THE M.D. SHE HAD TO MARRY

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THE M.D. SHE HAD TO MARRY Page 9

by Christine Rimmer


  But it wouldn't have been practical, Lacey told herself. It was such short notice, after all. And Jenna was seven months pregnant. Maybe she didn't feel up to any serious traveling at this point.

  It wouldn't have been practical…

  Lacey sat back in her cousin's leather desk chair and shook her head at the phoniness of her own excuses.

  Practicality wasn't the issue.

  The issue was that she didn't want the woman Logan had loved for fifteen years at her wedding—even if that woman did happen to be her own wonderful big sister.

  Lacey had a feeling the idea didn't hold much appeal for Jenna, either. Or maybe Jenna was just being considerate and would have come in a minute if Lacey had only asked her.

  Whatever.

  Someday, they would all have to deal with this uncomfortable situation.

  Someday.

  But not right now.

  Right now, there was too much to deal with already. A new baby. A new husband. A new life in her old hometown.

  She got up from the chair, pushed it under the big desk and went out to thank Tess for the use of the phone.

  * * *

  All the local Bravos showed up for the wedding. Cash and Abby and their little boy, Tyler. And another cousin, Nate, who brought his wife Meggie and their toddler, Jason James. Meggie had a cousin of her own named Sonny. Sonny had a wife and two kids. They all came, too.

  The honorable Reverend Applegate, who, as it turned out, had presided at the weddings of Cash and Abby and Tess and Zach, performed the ceremony. He kept it simple and brief.

  Lacey gaped in disbelief when Logan slipped a diamond ring on her finger. Now, where had he found the time to go out and buy that? He must have read her thoughts in her expression, because he leaned close and whispered, "I bought it in Meadow Valley, the day before I flew out here to get you."

  She stared down at the lovely bright stone glittering on her finger, then whispered back, "Pretty sure of yourself, weren't you?"

  He answered with a question of his own. "Do you like it?"

  And she had to confess, "I do. Oh, Logan. Thank you. I like it very much."

  The Reverend Applegate coughed to get their attention. "And now," the reverend intoned, "You may kiss the bride."

  Logan kissed her. Pure heaven, Logan's kiss. She threw her arms around him and kissed him back.

  The Reverend had to cough again to remind them that they'd been kissing long enough. As they drew apart, Lacey heard chuckling from more than one of the guests. And sniffling, too—Edna or Tess, probably.

  After the ceremony, they all sat down to dinner at the long table in the dining room. Tess and Edna had put out the best china and silver. There were candles, twelve in all, thin white tapers in antique silver candlesticks. In their warm light, the china gleamed and the fine, old family linen gave off an ivory glow.

  The cousins and their wives took turns toasting the happy couple.

  "To Lacey and Logan…"

  "To the bride and groom…"

  "To happiness…"

  "Eternal love…"

  Logan laid his hand over Lacey's. She twined her fingers with his.

  It will all work out, she told herself. I love him and he … well, he cares for me. And he wants to take care of me. And there's Rosie. She needs us both. I'll take Tess's advice, she promised herself, as Zach stood to propose another toast.

  I'll do everything I can to give love a place to grow…

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  « ^ »

  They left for California early Monday morning, Logan following behind Lacey in his rental car to Buffalo, where he'd made arrangements to drop the car off.

  In Buffalo, Logan took the wheel of the SUV. They made surprisingly good time the first day, considering that they had a newborn as a passenger. They stayed in Salt Lake City that night, in a nice hotel that provided excellent room service. They ate by candlelight, in the sitting room of their suite.

  Lacey said, "This is getting to be a habit with us, romantic dinners with candles on the table…" She had her shoes off by then and she reached out her toe and hooked it under the cuff of Logan's trouser leg.

  He gave her a smoldering look from under those sinfully thick, dark lashes of his. "If you keep that up, you won't get a chance to finish your dinner."

  She laughed, a thoroughly naughty laugh, a laugh that made his dark eyes smolder all the more.

