Her Secret Valentine

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Ashley groaned louder. What had she started? “How about the bed?” she teased back.

  He turned and cast a look behind him. “You mean this old thing with the comfy mattress and plenty of room and nice soft flannel sheets?”

  Ashley looked at the king-sized haven with the sleigh bed frame. “Mmm-hmm.” She ran her hand over the velvety mat of ash-blond hair on his chest, appreciating the satiny-smooth skin and rippling muscles beneath.

  “Well, it sounds nice. But what sounds even nicer, once you get over your newfound shyness, is the master bath.” He kissed the nape of her neck, the sensitive area behind her ear. “The master bath is perfect for showering together.”

  Ashley’d had much the same thought. She curled a hand around the swell of his bicep. “Give me another ten days or so and I promise,” she said softly. “We’ll explore the master bath.”

  He teased in a soft low voice that sent thrills coursing over her body, “I’m going to hold you to that, you know.”

  Ashley loved the playful curl of his mouth, the seductive glint in his eyes. “I know.” She rose on tiptoe to give him a sweet kiss to seal the deal.

  Cal sighed his regret as the sultry caress came to a halt. “Unfortunately for both of us, I have to get ready for work. Otherwise, I’d be content to hang out here with you all day.”

  Ashley would’ve liked to stay and make love with Cal all day long, too. A fact that both pleased and bothered her. She was glad she and Cal were feeling so close, and worried that they were once again letting their desire for each other take precedence over all else. Because if they hadn’t made love last night, in the garage and then later, in their bedroom, she was pretty sure she would have found out where her dress and undies had been. Not that this was important. She was sure there was a good explanation for it since Cal was not the type to hide her clothes from her for no good reason.

  Although what that reason could have been…

  Was he attempting to buy her a new dress?

  Had he taken the garments for sizing?

  That at least made sense.

  Aware he was watching her, and that if he didn’t hurry, he would be late for morning rounds at the hospital, she said, “You hit the shower. I’ll make breakfast today.”

  “See you downstairs in ten.” He stripped down to his shorts, tossed them in the hamper, and naked, strode for the bath. Ashley grinned at his retreating backside. There wasn’t an inch of him that wasn’t beautiful, from the width of his powerful shoulders, muscular back and handsome buttocks, to his long, sturdy legs. She had missed seeing him buck-naked, climbing out of her bed. Missed making love with him and being held in his arms all night long. She didn’t ever want to go back to the way it had been, prior to her homecoming.

  And now that they were close to sharing everything—including the heartbreaking secrets that she had shouldered alone for the past two and a half years, as well as the happier secret she was dealing with now—they wouldn’t have to.

  All she had to do was work up the nerve to tell Cal the truth. About everything.

  “SO WHAT IS IT, DR. HART?” Polly Pruett asked anxiously as she scratched at the red bumps appearing on her abdomen.

  Ashley explained as she finished examining her patient, “It’s called a PUPPP rash. Pruritic urticarial papules and plaques of pregnancy. It sometimes appears during pregnancy and then goes away after you deliver your baby. We can give you some topical medicine to put on it and an antihistamine to stop the itching.”

  Polly frowned. “Will that make the rash go away entirely?”

  “Probably not,” Ashley told her sympathetically. “But the meds will make you more comfortable, and the rash is usually limited to the body—it doesn’t appear on the face. What I am more concerned about here, Polly, is the fact you’ve begun to dilate.”

  Polly looked over at her fiancé. Peter Sheridan was standing against the wall, holding the pregnancy manual Polly carried with her everywhere. “How much?”

  Ashley made a notation on Polly’s chart. “Two centimeters.”

  Polly bit her lip. “I could be that way for a couple of weeks, couldn’t I?”

  “Yes,” Ashley told Polly and Peter gently, “but other signs point to you going into labor some time in the next seven days or so.”

  Polly sat up as quickly as she could on the exam table. She fumbled with the sheet across her waist as she wailed, “But I’m supposed to be married in three days!”

  Opposite her, Peter frowned. He looked as unhappy as his fiancée.

