03_The Doctor's Perfect Match

by Irene Hannon

  She sagged against the wall. J.C.

  Relieved, she padded over to the door and pulled it open.

  Her brother grinned as he eyed her baggy sleep shirt, tousled curls and bare feet. “Did I wake you?”

  “It’s eight-thirty. Only slugs sleep this late.”

  “Hey, it’s okay to sleep in on vacation. Although this hasn’t been much of one for you, from what I can see.”

  “I like keeping busy.”

  “That’s not what vacation is supposed to be all about.”

  At his chiding tone, she folded her arms across her chest and gave him a pointed look. “To each his own. So, what’s up?”

  “A little prickly this morning, aren’t we?”

  She chose not to dignify that comment with a reply. Instead, she arched an eyebrow and shot him a disparaging look—a well-practiced stance that discouraged most men.

  But it didn’t work with her brother. It never had.

  Chuckling, he propped a shoulder against the doorframe. “You know, I love you even when you’re in one of these ornery moods. Anyway, Heather and I are going to brunch after church. Want to join us? We could swing back around and pick you up.”

  Uh-oh. She hadn’t told him about her plans for the morning, intending to simply walk into church and surprise him. That way, he’d have the whole service to recover from his shock at her presence. And if she was lucky, Heather would rein in the interrogation that was sure to follow.

  “Um, I’m not sure that will work.”

  “Why not? We’ll have the car, so you can’t go anywhere. You might as well eat with us.”

  She was stuck. He’d keep pushing until she gave him a reasonable explanation for her refusal.

  Taking a deep breath, she plunged in. “I don’t know what my plans will be after church, J.C. I’m going to the service with Christopher.”

  Her brother’s astonished expression was almost comical. “You’re going to church?”

  “Yeah.”

  “With Christopher Morgan? Henry’s neighbor?”

  “Yeah.”

  He squinted at her. “Why?”

  “It’s a chance to meet the minister. He’s interested in helping get the elder-assistance program I told you about off the ground. And that will be good for Henry.” She checked her watch. “Look, he’s going to be here in a few minutes. I need to get ready.”

  She started to close the door, but J.C.’s hand shot out and grabbed the edge. “Not so fast. You can’t drop a bombshell like that and then shut the door. I’ve been trying for years to get you to go to church. Yet the first time the good doctor invites you, you accept. How come I think there’s more to this than helping Henry?”

  “Because you have a suspicious and cynical mind honed by years of detective work among the dregs of Chicago humanity.” She shook the door. “Let it go, J.C. And I’m talking about more than the door.”

  He ignored her. “Am I sensing a touch of romance here?” A grin once more tugged at his lips. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you blush.”

  “Just because you’re a newlywed does not mean others share your interest in all that mushy stuff,” she said through clenched teeth, ruing the telltale warmth in her cheeks.

  “Sounds like a certain ’Sconset doctor might.”

  She clamped her lips together, jerked the door free and slammed it in his face.

  Much to her dismay, she heard his muted laughter on the other side of the door.

  “For the record, I’m all for it,” he called. “Assuming he’s a good guy, of course.”

  “Goodbye, J.C.”

  Another chuckle. “See you at church.”

  The sound of his off-key whistling floated in through the open window as he headed back down the flagstone path toward Lighthouse Lane.

  Stomping into the bathroom, Marci rummaged through her makeup kit and twisted the cap off her mascara. Talk about overbearing big brothers!

  He was reading way too much into this church visit, she assured herself as she added a touch of blush, applied some lipstick and returned to the main room. Christopher’s only reason for suggesting they attend services together was to introduce her to the minister. There had been nothing personal about the invitation.

  Not true, a little voice whispered in her mind. A simple phone call to the minister would have sufficed as an introduction. He invited you for the same reason you accepted.

  She had to face reality.

  While she’d consented to accompany Christopher on the pretext of implementing his plan and helping Henry, the primary drive behind her decision had been her attraction to the blue-eyed doctor with the compassionate heart.

