Puppy Love in Thunder Canyon

by Christyne Butler

  And yes, he did seem intently focused on Maurice when he’d left, but she was smart enough to pick up that a small part of him was relieved to be out of the line of fire where her family was concern.

  Not that she blamed him, because despite how easily the subject matter had changed from the two of them to something else once he’d left, she had to put up with the “I told you so” look and a few underhanded remarks from her mother about what life would be like married to a doctor.

  Not that any of that excused him from not calling and letting her know about Maurice.

  Confusion swamped her as she entered his office area, surprised to find both Marge’s desk and Thomas’s inner office empty. From the half-empty mug of coffee and paperwork scattered across his desk, she could tell he’d arrived already, he just wasn’t here.

  She checked her watch again and then grabbed a small pad of paper, determined to leave him a quick note. Three tries, three crumpled balls of paper later and she still didn’t know what to say.

  Why didn’t you call?

  I miss you.

  When will we see each other again?

  Oh, all of those openings seemed so…so…desperate? And Annabel didn’t want him to think of her that way.

  Yes, she was in love.

  Yes, he was the one for her.

  Two amazing and wonderful facts she’d carried in her heart since the first time they’d made love. But she wanted Thomas to come to those same conclusions on his own, in his own way and time.

  Deciding it was best to just call his office later and speak to him in person, she tossed the pad back onto Thomas’s desk and headed for the doorway when voices from the outer office stopped her.

  “And who would’ve thought the guy had enough time on his hands to steal my wife.”

  What?

  Annabel’s hand stilled on the door knob. Instead of moving to the other side of the door, she stood there, frozen.

  “I mean, we’ve only been married a year,” the man continued. “Aren’t we supposed to still be in some damn honeymoon phase?”

  “That’s rough. Sorry you’re going through all that.”

  Okay, that voice she recognized as Thomas’s. The other man must be a friend of his.

  “You know, people warned me about getting married during my residency, but we’d been together since college. I loved her. I thought she loved me,” the friend went on. “Then I find out she’s been spending time with some hot-shot lawyer while I’m busting my ass working long shifts here.” The man sighed. “Sorry I’m unloading my problems on you.”

  Annabel’s heart ached for the poor guy’s obvious pain over his wife’s infidelity. She should make her presence known, but the last thing she wanted was to embarrass the man, or Thomas. Better to step back and give them as much privacy as—

  “I understand it’s tough, but you can’t let your personal life get in the way of your work here. That minor slip you had earlier with your patient could have become a major issue, if you hadn’t caught it in time.” Thomas’s voice was low, but strong and filled with certainty. “Love and medicine don’t mix. I found that out the hard way.”

  His last statements stunned her and Annabel found it impossible to move.

  “Look, I’m the last person who should give out advice on something like this,” Thomas continued.

  “No, please,” his friend pushed. “I want your opinion.”

  Silence filled the air for a long moment and Annabel found herself holding her breath waiting to see how Thomas would respond.

  “I’ve learned that being one hundred percent committed to your career is a prerequisite for our profession. Anything less and people’s lives are at stake,” he finally said. “Some can find a balance between a personal life and a professional one, some can’t. You need to find out which group you belong to.”

  “Have you figured that out yet?”

  She pressed a hand to her mouth to stop herself from blurting out how wrong he was, how finding a balance was a part of being in love no matter what someone’s line of work. Annabel closed her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for Thomas to answer.

  “All I know is you have to weigh the facts against the evidence. In my experience, trusting in love is crazy and I— Ah, hello, Marge.”

  Thomas cut off his words as his secretary arrived, ending the men’s discussion. Turning away, Annabel walked to the windows, brushing away the tears before they could fall. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, suddenly very cold despite the suit jacket she wore.

  Wishing a hole in the floor would open up and swallow her would do no good. All she could do was wait and—what?

  Hope that Thomas and Marge left again so she could sneak out unseen? Where would that leave her?

  Still waiting for Thomas to come to her?

  No, what she needed was to make a few things clear to him. At least one thing in particular. She knew what was in her heart and now seemed like the perfect time to share—

  “Annabel?”

  She whirled around.

  “What are you—” Thomas stood in his doorway, shock on his face. He quickly glanced back out at the outer office before closing the door behind him. “How long have you been in here?”

  “Long enough. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” She waved one hand toward his desk. “I stopped by to see you, but you were gone. I was going to leave a note. Then I heard… I didn’t want to interrupt a private conversation.”

  “So you just listened instead?”

  “It was pretty hard not to. Oh, Thomas, I can’t believe you really feel that way about love.”

  He moved to the other side of his desk, his attention on the paperwork in his hand. “Now is not the time to talk about this.”