  Ashley patted Polly’s shoulder. “Which is why you might want to think about moving the ceremony up a bit,” Ashley suggested.

  “I can’t do that!” Polly looked as if she might burst into tears. “We have two hundred people coming, and a lot of them from out of town! We have to wait until the weekend.”

  Peter moved away from the wall. “Polly—”

  “Don’t even say it.” Polly glared at her fiancé, stubborn as ever. “I am having this wedding according to plan.”

  Peter swallowed and looked at Ashley for help. She wasn’t sure what she could do. Polly and Peter’s baby was going to be born when he was ready, whether Polly or Peter or the two hundred guests they had invited to their wedding liked it or not. Finally, Ashley said, “My husband and I are both planning to be at the Wedding Inn during the ceremony, so if there are any problems, Cal—who is a doctor, too—will be right there.”

  Peter breathed a big sigh of relief. Healthy color came back into his face. “Thanks, Dr. Hart,” he told Ashley soberly.

  “Don’t mention it,” Ashley said. She turned back to Polly. “In the meantime, I want you to be sure and rest as much possible…”

  While Polly got dressed and went out to make her next appointment, Ashley retired to the private office and sank down behind Carlotta’s desk. She returned several calls, then smiled as Carlotta breezed in.

  “Good news,” Carlotta said cheerfully, setting down a stack of medical insurance paperwork she had taken home with her to complete. “Beatrice is back!”

  That was good news, Ashley thought, fully aware how much Carlotta’s family had yearned to have their nanny with them again. But upon closer inspection, Ashley noted, Carlotta didn’t look as if the news were all that good. “So everything is back to normal?” Ashley asked, trying hard not to think about what this might mean to her.

  Carlotta nodded, still looking a tad distracted. She ran a hand through her hair. “I know I’ve imposed enough as it is, but I was wondering if you would consider continuing to help me out through the end of the week, so I could go home at two or so every afternoon and be there when the kids get home from school. It would also give Beatrice a chance to settle back in.”

  “No problem,” Ashley said, glad to continue to be of help. And not just because she owed Carlotta, but because she enjoyed working in the small private practice with her old friend.

  But she also knew, as she packed up and left the office for the day, that she hadn’t done nearly enough looking for a permanent position for herself.

  She could not delay any longer.

  She went to the medical center, and caught the hospital administrator as he was getting ready to leave for the day. “Ashley!” Frank Hodges said. “I was going to call you.”

  “Perhaps we could talk now, then,” Ashley said with a brisk, professional smile. Whatever it was, she wanted to get it over with.

  He ushered her in and closed the door behind them. He waited until both were seated before he continued reluctantly, “I talked to the board of directors. We’re all in agreement we can’t take another obstetrician on staff right now—the medical center doesn’t have the labor and delivery rooms to support such a move. We could use another gynecologist, though. So if you were willing to give up delivering babies and limit your practice until one of the obstetricians on staff leaves or retires, then we would be able to offer you a spot.”

  This, she hadn’t expected.

  Frank
rummaged through the scraps of notepaper on his desk. “I’ve also done some checking with other hospitals in the area. Most are fully staffed with Ob/Gyns at the moment, but Carolina Regional Medical Center has an opening. And they would very much like to talk to you if you’re interested in working there.” He handed her the name and phone number of the person to call.

  Ashley studied the paper, grateful for the lead. And yet…“That’s a good hour’s drive from here.”

  Frank nodded soberly. “Right.”

  Doing her best to contain her disappointment, Ashley got to her feet. “I’m really going to have to think about it. And talk to Cal.”

  “I suspected that would be the case.” Frank stood, shook her hand. “If I can be of further assistance, Ashley,” he finished kindly, “please let me know.”

  ASHLEY KNEW there was something wrong the moment she walked in the door. She could tell by the glum, tense expression on Cal’s face. She put her things down slowly, shrugged out of her coat. “What’s going on?” she asked Cal.

  He pointed to the answering machine on the kitchen counter. “There’s a message for you.”

