ETHAN WAS RIGHT about one thing. It was a long night.
“This is the first time I’ve been in a hospital waiting for news.” He leaned his head back against the wall.
Harriet knew he was exhausted. She also knew there was no point in telling him to leave. The same inner drive that had made him agree to take his sister’s dog, wouldn’t allow him to leave his injured colleague.
The sandwiches she’d made were gone. So was the coffee. She wished now that she’d brought a second flask.
She delved into her bag and handed him a carefully wrapped packet.
“What’s this? Don’t tell me you brought dessert?”
“In a way. They’re my specialty. Chocolate chip cookies. Eat them quickly. Men have been known to fight over them.”
“Yeah? Give me an example.”
“Two years ago at the bake sale near my grandmother’s. William Duggart and Barney Townsend almost came to blows over the last one on sale. Tensions were high. William said he’d marry me if I cooked them for him for the rest of his life.”
“And how old is he?”
“Eighty-six. Which, now I think about it, wasn’t so different from the last man I dated.”
“Unless there’s something you need to tell me about how you spent your day, I’m the last man you dated.” He took a bite of cookie. “Okay, this is good. Seriously good. I can see why William was prepared to marry you. These are enough to make any man contemplate giving up his single status.”
Except him.
She pushed the thought away. “Anything to cheer up this horrible place. I don’t know how you work here every day.”
“Normally I’m on the other end of the stress. It’s different.”
Maybe. But did that make it easier? She wasn’t convinced. “I’ve only been in a hospital a few times in my life.”
He glanced at her. “I presume one of those times was when you injured your ankle. What happened those other times?”
“My father had a heart attack. The first one was about five years ago, and then he had another one the year after that. Fliss and I were at home when we got the call that first time. He refused to see Daniel because he blamed him for the fact that Mom eventually divorced him. He refused to see Fliss too.”
“But you went to see him.”
“Crazy, I know. I kept thinking maybe he’d have an epiphany and suddenly realize he loved me. He didn’t.” She paused, surprised at herself. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
“It’s the ambience.” He gestured toward the stark corridor. “There’s something about a drafty hospital corridor that encourages confidences.”
“That must be it.” That, and the fact that he was so easy to talk to.
“Sounds like you spent most of your childhood trying to please him.”
“I did. I couldn’t quite ‘get’ that nothing I did was ever going to please him. I annoyed him. Irritated him. And he wasn’t afraid to show it. The worst time was when I had to recite a poem at school. I’d rehearsed and rehearsed. Fliss and Daniel helped me. I did it over and over again with not a single stammer. I was so proud of myself. And excited. At school I was always—” She hesitated. “I was teased for my stammer.”
“You mean you were bullied.” His tone was flat.
“Yes. I didn’t have much confidence, so the fact that I could recite this poem—I saw it as an opportunity to show everyone I could do it without stammering. I imagined the applause. The smiles. My life changing overnight. No more accidentally bumping into me in the lunch line and knocking the contents of my tray everywhere. No more frogs in my locker.”
Two nurses appeared, talking as they walked.
Ethan waited until they’d passed and the sound of footsteps had receded.
“Frogs in your locker?”
“They didn’t worry me. I like animals. But I was worried about the frogs.”
“Teasing—bullying—can make dysfluency worse so I’m guessing none of that helped. Tell me about the poem. I’m guessing things didn’t go the way they were supposed to.”
“I walked onstage, all fired up and ready to impress—”
“And?”
“And my father was right there in the front row. Fliss and Daniel were next to him looking furious and my mother had obviously been crying. We were one big happy family.”
“I’m assuming he didn’t turn up to support you.”
“No. He never came to school events. He turned up that night because he was the biggest bully of them all.” She breathed out slowly. “What he did confirmed it, although it took me years to admit that to myself. Years to admit that he didn’t love me at all. It just didn’t seem right or natural.” She felt Ethan’s fingers close over hers.
