“Hey, Gunnar.” A blonde from the cabin to his left called his name. He couldn’t remember hers.
“Hey.” He waved, but didn’t stop. “Nice night, hm?”
“Could be nicer.” She winked. “Where ya heading?”
He shook his head internally. The transparency of the desperate single woman on a mission was something he wouldn’t miss about this job—someday, when he’d earned enough to build his own house and stables.
“Just going for a walk,” he lied. If she didn’t already know where he lived, he sure wasn’t going to tell her.
“Want some company?” She stepped down off her porch, and Gunnar sighed. Damn. He couldn’t be rude, but all he wanted right now was to get clean and get fed. And he didn’t want to do either of those things with this woman.
“Another time, maybe.” He smiled, trying for the charm thing. “I’ve got a date.”
“Oh.” She pouted, stepping closer. “Well, if it doesn’t work out—”
“G’night.” He backed up, pointing his thumb at the main lodge. “I think it’s movie night in the lodge. You should join them.”
She took a deep breath, then lifted her jaw and set her chin. “Fine. Sorry to bother you.” She spun and went back up the steps, letting her cabin door thwack closed behind her.
He shook his head as he continued down the path. Yeah, he was single, and apparently he’d done all right in the looks department, but Christ. He wasn’t interested in what they were offering. He just wasn’t.
He heard Lexi’s voice in his head as he unlocked his cabin door, and he couldn’t help but smile. She’d been just as undone by their kiss the other night as he had been. He knew it. He’d had his share of clandestine make-out sessions and hot nights over the years, starting at fourteen with Britney What-was-her-name, and Lexi was nothing like any of them.
He’d never—not even when he thought he’d felt it—never felt what he’d felt with Lexi.
He’d bet a million bucks that she hadn’t, either.
So now they just needed to figure out what to do about it. There was no way he was going to let her go back to Maine without at least exploring the possibility of them exploring the possibility, dammit. There was something there—something hot, explosive, so damn good—and there was no way they could ignore it for the next three weeks. If they did, he knew he’d spend a very long time regretting it.
After wolfing down a sandwich and taking a quick shower, Gunnar headed back toward the main lodge, but when he spotted the blonde back out on her porch, he detoured left to head toward the stables instead. He’d skirt them and come out just down the hill from Lexi’s cabin. It was just getting truly dark, and he smiled as he pictured how she’d look, sitting in her bedroom window reading or drawing.
She’d told him that her favorite time of day at Whisper Creek was dusk, when she could hear the night creatures and smell the dew settling on the wildflowers. She’d said she loved to sit in the rocker by the window looking down toward the stables, feeling the breeze and watching the last rays of sunlight paint the sky.
She’d said she’d tried to draw it a hundred times since she’d gotten here, but she still hadn’t quite captured the peace of it.
He’d just nodded and smiled, knowing exactly how she felt.
When he came out of the stable closest to her cabin, he stutter-stepped, realizing her bedroom light wasn’t on. That was odd. But maybe she’d joined the guests for tonight’s movie—some rom-com he couldn’t remember the name of.
He stepped up onto her porch just to knock and make sure she wasn’t in there, but as he looked through the screened panes of the door, he got a funny feeling in his gut. Usually the counter had books and papers and cups on it, but it was as clean as a whistle. He shifted his view to the living area, where he could usually see shoes or a sweatshirt or—again—books on one surface or another. But again, spotless.
He felt a stab of fear. It looked like she was…gone.
But she couldn’t be. She was probably at the movie. She’d just cleaned her cabin first.
He headed for the main lodge, his feet matching the pulse suddenly hammering in his head. When he walked in, the great room was darkened, the movie projecting on the far wall. The smell of popcorn hung in the air, and Cole gave a tortured wave from the bar.
Gunnar scanned the room, but didn’t immediately see Lexi. He headed for Cole, who handed him a cold beer as soon as he slid behind the bar.