  And after that moment in the garden when he’d almost kissed her, she knew the feeling was mutual.

  That was the truth. Straight-up. And ignoring it wasn’t going to change anything. She needed to confront the situation head-on and with absolute honesty. That was the best way to deal with it.

  However, that honesty did not have to extend to her brother, she decided as she smoothed her skirt over her hips.

  Because the last thing she needed in her life was another matchmaker.

  As the pianist played the introduction for the final hymn, Christopher sent Marci a discreet glance. Each time he’d checked on her, she’d appeared to be engaged in the service. She’d listened with rapt attention to Reverend Kaizer, who had used the story of Mary Magdalene to illustrate the theme of forgiveness in his sermon. She’d followed along in the hymnal, though she hadn’t joined in the singing. She’d closed her eyes a few times during the readings, as if contemplating the words of scripture.

  Although she’d seemed a bit on edge when he’d picked her up, her expression now was serene, suggesting she’d found the experience worthwhile.

  And that was good. For a lot of reasons—some of which were personal. It had always been important to him that any woman he dated share his basic beliefs.

  But this wasn’t a date, he reminded himself.

  Even if he wished it was.

  The hymn ended, and Christopher stepped out of the pew. When Marci exited behind him, he took her arm and guided her toward the back of church.

  “What did you think?”

  “It was interesting. I didn’t expect to leave with such a peaceful feeling. Is it like that for you?”

  “Every Sunday.”

  As they joined the groups of congregants gathering on the church lawn, Edith waved to them. Taking Chester’s arm, she tugged him in their direction.

  “Well, isn’t this cozy!” She beamed at them as she drew close. “I didn’t realize you two were so well-acquainted.”

  Christopher sent Marci a quick look, noted the pink tinge on her cheeks and diverted the conversation to a less personal topic. “Marci’s doing some development work on that elder-assistance program I mentioned to you a few months ago. She might need to tap into your network of contacts.”

  “Glad to help. Sounds like a worthwhile effort. What got you interested?” she asked Marci.

  “Henry Calhoun, Christopher’s neighbor. He had a fall, and he’ll be needing some assistance once he goes home. I met him when he came to tea, and we hit it off.”

  “I heard about Henry’s accident from a friend who works at the hospital. Don’t know him well myself, but our paths have crossed a few times. Nice man. You’ve met him, haven’t you, Chester?”

  “Yep.”

  Christopher took Marci’s arm—a propriety gesture not lost on Edith, judging by the sudden twinkle in the older woman’s eye. He hoped Marci hadn’t noticed. She was skittish enough already. “If you’ll excuse us, I want to introduce Marci to Reverend Kaizer. He’ll be another good resource for the program.”

  “By all means. Grab him while he has a free minute. See you both later.” With a flutter of fingers, Edith headed toward another cluster of people, Chester trotting along a few steps behind.

  A rueful grin playing at his lips, Christopher shook his head. “To use an old
cliché, I don’t think any grass grows under her feet.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Let’s catch Reverend Kaizer before someone else corners him.”

  Five minutes later, after a conversation that included setting up an appointment for Marci to meet with the man early in the week, they strolled side-by-side across the grass toward his car.

  “I stopped in to see Henry on my way to pick you up.”

  “I’m planning to visit him later. How is he?”

  “Improving. When I left, he was trying to convince Patricia to go home early.”

  She gave him a wry smile “I can’t say I blame him. She’s—”

  “Marci!”

  At the summons, they stopped. Marci’s brother and his wife were approaching, and Christopher thought he detected a quiet sigh from the woman beside him.

  J.C. stuck out his hand, and Christopher took it in a firm grip. As the two men exchanged a greeting, he recognized the protective look in J.C.’s eyes. Marci’s brother was sizing him up. Interesting. It seemed Edith and Henry weren’t the only ones picking up the vibes between him and the lovely lady beside him.