“This is one story where I’m not sure I even want to hear the ending.”
“The ending is very predictable. I saw him, turned to stone, couldn’t move a muscle and certainly not my vocal cords. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Daniel trying to catch my attention, trying to encourage me to look at him and not our father, but I couldn’t look away. And then I decided this was the perfect time to finally make him proud. If I could recite this poem, then he’d finally love me.”
“But by then you were too stressed to get a word out.”
“Too stressed to say a whole word, that’s true. I managed to repeat the first letter a few times and I was so mortified by all the giggling from the audience all the fight went out of me. Pathetic, I know.” She hated thinking about it. Even now, years later, she wished she could turn back the clock. She would have stayed on the stage and stammered her way through the whole damn thing.
“Not pathetic at all. You were—how old?”
“Can’t remember exactly. Eleven or twelve? And I made it about me. All of it. His behavior. The fact he didn’t love me. All about me. And the truth is that none of it was about me. It was never about me.” She drew in a little breath. “Took me years to realize that.”
There was a long pause.
“Eleven.” Ethan stretched out his legs. “I don’t remember much about being eleven, but I remember being thirteen and I guess it’s not much different. It was all about not making a fool of yourself. You think the whole world is looking at you and thinking about you and you’re scared they’re going to know what a mess you are inside.”
“You felt that way?” She found it hard to imagine.
“All kids feel that way. Some hide it better than others, that’s all. And it takes maturity to realize most people are so busy thinking about themselves that they don’t give a damn about what you’re doing.”
“Well, people did look at me. When having a conversation takes an extra five minutes, people tend to notice. And they’re not kind.”
“So what happened?”
“I stammered, died inside and fled from the stage. We all went home and Fliss was so furious she flew at him with a skillet. I swear she would have killed him if Daniel hadn’t dragged her away. It was hideous.”
“Sounds like it. I’m glad you had your twin and your brother.”
“Yes. It made us closer. In a way we formed a little family of our own. And we’ve stayed close.”
“I’m starting to understand what a big deal it must have been for you when your sister moved away.”
“It’s been a life change, that’s for sure. I guess I got lazy. I stopped doing some things—tough things—for myself because Fliss and Daniel would always do it for me, and they probably did it better. If we had an awkward client it was better for Fliss to deal with it than me. I was always scared that if someone was aggressive, it would bring back my stammer.”
“And then you met me, and your worst nightmares came true.”
He was more dream than nightmare but she didn’t say that. “It was good for me. My worst scenario happened. I survived. I got through it. And I got through it without calling my twin.” She was proud of that. “Not calling Fliss was almost as big a challenge.”
“Because you’re used to talking to her about everything.”
“Yes, and then she worries and tries to protect me. Which is great, except that I would rather protect myself. And maybe I’m not going to do it in the same way she does—”
“Beaning someone with a skillet, you mean?”
She smiled. “Her methods do tend to be physical, that’s true.”
He leaned his head back against the wall. “We see it here too. Abuse. Not always easy to spot. Even harder to do something about, but we try. That night you came in—”
“You thought I’d been abused.”
He turned his head to look at her, his gaze direct and unsettling. “It crossed my mind. You had a vulnerable quality—I don’t know how to describe it.”
“That’s how I look when I try and wear stilettos.” She turned it into a joke. “When you can’t balance, you’re vulnerable.”
A smile touched the edges of his mouth. “You’re an impressive person, Harriet Knight.”
Her heart beat a little harder. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen me trying to climb out of that window.”
He was about to say something when a woman strode toward them wearing scrubs.
Ethan was on his feet instantly. “How is she?”
Harriet stood up too, but stayed back a little, not wanting to intrude. She overheard some of it—lower grade rupture of the spleen, hematologic parameters, splenic preservation, arterial intervention—none of it made sense to her, and all of it sounded horrendous but Ethan seemed relieved, so perhaps it wasn’t as bad as it sounded.