  Of course, it was too soon after Rosie's birth to make love in the fullest sense. But Lacey had always been an imaginative woman. She liked giving pleasure as much as she enjoyed receiving it.

  On their wedding night, by the time they finally got into bed together in the cabin, she'd been too tired to think of anything but curling up close to Logan and trying to catch a few winks before Rosie woke and demanded feeding again. But in the morning she'd felt a little friskier. She'd been able to remind her new husband of how much he appreciated what she could do with her lips and her hands.

  She'd reminded him more than once since then.

  He said she was insatiable.

  She patiently explained to him that, no, he was insatiable. She was merely helpful.

  "Eat your dinner," he commanded gruffly.

  She shrugged and picked up her fork.

  Later, after Rosie had been fed and diapered for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, Logan took Lacey's hand and led her to the king-size bed. She had planned, once again, to show him just how helpful she could be.

  But her body, evidently, wasn't quite so willing as her mind. She closed her eyes when her head hit the pillow. And that was it. She didn't open them again until Rosie started crying for her next feeding.

  Tuesday, they ended up in Winnemucca, Nevada. They shared a pizza in the room and fell asleep watching television—with the sound down very low, of course, in order not to disturb their slumbering daughter.

  Wednesday, they were on the road good and early. In Reno, at a little after eleven o'clock, they made a brief stop at the airport to pick up Logan's Cadillac. And by early Wednesday afternoon, Lacey was pulling her SUV into the tree-shaded driveway of Logan's two-story house in Meadow Valley, just a block and a half from the old Queen Anne Victorian where she had grown up. Logan nosed his Cadillac in beside her.

  He had their luggage and all the baby's things out of the back of the SUV and stacked in the skylighted two-story front foyer in no time at all. "I thought we'd put Rosie in the east bedroom, the one that overlooks the back deck. It's the closest one to the master suite, so that'll minimize the running back and forth."

  "Sounds fine," Lacey said. "The closer the better."

  Rosie was right there in the foyer with them, lying on her back in the bassinet that Tess had given her, making little cooing sounds and staring up toward the skylight.

  "She's happy," Lacey said. "Let's get moving before she decides she's hungry again." She picked up a big suitcase.

  Logan took it from her. "No heavy lifting for you."

  She made a face at him. "I'm fine."

  "Take that stack of baby blankets and come on. You can start putting things in drawers while I carry it all up there."

  * * *

  "We'll have to fix this room up for a baby," Logan said half an hour later, as Lacey was changing their daughter on the queen-size bed in the room Logan had chosen for her. "We need a crib, and a changing table—"

  Lacey nodded. "And a dresser or two, some cute kid's-room curtains, new paint—the works." She pressed the tab on the diaper and straightened Rosie's little pink T-shirt. "There. All clean."

  Logan said, "Listen…"

  She put the baby on her shoulder and smiled at him. "What?"

  "I want to check in at my office for a while. Will you be all right?"

  "Sure."

  "The refrigerator should be fully stocked." He had called his housekeeper, Mrs. Hopper, before they left Wyoming, to ask her to have everything ready for them.

  "I'll be fine," Lacey s
aid.

  "I need to … have a talk with my partners. I thought maybe I'd take them to dinner, if I can catch them and they can make the time."

  Dinner? That was hours away. "You'll be gone until sometime in the evening, then? Is that what you're saying?" She really did try not to sound as bewildered as his sudden decision to take off for so long made her feel.

  "Lace. I've left them high and dry for two weeks—after giving them virtually no notice that I was leaving and no reason why. I only said I had some personal problems that couldn't wait. I owe them an explanation and I want to get it taken care of as soon as possible."

  Lacey forced an understanding smile. "Hey. It's okay, really." And it was. If only she didn't feel so disoriented suddenly. As if she'd woken up and out of nowhere found herself in some other woman's skin.

  Lord. Married to Logan. The mother of his baby. Standing here in his beautiful house on Orchard Street with its spacious rooms and high ceilings, its skylights and arched windows, its walk-in closets in every room—the house where he and Jenna were supposed to have lived.

