Chapter Sixteen
Three days had passed since Jamie had left the house on Pinewood Avenue. Rachel had no idea where he’d gone, only that he was gone. It had only taken her a few hours after their ugly confrontation to realize the magnitude of the mistake she’d made. She’d run across the street, ready to tell Jamie what an idiot she’d been, but the house had been locked up tight. She’d gone around to the back and peered through the French doors into the kitchen, but her heart already knew the house was empty.
He had left without so much as a good-bye. Without allowing her an opportunity to make amends. The expression in his eyes just before he’d left still haunted her. She’d hurt him, and deeply. She’d expected him to be angry, but she hadn’t expected him to leave. She hadn’t seen or heard anyone pull up to the house, and had no idea where he might have gone. For all she knew, he could be on a flight back to Oceanside, California, where he had a condo.
With Dylan and her parents still in Bozeman, she’d never been lonelier. Only pride kept her from calling her brother at the hospital to see if he had any idea where Jamie might have gone. She’d called Jamie’s cell phone numerous times, but each time it had gone to voicemail. Rachel didn’t know if he had his phone turned off, or if he just didn’t want to talk to her.
Finally, tired of feeling sorry for herself, she’d gone into town to listlessly poke through the shops, and had even walked out onto the pier, crowded with tourists and young families. But that only reminded her of when she’d visited the pier with Jamie, and how he’d brashly declared to anyone and everyone that she was the most beautiful girl in Glacier Creek.
For the first time since she’d headed off to college and New York City, she regretted that she hadn’t maintained any of her friendships in Glacier Creek. Life had moved too fast, sweeping her along with it until one day she looked up and realized fifteen years had passed. In all those years, she’d only contacted her high-school friends once or twice, when she’d been home for a holiday or other family event. She hadn’t attended any of her class reunions, or tried to maintain her old friendships, mostly because Deke had never wanted to spend any time with her family or her friends.
Instead, she’d had a few superficial friendships with the socialites who hung out on Deke’s yacht, or temporarily lived at one of his many residences. When Rachel had questioned Deke about it, he’d always brushed her concerns aside, saying those same people would be more than willing to open their doors to him and Rachel in return.
Only they never had, at least when she’d accompanied Deke.
In retrospect, they had not been true friends. They had only wanted to hang out with Deke because he provided anything and everything they needed, at no charge, including booze and drugs.
She thought of her mother and Mrs. Colter, who had been friends since before Rachel was born. They’d weathered good times and bad times, yet their friendship had never wavered. Similarly, Jamie had managed to stay connected with Dylan and Cole and most of the other guys he’d hung out with as a kid. He hadn’t ditched them just because he’d joined the Marines and had deployed halfway around the world.
That’s what she wanted.
Something real.
Something permanent.
Now she sat on the town pier and looked out over the lake, where the windblown white caps ruffled the water, and gulls floated lazily on the air currents. Nearby, a little boy cried out in delight as he and his father caught a small fish, and reeled it in. Rachel watched as the father showed the boy how to carefully remove the hook, and then return the fish to the water where it could grow bigger.
Rachel closed her eyes and tipped her face up to the sun, listening to the sounds of people laughing, the water lapping at the pilings beneath her, and the gulls crying overhead. Suddenly, the thought of relocating to another large city held no appeal.
She realized she had no desire to go to California to start her own business.
She liked the feel of Glacier Creek, with its abundance of natural beauty, and its slower pace. She even liked how everyone in the small town seemed to know each other, as demonstrated by the many happy conversations she saw struck up on the sidewalks and in the shops. Sure, there were tourists, but even they seemed to be the kind who returned year after year, as they chatted with the shopkeepers and locals about what had changed since they’d last visited.
The alarm on her phone rang and she jerked upright, digging through her pocketbook until she found it, and turned it off. Shading the device with her hand, she peered at the display and realized today was Jamie’s appointment to have his cast removed at the VA hospital in Kalispell. She had no idea if he was even still in the area, but this might be her only opportunity to see him, if he did keep the appointment. If she left right now, she might just catch him.
She made her way quickly back to the parking lot, determined to be at the hospital early. If Jamie did show up, nothing would prevent her from talking to him, and telling him how she felt. She’d made a mistake the other day, but she finally knew what she wanted and where she belonged, and that was with him.
If he would still have her.