He ran his hand over his face. “Can I see her?”
“Sure. But keep it brief.”
Harriet was about to sit back down on the chair to wait when he grabbed her hand.
“You should come too. She’d like that. You can promise her a bowl of your chicken soup.”
Susan was in recovery and although she seemed groggy, her eyes were open. She saw Ethan and managed something close to a smile.
“Jeez, you still here? What time is it?”
“Middle of the night. I thought I’d hang around.”
Susan’s gaze slid to Harriet. “But you got yourself some company.” Her eyes closed. “Did you tell her, Black?”
“Did I tell her what?”
“About your promise.”
“I don’t remember a promise. The anesthetic must have affected your memory.”
“You break your promise, I’m going to come back and haunt you.”
“You have to die first, and there is no way you’re dying. I need you back here.”
“I’m not sure that’s an incentive to recover. A bowl of Harriet’s soup might.”
Harriet stepped forward. “As soon as you’re on the ward and eating, I’ll bring you some.”
“You’re an angel.” Her eyes opened. “Do you hear that, Black? She’s an angel.”
“You need to rest.”
“And you need to go home.” She stretched her hand out to him and he took it. “Thanks, Ethan.”
“That’s the first time you’ve ever called me by name.”
“It’s the first time you’ve ever saved my life.”
“Given that you’re lying there, I didn’t do such a great job.”
“We both know that without you, I’d be dead.” Her eyes closed again. “Go home. Get some sleep. But come back tomorrow. With Harriet. And soup. And don’t forget your promise.”
“What is this promise she keeps talking about?” Harriet asked as they walked out of the hospital into the freezing night.
“She wants to be godmother to my children.”
“But you don’t have—ah.” Understanding dawned. “She wants you to have children. Is she in league with your sister?”
“They’ve never met, but they seem to be on the same wavelength. Susan seems to want me to have it all. No idea why. Ironic, coming from a loner like her.”
“Not married then?”
He hesitated. “She was married. Eight years ago her husband was killed by a drunk driver while he was walking their son home from kindergarten. The car mounted the sidewalk. Their little boy was killed too.”
The emotion was like a punch to her chest. “Oh, that’s terrible.”
“Yes. And so is drinking and then getting behind the wheel of a car.”
“How do you ever get over something like that?”
“You don’t. If you’re lucky you learn to live alongside it. You find ways to keep going. Susan’s way was to throw herself into work. I guess she feels that although she couldn’t save her own family, she might be able to save someone else’s.”
“But she’s never married again. She lives alone?”
“She has an apartment near mine.”
“What is she doing for Christmas?”
He frowned. “I have no idea. Why?”
“I just wondered, that’s all.” Harriet paused as they reached a set of lights. “Do you want to come home with me?”
“Now? It’s already almost four in the morning.”
“My place is closer. And I can make you breakfast.”
“Now that’s an offer I can’t refuse.” He pulled her into his arms. “Thanks for coming tonight. I’m glad you did.”
“Me too.”
SUSAN MADE A remarkably swift recovery.
Three days after her surgery she was dressed and walking around her room.
“Are you sure you’re supposed to be expending so much energy?” Harriet watched her doubtfully. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“I can rest when I’m dead. Which I almost was, so I guess I already rested. Is that chicken soup?” She gazed hopefully at the container Harriet was lifting carefully out of the bag.
“It is. I added a touch of cream to give you extra calories. You’ll probably lecture me about the health of your arteries.”
“My arteries have never been happier, thank you.” Susan took the container from her, sat down and started to eat. “I never knew food could even taste this good. If Ethan doesn’t marry you, I will.”
Harriet almost dropped the rest of the food. She was relieved Ethan wasn’t here. “Ethan isn’t going to marry anyone ever again.”
“That’s what he says.”
“And you don’t believe him.” She probably should have stayed silent but the temptation to talk about him was too great.
