A Cold Creek Homecoming

by RaeAnne Thayne

  Through his confusion, Quinn's heart always ached when he thought of Tess facing all that on her own.

  "I waited and hoped and prayed," she went on. "Through all those years and promises, I felt as if I were frozen in the moment, that the world went on while I was stuck in place, waiting for something that never happened."

  She paused. "He did improve, in minuscule ways. I don't want you to think he didn't. Near the end, he could hold his head up for long periods of time and even started laughing at my silly jokes again. But it was not nearly the recovery I dreamed about in those early days."

  "Tess, I'm very sorry you went through that. But I don't understand your point."

  She swallowed and didn't meet his gaze. "My point is that I spent years waiting for reality to match up to my expectations, waiting for him to change. Even being angry when those expectations weren't met, when in truth, he simply wasn't capable of it. It wasn't his fault. Just the way things were."

  He stared. "So you're comparing me to someone who was critically brain-injured in a car accident?"

  She sighed. "Not at all, Quinn. I'm talking about myself. One of the greatest lessons Scott's accident taught me was pragmatism. I can't hang on to unrealistic dreams and hopes anymore. I want marriage and children and you don't. It's as simple as that."

  "Does it have to be?"

  "For me, yes. Your views might change. I hope for your sake they do. Caring for Scott all those years taught me that the only way we can really find purpose and meaning in life is if we somehow manage to move outside ourselves to embrace the chances we're offered to care for someone else."

  She lifted moist eyes to his. "I hope you change your mind, Quinn. But what if you don't? Say we see each other for six months or a year and then you decide you're still no closer to shifting your perspective about home and family. I would have spent another year moving further away from my dreams. I can't do that to myself or to you."

  That panic from before churned through him, icy and sharp. He didn't want to lose what they had shared these past few days.

  Or maybe it didn't mean as much to her. Why else would she be so willing to throw it all away? Maybe he was just like his mother, trying desperately to keep her from pushing him away.

  No. This wasn't about that. The fear and panic warring inside him took on an edge of anger.

  "This is it, then?" His voice turned hard, ugly. "I was here to scratch an itch for you and now you're shoving me out the door."

  Her lovely features paled. "Not fair."

  "Fair? Don't talk to me about fair." He jumped out of the bed and reached for his Levis, still in a heap on the floor. He couldn't seem to stop the ugly words from spilling out like toxic effluent.

  "You know what I just realized? You haven't changed a bit since your days as Queen Bee at Pine Gulch High. You're still the spoiled, manipulative girl you were in high school. You want what you want and to hell with anybody else and whatever they might need."

  "This has nothing to do with high school or the person I was back then."

  "Wrong. This has everything to do with Tess Jamison, Homecoming Queen. You can't have what you want, your little fantasy happily-ever-after, and so kicking me out of your life completely is your version of throwing a pissy little temper tantrum."

  His gazed narrowed as another repugnant thought occurred to him.

  "Or wait. Maybe that's not it at all. Maybe this is all some manipulative trick, the kind you used to be so very good at. Don't forget, I had years of experience watching you bat your eyes at some poor idiot, all the while you're tightening the noose around his neck without him having the first clue what you're doing. Maybe you think if you push me out now, in a few weeks I'll come running back with tears and apologies, ready to give you anything you want. Even that all-important wedding ring that's apparently the only thing you think matters."

  "You're being ridiculous."

  "You forget, I was the chief recipient of all those dirty tricks you perfected in high school. The lies. The rumors you spread. This is just one more trick, isn't it? Well, guess what? I'm not playing your games now, anymore than I was willing to do it back then."

  She stood on the other side of the room now, her arms folded across her chest and hurt and anger radiating from her.

  "You can't get past it, can you?" She shook her head. "I have apologized and tried to show you I'm a different person than I was then. But you refuse to even consider the possibility that I might have changed."

  He had considered it. He had even believed it for a while.

  "Only one of us is stuck in the past, Quinn. Life has changed me and given me a new perspective. But somewhere deep inside you, you're still a boy stuck in the ugliness of his parents' marriage."

  He stared at her, angry that she would turn this all back around on him when she was the one being a manipulative bitch.

  "You're crazy."

  "Am I? I think the reason you won't let yourself have more than casual relationships with women is because you're so determined not to turn into either one of your parents. You're not about to become your powerless, emotionally needy mother or your workaholic, abusive father. So you've decided somewhere deep in your psyche that your best bet is to just keep everyone else at arm's length so you don't have to risk either option."

  He was so furious, he couldn't think straight. Her assessment was brutal and harsh and he refused to admit that it might also be true.

  "Now you're some kind of armchair psychiatrist?"

  "No. Just a woman who…cares about you, Quinn."

  "You've got a hell of a way of showing it by pushing me away."

  "I'm not pushing you away." Her voice shook and he saw tears in her eyes. Either she was a much better actress than he could possibly imagine or that was genuine regret in her eyes. He didn't know which to believe.