With her heart thudding hard in her chest, she drove the van to the Kalispell veterans’ hospital and parked beneath some shady trees, with a clear view of the entrance. The hospital was small, and the only other entrance was for the emergency room. If Jamie kept his appointment, this was the entrance he would use. Blowing out a hard breath, she put the windows down to take advantage of the breeze, and fixed her eyes on the entry.
More than an hour later, she decided he must have left Glacier Creek and canceled his appointment, when he suddenly walked through the front doors of the hospital. His cast was gone, and in its place he wore a knee-high boot made of plastic and foam. He still used crutches, and he had his head down as he made his way through the entry, before turning toward the far side of the parking lot.
Rachel devoured the sight of him, noting every small detail of his appearance. Quickly, she climbed out of the van and was just about to cross the distance between them, when someone called his name.
Jamie stopped, and so did Rachel. She watched as a woman came out of the hospital behind Jamie, hurrying to catch up with him. She was young, probably no older than Jamie. She had a fabulous figure and thick auburn hair pulled back in a messy bun. She wore a pair of black-rimmed glasses, but instead of making her look bookish, they only served to give her a sexy-librarian look.
Rachel frowned. She was too far away to hear what the woman was saying, but clearly they knew each other. Did the woman work at the hospital? Was she a friend?
She waited, half expecting the woman to turn and go back inside, but instead she remained on the sidewalk, talking earnestly to Jamie as he listened and nodded. Then, as Rachel watched, she reached out and cupped Jamie’s face, dipping her head to look into his eyes as she talked. It seemed to Rachel she was pleading with him. Then, almost convulsively, Jamie pulled her into his arms and hugged her hard as he buried his face in the curve of her shoulder, unheeding of the crutches that fell to the ground.
Too shocked to do anything more than stare, Rachel stood rooted beside the van, feeling her heart drop into her stomach. After a moment, the two broke apart and the woman bent to retrieve his crutches. She said something that made Jamie laugh, and hot jealousy consumed Rachel.
She watched as they turned and made their way across the parking lot. The woman kept one hand on Jamie’s back, and even from where she stood, Rachel could see her rubbing between his shoulder blades, until finally they both climbed into a vehicle and were gone.
Rachel sagged against the van, stunned.
Who the hell was the other woman? Was she involved with Jamie? Was Jamie staying with her? Was she from Glacier Creek?
It occurred to Rachel that if she had been thinking straight, she might have been able to follow their car and discover where Jamie was staying. In the next instant, she felt a little sick to her stomach. Whatever she might be, she was not a stalker. She’d lost everything, but she still had her pride. If Jamie had already moved on, then she’d misread him—he wasn’t ready for a serious commitment.
She climbed back into the van and sat there for a long time, staring with unseeing eyes at the parking lot. She couldn’t quite grasp Jamie was still in Glacier Creek, or that she’d seen him with another woman. Just three days ago she’d been ready to give him up, convinced they weren’t right for each other, and yet seeing him with that woman made her realize he was the only man she wanted.
She loved him.
They were all wrong for each other, but nothing felt as right as Jamie’s arms around her.
They belonged together.
Rachel gripped the steering wheel, and then bent her head down onto her hands, willing herself not to cry. She had no one to blame but herself. She was the only one who could make things right with Jamie.
She straightened and dragged in several long breaths, willing herself to be strong. She didn’t know how she was going to fix the colossal mess she’d made of her life, but she was going to try.
First, she needed to make some changes.
*
Nothing had ever felt as good as getting that damned cast removed, Jamie thought, as he gently worked the stiffness out of his leg. Well, except having Rachel in his arms. There wasn’t anything that could compete with that.
She’d tried to call him numerous times over the past week, but he’d stubbornly refused to answer. If he did, he’d cave. He was total mush in her hands and there was no way he wanted her to know that. Right now, his pride was all he had left. He couldn’t risk seeing her until he was sure he could keep his emotions in check.
He missed her.
More than that, he missed them, together. He’d been on the verge of calling her so many times, but then he’d remember the scorn in her voice as she’d compared him to the Deke-wad, and he’d set the phone aside.
Someone knocked on the door, and he called out a greeting, allowing himself to relax back on the sofa. The door opened, and Laurel Cavanaugh came into the living room. Tall and slender, with reddish hair and glasses she continually pushed up with one finger, she was Dylan’s closest neighbor. He thought she might be pretty if only she’d smile more. He had a tough time reconciling the fact she was the bestselling author of a popular murder mystery series. Shy by nature, she preferred to be at her house writing her books, but Cole had asked if she could look in on Jamie, and she’d taken the request very seriously.