“I don’t think he knows what’s good for him. I think working here has screwed him up some. It happens. And he’s divorced. Ethan is big on responsibility. If you’ve been hanging around with him, you probably already know that. It’s the reason he says yes to looking after his sister’s dog even though it totally disrupts his life. It’s the reason he steps in front of a crazy drunk with a knife and sits half the night in a drafty corridor waiting for news about a colleague. He holds himself to high standards. And he likes to take care of everybody. From what I’ve heard, it’s in the genes. Rock solid family. Community people who would give you the shirt from their back. Remember that and you’ll understand why he thinks he failed at marriage. Blames himself, although I can tell you now that Alison would say she was more than half to blame and if ever two people were wrong for each other, it’s those two. Now you—that’s a different ball game.”
Harriet was about to ask how she knew Alison when she remembered that it was Ethan’s ex-wife who had been part of the live “fly on the wall” documentary set in the ER.
“How is it a different ball game?”
“He’s been different since he met you.”
Harriet’s heart bumped a little harder. She wasn’t going to read anything into that. “Different in what way?”
“More approachable. More human.”
“If Alison wasn’t right for him, why did he marry her?”
“Now that’s a question I can’t answer, but if I had to guess I’d say he didn’t think about it too deeply. She rocked up here one day with her blond hair and there’s Ethan, all shoulders and muscle in his scrubs, saving a kid. She was gone. I saw it happen. What they should have done was screwed each other’s brains out and then waved each other goodbye, but for some reason he put a ring on her finger.” She stared sadly into the empty soup container. “Is this hard to make? Could an idiot cook make it? When they send me home, I want to be able to make this.”
“I’ll fill your freezer,” Harriet promised, topping up her soup. “When are they sending you out?”
“Tomorrow if I get my way.” Susan finished the soup and sat back.
“Do you like chocolate chip cookies?”
“What sort of a question is that? Who the hell doesn’t like chocolate chip cookies?”
Harriet grinned and handed over a small box tied with a bow. “They’re my specialty.”
Susan took a bite and closed her eyes. “Man, how are you ever single?”
“I ask myself that question regularly but haven’t yet come up with an answer.”
“Obviously all the men in your life are batshit crazy. You ever make those fancy cupcake things? Covered in swirly icing that’s basically all sugar and calories?”
“I make great cupcakes. I’ll add a batch to the list of things I’m leaving in your apartment.”
“I’ve got a better idea—” Susan brushed crumbs from her mouth “—come and live, then you can cook for me on-site. You are too good at this to be living alone.”
Harriet put the empty soup container back in her bag. An idea had been growing in her mind. “What are you doing for Christmas?”
Susan slumped back against the pillows. “I was working, but now I guess I’m not. Damn. And I wanted to be at work. This place is one big party over the holidays. I hate to miss it.” Her tone was sarcastic, but Harriet knew she was speaking the truth. She would rather have been at work, presumably because being at work stopped her thinking about family. The family she’d lost. It must be the worst time of year for her.
“Will you join me? I’m having a few people over.”
“I appreciate the offer, but it’s not my best time of year.” Susan’s voice was rough. “Ethan told you my sad tale?”
“Yes. And I’m so sorry.” The words felt woefully inadequate, but what was the right thing to say to someone who had lost everything that mattered to them? There were no right words.
“I appreciate the invitation, but I’m not good company.”
“You don’t have to sing and dance. Come and sit on the sofa and let me feed you.”
Susan eyed her. “Christmas is family time. Why aren’t you going home to spend it with your mom and dad?”
“They divorced years ago. My mom is traveling and my dad—we’re not in touch.” She was surprised by how easily she said it. “He doesn’t speak to me. I’m close to my sister and brother, but this year I decided I wanted to spend Christmas by myself.” She paused and then on impulse told Susan about Challenge Harriet, starting from the beginning and not stopping until she’d reached the end.
“So you’re doing something you find hard every day? Jeez, that’s—” Susan stared at her and Harriet shrugged.
