Connor felt like his nerves had been scraped by a razor-sharp rake as he left Jillian on Main and headed back to the hospital. He knew Gram couldn’t live forever. Her mind was slipping. He’d even thought that it might be dementia. Old folks sometimes got that. But it was more. He hated that she’d been hurt and frightened in a town where she’d always felt safe.
He should have seen what was happening. He should have called the doctor. He should have...
When the nurse in the emergency room said the word Alzheimer’s she’d finally put a title to what he knew deep down was wrong. Connor felt his heart crack and reality flooded in. He’d talked about Gram’s memory loss, her mixing up words, but hearing that word somehow made it real. Joe had told him all people in their eighties forget things. Sunnie claimed Gram just had a lot on her mind. But at his core, Connor was a man who never lied to himself, and refusing to say the word wouldn’t make the truth disappear.
It was time he faced what lay ahead. For Gram. For Sunnie. And for him.
Taking the slow route through the district, he checked his office phone for messages. The silence of the forgotten area seemed to close in around him as he drove. The calm of the empty building offered him no peace. They reminded him of what Gram would be one day. Just a shell. Her rich memories would be gone.
Not all at once, but one piece at a time. A year from now or maybe five, he’d still be able to hug her, but she wouldn’t remember who he was.
The most important person who’d always been in his life, always loved him, would one day look at him as if he were a stranger.
He needed to take a few minutes to breathe, so he pulled into an alleyway and cut the engine. Relaxing against the back of the bench seat, Connor let his orderly mind piece together a plan. He’d return a few calls. A normal day. Let the Acres know Gram wouldn’t be coming back tonight. He’d make sure all was set at the hospital. He’d reassure Sunnie. He’d call the quilters. He’d take care of every detail in preparation for her to leave the hospital tomorrow.
With the last wing of Autumn Acres still not ready to move into, his only choice was to bring her to his house. They were not yet set up to handle round-the-clock nursing care. Between friends and family, they’d keep Gram company while he had to be gone, and the nurse had given him a number for in-home nursing.
Connor would make sure that when he wasn’t with her someone else would be.
His heart slowed. He could handle this. She’d need a bed delivered so she could recover in comfort at his house. He’d need a ramp built. Once they let her out, he’d have to arrange for nursing care immediately and the housekeeper to come more often. They’d have to close the quilt shop for a while unless Jillian took over. Maybe she could keep it open and still manage to complete the logging project. Only she’d have to bring the quilts to Gram now, at least until she could be mobile in a wheelchair.
After five minutes of listing every detail over in his mind, he texted Sunnie for an update. Gram was resting and Joe was shooing away visitors.
Time to step back into his life. Time to get back to the hospital.
While reaching for the ignition, Connor glanced up. The shadowy alley made the time seem later, almost dark instead of midafternoon. It looked like the road ended with a gap-toothed brick wall, closing the space in like a boxed canyon.
He watched a trapped dust devil whirl, dragging trash and dead weeds in a deformed dance.
Just as he turned away, Connor saw the form of a man dart through the circling wind and vanish into a crumbling opening in the wall.
Connor blinked. Maybe the man had been only a mixture of shadow and debris rolling around. No one would be back in the rubble. There was nothing to steal. Nothing to do back there.
But Connor knew what he’d seen.
Logic took over. Maybe it was a kid, just looking around. Maybe a man hoping to find something interesting. Hell, Connor grinned, it might be someone trying to steal Joe’s Toe Tents.
Starting the pickup, he slowly backed out of the alley. Right now he had his hands full with Gram. He’d deal with a trespasser later. If someone was stealing any of this junk, he’d help them load the truck, but he didn’t want kids playing here. It wasn’t safe.
By the time he’d reached the hospital the man in the alley was forgotten and Connor turned all his attention to what had to be done.
At seven, he called the quilt shop and wasn’t surprised Jillian was still there.
“Tell me all that’s happened,” she said the moment she knew it was him.
“How about I come pick you up? I’ll fill you in while we run a few errands.”
“When will you be here?”
“Turn off the lights, lock up and I’ll be pulling up.”
She hung up the phone and followed instructions. He was there waiting for her when she stepped outside. Even though it had only been a few hours he couldn’t help smiling, and he realized he’d been working his way back to her since he’d left her.
“You all right?” Jillian asked, from what seemed like a mile away on the other side of his pickup.