  “Hello, Heather.” He smiled at the elegant woman with the light brown hair.

  She tucked her hand in her husband’s arm with an amused smile. “Nice to see you, Christopher.”

  “Marci, I wanted to check with you on the brunch. You never did say what your plans were for after church.” J.C. gave Christopher a speculative perusal.

  “If it’s okay, I thought I might borrow Heather’s computer and do a little work on the elder-assistance plan.”

  His gaze whipped back to her, and he frowned. “You’re not supposed to work on Sunday. This should be a day of rest and relaxation and fun.” J.C. directed another glance his way, and Christopher recognized the hint.

  So did Marci.

  And she didn’t like it.

  Stepping closer to her brother, she fixed him with a narrow-eyed glare. “I don’t have a lot of time left here, J.C., and I want to make some progress on the plan. In fact, if you don’t mind, you and Heather can drop me off at the house on your way to eat and save Christopher a trip.”

  “I don’t mind taking you home,” Christopher chimed in.

  She turned to him with a smile that seemed pasted on. “Thank you. But this is more practical.”

  And it also sent a clear message to her brother, he acknowledged. Back off. Butt out. Don’t push.

  A grin twitched at Heather’s lips, and she moved closer to her husband. “We’ll be happy to run you home, Marci. Right, J.C.?”

  He gave his sister a disgruntled scowl, clearly not pleased with the outcome of the conversation.

  “Thanks, Heather.” Marci sent the other woman a grateful look before she addressed him. “I’ll see you around, Christopher. Thanks for introducing me to Reverend Kaizer.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Linking her arm with her brother’s, Marci propelled him toward the car. Flanked by the two women, J.C. had no option except to follow.

  Christopher shoved his hands into his pockets and watched them walk away, a grin of admiration tugging at his lips. Marci Clay was one feisty woman. If her deft handling of her brother was any indication, very few people managed to outmaneuver her.

  “Lovely girl, isn’t she?”

  He shifted around to find Edith once more approaching. “Yes, she is. With a very protective brother.”

  “J.C. feels a lot of responsibility for his siblings. He raised them after their mother died, you know.”

  “I heard part of that story.”

  “He just wants what’s best for Marci.”

  “I can understand that.”

  She nodded in approval. “In that case, you and he will hit it off fine. Well, it’s off to The Flake and some sugar doughnuts for us. I’ll talk to Marci later today and see how I can help with that plan of yours.”

  Signaling to Chester, who was talking to another older man across the lawn, she headed toward the parking area.

  As Christopher ambled back to his own car, he replayed Edith’s comment about J.C. wanting what was best for Marci. He did, too.

  The question was, what was best for her?

  Based on the message she’d just sent her brother, it was clear she didn’t think it was a relationship between them. And he would have agreed with that conclusion until a few days ago.

  Now he wasn’t as certain it was true.

  For her…or for him.

  She was finished.

  Wiping her hands on her jeans, Marci stepped up onto Henry’s back porch and surveyed the yard. After nine days of hard work, the garden lining three sides of the fence looked pristine. The myriad of flowers lovingly planted by Henry’s wife had been revealed, and though she didn’t know many of their names, Marci appreciated the blending of heights and colors and textures that spoke of careful planning and an eye for beauty.

  Today marked another milestone, too. Henry was leaving the hospital for the rehab facility.

  She’d taken to calling it that, hoping it would reinforce the temporary nature of his stay. But the older man still wasn’t happy about it. He wanted to come home. Sooner rather than later.

  The one bright spot was that his daughter had gone. Meaning his life was much more peaceful.

  Gathering up the heavy-duty gardening tools for the last time, Marci glanced over at Christopher’s cottage as she lugged them toward the storage shed. Since their trip to church three days ago, she’d made a conscious effort to avoid him. No sense adding more fuel to the fire. Both Edith and J.C. had been peppering her with questions about their relationship. Edith had taken the subtle approach, always prefaced by the delivery of some sweet treat to her cottage. J.C. had been much more direct.