  Logan was watching her, a frown marring his brow. "I'm sorry," he said. "If you're really uncomfortable with my leaving right now, it can wait until tomorrow."

  Lacey shook herself. What was the matter with her? He was a doctor. If she couldn't get used to his being gone for long stretches of time, she'd be in big trouble.

  And this was her hometown, for heaven's sake. If she got too lonely, she could call an old friend—one of the twins, her high school buddies, Mira or Maud.

  But then again, maybe not. Not right away, anyway.

  The twins had mellowed a lot in recent years. They no longer automatically despised anyone who embraced what they considered to be "establishment" values. But they still considered Logan something of a stuffed shirt. And Logan didn't think too highly of them, either.

  She didn't know if she was ready right yet to listen to what they'd have to say to her when they learned that not only had she given birth to Mr. Straight-Arrow's baby, she'd gone and married him as well.

  "Give me Rosie," Logan said. "I'll rock her for a while and you can go on in and lie down."

  She granted him her best rebellious scowl. "Get out of here. Rosie and I can manage just fine."

  Relief brought a smile to that sexy mouth of his. "You're sure?"

  "Positive."

  He leaned toward her and brushed a kiss at her temple. A moment later, he was gone.

  * * *

  Logan found Dan on duty at the office.

  "Great. You're here." The other doctor clapped Logan heartily on the back. "Safe and sound. And a day early, too. Listen, I've got five of your patients scheduled for this afternoon, but since you're here now…" He let the suggestion finish itself.

  "No problem. I'll take them."

  "Good. And we'll need some consulting time, tomorrow morning, if possible. Get it out of the way. You've got a few surgeries to schedule and a mountain of charts we need to go over."

  "Tomorrow morning's fine. Where's Helen?"

  "She's already taken off for rounds at Miner's." All three had privileges at the local hospital, Miner's General.

  "But she's coming back here later?"

  "I think she said she'd drop back by around four-thirty, see if she could pick up the slack for me if I get too far behind. That shouldn't be a problem now, though, with you here."

  "Right. No problem now—but I do need to ask a favor of both of you."

  Dan rolled his eyes, but in a good-natured way. "Do not tell me you're taking off for another two weeks."

  "I'm not. I just want to explain the details of my trip to Wyoming. Can you clear off your calendar enough to let me buy you dinner tonight?"

  "Tonight…" Dan said, considering. "I don't know. I'll have to check with Fiona." Fiona was Dan's wife of twenty-five years, a slender, gracious woman who chaired a number of volunteer organizations and loved to entertain. "Wednesdays are supposed to be our night out, just the two of us."

  "Tell her it's all my fault and ask her to please forgive me. In fact, you're on call tomorrow night, right?"

  "Right."

  "You and Fiona can have it. I'll take the emergencies. We have to talk, Dan. As soon as Helen gets here, I'll ask her to join us, too."

  "Is this … bad news?" Dan looked stricken.

  Logan couldn't blame the other man for his reaction. Logan had joined the partnership just a few years ago, when the previous third partner had retired. As the junior member of the team, his partners rightfully expected him to take up the slack for them, to make their jobs easier. Since he'd learned that Lacey was pregnant, he hadn't been doing what they expected of him. It was only logical that Dan would now anticipate more of the same.

  Logan hastened to reassure him. "No. It's not bad news, I promise you. It's just something you both need to be brought up to speed on, that's all."

  Dan's expression relaxed. "Well. Good enough, then. I'll tell Fiona I'm all hers tomorrow night—and maybe tonight we could try Frau Angelica's? They say the rack of lamb there is out of this world."

  "I'll get Cathy to call and make us a reservation." Cathy was their extremely efficient receptionist. "Seven-thirty?"

  "Better make it eight. I've got rounds of my own after I get through here."

  "And I haven't been in to take a look at my desk yet, but I can guess that the in-box is stacked sky high."

  "You imagine right." Dan affected a sigh.

  "It's settled then. I'll have Cathy make the reservation for eight."