She wasn’t at all his type, but Jamie liked her quiet, unassuming manner, and the fact she didn’t ask him questions. When Cole had been unable to give him a ride to the hospital for his doctor appointment, Laurel had volunteered. He was grateful for her calming presence, especially when the doctor told him he would walk with a pronounced limp for the rest of his life, and that his combat days were likely over.
He still had a tough time processing that information. If he couldn’t deploy with his unit, he wasn’t sure he wanted to remain in the military. He wasn’t cut out for a desk job or an administrative detail.
He’d left the hospital feeling as if his entire world had tilted sideways. Laurel had been the one to tell him the only restrictions he had were the ones he imposed on himself, and he could still do whatever he put his mind to. He hadn’t wanted to hear that, but she’d planted the seed and over the past few days, he’d found himself reluctantly thinking about other options: ones that would keep him here in Glacier Creek.
“Hey,” Laurel called in greeting from the kitchen. “I was at the farmer’s market this morning, so I picked up some fresh corn and tomatoes, and a half dozen steaks.” She leaned back to look at him through the doorway. “Dylan is coming home today, right?”
“Yeah, he should be here in an hour or so. Why did you get so many steaks?”
“His parents are going to be dropping him off, so I thought they might like to stay and have supper with him.”
“You didn’t have to do that, but thanks. Let me give you some money.”
She waved his words away. “Absolutely not. That’s what friends do for each other, right? Think of it as my way of welcoming Dylan home again.”
“You’re going to join us, I hope.”
“Of course!” Laurel gave him an owlish look from behind her glasses. “I never pass up an opportunity to give Dylan a hard time.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” Jamie said drily.
She’d been taking care of Boomer—and himself—since he’d come to stay at the timber-frame house. Dylan had hinted there was more to Laurel than most people were aware, but he didn’t elaborate. Jamie was pretty sure Laurel had a crush on Dylan, but didn’t think her feelings were reciprocated. She wasn’t Dylan’s type. Although, to be fair, Dylan didn’t seem to have a type.
“How’s the leg today?” she asked.
Jamie shrugged. “About the same. No worse, so that’s good.”
He’d been working hard to regain his lost muscle strength, and had been practicing walking without his crutches. Even with the rigid boot, his leg was still too weak to completely support his weight, although he could now get by with just one crutch. A physical therapist came to the house twice a week and put him through his paces, and he hoped he would be able to walk without the remaining crutch by the end of the month.
“Did you talk with Dylan today?” Laurel asked.
“I did, this morning.” He laughed softly. “If possible, he’s feeling even more ornery than I am. With two cranky cripples in the house, you might want to do yourself a favor and avoid coming over.”
Through the kitchen doorway, he watched Laurel set a dish of food onto the floor for Boomer, and then she came into the living room and surveyed him, surrounded as he was by Dylan’s workout equipment.
“Neither of you scare me,” she said, smiling. “Trust me when I tell you I’ve handled worse. And you’re not going to heal faster by overtaxing your leg. Just so you know.”
Jamie grunted. He didn’t want to admit Laurel was right. He just wanted to be back on his feet. He’d be better equipped to face Rachel if he wasn’t on crutches or stuck in a wheelchair. And he would face her—there had never been any doubt in his mind about that. He just needed to be able to catch her if she decided to run.
“What time did Dylan say he’d be here?” Laurel asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“About an hour.”
“Okay, that sounds perfect. I’m going to head home now, but I’ll be back when he gets here, okay? The steaks and beer are in the fridge, and I put the corn into some water to soak; I thought they’d be good roasted on the grill.”
Jamie raised a hand in farewell as she let herself out, and then rose to his feet and made his way outside to the deck. He leaned on the railing and surveyed the town of Glacier Creek, below, a hard knot of misery in his chest.
What was Rachel doing right now? Did she think of him? Did she miss him? Dylan had promised not to tell her where he was, but Jamie wondered how long it would be before she figured it out. He was actually surprised—and more than a little disappointed—she hadn’t already discovered he was staying at Dylan’s house. He’d have thought she’d be over long before now to make sure the house was ready for Dylan when he returned from Bozeman. The sun beat warm on his shoulders, reminding him there was cold beer in the fridge.
Turning, he made his way back into the house, and then stopped when he heard a key in the front lock. He paused, expecting Dylan or his parents to walk through the door.
The last person he expected to see was Rachel, and judging by the shocked look on her face when she saw him standing there, she hadn’t expected to see him, either.