, so we’ll have to share. My parents always meant to add a second one, but they never got around to it.” And once Bethany had died, there’d been no need, as they’d no longer come here as a family.

  “Okay.”

  That reminded him. He’d have to switch on the hot-water heater and let it run for a couple of hours before they could shower. “Let me show you your room.”

  He made the trek across the narrow hallway, suddenly glad to be moving. Opening the door, he let her walk in ahead of him. The room was chilly, but he could already feel heat gusting from one of the overhead vents.

  A soft exclamation of surprise came from behind her. “You should take this room.”

  He knew why she’d said it. This bedroom was obviously the master suite, since the huge four-poster bed dominated the space—his mother’s one big splurge. A system of mahogany slats cleverly attached to the four carved finials, creating a canopy that could be disassembled depending on the mood.

  His mother had always liked them up, had even bought a lacy fabric covering that was probably still tucked in one of the closets somewhere, but Greg liked the bare wood. “No, I’m fine in the other one. It’s where I used to sleep as a child.”

  “But this bed is bigger. And you’re—”

  “Don’t say it.”

  She grinned. “I wasn’t going to say you’re fat. You’re not. But you are a big guy.”

  Her cheeks colored almost as soon as the words left her mouth. His cue to back out of there, and fast.

  “Do you want to unpack?”

  “I think I’m going to leave my things in the suitcase. We’ll only be here for one night.”

  “Right.” Suddenly it wasn’t enough. He wanted a week. A month.

  A lifetime?

  Stick with the plan, Greg. Take it one day at a time.

  “I’ll bring the rest of the stuff in from the car.”

  “Want some help?” She stood in the doorway as if unsure what to do next.

  “I’ve got it. I thought we might eat lunch here at the cabin and then do dinner at a seafood joint in town.”

  “Sounds good.” She patted her tummy. “I ate breakfast, but I’m already starving. Must be the air up here.”

  He could blame the air for his ravenous appetite, but this was a completely different kind of hunger—one that physical food wouldn’t put a dent in.

  “I’ve brought steak and potatoes. How does that sound?”

  “Like a little piece of heaven. I’m so glad I haven’t had any morning sickness yet. I’m eating all I can, just in case it eventually hits.” She put one hand on the edge of the door. “Oh, are there sheets already on the bed?”

  “No, Mom used to keep them in the dresser drawers in each bedroom—they’re probably still there, in a zippered bag. We can throw a set in the washer, and then I’ll help you make the bed.”

  Her brows went up. “I have made a bed before, you know.”

  He did know. And that was something else he didn’t want to think about. The way she looked as she bent over the exam tables, pulling paper from the roll and tucking it beneath the strap at the bottom. How her perfect behind had called out to him, inviting him to mess up the bed she’d so meticulously made. But then he might have had to buy a new exam table, for the very same reasons he’d gotten a new desk. That might be a little harder to explain to Stella.

  His perceptive receptionist had eyed him with one brow raised nearly to her hairline as they’d carried his old desk away. The thing was still tucked in a storage area, awaiting his decision on what to do with it. He couldn’t bear to throw it out. Maybe he should move it to his house. There wasn’t much furniture in the place.

  And see Hannah’s slim body stretched across it every time he passed by? Yeah, if he thought he was tired now, he’d be doubly exhausted if he did that.

  Since when had he gotten so sentimental?

  Maybe since seeing on a daily basis how fragile the thread of life was. He’d learned to notice little things about his patients that he might have overlooked before, like the soft glances between Claire and her husband. Or hands that gripped tightly as he talked about their particular illness. Or…

  “Greg? Are you okay?”

  “Yep, fine.” He rolled his shoulders to relax some of the tension. “Like I said, linens are in the drawer. Choose whichever set you like and bring them to the kitchen. The washer and dryer are in a closet next to the pantry.”

  “Okay.” Her gaze trailed over his face as if trying to figure out what he’d been thinking about, but she didn’t ask. “Do you want me to get out a set for you, as well?”

  “Sure. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Greg hightailed it out of there before she figured out that she was part of his salva—confusion. Hell, had he almost used the word salvation? He didn’t need anyone to save him. Unless it was from his own recent thoughts and actions.

  He’d done some things that were pretty out of character for him.

