by Susan Crosby
“Do you miss your life in Sacramento?” Dixie asked. “Miss your business?”
“Not a bit. Keeping the agency staffed was a constant challenge.”
“Denise owned At Your Service,” Dixie told Shana. “It’s a high-level temp agency for clerical and household help. In fact, Denise met Gideon through her agency.”
“My good fortune, and thanks to his brothers, Noah and David, who also hired women from my agency then married them.” Denise smiled. “People nicknamed my agency Wives for Hire. It certainly turned out to be true with the Falcon men.”
Wives for Hire? Dixie grabbed Shana’s arm. “You could do that! You could work through the agency.”
“I could?”
Dixie saw Joe come inside the house. He made eye contact. “Maybe you and Shana could talk about it?” Dixie asked Denise.
“Sure. You understand I don’t own the business anymore, right?”
But Dixie barely heard the response. She went directly toward Joe—
She stopped before she got too close. What was she doing? She couldn’t just walk up to him, like she had a right.
The realization pierced her. She turned around, made her way through the crowd to the family room and squeezed in next to Gavin on the couch. He raised a brow at her.
“Joe just get here?” he asked.
Dixie didn’t bother to deny it.
“If he breaks your heart a second time, Dix, I won’t turn a blind eye again.”
She tucked her arm under his and leaned against his shoulder. “I appreciate the thought, but I can handle it.”
“Well, if you want to get out of Dodge, I’ve got a spare room. Come crash with me.”
“It sounds tempting, believe me. But I’ve got a business to run and a business to build. Doesn’t leave time for much else.”
“You take Sundays and Mondays off from the first one. And certainly Kincaid doesn’t need you around every second while he works. We’ll play tourist. Ride the cable cars, stroll along the Wharf, eat crab until we’re sick. Doctor’s orders.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re my sister. I worry about you. And I love you.”
“I love you, too.” She cocked her head at him. “Are you sure you don’t want to take over Doc Saxon’s practice? You’d be on call twenty-four-seven, the way you like it. Mom and Dad would be only a few blocks away.”
“Why do you hate me, all of a sudden?” He nudged her shoulder playfully, then focused on the door. “Who’s that?”
“Caroline McCoy.”
“Really? What happened to the glasses and braces?”
“Geez, Gavin. You’re remembering her from ten years ago.” Dixie watched him check her out completely. “Go ask her about paramedic school.”
“I think I’ll do that. You’re okay now?”
“Yes, big brother. Thank you.”
“And you’ll come visit me in the city?”
“Yes, big brother.”
He grinned. “You think you’re annoying me with that big-brother stuff. Well, here’s a news flash. I like it.” He patted her knee then headed to where Caroline stood.
Joe inched by them, heading straight for Dixie. She felt trapped, which must have shown on her face.
“Sorry,” he said, crouching in front of her. “But your mom is waiting in your parking lot. I spotted her car and stopped. Your father doesn’t know she’s there. He’s taking a nap.”
“Thank you.” She squeezed his arm briefly. “Merry Christmas.”
“Same to you. Call me later.”
She hurried up to Gavin, who opted not to go with her, then she got Shana and the baby. They walked quickly, Emma crying the whole time. She’d been asleep in Aggie’s arms, the transition to the cold outdoors waking her. As they came into the parking lot, Bea got out of the car.
Dixie didn’t know what to think. She could only hope. But Shana didn’t slow down. She pushed Emma, still fussing in her stroller, toward Dixie and headed right into her mother’s arms and was enveloped.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too, Shana. Me, too.”
Dixie had never seen her mother cry before. It made her cry, too.
Shana clung to her and wept. “I didn’t know until I became a mother myself how much I hurt you.”
Dixie lifted Emma from the stroller and held her close, trying to soothe her, but she wouldn’t stop crying, either.
Finally Shana stepped back and held her mother’s hands. “Come meet your granddaughter.”
Dixie didn’t stay long. She left, giving them time to work things out together. She didn’t have any illusions that everything would be perfect between them now—and there was still their father to deal with—but it was for Shana to figure out.
She didn’t want to go back to Aggie’s house, even though Gavin was still there, so she sent him a text message saying she was going for a walk and would see him back at her apartment later. She pulled her knit cap over her head, tugged on her gloves and started walking.
At night the town was a wonderland of Christmas lights, but during the day it looked a little desolate, with barren oak trees and dirty snow along the sides of the road. The small storm that had come through a couple of days ago had brought just enough snow to dust everything, but was mostly gone now. She loved winter weather—if she didn’t have to drive anywhere.
Dixie sighed, creating white-frosted air in front of her. All in all, her life was good. She should be happy. She’d known why she wasn’t for the year that she and Joe were apart, but in some ways it was worse this time.
Their new arrangement wasn’t working, at least not for her. Hearing Shana’s tragic love story made Dixie realize she was wasting time on a relationship that wasn’t going anywhere. She wanted to love like Shana had—publicly, with her whole heart, until death do us part.