  Okay. Ashley went over to the telephone and pressed Play.

  An unfamiliar woman’s voice filled the room. “Hello, Ashley. This is Shelley Denova, from Physician Search. We received your résumé and I’m happy to report Yale would very much like to interview you…”

  “You told me you weren’t applying for that job,” Cal said. Once again, he seemed to be watching and weighing everything she did.

  “I’m not, and I didn’t.” Ashley was already picking up the phone. She dialed by memory. Waited several rings.

  Her mother’s voice came on the line. “Margaret Porter.”

  Temper soaring, Ashley said in a clipped, brittle tone, “Hello, Mother.”

  “Ashley!” Margaret sounded delighted to hear from her. Too bad the feeling wasn’t mutual, Ashley thought.

  “I have a bone to pick with you,” Ashley said.

  Margaret paused. When she spoke again, she sounded confused, “And what might that be?”

  Ashley drummed her fingers on the tabletop next to her. “I had a call from Shelley Denova at Physician Search.”

  “Good news, I hope?” Margaret chirped cheerfully.

  Ashley gritted her teeth. She looked over at Cal, ignoring the censuring light in his gray eyes. “I never sent her my résumé.”

  Another pause, shorter this time. “I had my secretary draw one up and send it over.”

  Ashley felt the beginnings of a tension headache. She rubbed at her temples. “Why?” she demanded, aware she was very close to losing it with both her mother and her husband. With Margaret, because she had interfered in Ashley’s life one time too many. And with Cal, because he had thought the worst of her, when all she had wanted was for him to believe in her, believe in them….

  “Because the position was going to be filled before you ever got around to it, that’s why!” Margaret scolded tersely. “Honestly, Ashley, what has gotten into you, anyway? You never used to be so lax.”

  Ashley’s temples throbbed. She sat down and dropped her head into her hands. “Listen to me, Mother. I am not applying for that job. And I am not calling Shelley Denova back.” She spoke slowly, carefully enunciating every word.

  Margaret harrumphed. “It would be very rude if you didn’t. You can’t afford to burn bridges.”

  There was only one Ashley wanted to burn at the moment. “Then you better do something about that, hadn’t you?” Ashley hung up the phone.

  “Whoa,” Cal said, looking impressed.

  “You have no idea.” Ashley was shaking, she was so angry.

  He came toward her, hands out. “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”

  Ashley swept her hands through her hair, encountered a clip, and then just took her hair down. She realized she had a choice here, stay angry with Cal and vent her feelings on him, too. Or let it go. Move on. She found she wanted to do the latter. “It’s all right,” she told him wearily, forgiveness pouring through her. She shook her head, took a deep bolstering breath. “If the situation had been reversed, and I had come home and heard a message like that on the machine, I am sure I would have wondered what in the heck was going on, too.” She tightened her lips together ruefully. As long as they were on the subject, she figured she might as well tell him the rest of it. “Not that I’m exactly flooded with offers right now, in any case.”

  Cal blinked. “What do you mean?”

  He stepped behind her to massage the tense muscles of her shoulders. His fingers were like magic, bringing warmth and welcome relief.

  Ashley swallowed, wishing she had better info to relate. “I talked to the hospital administrator in Holly Springs today.” Briefly, Ashley explained the situation.

  Cal got another chair from the kitchen table and moved it, so they were sitting knee to knee. “Are you going to apply for the job at Carolina Regional?” He looked into her eyes.

  Ashley shrugged, her feelings all over the map. Restless, she stood and began to pace the confines of the kitchen, talking anxiously all the while. “If I were to get a job as an Ob/Gyn there, I would have to live within fifteen or twenty minutes of the hospital.” She paused to regard Cal practically. “At least during the nights that I was on call. And since you have to do the same here, it would mean we would be apart again, at least four days a week, maybe more.”

  Cal looked about as enthused as she felt about that prospect. Which, oddly enough, made Ashley feel better.

  She didn’t want him pushing her away again, telling her they had to toughen up and make these sacrifices for their careers, and put their relationship, their marriage, second at every turn.