  Rescuing the grocery bags from the trunk of his car, he brought them in the house and quickly sorted through them. He glanced at his watch. Almost lunchtime. Good. At least the food preparations would keep him from doing any more thinking.

  Becaus
e right now thinking was the one thing that could take an otherwise cautious and controlled doctor and turn him into a type of Mr. Hyde.

  One who only wanted one thing out of this trip.

  Hannah.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  SHE was crazy cold, but it was so worth it.

  When Greg had said he had a surprise for her, she’d glanced at her watch and blinked. Almost midnight. But now, seated on the whitewashed porch swing overlooking the front yard, she curled up in a ball and hugged her knees. And stared.

  Lights.

  The gorgeous green hues of the aurora borealis hung high in the sky, a soft misting of color that was perfectly visible from her seat. The swing creaked as Greg sat beside her, tossing a throw from the couch over both their shoulders and wrapping it around them. “To keep us warm,” he’d murmured, when she’d looked at him.

  She was. His body heat, trapped within the folds of the woolen fabric, quickly made the nippy temperature more bearable, even for her feet, which normally turned into heavy blocks of ice whenever she sat outside for extended periods.

  “How did you know it would happen tonight?” she asked. You couldn’t always predict when the lights would appear, and sometimes they only lasted for minutes before fading away again.

  “I didn’t. I glanced outside and there it was.” He shifted on the seat, the move bringing him close enough that his shoulder slipped behind hers. She responded by leaning against him, automatically seeking the extra heat he was giving off. “This used to be Bethany’s favorite part of coming to the cabin.”

  “Tell me about her.” It wasn’t often he volunteered information about his sister, and she was curious.

  He shrugged. “She was feisty. Made me stand up to my dad when he wanted me to take over his fishing business.”

  “And you wanted to be a doctor.”

  “Yes.” He gave a soft chuckle. “And Bethy nagged me until I told him the truth, that I didn’t want to be a commercial fisherman. She knew I’d be miserable if I tried to force myself to be something I wasn’t.”

  “That must have been tough.” She couldn’t imagine her parents pressuring her into taking over their cattle ranch. There’d never even been a hint that she should give up her own dreams and take on theirs.

  “It was. Things have been shaky between my dad and I ever since.” His arm went around Hannah’s shoulders, drawing her closer. “But it was the right thing to do.”

  “I’m glad she insisted.”

  He paused, before saying, “Me, too.”

  She sighed, turning her attention back to the sky. “I think this is the clearest I’ve ever seen the lights. I’ve heard northern Idaho has displays from time to time, but I’m from the southern part of the state so I’d never experienced them before moving to the Aleutians. And then, after my diagnosis, there weren’t a lot of opportunities.”

  The time she’d spent on the island of Dutch Harbor had been a magical, eye-opening period. The inhabitants knew how to make the most of what they had. She still missed the island, and her friends there.

  Hmm…But not that much, she thought as she rested her head on Greg’s shoulder. This was definitely something she could get used to. Sitting on a porch with him, watching the mysterious glow dance across the night sky, the silence broken only by the occasional shuffle of wildlife in the distance or the soft hoot of an owl in a nearby tree.

  “I don’t think I could ever get tired of seeing this.”

  Greg’s warm breath slid across her cheek. “You don’t get tired of it. But you do take it for granted. Forget it exists.”

  “Kind of like good health.”

  “Yes, unfortunately. In our practice we’re suddenly more aware of things like the northern lights, aren’t we?”

  “Having cancer changes you. Sometimes for the better. Like appreciating the beauty of the lights, for example. You learn to treasure every second.”

  “Is that why you decided to have children?”

  Hannah had sensed him wanting to talk about this earlier, but he’d never quite made it around to the subject. Maybe it was for the best. Because out here she felt a kind freedom she’d been longing for. “Yes. Putting it off until I met the right person just didn’t seem like the best decision for me anymore.”

  “So you decided to go it alone.”

  “I was alone during my illness and treatment so this doesn’t seem like such a huge step.”

  Warm lips touched her temple. “I’m sorry you felt alone. Your parents?”

  “My mom came up for a couple of weeks, but when she realized she couldn’t really help I talked her into going home. My dad gets nervous when he can’t do something to make things better.” She paused. “He’s in the early stages of Parkinson’s. It’s another reason I didn’t want to wait. I wanted my dad to be able to hold his grandchild while he’s still well enough to.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  She shrugged. “It’s just something that’s never come up between us.”