“Stupid?”
“I was going to say inspirational. Maybe I will join you. Not staying in bed on Christmas Day could be my first Challenge Susan.”
“If you have other friends you’d rather go to, don’t worry,” Harriet said quickly, “don’t feel pressure.”
“Most of my friends gave up on me a long time ago. My fault, not theirs. Work was my therapy. I didn’t want sympathy or pitying glances. Eventually they gave up.”
What sort of person gave up on a friend who’d suffered such an extreme blow? “In that case, I hope you’ll come to me.”
Susan stared at her for a moment and then grinned. “Hey, I’m going to be godmother to your children. That makes me as good as family, so maybe I will.”
Harriet gave a start, remembering what Ethan had said. “Godmother?”
“Sure. He made me a deathbed promise.”
“You’re alive.”
“Barely. I’d love to spend Christmas with you. All I need is your address. And I’ll wear my loose trousers because if you’re going to cook like this I’m going to need room for expansion.”
ETHAN LAY SPRAWLED on Harriet’s sofa, watching as she bottle-fed kittens.
“I hate to break this to you, but your badass credentials are taking a serious blow.”
She nestled the kitten closer. “Just because I can bottle-feed a kitten, doesn’t mean I can’t be a bad girl.”
“Not convinced. You’d better take me back to bed and prove it.”
Instead, she carefully placed one of the kittens in his lap and handed him a bottle. “Stop talking and get to work.”
Ethan felt the warmth of the tiny kitten through his jeans. “I don’t know anything about feeding kittens.”
“You didn’t know anything about dogs, either, but Madi was pretty fond of you by the end.”
“Because you were supervising.” He pushed the bottle toward the kitten, who immediately latched on.
“Tilt it a little more.” Harriet’s hand covered his, moving it into position. “She’s swallowing air.”
She returned to the other kitten, scooping it up with the ease of experience and settling it carefully in her lap.
She was gentle, kind and attentive and Ethan couldn’t work out for the life of him how her father could possibly not have loved her.
What sort of guy couldn’t love a woman like Harriet? She didn’t have a mean bone in her body. Whatever had been wrong with his marriage, there was no reason at all to take it out on his daughter.
Another person might have grown up bitter. Might have spent their lives protecting themselves.
Not Harriet. She was the most generous, giving person he’d ever met.
She sat cross-legged on the floor in a position he was pretty sure he couldn’t have achieved without requiring emergency assistance afterward.
“You do yoga or something?”
“For the past fifteen years. It started as a way to relax.”
Because having a stammer had been stressful. Living with her father had been stressful.
He didn’t like thinking about it because thinking about it made him understand why she valued home and family so strongly and that, in turn, made him worry about what she was doing with him. Maybe she made a point of being with lost causes. “So you can do lots of fancy poses?”
“I’m pretty flexible, if that’s what you mean.” She glanced up, challenge in her eyes. “I can wrap my legs around my neck.”
Heat and desire shot through him.
He forgot that he wasn’t the right man for her.
He forgot that they wanted different things. Right then at that moment there was only one thing he wanted.
In the grip of an attack of pure lust, Ethan felt sweat sheen his brow. “No kidding.”
“I’d prove it, Dr. Black, but I’m holding a kitten.”
“I guess I can manage to hold two if you’d like to show me.”
“Why don’t I start with something less provocative?” She finished feeding the kitten, placed it on Ethan’s lap and then put her hands flat on the floor. She paused for a moment, breathed and then kicked her legs into a perfect handstand, narrowly missing the tree that took pride of place in the living room.
She was poised, ramrod straight, her balance perfect. Her hair slid down and the ends brushed the floor.
He was just wondering how anyone could hold such a perfectly straight handstand for that length of time, when she lowered her legs to the floor with as much grace as she’d used to kick them up in the first place.
He was surprised all the needles were still attached to the Christmas tree.
Ethan tried to speak but had to clear his throat before any words would emerge.