  "You have no idea how hard this is for me," she said and one of those tears trickled down the side of her nose. "I've come to care about you these past few weeks. Maybe I always did, a little. But as much as I have loved these past few days and part of me wants nothing more than to continue seeing you after I move to Portland, it wouldn't be fair to either of us. You can't be the kind of man I want and I'm afraid I would eventually come to hate you for that."

  His arms ached from the effort it took not to reach for her but he kept his hands fisted at his sides. "So that's it. See you later, thanks for the good time in the sack and all that."

  "If you want to be crude about it."

  He didn't. He wanted to grab her and hang on tight and tell her he would be whatever kind of man she wanted him to be. He had discovered a safety, a serenity, with her he hadn't found anywhere else and the idea of leaving it behind left him hollow and achy.

  But she was right. He couldn't offer her the things she needed. He could lie and tell her otherwise but both of them would see through it and end up even more unhappy.

  "I suppose there's nothing left to say, then, is there?"

  She released a shuddering kind of breath and he supposed he should be somewhat mollified that her eyes reflected the same kind of pain shredding his insides.

  "I'm sorry."

  "So am I, Tess."

  He grabbed his things and walked out the door, hoping despite himself that she would call him back, tell him she didn't mean anything she'd said.

  But the only sound as he climbed into his rental car was the mournful October wind in the trees and the distant howl of a coyote.

  * * *

  Tess stood at the window of her bedroom watching Quinn's taillights disappear into the night.

  She couldn't seem to catch her breath and she felt as if she'd just been bucked off one of the Winder Ranch horses, then kicked in the chest for good measure.

  Had she been wrong? Maybe she should have just taken whatever crumbs Quinn could offer, to hell with the inevitable pain she knew waited for her in some murky future.

  At least then she wouldn't have this raw, devastating feeling that she
had just made a terrible mistake.

  With great effort, she forced herself to draw in a deep breath and then another and another, willing her common sense to override the visceral pain and vast emptiness gaping inside her.

  No. She hadn't been wrong, as much as she might wish otherwise. In the deep corners of her heart, she knew it.

  She wanted a home and a family. Not today, maybe not even next year, but someday, certainly. She was ready to move forward with her life and go on to the next stage.

  She had already fallen in love with him, just from these few days. If she spent a year of those weekend encounters he was talking about, she wasn't sure she would ever be able to climb back out.

  Better to break things off now, when she at least had half a chance of repairing the shattered pieces of her heart.

  She would survive. She had been through worse. Scott's death and the long, difficult years preceding it had taught her she had hidden reservoirs of strength.

  She supposed that was a good thing. She had a feeling she was going to need all the strength she could find in the coming months as she tried to go on without Quinn.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Tess? Everything okay?"

  Three months after Jo Winder's death, Tess stood at the nurses' station, a chart in her hand and her mind a million miles away.

  Or at least several hundred.

  She jerked her mind away from Pine Gulch and the tangled mess she had made of things and looked up to find her friend and charge nurse watching her with concern in her brown eyes.

  "I'm fine," she answered Vicki Ballantine.

  "Are you sure? You look white as a sheet and you've been standing there for at least five minutes without moving a muscle. Come sit down, honey, and have a sip of water."

  The older woman tugged her toward one of the chairs behind the long blue desk. Since Vicki was not only her friend but technically her boss, Tess didn't feel as if she had a great deal of choice.

  She sipped at the water and crushed ice Vicki brought her in a foam cup. It did seem to quell the nausea a little, though it didn't do much for the panic that seemed to pound a steady drumbeat through her.

  "You want to tell me what's bothering you?" Vicki asked.

  She drew in a breath then let it out slowly, still reeling from confirmation of what she had begun to suspect for a few weeks but had only just confirmed an hour ago on her lunch break.

  This sudden upheaval all seemed so surreal, the last possible development she had expected to disrupt everything.

  "I don't…I haven't been sleeping well."

  Vicki leaned on the edge of the deck, her plump features set into a frown. "You're settling in okay, aren't you? The house you rented is nice enough, right? It's in a quiet neighborhood."

  "Yes. Everything's fine. I love Portland, you know I do. The house is great and everyone here at the hospital has been wonderful."

  "But you're still not happy."

  At the gentle concern in her friend's eyes and the warm touch of her hand squeezing Tess's arms, tears welled up in her eyes.

  "I am," she lied. "I'm just…"

  She couldn't finish the sentence as those tears spilled over. She pressed her hands to her eyes, mortified that she was breaking down at work.

  Only the hormones, she assured herself, but she knew it was much, much more. Her tears stemmed from fear and longing and the emptiness in her heart that kept her tossing and turning all night.

  Vicki took one look at her emotional reaction and pulled Tess back to her feet, this time ushering her into the privacy of the empty nurses' lounge.

  "All right. Out with it. Tell Auntie Vick what's wrong. This is about some man, isn't it?"

  Through her tears, Tess managed a watery laugh. "You could say that."