  “Anything else?”

  “What do you mean?” She glanced up to see his eyes fixed on the lights.

  “What about the twins? What are your plans once they’re born?”

  Leaning back, she took a moment to really look at his face. The slow muscle working in his jaw. “I don’t have a lot of plans. I’m just taking life a second at a time. Trying to savor every step along the way. I’m afraid if I start really laying things out, I’ll live for the future, instead of treasuring today.” She struggled to find the words, but couldn’t. “I don’t know how to explain it, exactly.”

  “I think I understand. Maybe I should learn to be a little more spontaneous. My days do kind of run together.”

  Something funny settled in her tummy. “And right now? Right here? Is this running together?”

  “No. I’m painfully aware of each tiny second ticking down.”

  “You are? Why?” She held her breath.

  “Because…I don’t want it to end.” The words were so soft she had to strain to hear them.

  When she realized exactly what he’d said, the air whooshed from her lungs in a big gulp, the puff of mist she caused obscuring her vision for a moment. She realized she didn’t want it to end either.

  In love.

  The very thing she’d been avoiding—trying not to think about—seemed to be written in the sky in bold green ink. Oh, Lord. Could he have feelings for her, too? Was that what he meant by not wanting it to end?

  Or was he simply talking about the lights in the sky?

  She was afraid to ask—afraid she’d be very wrong.

  He’d mentioned marriage at one time, and she’d dismissed it out of hand, not wanting a workaholic partner helping her raise two children. Not wanting the disappointment when he missed important milestones in their lives. Worse, she didn’t want those same children growing up believing Greg’s way of living was the right way.

  But he was here with her right now, not at work—something she could have sworn was impossible a mere month ago. He’d even admitted that he hadn’t been to this house in ages.

  So why now?

  “About the kids,” he said. “I know we really haven’t gotten a chance to talk about the particulars, and it’s still early, but I’d like to help with them in some way.”

  In some way. “In what way, exactly?”

  “Maybe I could…Well, if they’re boys, I could take them to a hockey game or something. Teach them how to ride bikes.”

  “Maybe girls would like to ride bikes and watch hockey, as well.”

  “I know. I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant…”

  Her heart sloshed around in her chest, a gooey mass of emotion. “I know what you mean, and it’s sweet. Yes, of course you can take them to a game, just don’t—” she searched around for a tactful way to say it “—make promises you can’t or won’t keep.”

  “I know I work too much.” He sighed. “I’ve been thinking about cutting back, I just haven’t been abl
e to find the right moment.”

  She licked her lips, knowing it was selfish of her to even ask. “Maybe this is that moment.”

  He looked at her then reached up to brush her hair off her forehead. “Maybe it is. Maybe I just needed to find a good enough reason.” His throat moved as he swallowed.

  “Hannah, I—”

  Something tinkled from inside the house, threatening to break the spell, but Greg waved it away. “It’s the house phone. Let it ring. If it’s important, my service knows to call my cell.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am. For the first time in my life.” His head came down, and his lips covered hers in a gentle kiss that was worlds away from that first desperate kiss at the clinic. This was a kind of slow exploration of dormant emotions, as if he was trying to figure out exactly what was happening between them.

  She already knew, and it scared her spitless.

  What Hannah needed was to figure out what to do with her newfound knowledge. Did she take a chance on Greg, knowing he could break her heart into a million pieces? Or did she back away and never give him the chance to hurt her or the precious lives she carried inside her?

  But he’d ignored the phone. Had hinted that she might be the reason he was thinking about cutting back on work. And his kiss certainly didn’t feel distracted, as if he was keeping one ear tuned for the ringing to begin again.

  No, he was kissing her as if he wanted more.

  As if he never wanted this moment to end. Those words, the ones he’d used earlier, sealed her decision, and she began kissing him back. Eagerly, allowing her own pent-up emotions to surge to the surface.

  Her hands reached for him, bringing him even closer.

  Greg groaned against her mouth. “I just wanted to talk. I swear. But I can’t think straight when you’re around.”

  She smiled. “Join the club. Sometimes there’s a time to talk and sometimes there’s a time to…do other things.”

  “Is this one of those times?”

  “Oh, I think so. Don’t you?” Her heart swelled with love. Talking could definitely wait. They had all day tomorrow to figure the other stuff out.