  “I think this is the perfect time.” Annabel reached deep inside for that certainty she’d been so sure of just a moment ago. “Thomas, I—”

  “I’m guessing you came here to check on Maurice,” he interrupted her. “I didn’t call you last night because it was late when I finally got home. Actually it was very early this morning.” Thomas dropped the folder to his desk. “I can’t go into any detail about my patient’s care—”

  “I know he’s in intensive care and I know I have you to thank for allowing me to see him.” Annabel waved off his explanation, determined not to let him pull away from what they really needed to talk about. “Thank you for that. I’m sure you and the rest of the staff are doing all you can for him.”

  His gaze remained focused on his desk. “Yes, we are.”

  Annabel remained silent, but when he didn’t say anything more, she purposely walked to him, invading his personal space as she slid between him and his desk.

  He tried to step back, pushing his chair to one side, but the credenza behind him stopped him.

  “Do you really believe it’s crazy to trust in love?”

  Thomas purposely kept his gaze away from her. “Annabel…”

  “I don’t, and do you want to know why?” She placed her fingertips at his jaw and gently forced him to look at her. “Because I love you, Thomas.”

  He closed his eyes and pressed his mouth into a hard line before he spoke. “No, you don’t.”

  Yes, she did. Saying the words aloud for the first time made her even more certain of her feelings for this man.

  “Yes, I do.”

  He opened his eyes again, the glacial chill in their blue depths surprising her. “You can�
�t know that.”

  “Of course I can and I wanted you to know.” Undeterred, she dropped her hand to his chest, the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingers reminding her of those nights when he’d held her close. “This may seem a bit sudden considering—”

  “Sudden?” Thomas turned away from her, moving out from behind his desk. “Yes, I would say so. We’ve only known each other a couple of weeks.”

  “I’m sure of my feelings, Thomas, but knowing that I love you doesn’t mean I have the future all planned out.” Pushing aside the panic that the distance he was putting between them was more than physical, Annabel followed him. “Goodness knows, I’m very much a live-in-the-moment kind of person, but what I’m certain of is that I want you in every one of those moments.”

  “After such a short period of time?” The disbelief was evident in his voice as he crossed his office; this time he was the one staring out the windows. “How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know how.” She wanted to reach out, to make him turn and look at her, but the stiffness of his posture held her back. “I just know that what we have is special and worth all the craziness that might come our way as we muddle through this.”

  “Worth it to whom? My patients? I can’t allow my personal life to get in the way. To distract me from…” Thomas’s voice trailed off as he pinched the bridge of his nose hard and sighed.

  “Is that what you think?” Annabel quickly connected the dots. “That because you and I have been spending time together over the past few days you missed something in Maurice’s treatment—”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think.” Thomas spun around. “What I rely on are facts, while you place all of your trust in your feelings.”

  “Yes, I guess I do. And from what I overheard, you’ve been hurt in the past, but please don’t let that affect what’s happening now between us. You must know what we have is wonderful…”

  “What I know is that I have a lot of work to do.” Thomas’s gaze traveled the length of her. “And you look like you’re on your way to an important meeting.”

  Annabel glanced down at her business suit. “Yes,” she finally admitted. “I need to get to the library.”

  “Well, please don’t let me keep you.”

  The distance on his face spoke volumes at how far apart they were despite standing right in front of each other. For the first time, the words wouldn’t come and Annabel had no idea how to reach him.

  “I’m free tonight.” She pushed the invitation past her lips, already knowing deep inside the reception her words would receive. “If you want to get together?”

  “I’ll probably be working late again.” Thomas grabbed a white medical coat off a nearby hook. Sliding it over his shoulders, he pulled it on like a suit of body armor, leaving Annabel standing there alone and defenseless.

  “Thomas, I—”

  “Annabel, please.” He started to reach for her, but curled his fingers into a tight fist and jammed it into his pocket. “I can’t talk about this right now, and I really need to get back to work.”

  Pressing her palm hard against her chest as if she could actually stop her heart from breaking, Annabel could only nod before she turned and walked away, certain that this time he wouldn’t be coming after her.

  Chapter Twelve

  It amazed Thomas how much life could change in a mere seventy-two hours.

  On Monday morning he had no clue as to the reason for Maurice Owens’s seizures. Today the man was scheduled to be released from intensive care. They’d finally determined a blood infection was the source of the problems. After a heavy dose of IV antibiotics, the man now fully awake, alert and, according to his nurses, asking when that rag mop of a dog and his pretty owner were coming back to see him.

  Annabel and Smiley.

  Thomas’s fist tightened on the bag he carried as he crossed the parking lot and headed inside the hospital.

  Yeah, life had certainly changed since that Monday morning when he’d done the one thing he’d wanted to avoid from the moment he’d met Annabel.