  “Anyway,” Ashley continued softly, beginning to pace again, “I was thinking on the drive home. Maybe the thing to do is take the Gyn position at Holly Springs now, and just wait for an Ob/Gyn slot to open up. It wouldn’t be all that long. And we wouldn’t have to move or be apart.” She paused, searching his face, aware her heart was racing as she tried—without much success—to decipher his non-reaction. “What do you think?”

  “I think I’d be happy,” Cal said carefully after a moment, looking as if he too were afraid to put his heart all the way out there, lest it get stomped on. He stood and walked to her side. “But,” he asked gruffly, “what about you, Ash? What about your needs, wants, desires?”

  Ashley swallowed hard and went into his arms. “All I need is you, Cal.” She buried her face in his shoulder and hugged him fiercely. But even as she spoke the words, she wasn’t quite sure she believed it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “We know you want this to be a big surprise for Ashley, but we’re all really nervous about just presenting Ashley with a gown she has never tried on,” Janey told Cal during the impromptu family conference at the Wedding Inn.

  Emma agreed. “I plan a lot of weddings, Cal. The most important thing to most brides—even those like Ashley who are simply going to be renewing their vows—is their dress. And since you want Ashley to have a new gown, I really think we need her input on which one she wears.”

  “How are you going to do that without ruining the surprise?” Cal asked.

  His mother patted him on the arm. “We’ve got an excellent plan,” Helen reassured him with a smile. “All you have to do is make sure that Ashley arrives at the Wedding Inn on Saturday morning, along with the rest of the Hart women.”

  “They want me to model wedding dresses for a photographer?” Ashley asked Cal later that evening, as the two of them prepared dinner together.

  She had been doing yoga when he came home and was still clad in a leotard, tights, socks, and an oversized T-shirt that kept slipping off one shoulder.

  Cal nodded, glad the event he was pitching to Ashley was also completely on the level. He didn’t think he could lie to her. Even for a good cause. “A lot of the brides who come to the Wedding Inn—especially the older ones—don’t want to try on dozen
s and dozens of dresses. But it’s hard to tell on the hanger what a dress is going to look like on an actual model. So my mother and Emma had this idea that you and Lily and Janey and Hannah could all try on half a dozen dresses on Saturday. Mom has arranged to have a seamstress there to pin the gowns so they will look as though they are perfectly fitted, and a photographer will take pictures of all angles of the dresses. Mom and Emma will compile the photos in an album and then when prospective brides come in—especially busy career women like yourselves—and want to cut to the chase they can flip through the books and pick out the ones they want to try on.”

  To Cal’s relief, Ashley looked amenable to the idea. “They ought to do the same for tuxes.” She brought out the makings for a salad while he grilled turkey cutlets on the stove.

  Cal flushed, beginning to feel a little guilty at the depth of the deception, despite the necessity of the subterfuge. “They are. My brothers and I have all been roped into doing the same thing on the same day.” He went to the fridge to get out the Asian cooking sauce. “So, will you participate?” He poured a little sauce on each cutlet, straight from the bottle, then spread it to the edges with a basting brush. “It will mean a lot to my family if you do.”

  Ashley had a tendency to feel overwhelmed when surrounded by too many Harts at once. But this sounded like fun. Except for one thing. She hesitated, aware she was going to have to be very careful not to let on to the other women what was going on with her. “Ah…they know I’m just getting back in shape after a period of not working out at all?” she said, thinking of her thickening waist and swelling centerfold breasts.

  Cal flashed her an exasperated look. “That’s the whole point, Ashley. All of you are gorgeous and accomplished grown women, not anorexic teenagers made up to look like adults.”

  Well, put that way… “Okay, then,” Ashley said, going over to kiss Cal on the cheek. When he took her in his arms, she made it a full kiss on the lips, tender and sweet. She was trembling when they drew apart. She rubbed her thumb across his cheek and looked into his eyes. “I’ll be happy to help out.” She was pleased to have been asked.