“I’m fine.” How could he tell her that he felt like he was crumbling? All his life he’d always been a rock. The one everyone depended on. He needed to hold it together now. The doctor had told Gram her leg would heal, but outside in the hallway, he’d explained to Connor that this might be simply the first of many breaks to come unless Gram was very careful.
Connor shoved the pile of worries aside for a moment. “Where would you like to go to eat?”
Jillian seemed to read his mind. “How about we get hamburgers and take them back to the hospital for Sunnie and Joe? I’m sure they’ve already fed Gram.”
Connor grinned. “Good idea.” His thoughts were still there anyway.
Half an hour later they were all huddled around the hospital bed, talking and laughing. Joe told them how his cousin shot him in the calf one night when they were out drinking so far out of town only the stars offered light. They’d taken their guns along so folks would think they were looking for coyotes.
“It was daylight before we made it to the doctor’s office. My cousin was too drunk to carry me in so I had to hop on one foot all the way in from the parking lot.”
Sunnie claimed she didn’t believe him, so he pulled up his pants to the knee and they searched through his hairy leg for the scar.
When Connor finally stopped laughing, he sat back and wondered what reasonable people talk about in the hospital. When he glanced at Gram she was laughing also, even though Connor would bet she’d heard the story a dozen times.
Finally, the nurse came in and said all but two of them had to leave. Joe said he was staying and so did Sunnie. Connor didn’t argue. He just offered his hand to Jillian and said, “Time to go. They’re kicking us out.”
She pouted. “I guess we have to go.” She looked from Joe to Sunnie. “Call me if anything happens.” Then she slipped her hand into Connor’s.
At last, they were alone heading home. “Thanks for having dinner with me, even if it was a few bites of cold hamburgers around Gram’s hospital bed. It’s been a long day. Not much of a dinner date.”
“I didn’t mind,” she answered. “No one but Joe ate.” Then she laughed. “This was a date? Mayor, you’ve got some serious work to do.”
“I thought it was a date, but I don’t know.” He needed this light conversation. He didn’t want to think about all that had happened since dawn. “Maybe you could just consider I’m starting with a low bar so there will be no way to go but up.” He turned onto the highway, deciding not to take the district road again. “By the way, I’m still hungry,” he said more to himself than her.
“You want to come in? I could make you scrambled eggs. Mrs. Kelly’s fridge and pantry are stocked, and she told me to make myself at home. She’s out of town again.”
Connor pressed on the gas, suddenly in a hurry. “Any idea when she’ll be back?”
Jillian shook her dark hair. “Nope. Before the food runs out, I hope.”
A few minutes later he pulled to the side of the bed-and-breakfast and they went in through the garden door. It seemed so quiet; the whole town must be asleep by now. He followed her to the kitchen, and they began to cook.
When he’d remodeled his own kitchen a few years ago, he and Sunnie had stayed here almost a week, so Connor knew his way around.
Jillian made tomato and cheese omelets while he warmed banana bread and microwaved thick bacon slices. The smells of good food, real food, drifted in the air, spicing the evening like scented candles. He’d felt his mind and body twirling in a hurricane all day, and finally, he’d fallen into a calm sea.
When they sat down at the bar, he passed her a glass of orange juice. “This looks great. It’s the first meal I’ve had today.”
“Me, too. The cookies for breakfast and the two bites of cold hamburger don’t count.”
She clanked her glass with his as their eyes met and he realized his calm sea was her. It was that simple.
As they ate, the day poured out in a running commentary about all that had happened. The frantic drive when they thought Gram was lost. The way Joe took care of her as if she were just a girl. The hospital treating Gram like a queen, because in a way, she was. Stella reporting in on everything that had happened at the quilt shop as though she were a dispatcher at a big city precinct. The way Sunnie refused to leave her gram.
Neither mentioned the hallway talk with the nurse. That conversation could wait for another day.
Connor stole a slice of Jillian’s bacon. “I fear the power we’ve given Stella may go to her head. Stella thinks the whole plot of the cop series Justified was about her family. Claims they just moved it to another state to protect the guilty.”
“I thought Justified was a Western.”
Connor frowned. “You don’t watch enough TV, Jillian.”
At last their plates were empty, and he realized his muscles had finally relaxed. He’d felt like he’d been holding his breath all day.
“You want anything else?” Jillian picked up the plates and slipped off the stool.
“Yes,” he said, more to himself than her. “I’d like to hold you for those six minutes we talked about last week.”