A car slowed down on the street, keeping pace with her until she finally glanced over at it. Kincaid. He rolled down the passenger window. She leaned close and smiled.
“Need a lift?” he asked.
“I’m good, thanks. Merry Christmas.”
“Same to you. I suppose you’ve been partying with the McCoys.”
She nodded. “And my sister and brother. He’s here for the day.”
“Gavin? I haven’t seen him since graduation.”
Chance City was indeed a small world. “How are you spending your day?”
“At the moment, by taking a drive.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. He looked lonelier than ever.
It was too bad they hadn’t hit it off, she decided. She liked him a lot. “My parents got home last night.”
“Yeah? How’d that go?”
Dixie shook her head. “You’re the only person I know who doesn’t hear all the gossip a minute after it happens.”
“I’m not on anyone’s speed dial, I guess. Is Shana okay?”
Dixie wondered why Shana was so suspicious of Kincaid. He’d been nothing but polite to her. “It wasn’t a good scene last night, but she’s with Mom now. I’m hopeful. And she might be able to line up some work through Denise Falcon’s old business, At Your Service. If that means Shana will stay, I’d be thrilled.”
“That’s great news. Sure I can’t give you a lift? Or take you for a drive? You look like you need a break.”
“Do I? Sorry. I let down my guard with you, I guess.”
“I’m glad. It’s good. Take it easy, okay?”
She waved as he left, then she struck out again. She didn’t know how long she walked, but she ended up in front of Joe’s house. Her house. Theirs. Still no For Sale sign out front.
It hit her hard then—she hadn’t been moving on, something they’d both decided they needed to do, but neither had he. He’d gone away, conducted business, but he hadn’t made the break. He hadn’t even put the house up for sale.
If he wasn’t going to be the one to say goodbye, she needed to.
Dixie hunched her shoulders against a sudden cold
breeze. The air filled with the promise of snow, a smell unlike any other. Within an hour, she guessed.
She heard a car approaching, turned and spotted Joe’s truck heading up the street. Had he been looking for her? He hadn’t stayed long at his mother’s house. Why? Had he gone in search of her?
That had to stop. She knew it without question now.
He pulled into the driveway beside her. “Want to come in?”
Not yet. I don’t want to say goodbye yet.
But she’d made her decision. It’s time. She could hear Nana Mae saying the words.
Dixie nodded. A minute later they were inside the house. Just the two of them.
For one last time.
Chapter Sixteen
Joe recognized right away that Dixie was in an odd mood. At first he thought she was upset about something and was trying to keep it inside. Then he realized she was calm, too calm, something he hadn’t seen in a long time. She’d been running on determination and drive for weeks.
Added to the fact she’d been out walking by herself—and standing in front of their house—put him on alert. He headed to the fireplace to stir it up, avoiding whatever was going to happen next, because it didn’t seem like she wanted to hop in bed.
“Joe.”
Now he knew for sure. Her tone of voice clued him in. She wasn’t here to sleep with him.
“It’s time,” she said.
He didn’t question what it was time for. She was saying goodbye. Something had happened since last night when they’d kissed at her back door and she’d seemed as anxious as he to find a private place. But not now.
Worst of all—she was right. They’d dragged out their goodbye long enough, maybe too long.
“Is it Kincaid?” he asked, needing to know.
“It’s me.”
He nodded, came toward her. Her arms hung loose at her sides. She didn’t cross them to prevent him from getting close or shove her hands in her pockets so that she wouldn’t touch.
“So, this is it,” he said.
“We want different things. Well, we both are looking to achieve success, but in different ways. We need to be free to find them. What we’ve done these past few weeks is kept ourselves in limbo. It’s too hard. There’s no movement. We’re both people who are in motion all the time, whether it’s work or play. Yet we’ve both become static.”
“You’re right. But it doesn’t make it any easier.”
“No.”
He searched her face, saw the pain in her eyes that matched his own. “So, what do we do here, Dix? Have the ceremony we talked about before? Shake hands? Say good luck and see you sometime?”
She looked around the room. “This is a good place to end it, don’t you think? Here, in this house we created out of almost nothing?”
“How about in the bed we shared?” He didn’t think she’d say yes, but he needed to give it a shot. Other dreams had come true, so why not this one?
She nodded. “Yes. Yes, that would be good.”
Joe knew right then he would have to sign the paperwork to sell the house. Too many memories would linger.
With a wistful smile, she took his hand and headed toward the bedroom. Once they reached it, they pulled back the quilt, then faced each other. He felt as much passion for her as he ever had, and yet felt the need to temper it more, afraid his feelings would get in the way.
“Wait,” she said, when he started to pull her sweater over her head. She was shaking, as if it was their first time. “When we’re done, I’m not going to linger. I’m going to get up, get dressed and go. Please don’t follow me to the door.”
“All right.” He undressed her more slowly than any gift he’d ever received, appreciated what was under the wrappings more, too. He found it wasn’t difficult to take things leisurely, even when she undressed him in return, her hands gliding over his body.