  * * *

  Reality check, Lacey kept thinking—or rather, unreality check. The afternoon had somehow turned into one long unreality check.

  Her baby was demanding. But not that demanding. Rosie slept a lot. And while Rosie was sleeping, Lacey had plenty of time for wandering around Logan's house, meandering from one big, bright, beautifully appointed room to the next, wondering vaguely if this could really be her life.

  Or if somehow, she had turned into Jenna.

  Not the real Jenna, the strong, self-directed woman who had finally accepted her abiding love for Mack McGarrity and discovered that what she wanted most was a life at his side.

  No, not that Jenna. But the other Jenna, the sweet, unassuming hometown girl who'd always known exactly how things would go for her: high school and then college in Los Angeles—just to get a taste of the big world out there. And then back to Meadow Valley to open a cute little shop, marry her high school sweetheart and have a half-dozen kids.

  Lacey could see Jenna's touch everywhere in the house. All the curtains and area rugs, the towels in the bathrooms, even some of the furniture could have been bought at Linen and Lace, the shop Jenna had owned over on Commercial Street

  . A lot of the things no doubt had been bought there.

  Logan had made an offer on the house three years ago. Lacey remembered Jenna mentioning the purchase. And over the months that followed, Jenna had helped him decorate it. They'd been dating again then, Jenna and Logan. And there had been a kind of unspoken understanding between them. That, eventually, he would ask. And she would say yes.

  And then he had asked.

  What neither of them had counted on was Mack McGarrity striding back into the picture, adding that key extra element that turned everything upside down.

  Now, Jenna lived in Florida with Mack.

  And Lacey lived with Logan in the house Jenna had decorated with the idea that someday it would be her house, too.

  Strange. Bizarre. Unreal.

  During the endless afternoon alone, while her daughter slept, Lacey went into each of the two unused bedrooms in turn. She stretched out on the beds and gazed at the ceilings. She looked in the closets and then stood at the windows, trying to picture herself creating a workspace there.

  But in the end, she found herself staring at the curtains, or at an obviously expensive, hand-knotted rug on the hardwood floor.

  She would stare and she would think: Jenna's choices
.

  Lacey never did decide which room to take. Probably the one in the southwest corner—it had windows on two sides and that meant more light.

  But whichever room she chose, she would take down the pretty window treatments and banish the bed with its matching linens, its attractively contrasting tumble of throw pillows. The gorgeous area rugs would have to go. She would paint the walls eggshell white, install rice-paper blinds and leave the floors naked and shining, so that she could walk barefoot and feel the warm give of the wood beneath her soles.

  After lingering for hours in each of the two unused bedrooms, she went down to the main floor. She wandered the dining room, the living room, the family room, thinking how lovely it all was, thinking…

  Unreality check.

  She stayed in the kitchen a long time, opening and closing the doors of the huge stainless steel refrigerator, turning the big knobs on the chef-style range, gazing at the LaCuisine forged cutlery, mounted so cleverly on the wall over the green marble counter by means of a magnetized knife block.

  Eventually, she opened the flatware drawer and stared at the forks.

  And it happened.

  One of those turn-around moments. The kind that occurs when you think you're driving south in some place you've never been before. You pass a landmark, something startlingly familiar.

  And all of a sudden, you find you know right where you are. You've driven this route and you know it well. And, wonder of wonders, you're going north—which is the direction you actually wanted to go.

  Yes. A turn-around moment. Lacey looked at the forks in Logan's flatware drawer and all at once, she wasn't thinking of Jenna, or wondering if somehow she had taken over Jenna's life.

  All at once, she was thinking strictly of herself. Standing naked in this very kitchen, tearing into a four-layer devil's food cake and feeding it to Logan, who happened to be just as naked as she.

  By then, she was smiling.

  And when she thought, unreality check, it was more with humor than with hurt.

  * * *

  At Frau Angelica's, after their entrées had been served, Logan embarked on the task of telling his partners everything he thought they needed to know.

 

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