  Neither tactic had elicited any additional information, however. As her peeved brother had remarked, she’d closed up as tight as a Nantucket quahog.

  And she wasn’t about to open up anytime soon, she resolved, stowing the rake and hoe in the corner of the shed. What was the point? There was no future in a relationship between her and Christopher.

  Besides the fact that she was only a visitor to the island, their backgrounds were too different. He was a doctor. She was an unemployed social worker. He came from wealth. His family had vacationed on pricey Nantucket every year—for three weeks. Her idea of vacation was an El ride to the lake with a sack lunch on a rare free Sunday afternoon. Plus, given his love for children and his support of the pro-life movement, he’d be totally turned off if he knew about the tragic mistakes she’d made.

  Steering clear of him was the sensible thing to do, she assured herself as she secured the shed door.

  That’s why she was timing her garden work and visits to Henry during hours when she knew Christopher was seeing patients. The remainder of the day, she worked on his plan. It was coming along very well and had elicited an enthusiastic response from all the contacts she’d made. If it continued to progress as she hoped, she was confident it would be ready to implement by the time she left.

  Plus, as she finessed the plan, she was also rounding up all the resources Henry would need after he came home to his cottage.

  Her sojourn on Nantucket had been productive in a lot of ways, she thought, fingering the soiled leather garden gloves that had protected her hands from unexpected thorns as she’d toiled in Henry’s garden.

  Too bad she hadn’t had some way to protect her heart as well.

  Because thanks to a certain Nantucket doctor, a piece of it would remain behind when she returned to Chicago, leaving an empty place that she suspected would never be filled again.

  Chapter Ten

  On Thursday afternoon, Marci rounded the corner in the hall at the rehab center—and came face-to-face with Christopher.

  As she stumbled back in surprise, his hand shot out to steady her. “Sorry.”

  In the second it took her to regain her balance, the timing of his visit registered. His presence in the middle of
office hours didn’t bode well.

  Her breath caught in her throat as her pulse accelerated. “Is Henry okay?”

  He frowned. “He’s running a slight temperature. There’s a little inflammation around the incision, which could be the cause. But with his compromised immune system, we’re being aggressive with antibiotics.”

  “It must be serious or you wouldn’t have interrupted office hours.”

  “I had a no-show. That gave me a window to run over. I think he’ll be fine, but we’ll be keeping a close eye on him.”

  “Is he up to a visitor?”

  The furrows on his brow eased, and one side of his mouth hitched up into a smile—which did nothing to calm her pulse. “If her name is Patricia, no. If her name is Marci, yes. I had to promise not to tell his daughter about this glitch, by the way.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “Me, too.” He checked his watch. “I need to run. Go on in. Your visit will cheer him up. His spirits could use a little boost today.”

  “Okay.” She handed him the file that was tucked under her arm. “I was going to leave this with Henry and ask him to pass it on to you, but you might as well as take it with you. It’s a semifinal draft of your plan. Before I go any further, I wanted to get your reaction. See you later.”

  Continuing down the hall, she restrained the urge to look back and see if Christopher was watching her. And hoped the visit with Henry would distract her from thoughts of the blue-eyed doctor.

  It did. But not in a good way.

  Since she’d stopped by yesterday, he seemed to have aged ten years. He was lying down rather than sitting up as he had been when they’d chatted less than twenty-four hours ago, and his cheeks were sunken and flushed.

  Yet when his eyelids flickered open and he saw her, he managed a weary smile. “Hello, Marci. Come to visit an old man, I see.”

  Adopting a bright tone, she walked into the room. “No. I came to visit one of the most youthful men I know.”

  “In spirit, maybe. Too bad the body can’t keep up.”

  She didn’t like his attitude. It held a hint of surrender she’d never heard from him before.