Their familiarity with each other meant they not only knew how to arouse, but how to delay satisfaction. She did things with her fingers that had him reaching, then she backed away only to use her mouth instead, stopping just before he hit the point of no return.
He returned the favor, while also memorizing every moment. The weight of her breasts, the texture of her nipples in his mouth, the smooth skin of her abdomen and the slick heat beyond. They teased and tormented in the ways they knew best….
But it had to come to an end. They couldn’t continue much longer, couldn’t hold back forever.
He moved above her. She welcomed him with her body, but her eyes were saying, “Stop. Wait. Not yet.”
He couldn’t wait. They couldn’t wait. She’d been brave enough to make this happen, he needed to see it through.
He pressed into her, savored her warmth, bent to kiss her, deeply, eternally. They found a rhythm together, hit the peak at the same time, held suspended beyond anything that had happened in the past, then he lowered himself to her and burrowed his face in her neck.
The hands of time must have kept moving, but Joe couldn’t measure it. After a while—a short while—she got out of bed and put on her clothes, not looking at him. He didn’t take his eyes off her.
Then she leaned over the bed and kissed him. “Goodbye.”
His throat spasmed. “’Bye.”
He heard the front door shut seconds later. “Have a good life, Dix.”
In a little while he would go find someone to talk to, although he didn’t know who yet. Soon.
But first he needed to grieve.
Dixie didn’t know where to go. She was a helium balloon set free, susceptible to the elements, ready to burst at the slightest impact. She walked without direction, came to a spot overlooking her parking lot. Her mother’s car was still there.
She stood staring at it, getting colder by the second. The snow she’d predicted started falling, blurring her view. Her phone rang, jarring her. Hesitantly she pulled it out of her pocket. It wasn’t Joe.
“Hi, big brother.”
“Why are you standing in the snow?”
“How do you—”
“I’m looking right at you, Dix.”
She saw him then, waving at her from her parking lot. “Are you leaving for home?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Am I?”
She frowned.
“Do you need me?” he asked into her silence.
“Yes.” The word came out like sandpaper along her throat, aching with unshed tears. “Yes. Please.”
“Don’t move. I’ll be right there.”
She couldn’t move anyway. Her feet felt stuck in concrete.
Not half a minute went by before Gavin was there, helping her into the car. He drove off, covering both her clenched hands with one of his.
“Hang on. I’m taking you where no one will drive by.”
She nodded, staring at their hands, swallowing hard. She lifted her head when she felt the car leave the paved road. They bumped along on dirt and rocks, snow falling in big flakes now, pretty but not enough to hinder their drive.
He parked in a grove of evergreen trees, left his engine running and the heater pushing hot air.
“It’s over,” she said. “We’re done.”
“He—”
“No. I did it. I had to.” She looked into her brother’s sympathetic eyes. “But it hurts…so…much.”
He drew her close, wrapped her up and let her cry, not trying to soothe her, not saying anything at all, just being there, her port in the storm of loss.
“We’ve been sleeping together,” she said after a while. “It wasn’t smart, but it was necessary.”
“Then it was smart.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder, pressed a crumpled tissue against her cheeks and smiled shakily.
“Now, tell me what you really think, not what a brother should say to a sister who’s hurting.”
“I think you’re one helluva woman, with a big, tender heart that’s got a crack down the middle. If I could write you a prescription for it, I would. But I d
o know this—time will heal it.”
“So the saying goes. Will scar tissue be a problem?”
“Not for you. You’ll love again, because that’s who you are. And someday you’ll be able to see Joe and it won’t hurt.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
They sat for a while longer, talking and watching the snowflakes drift. “We should probably go before the snow becomes a problem for you driving home,” she said.
He backed out. She looked around, trying to figure out where they were. “Is this where you brought girls to make out when you were in high school?”
“Yeah. Ah, the memories.”
She laughed. It felt good. “Is there no one special in your life now?”
“Do you know how many women won’t date a gynecologist?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
He smiled at her. “You’re feeling better.”
“Yes. Thank you.” She rested her arm across his shoulders. “Is there anything I can do for you? You really can’t talk about the lawsuit?”
“I really can’t. If that changes, I’ll let you know.” He pulled into her parking lot, made her promise to visit him in the city and then drove away.
Her mother’s car was gone.
Dixie climbed the stairs, worn out, wishing she could be alone. Maybe Shana would move back in with their parents.
Wishful thinking.
Dixie found Shana asleep on the couch, Emma curled up with her. Dixie smiled at the picture they made, then she shut the bathroom door and ran a hot bath, adding bubbles.
In some ways she already felt lighter. And starting tomorrow she would be busy again. She would bury herself in work for now. The future would take care of itself.
“Did I wake you?” Joe asked, crouching at his grandmother’s feet. He’d found her dozing in her rocking chair, looking peaceful. He’d come to her hoping to find peace for himself.
She smiled. “It wouldn’t matter if you did,” she told him. “I can sleep anytime. The big holidays tire me out, even as I love them, love seeing everyone.”