With a clank, she set the dishes down and turned. “We weren’t going to talk about that. The stolen minutes thing was just a crazy idea on a stormy night. It was never meant to happen.”
He stared into her stormy eyes, more blue than gray tonight. All day, no matter what had happened, he’d been aware of her. A few times, he’d felt himself holding back, waiting, hoping for this moment, and he didn’t intend to let it pass by. “You asked what I wanted. I want the six minutes you offered.”
Leaning back against the counter, she folded her arms over her chest. Her head lowered and her beautiful midnight hair curtained her face. She wasn’t what people would call beautiful, but she was pretty in her quiet way. Classic, he decided, and when she smiled, no one could help but smile in return.
He knew he’d stepped out of line, but it was too late to pull back the words. He stood, trying to think of some way to walk away. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what she had to say. Her body language told him all he needed to know.
She wasn’t interested anymore. Maybe they’d missed their one chance.
Maybe if he simply left, she’d forget about what he’d just said by tomorrow and they’d go back to being polite strangers. She probably hadn’t noticed how often they’d touched today. He’d steadied her once when she’d tripped. He’d helped her out of the truck. She’d rested lightly against his shoulder once when she’d perched on the arm of his chair in the hospital. He’d held her hand as if it was his one lifeline to sanity.
He had to say goodbye before he made a fool of himself.
Her voice came so low he barely heard the words. “I don’t want to hurt you when I leave. And I will leave, Connor. That’s what I do.”
He thought of saying that it was already too late to think about being hurt. She’d affected him far more than any woman had since his wife died. Maybe he should laugh it off, say never mind, it was just a suggestion, but then he’d be lying.
He hadn’t been kidding. It was a need that had followed him around since he’d walked away a few nights ago. He wouldn’t apologize for wanting to step into uncharted territory for a change.
Reaching for his jacket, Connor knew all that was left now was to go. Maybe in a few days she’d forget he’d asked.
He’d taken two steps toward the side door when he heard her whisper, “I want you to hold me, too.”
Crossing the distance between them in two seconds, he pulled her into his arms.
She came to him without hesitation, wrapping her arms around his neck so tightly he could barely breathe, and he didn’t care.
Her body pressed solidly against his, and he lifted her off the floor in a hug. He’d needed her hug earlier, but now he wanted it, and he didn’t plan to let go.
“I...I...” She breathed against his ear, so close he could read her thoughts.
“I know,” he answered. “Let’s steal a few minutes off this long day.”
He touched his lips to hers as his hand slid along her side. She leaned into him and opened to his kiss.
He took his time learning how she wanted to be kissed. They were both experimenting, testing, learning. This kind of closeness seemed as new to her as it was to him.
Finally, he circled her waist with his arm and pulled her tight against him, needing to feel her heartbeat against his own.
Both laughed, knowing the period for hesitation was over. He kissed her soundly, and this time when his hand moved up from her waist, his palm pressed lightly against the side of her breast.
“You said I could touch you anywhere in these few stolen moments.”
He felt her laughter against his throat. “I did, didn’t I?”
With each breath they were coming alive to the other.
“This feels so good,” he said against her ear.
“I agree.”
He kissed her cheek and nuzzled against her hair. She could feel, more than hear, the rumble of his laughter.
This wasn’t foreplay, or aggression, or even flirting. This was simply pure enjoyment. After all the turmoil of the day, all the raw emotions, all the panic, it felt so grand to just hold someone close.
As he drank her in with deep kisses and bold strokes, she seemed to melt against him. She needed his touch as dearly as he needed her, and that knowledge made him feel half-drunk.
When he broke the kiss, he dug his fingers into her silky hair and held her head in place as he kissed his way to her ear.
“You may leave me. You may hurt me when you go. But you will never forget me, Jillian. Just as I will never forget you. There is something between us and acting like it isn’t there doesn’t change a thing about how I feel inside.”
Then, he held her tightly against him until their breathing slowed and blended. Every cell in his body seemed to absorb her, memorizing the way she felt so close to him, the way she smelled, the way she cried silently on his shoulder as all the tension of the day was melting from her.
Another time he’d ask why, but for tonight it was enough to just hold her and know that she wanted this as much as he did.
Neither of them counted the minutes. He had no idea if he held her for six minutes or an hour. She felt so good against him.
Over and over again he’d lean down a few inches and kiss her softly. When he reluctantly pulled away, she’d smile and whisper, “I’ve been waiting for that. Again, please.”