Gunnar tapped his beer to Cole’s. “Thanks, but if you’ve pulled bar duty on rom-com night, I think you need this more than me.”
“That’s why I’ve got my own going.” Cole rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how they watch these things.”
“Guaranteed happily-ever-afters, that’s how.”
“Jess says it’s about the journey to the happily-ever-after.”
“That’s because she’s a girl.” Gunnar rolled his eyes. “They’re deep like that.”
Cole laughed, which earned him a dirty look from one of the guests. “Sorry,” he whispered, then shook his head at Gunnar. “So the horse didn’t work out, Ma said?”
“Wish the guy had decided that before I headed down there, but yeah. He’s convinced he can handle it himself.”
“So we’ll be hearing from him again in a month or so?”
Gunnar nodded as he peered at the various couches and chairs, trying to find Lexi. He’d have thought it would have been easier to spot her red hair, but it was damn dark in here.
“Who are you looking for?” Cole finally asked.
“Lexi.”
Cole’s eyebrows hiked upward. “Lexi?”
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t want to hear it. I need to talk to her, though. Any idea where she is?”
Cole set his beer down. “Shit, buddy. She left Sunday morning. You didn’t know?”
“For where?” Gunnar asked, the alarm bells in his gut not quite catching up to his words.
“For home, Gunnar.”
—
“Do you want a drink or anything?” Katie touched Lexi’s shoulder in the ICU waiting room, making her jump. “I don’t think we can go in again till next hour. Want to walk down to the cafeteria?”
“No.” Lexi shook her head, guilt clawing at her like a monster from her worst childhood nightmare. She hadn’t been here, and Mom had needed her. For years, Mom had tried to convince Lexi that she was one step from the grave, that any stress could send her right to the hospital, and Lexi had coddled—but generally ignored—the hysteria.
But now this. Omigod, this.
Had the stress of Lexi leaving caused her heart attack?
“She’s stable, Lex. There are so many machines hooked to her right now that she can’t even blink without somebody knowing about it.”
“I know. I just—I’m not thirsty, okay?”
Katie sat down beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Honey, have you eaten anything today?”
“I’m not hungry, Kate.” Lexi held her stomach, which had been impossibly riled since Katie’s phone call Sunday morning.
Food hadn’t even entered her mind, honestly.
“I know you’re very, very busy feeling very, very guilty here, but please tell me you’re internalizing the part about her doing really well right now. They did the balloon, they’ve unblocked her, and she’s going to be all right.”
“I know. I’m just still processing the adrenaline, all right? My head knows she’s going to be fine. The rest of me hasn’t caught up yet.”
“Then come for a walk with me. The cafeteria has decent coffee, actually.” Kate took her arm and pulled her up.
As they headed toward the elevators, Lexi couldn’t help but think of Jasper’s little downtown coffee shop in Carefree. And then she couldn’t help but think of the cowboy who’d held the cup of coffee under her nose so she could fully appreciate the aroma before she’d been allowed a sip.
When they got to the cafeteria, she and Katie filled to-go cups with dark br
ew, and Katie tossed two packets of peanut butter crackers on their tray.
“It’s food.” She shrugged. “Sort of.”
They sat down, and Kate sipped her coffee, then set it on the table. “You know, I thought she was joking.”
“You did?”
“Well, I mean, seriously. The woman could have written the never-cry-wolf story, except she’s the only one who doesn’t see that that’s what she’s always done. She said she was pale, and her heart felt funny, and she couldn’t lift her left arm.”
“Pretty clear symptoms of a heart attack, don’t you think?”
“Totally. Which is why I wasn’t sure whether to take her seriously. It was like a textbook complaint list.”
“So what made you go over to her house?”
“I told her to call 911, and she wouldn’t. But she sounded funny about it this time—not like the others, when she knew she’d be found out if she actually called the EMTs. So I called them. They got there before I did.”
Lexi nodded slowly. “Well, you did the right thing.”
“But I almost didn’t, Lex. You would have known how to read her. I didn’t.”