  Hurt her.

  After he’d made it clear he didn’t believe her declaration, the pain and disappointment in her eyes before she’d turned and walked out of his office had filled him with such remorse he’d actually started after her. Then common sense took over. Even so, stopping himself from chasing after her had taken every ounce of strength he had.

  Let her go. Let her go. Let her go.

  The words had echoed in his head, a resounding anthem that told him he’d done the right thing.

  He hadn’t seen her since.

  His daily rounds and Maurice’s unstable condition had kept him occupied for the next twenty-four hours until his boss ordered him to go home and not return until he’d gotten some much-needed rest. He’d obeyed and fell into a dreamless sleep for over fifteen hours, woke long enough to choke down some food, check in with Marge and then slept again.

  But this time he’d dreamed of Annabel.

  Her looking at him smiling and happy, her beautiful blue eyes filled with joy as she chatted about her work at the library, the therapy dog program, her family.

  But then the joy faded, replaced with the same bewilderment and hurt that he’d put there as she faded farther and farther from his outstretched hands until she disappeared in swirling mist….

  He’d shot awake, drenched in sweat and tangled in the sheets of his empty bed, his heart pounding in his chest. The urge to call her, to hear her voice, had been so powerful he’d grabbed his phone and held it in a grip so tight his knuckles ached.

  But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t put her through that again.

  She’d laid her heart in his hands, and he’d all but thrown it back at her. He hadn’t believed her when she poured out her feelings about how she felt about him, about them.

  He couldn’t do it because he hadn’t changed his mind.

  No matter how hollow and empty he might feel at the moment, making the choice of his patients over a personal life had been the right one.

  He meant what he’d said to the young resident on his staff. Some in their profession managed to balance both a career and a life outside of the hospital, but others, the majority, tried and failed.

  The consequences could be much worse than a broken heart.

  He couldn’t take that chance.

  After his shower this morning, he’d dressed and started to leave his bedroom when the quilt Annabel had given him caught his attention.

  He’d reached for it, ignoring how his fingers shook as he grabbed the soft material. Marching downstairs and into the kitchen, he quickly stuffed the blanket into a paper sack.

  Returning the gift was a necessity for the both of them.

  Annabel had her Thursday session with Smiley this afternoon at the hospital. He was certain she would be there, just like she’d been every day this week visiting with Maurice, her name scrawled on the visitors’ log in her loopy handwriting, which made his chest hurt every time he saw it.

  He didn’t have any idea what he was going to say when he came face-to-face with her, but he would think of something over the next six hours.

  Even if it was only goodbye.

  Exiting the elevator, he walked down the hall to his office and had to swallow the hard lump in his throat before he greeted Marge, who sat at her desk, the phone receiver in her hand.

  “Morning, Marge.”

  “Oh, Dr. North.” She looked up at him, surprise in her eyes. “I’m glad you’re here. I was just about to page you.”

  He disregarded the natural quickening of his pulse. “What is it?”

  “Mr
. Owens is being a bit cantankerous this morning.” She placed the receiver back in its cradle. “The head nurse in ICU just called to say he’s insisting on seeing you before they move him.”

  Thomas dropped his briefcase and the bag into the closest chair. “I’ll go right now. Can you please put these in my office?”

  “That’s quite a big lunch you’re brown bagging today.”

  Turning to grab some much-needed coffee, he snapped a lid on the disposable cup and kept his gaze from returning to the bag. “That’s not food.”

  “Is it something I can take care of for you?”

  For a split second Thomas almost agreed to Marge’s request. He could easily ask her to take it down to the session or even mail it to Annabel at her home, but he quickly squashed the idea. “No.”

  He softened his tone when the woman offered him a raised eyebrow. “Thank you, but that’s something…it’s something I need to handle on my own.”

  Three hours later Thomas returned to his office.

  He’d gone ahead and completed his morning rounds after making sure Maurice was settled in his new room, which wasn’t the same one he’d been in before. A fact the elderly man found very unsettling until Thomas had promised him the staff would make sure the new room number was available for anyone who asked for it.

  Anyone meaning Annabel.

  He hated to admit it, but he’d been disappointed to find out she hadn’t made it in yet to see Maurice this morning unlike the past two days when she’d come by during the early visiting hours.

  Another reason Maurice had been upset.

  Thomas met up with Marge in the hallway just as she was leaving. “On your way out for lunch?”

  “Yes, I need to pick up my cats from the vet.” She pulled her keys from her purse. “They went in this morning for their checkups and the poor things hate it there. I want to get them home as soon as possible.”

  He peeked at her desk, noting the bag and his briefcase were gone, but he asked anyway, gesturing toward the still-closed door to his inner office. “Did you put my things inside?”