“Okay, I’m impressed. Now move on to the provocative.”
She arched her back and did something with her body that made him want to strip her naked and take her right there and then. He would have done it if it weren’t for the kittens in his lap. They were definitely too young to witness what he had in mind.
“Enough.” He shifted on the sofa and she raised an eyebrow.
“Are those kittens making you uncomfortable?”
“Nothing to do with the kittens, sweetheart.” And then he saw the sparkle in her eyes and realized she knew exactly why he was feeling uncomfortable.
“I take it back. You’re a bad girl. Does your twin do yoga too?”
“No.” She stood up gracefully. “Yoga is too slow and calm for Fliss. She prefers kickboxing and karate.” She leaned forward to take the kittens from him and her hair brushed against his cheek.
For a moment he forgot how to breathe, but then she stepped back and placed the kittens in a basket.
“I forgot to tell you—” She straightened, her cheeks flushed. “Susan is spending Christmas with me.”
“You invited her? That was kind of you. Not working over Christmas would have been her kind of hell.” And the fact that she’d invited her confirmed what he already knew. That Harriet Knight was the kindest person he’d ever met. “It’s a tough time of year for her.”
“I did it for me too. I like her. I want my friends around me.”
It almost made him wish he wasn’t working at Christmas.
It was two days until his vacation. Two days. Usually by this stage he couldn’t wait. Usually there wasn’t one single thing about New York City that he’d miss. But this time—“What are you doing next week?”
“The usual. Walking dogs. Why?”
He wouldn’t see her for over a week and then it would be Christmas and he wouldn’t see her then, either. An emotion stirred to life inside him. An emotion he decided not to examine too closely.
“Come with me to Vermont. I’ll teach you to ski.” He knew that by inviting her he’d crossed an invisible line. A line neither of them talked about, but which both of them knew was there. Casual dating in New York City was one thing. Inviting her to share his vacation was something else entirely.
He knew it. She knew it. And it was difficult to know which of them was most surprised by the suggestion.
Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
Maybe she was the more surprised, given that she needed confirmation of his question.
“I’m asking you to join me. When did you last take a vacation?” As if that had any bearing at all on his reason for asking.
“I don’t know. It’s been a while. I had a few days in the Hamptons in the summer.”
“Staying with your grandmother. Checking on your sister.” She’d told him about the struggle she had persuading her twin to open up to her. “When did you last have a week that was all about you?”
“But this week is all about you. You’ve told me that.” She held his gaze. “You look forward to it all year. You catch up with friends—family—it’s your godmother’s wedding! You can’t invite me to your godmother’s wedding.”
“I can.” He decided not to tell her how pleased his friends and family would be if he showed up with Harriet as his guest. “My invitation says plus one. You’re my plus one. I’d love you to join me. Could you make some calls? Delegate some of your walks?”
“I’m not walking that many myself right now. Only Harvey, because I like to keep an eye on Glenys, but I can ask Judy to call in.”
“Good. Then that’s settled.”
“Wait! This is—are you sure?” She sounded breathless and flustered. “This is a ski vacation and I don’t know how to ski.”
“I’ll teach you.”
“I might be terrible at it.”
He pulled her into the circle of his arms. “Even if you hate it there is plenty to enjoy at Snow Crystal. Trust me on that. You’ll have a great time. Luxury cabin by a frozen lake. Snowy forest. Log fire. Shelves of books, extra large bed—”
“Stop! You’re making sure I can’t possibly say no.”
“Why would you say no?”
“Because it isn’t something I’ve ever done before.”
“Isn’t that what Challenge Harriet is all about?”
“Good point. And what would I wear to a winter wedding?”
“Something warm, because knowing the O’Neil family at least part of it will be outdoors.” He stayed silent, letting her chew it over, surprised by how badly he wanted her there. “Well? What do you think?”
She smiled. “I think it sounds like one big challenge. Which makes it perfect. What do I need to pack?”