“Sounds like you did just fine, honey. Don’t second-guess yourself.”
“But even when the guys were there, taking her blood pressure and loading her up, I still wanted to pinch her and say Enough, Mom. You got us good this time. Isn’t that terrible?”
Lexi knew she was punch-drunk tired, but a vision of her little sister jumping into the ambulance to pinch her mother made her laugh.
Katie looked at her, eyes widening. “Why are you laughing? This isn’t funny!”
“I’m just picturing you jump—never mind.” Lexi cleared her throat. “Sorry. Totally inappropriate laughter. You’re right.” Then she smiled again. “But can you imagine if you’d actually pinched her?”
“Lexi!” Katie tried her most imperious tone, but it only lasted two seconds before she, too, let a giggle escape.
It was classic trauma-release laughter, but as she sat there in a too-bright hospital cafeteria with her little sister, Lexi felt a smidge better than she’d felt in the past forty-eight hours. Katie was right—Mom had come through the worst of it, and hopefully, with good rehab and home care, she’d be on the mend sooner than later.
What that rehab and home care looked like, however, wasn’t something they’d discussed yet. Lexi took a deep breath. She had a feeling she knew exactly whose shoulders it would land on, though.
“It’s going to be a long road to recovery, isn’t it?” Her own voice sounded small, even to her.
“Yeah.” Katie spun her cup slowly. “I think it is. How are we going to do this, Alexis? Do you have any idea what her insurance covers?”
Oh, Lexi knew, all right. Not a damn lot, that’s what.
“I’m afraid it’s going to be the Lexi-Katie show, hon. She’ll hopefully get some rehab days, but after that, she’ll be all ours.”
Katie closed her eyes tightly. “She’s not going to be able to navigate her house without us, is she?”
“Not with a broken hip, no.” Lexi sighed. Sometime between the 911 call and the ambulance arriving, Mom had tried to walk from the kitchen to the living room,but had fallen. It wasn’t until after her heart attack had been handled that she’d alerted anyone to the pain in her hip. “And cardiac rehab from a wheelchair takes a lot longer.”
“So I know this is going to sound like a stupid question, but before I freak out completely, can you please promise me you aren’t going back to Montana to finish your contract? Will they let you out of it for extenuating circumstances?”
Katie’s voice was suddenly small and scared, and Lexi knew her little sister was terrified that Lexi might leave her alone to face the monumental task of nursing Mom back to health, even for the first few weeks.
“I’m not going anywhere, Kit-Kat. You know I wouldn’t.”
No, she wouldn’t, despite the fact that a huge—but horrifyingly guilty—part of her wanted to head for the hospital exit, catch the next plane west, and hide out at Whisper Creek for the duration of Mom’s recuperation.
Lexi sighed, picturing Gunnar as he’d lifted her onto Bella, as he’d shied away from the lobsters…as he’d leaned in to kiss her.
She took a shaky breath, knowing she couldn’t—at least right now—give Katie any indication that Gunnar was even entering her mind. Her sister would lose it.
She knew he was still on the road, so she hadn’t even called or texted him herself yet. He probably imagined she was still safe at Whisper Creek, sitting by the window in her cozy little cabin.
Lexi took a deep breath, pulling a pad of paper out of her purse. “So I think we need to start making some plans for when Mom gets out of here. Her insurance plan will have her booted long before we’re ready, so we need to prepare, whether we like it or not.”
“Okay.” Katie took a deep breath. “What do we need to do?”
“Well, for starters, one of us is going to have to stay with her for a while.”
Katie tipped her head, but didn’t speak for a long moment. “You’re thinking that’s…you, right?”
“Or…we could take turns.” As guilty as Lexi felt about not being here when Mom needed her, she had this sudden resistance to the martyrdom she’d displayed for most of her life. “She’s your mother, too.”
“I know. And I know that’d be fair. But Lexi, seriously. You’re better with her.”