He felt like he was learning to kiss. All the times in high school and college were just practice. This time he got it perfect. He wasn’t just kissing a woman; he was kissing Jillian. She’d walked into his life on a gray day, and no matter how long she stayed, he knew from the start that she’d be someone who brightened his world.
Finally, she tugged free and took his hand. They moved to the sunroom where an overstuffed couch in the corner seemed to be made of dusty pillows. Gently, she pushed him down and cuddled beside him.
“I think my time is up,” he admitted against her hair as he circled her shoulders.
“I haven’t got my fill of being held.” She laughed. “You think you could stay just a little longer?”
“I’ll try.” He moved his hand over her thigh and pulled one of her legs onto his lap. He could have gone further. Maybe even undressed her, but that wasn’t what he wanted.
He wanted to discover this quiet woman slowly, learning every part of her, enjoying every step. When he’d been twenty he might have hurried into loving, but not now.
She rested her cheek against his heart. “We’d better not get too carried away. After all, Willie is watching.”
“Willie?”
“The ghost.”
Connor laughed. “Oh, him. After five wives, he’s probably seen it all. I doubt we’ll shock him.”
They were silent for a while, then she said what he guessed had been on both their minds all day. “I know you wish you could have Gram forever. I’ve known her a month and wish she’d be in my life for years to come. But one day, she’ll pass, and a whole town will have been blessed to have known her.”
“I know. I’m no stranger to funerals in my life or as mayor, but I fear laying her to rest won’t be easy. Only someday, way in the future, Gram’s funeral will be a celebration of her life. I can handle that.”
When Jillian seemed content against him, he added, “You know, I’ve probably attended half a dozen funerals just this year. I’ve started rating them on a one-to-ten scale. How many people come, how many flowers, whether people cry or just seem to wait for it to be over, does the preacher even know the deceased. You can tell a lot about a person’s life by what kind of funeral he or she has.”
“I’ve never been to a funeral.”
“Really?”
“Nope. Not one. I’ve never thought about when I die. I guess the city takes care of bodies not claimed.”
Connor pulled away. “Are you telling me you have no relative, no friend, no partner or neighbor who’ll stand over your grave and say goodbye?”
She shook her head. “And before you ask, I’m not running away from anything or anyone. My father liked to travel and so do I. I always have and probably always will. It’s just my way. I don’t stay around long enough to get too close to people. It’s easier that way.”
Leaning nearer, he kissed her lightly, letting her damp lips feel his words. “I can’t make you stay. It wouldn’t be fair. But while you’re here, you have someone. We’ll start with being friends and I swear, if you die, which I hope you won’t, I’ll stand over your grave.”
She kissed his cheek. “I’d like to be a little more than friends, Mayor, and I have no intention of dying.”
He grinned. More than friends, not quite lovers. Sounded like a good place to be for now. “You may have traveled the world, but there is something about you, Jillian, that seems to be born yesterday.”
Stretching his legs out, he leaned back into the pillows as he held her in his arms. “You tell me about the world you’ve seen, and I’ll tell you about growing up in one place.”
She lifted her head. “I have a feeling you’ve learned more than me. I see wisdom in those brown eyes.”
“Don’t mistake confusion for knowledge.” In a low voice meant only for her, he told her of all the places he wanted to see. The castles of Great Britain, the moors of Ireland. The battle that broke the back of the Clans. Culloden. Britain versus Jacobites. “I read so much about it as a kid I used to dream about being there. And Italy. I used to keep a list of all the places I had to see in Italy. And France. They say everyone should go to France before they die.”
After a while, he heard her breathing slow and knew she was asleep. He thought about waking her and leaving. It was late, but it felt so good to have her against him. He tried to remember a time like this, when he’d held a woman so tenderly. When he’d been so happy.
Melissa and his marriage had been among the walking dead for years, and he’d never sought comfort elsewhere. Maybe because he saw the failure as his. He couldn’t be what Melissa wanted. He wasn’t enough for her.
But with Jillian, it was different. He knew she wouldn’t stay. Maybe all she wanted was shelter in a storm. He could be that. He could be enough for Jillian, and no matter how many weeks they had together, that would have to be enough for him. When you get a slice of happiness, you can’t expect the whole cake.
He closed his eyes and drifted off, thinking how lucky she had been to get to travel. He might never travel, but maybe she’d tell him about all the places and he’d see the world through her eyes.