  Oh, she had made such a snarled mess of everything. That panic pulsed through her again, harsh and unforgiving, and her thoughts pulsed with it.

  "It always is," Vicki said with a knowing look. "Funny thing is, I didn't even know you were dating anybody."

  "I'm not. We're…" Her voice trailed off and she drew in a heavy breath. Though she wanted to protect her own privacy and give herself time to sort things out, she was also desperate to share the information with someone.

  She couldn't call her mother. Oh, mercy, there was another reason for panic. What would Maura say?

  Her mother wasn't here and she wasn't anywhere close to ready to tell any of her friends in Pine Gulch. Vicki had become her closest friend since moving to Portland and on impulse, she decided she could trust her.

  "I'm pregnant," she blurted out.

  Vicki's eyes widened in shock and her mouth made a perfect little O for a moment before she shut it with a snap. She said nothing for several long moments.

  Just when Tess was kicking herself for even mentioning it in the first place, Vicki gave her a careful look. "And how do you feel about that?"

  "You're the one who said I'm pale as a sheet, right?

  That's probably a pretty good indication."

  "Your color's coming back but you still look upset."

  "I don't know how I feel yet, to tell you the truth," she admitted. "I just went to the doctor on my lunch hour to verify my suspicions. I…guess I'm still in shock. I've wanted a child—children—for so long. Scott and I talked about having several and then, well, things didn't quite work out."

  Though she didn't broadcast her past around, she had confided in Vicki after her first few weeks in Portland about the challenging years of her marriage and her husband's death.

  "And the proud papa? What's his reaction?"

  Tess closed her eyes, her stomach roiling just thinking about how on earth she would tell Quinn.

  "I haven't told him yet. Actually, I…haven't talked to him in three months."

  "If my math is right, this must be someone from Idaho since you've only been here for two months."

  She sighed. "His foster mother was my last patient."

  "Did you two have a big fight or something?"

  She thought of all the accusations they had flung at each other that night. You can't have what you want, your little fantasy happily-ever-after, and so kicking me out of your life completely is your version of throwing a pissy little temper tantrum.

  Now she was pregnant—pregnant!—and she didn't have the first idea what to do about it. She cringed, just imagining his reaction. He would probably accuse her of manipulating the entire thing as some Machiavellian plot to snare him into marriage.

  Maybe you think if you push me out now, in a few weeks I'll come running back with tears and apologies, ready to give you anything you want. Even that all-important wedding ring that's apparently the only thing you think matters.

  She pushed away the bitter memory, trying to drag her attention back to the problem at hand, this pregnancy that had completely knocked the pins out from under her.

  She didn't even know how it had happened. Since hearing the news from her doctor, she had been wracking her brain about their time together and she could swear he used protection every single time. The only possibility was one time when they were in the shower and both became a little too carried away to think about the consequences.

  She had been a nurse for ten years and she knew perfectly well that once was all it took but she never expected this to happen to her.

  "You could say we had a fight," she finally answered Vicki. "We didn't part on exactly amiable terms."

  "If you need to take a little time, I can cover your shift. Why don't you take the rest of the day off?"

  "No. I'm okay. I just need a moment to collect my thoughts. I promise, I can put it out of my head and focus on my patients."

  "At least take a quick break and go on out to the roof for some fresh air. I think the rain's finally stopped and it might help you clear your head."

  She wanted to be tough and insist she was fine. But the hard truth was she felt as if an atomic bomb had just been dropped in her life.

  "Clearing
my head would be good. Thanks."

  When she rose, Vicki gathered her against her ample breast for a tight hug. "It will be okay, sweetheart. If this is what you want, I'm thrilled for you. I know if anyone can handle single motherhood, you can."

  She had serious doubts right now about her ability to handle even the next five minutes, but she still appreciated the other woman's faith in her.

  As she walked outside into the wet and cold January afternoon, she gazed out at the city sprawled out below her. So much for the best-laid plans. When she left Pine Gulch, she had been certain that she had everything figured out. Her life would be different but she had relished the excitement of making changes and facing new challenges.

  In her wildest dreams, she never anticipated this particular challenge.

  She pressed a hand to her abdomen, to the tiny life growing at a rapid pace there.

  A child.

  Quinn's child.

  Emotions choked her throat, both joy and fear.

  This pregnancy might not have been in her plans, but no matter what happened, she would love this child. She already did, even though she had only known of its existence for a short time.

  She pressed her hand to her abdomen again. She had to tell Quinn. Even if he was bitter and angry and believed she had somehow manipulated circumstances to this end, she had to tell him. Withholding the knowledge of his child from him would be wrong, no matter how he reacted.

  She only hoped she could somehow find the courage.

  * * *

  Two weeks later, she was still searching desperately for that strength. With each day that passed, it seemed more elusive than sunshine in a Portland winter.

  Every morning since learning she was pregnant, she awoke with the full intention of calling him that day. But the hours slipped away and she made excuse after excuse to herself.

  He was busy. She was working. She would wait until evening. She didn't have his number.