“I’m better with her because I’ve been the one who’s been her go-to girl for the past ten years, not because I’ve got some natural affinity for this sort of thing.”
“But you’re a nurse.”
“And you’re a bed-and-breakfast manager. Both of those are skill sets we’re going to need, in equal measure.”
Katie frowned. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”
“I’m not trying to make it hard. It’s just our reality right now. I’ll need to go back to work, too.”
“But don’t you get, like, twenty sick days or something?”
“No.” Lexi shook her head. “I already used them for Mom’s previous…issues, when you couldn’t take time off.” She knew Katie heard the silent reprimand in her words, but she was too tired to take them back.
Katie spun her cup in faster circles, and Lexi shifted her chair to the side in case the stupid thing dumped.
“Lex, I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
She took a deep breath. “Of her needing us…like, forever. I mean, I pictured it coming someday, but not now.”
“She’s our mother, Kate.” Lexi tried to make her voice even and soft, instead of angry and resentful, like she actually felt. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”
She put away the pad and pen. It had been stupid to get it out in the first place. She’d just been desperate to be able to do something, anything besides sit in that damn windowless room waiting for the ten-minute window when they were allowed in to see Mom.
“I’m sorry, Alexis.” Katie sighed. “I’m just…not so great with the whole caregiver thing.”
Lexi tipped her head. “You care for people for a living, Kate. It’s what you do.”
“But they’re not sick. I don’t do sick people.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what. I’ll try to handle the medical stuff that might make you crazy, if you’ll play gin rummy with her every day.”
Katie reached across the table and took Lexi’s hand. “We’ll be okay, right? I mean, I know she’ll probably be okay at this point, but you and me? We’ll be good? You won’t leave me? You promise?”
Lexi squeezed her hand, thinking of the one man who’d ever made her think that maybe, just maybe, she could be the center of someone else’s universe, instead of the other way around.
“I’m not going anywhere, Kit-Kat.” She sighed, sitting back in her chair and sipping the terrible, nothing-like-Jasper’s coffee. “Nowhere at all.”
Chapter 20
Tha
t night, as she sat in the waiting room trying to find some amusement in the comic sections of Readers’ Digest, Lexi felt her phone vibrate in her purse. All day long, she’d been trying not to look at the damn thing, knowing Gunnar was due back at Whisper Creek this afternoon. All day long, she’d tried to wait one more hour before calling him, because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t bring herself to text. It just seemed hideously impersonal, after their last conversation.
She dug the phone out, then put her hand to her mouth when she saw his name pop up.
“Who is it?” Katie asked, leaning over from the uncomfortable chair next to Lexi’s.
“It’s…Gunnar.”
Katie took a deep, unsteady breath. “The cowboy.”
“Yeah.” Lexi pressed her lips together, tapping on the text icon to see his message. When it came up, she couldn’t help but smile. She’d had three days to toss his words through her mind at warp speed, frontward and backward and upside down, and because she was—well, who she was—she was dead afraid that in those same three days, he’d maybe realized he’d leaped way too soon into way too personal territory the other night. She’d pictured his extraction messages, one by one, every possibility, until she’d finally put a pillow over her head to try to sleep.
But here on her phone, in sweet little letters, were the words Dying to talk to you. Can I call?
“I’m going to go out to the hallway and give him a call,” she told Katie, who just nodded tightly.
When she found a private nook with a chair, she took a deep breath and sent a little prayer upward. Then she called. Before the phone finished the first ring, he answered, and a feeling of such sweet, warm gratitude swept through her that she almost cried.
“Lex.” His voice was deep, concerned. “How are you doing?”
“Well? Could be better, to be honest. Thanks for texting.”
“I’m so sorry I didn’t know sooner. I had no cell service the entire trip, and it was a quick turnaround on the other end. How’s your mom?”
“She’s…okay. She’s going to be fine, I think. It’s just—it’s going to be a long, uphill battle to get there.”
“So her heart? It’s okay?”
Unlucky in Love Page 19
